Is That Mom

Part 4 of Chapter 10

Chapter 10:

Confronting the Past

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Part 4:

A Haunting Revelation

Ethan sat on the cold, steel floor of the hidden chamber, his mind still reeling from the nightmare his mother's research had unveiled. Papers littered the ground around him, crumpled and scattered like the broken remnants of the life he thought he knew. The machine loomed in the center of the room, humming softly, as if mocking his inability to process what he had just uncovered.

As his gaze drifted across the room, something caught his eye-a small, unassuming device tucked away in the corner of the desk. It was a recorder, its surface worn from years of use. His fingers trembled as he reached for it, the realization that this object might hold answers to questions he was terrified to ask. Slowly, he picked it up, and his breath hitched as he saw the label on its side: For Ethan.

His throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't move. His mother had left this for him. Of all the things she had hidden, of all the terrible secrets he had uncovered, this was meant specifically for him. What could she have possibly wanted to say? Did she know he would find this place? Did she leave it as a confession, or a warning?

With shaking hands, Ethan pressed play. The recorder crackled to life, filling the silent chamber with the sound of a voice he hadn't heard in years. His mother's voice. Soft, measured, and unmistakable.

"Ethan... if you're listening to this, then you've found the chamber. I suppose that means you've uncovered more of the truth than I ever intended for you to see."

Her words were a dagger to his heart. He closed his eyes, the sound of her voice bringing a flood of memories-of childhood, of laughter, of the warmth she had once brought into his life. But those memories clashed violently with the cold reality of what she had done. He wanted to stop listening, to throw the recorder across the room and walk away, but something kept him rooted in place.

"There's so much I need to explain, but I'm not sure where to begin. I know you must be horrified by what you've found. I was horrified, too, when I first realized the full extent of what this research demanded. But I couldn't stop. I couldn't turn back. There was too much at stake."

Her voice cracked slightly, a hint of emotion breaking through the clinical tone she had adopted. Ethan's chest tightened as he listened, every word sinking deeper into his soul.

"I don't expect you to understand. How could you? You're still so young. You have your whole life ahead of you, untouched by the weight of the choices I had to make. But Ethan... I need you to know that I didn't do this out of malice. I didn't set out to hurt anyone. The research... it was necessary. The potential it held... it was worth the risk."

The weight of her words bore down on Ethan like a heavy stone. She believed in what she had done. Despite the horrors, despite the lives destroyed, she had believed in it with all her heart. And yet, there was something in her tone-a sorrow, a guilt that slipped through the cracks of her conviction.

"We were on the brink of something incredible, Ethan. Something that could change the course of humanity. But with that kind of power comes unimaginable responsibility. I tried to shoulder it, but in the end... the cost was too high."

Ethan's jaw clenched as he listened. She had tried to rationalize it all, to make it seem like her actions were justified, that the experiments were a necessary evil. But how could she have believed that? How could she have convinced herself that the suffering she caused was worth it?

"You've seen the worst of it now, I'm sure. The failures, the broken bodies. I wish I could tell you that it was all for the greater good, that it was all leading to a better future. But I can't. I've come to realize that there are some boundaries we should never cross. And I crossed them. I went too far."

Her voice trembled, and Ethan could hear the weight of regret in every syllable. For the first time, he heard the cracks in her armor, the vulnerability she had never shown him when he was a child. She had always been so strong, so unwavering in her dedication to her work. But now, in the safety of this recording, her facade had crumbled.

"I'm sorry, Ethan. I'm so sorry for what I've done. I'm sorry for the burden I've left for you to carry. I thought I was doing what was right, but in the end, I've only caused pain. I hope that one day you'll understand why I did what I did. But I won't ask for your forgiveness. I don't deserve it."

Ethan's breath caught in his throat. The words hit him like a sledgehammer. His mother-this woman he had loved, who he had put on a pedestal-was admitting her guilt, her failure. The weight of her sorrow was almost too much to bear.

"But know this, Ethan," her voice softened, "I never stopped loving you. Through all of it, you were always in my thoughts. I wanted to protect you from this... from the darkness that consumed me. But I couldn't. I failed you in that, too. If you're listening to this, it means you've come too far. You've seen too much."

The silence that followed was deafening. Ethan's hands shook as he gripped the recorder tighter, his knuckles white. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tear the room apart. His mother's words had shattered whatever fragile understanding he had left. She had done these terrible things, but she had done them believing they were necessary. She had tried to protect him, but in the process, she had destroyed herself-and so many others.

"I know you'll have questions. You deserve answers. But some truths are better left buried. The deeper you dig, the more pain you'll uncover. I wish I could spare you from it, but I know you too well. You won't stop. You'll keep searching, just as I did."

Ethan's heart pounded in his chest. She was right. He couldn't stop. Despite the horror, despite the betrayal, he couldn't walk away. He had to know the full truth. He had to understand why she had done this, and what it meant for him.

"Ethan, I know you must hate me. I would hate me, too. But please, whatever you find next, whatever you uncover, remember this: I loved you. I always loved you. That never changed."

The recording clicked off, leaving a void in its wake. Ethan sat there, frozen, his mother's final words echoing in his mind. His emotions churned violently-grief, anger, confusion, and a deep, aching sense of loss. She had loved him, but her love hadn't been enough to stop the horrors she had committed. She had believed in her work, but now he could see that belief had destroyed everything good in her.

His vision blurred with tears, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn't allow himself to break, not yet. Not here. There were still questions that needed answers, still pieces of the puzzle left unsolved. And as much as her words had shaken him, they had also reignited a fire inside him-a need to understand, to confront the full scope of her legacy.

But as he stared at the machine in the center of the room, he couldn't shake the feeling that some things were better left in the past. Some truths, as his mother had warned, came with too high a price.

In the cold, empty silence of the chamber, Ethan wrestled with the hardest question of all: could he ever forgive her? Could he find it in his heart to reconcile the woman he had loved with the monster her work had turned her into?

And if he couldn't... what would that make him?