The fall

Chapter 44

Penelope

The morning light seeped weakly through the warped glass windows of the main hall, casting long, jagged shadows across the cold stone floor. My heels scuffed against it as I stood there, waiting, tense and bracing myself for whatever twisted game Dr. Finn Fray was about to play.

A day had passed since I saw Blake in the black market. His face still lingered in my mind—familiar yet distant, like a ghost from a past I wasn't sure I still deserved. But I couldn't think about him now. Not when Fray had summoned me here. Not when I feel his impatience clinging into the air like smoke.

The doors groaned open, and there he was, his pristine white coat trailing behind him like some dark omen. Everything about him felt cold—his eyes, his expression, even the way he moved, as though he walked above the rest of us mere mortals.

"Penelope," he said sharply as he approached. No pleasantries, no preamble. Just my name, like command.

I crossed my arms over my chest, forcing myself to stand tall even though my pulse hammered in my throat. "What do you  want?"

His lips thinned, displeased by my tone, but he didn't weaver. "We're wasting time. I'm tired of dancing around the truth with you." He stopped a few feet away, his gaze cutting into me. "You're my daughter, my creation. Whether you like it or not."

I let out a harsh laugh, the sound echoing off the high ceilings. "You're insane if you think I'll ever see you as my father."

He sighed, as if my defiance was nothing more than a tiresome inconvenience. "Believe it or don't. The truth remains." His eyes gleamed with something sharper now—determination, maybe even obsession. "But that's not why you're here. What I need is your blood."

My stomach turned, of course that's what he wants.

"Just a small sample," he continued casually, like he was asking for nothing more than a signature on a form. Like he didn't drain me last time. "There are... unique properties within you that must be studied. For your own good. For our good, think of your mother."

"No." The word left my mouth without hesitation. I clenched my fists, my nails biting into my palms. "You're not taking anything from me, not again."

His expression darkened. "I'm not asking, Dorothea. I'm telling you."

"And I'm telling you to go to hell."

The room fell into a heavy silence, the kind that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I could feel the soldiers stationed around the perimeter watching, but none of them moved. None of them would dare to intervene.

Fray's jaw clenched, and then, without warning, he lunged forward and grabbed my arm. His grip was iron, his fingers digging painfully into my flesh as he yanked me toward him.

"You don't understand what's at stake here," He hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "I've tolerated your disobedience long enough."

"Let me go!" I shouted, twisting and struggling against him, but his grip only tightened. Pain shot up my arm which causes tears start swelling up in my eyes. 

"I'm doing what's necessary," he said through gritted teeth.

"Necessary?" I spat, my voice shaking with rage. "You mean controlling me. You say you're a father—but you're a monster."

His eyes flickered with something dark and ugly, and then I saw it—the small black device he pulled from his pocket. My breath hitched as the realization dawned.

"No—" I barely got the word out before he pressed the button.

The collar around my neck exploded with searing pain. Electricity tore through my body, sending me to my knees with a choked scream. My muscles convulsed uncontrollably, my vision blurring as agony swallowed everything else.

I collapsed onto the cold stone floor, gasping for air, my body trembling from the aftershocks. The pain lingered, sharp and raw, leaving me weak and disoriented.

Through the haze, I saw Fray standing over me, his face cold and unyielding. "Take her back to the asylum," he ordered, his voice devoid of any emotion.

One of the soldiers hesitated. "Sir, shouldn't we wait for commander Richard's approval—"

Fray turned on them with a glare that could freeze fire. "Do I need to repeat myself?"

The soldiers swallowed hard, their protest dying on their lips. They stepped forward reluctantly, their gaze flickering to me with something that might have been sympathy—but they didn't defy the doctor.

"Don't touch me," I croaked, my voice hoarse and broken. But I couldn't fight back. My limbs were useless, my body weakened by the shock.

The soldiers lifted me to my feet, my legs barely supporting my weight as they began to drag me toward the door. I stumbled, my breath ragged, but I didn't stop glaring at Fray.

I would remember this—his face, the pain, the humiliation, the rage burning inside me even as my body betrayed me. I would make him pay for everything, I'd sure kill him, just like the others.