“It hasn’t been a week yet, Raven.”

“I gave her three days and it’s been exactly that.”

“And we were told a week. You’re just gonna have to wait.”

Raven scowls, eyeing the group Camellia put together as a backup plan. Alarms have been going off in his head since she first mentioned going into that wretched. He storms off to gather gear. Mainly medical equipment. Afraid that she’s somehow gotten hurt. He’s stopped before he can so much as touch anything.

“Be patient, Cammie can take care of herself.”

“Voyle, move. Also, she told you not to call her Cammie.”

“You do it. She doesn’t complain.”

“She has and I’m not you. Besides I don’t trust Von Teile.”

“She’ll be fine. Give it until the end of the week. If they’re not back by then I’ll give you whatever supplies you need.”

“Whatever.”

The older man stays in place until Raven leaves. The anxiety he has running rampant through the house and affecting everyone. Unless you’re Dax.

“Someone looks lost.”

“You want a map Dax? I can make you one. Won’t even charge you if it’ll keep you away from me.”

“I’m not the one who needs it, freak.”

“Right, right, forgot. You have a knack for seeking out your own death. Some weird mental compass. And if you keep following it right up to me I just might break every bone in your body. Screw off, I’m in a mood to break jaws and yours is a perfect candidate.”

“I doubt that will help you any. Dax, it is of your best interest to mind your business. I will gladly vouch for Raven tearing into you again.”

Fink’s voice is light and airy and enough to drive Dax away. He might terrorize Raven, but he never dared to speak out against Fink. Especially, since it could quite possibly cost him his life.

“Funny how you put literal fear into everyone with mere words. Yet it’s like I don’t have the volatile temper. Anyway, what did you need?”

“Dad’s looking for you. They do everything to piss you off except pester me. It’s a wonder.”

“Not going. Forget it. Not happening.”

“Raven, seriously. Come on. Don’t make me whine and you know I’ll do it.”

“I’m not going. Whine all you want.”

“You think I’m joking? I will whine all day. Now either come quietly or suffer.”

“Will you leave me alone if I go?”

“Maybe, but I promise I won’t whine.”

Fink tows behind him bright eyes and cheeky grin. Nothing screams terrifying young man more than a threat coming from him. It takes them a bit, with all the cleanup going on to maneuver through a slew of halls to where Fink left his father. The room isn’t one Raven recognizes. To top it off it’s entirely spotless. As if someone’s been keeping it clean or using it all these years. There’s equipment set up everywhere. Things he’d hoped to never see ever again. Monsters in his nightmares. Except these ones are newer.

He’s bone white knuckles, paper skin, brittle breathing marked by harsh intakes, and dead footfalls. Hatred breeding in every step the further in the room he goes. Contracted pupils swim in pools of blood and lava.

Fink watches him, having never seen him shake so violently in his life. The muscles in Raven’s body unable to decide if they want to tense or burst apart at the seams. He’d reach out to comfort him if he thought it would do any good. Anything to keep his friend from exploding right there.

“Father, what is this?”

“I’m not sure myself. It looks recently used. I was hoping Raven knew.”

“Terrible idea. He hates the place. Besides this all looks well fresh, not aged.”

“You brought me here to ask about an instrument of my nightmares? Were you thinking? Did it even occur to you that this would anger me? Or do you just not care?”

“You’re the only experiment with knowledge of the place? Who else would I ask?”

“ANYONE WHO ISN’T ME! I’M NOT AN OBJECT! AND DESPITE BEING A FREAK OF NATURE I HAVE AT LEAST ONE EMOTION. AND IT’S HATRED. HATRED FOR THIS WHOLE PLACE AND WHAT IT REPRESENTS! I’M A BY PRODUCT OF SOMETHING SOMEONE DID BECAUSE THE LIVES OF CHILDREN DON’T MATTER TO THEM! DO NOT ASK ME ANYTHING ABOUT IT! LOOK FOR THE ANSWERS YOUR DAMN SELF!”

“Raven wait!”

It’s too latte as Raven storms out, the strength of his steps cracking the tile. He ignores the calling of his name. Anger resounding through the halls, flooding the place with a new kind of fear and tension. Fink turns to go after him.

“He’ll come around. Let him cool off for now.”

“Come around? Cool off? You don’t know the hell of this place. What it’s done to him. What it still does to him. It’s just looking for notes on tested kids to you, but this was his everyday life. You try living in his nightmare. You just don’t get it. Stop bothering him with this place.”

“Then who will go and look for the answers I need?”

“Anyone who isn’t Raven. Hell, I’ll go if it’ll spare him the trauma.”

Fink rushes to find Raven, before someone else crosses his path. And knowing Dax, that would be just the thing to do. It doesn’t take long to find the snow haired male in a room destroying everything in sight. Shelving, picture frames, dresser, and bedding. In the hall he’s destroyed a couple pillars, shattering their centers. A group of onlookers has gathered just out of earshot. Terror spread across the faces of men and women alike.

“Scatter, before I make life hell for you.”

He ducks into the room dodging a vase to the head. It’s a memory he’s lived over and over again. Always some out of control experiment that’s lost it’s temper. He goes in calms them down if possible, only to find out he’s helped make it easier for them to be put down.

“Subject Orange, is there a problem?”

“Wh-what ha-happ-happens to them?”

“They’re useless, we throw them away like all trash.”

“But they’re people. Kids like me.”

“No, they’re useless. Junk if you will. No longer of any use. There is no room for failures. And that’s what they are.”

“THEY’RE CHILDREN! WE ALL ARE!”

“That’s enough, unless you too wish to be terminated.”

“I. Am. A. Child.”

Raven’s fist nearly collides with his face, instead splattering the wall behind where his head had been.thankful that his reflexes, underused, are still in tact. In one swift motion he grabs hold of Raven’s face, the entirety of his body illuminating the room in an orange glow.

“Again.”

Once more the small boy raises an arm, grabbing hold of the person in front of him. Their memories, thoughts, and sight flooding his own vision. Fire sears through his veins, forcing him to draw back. When he does so the person drops to the floor, their face entirely burned away. Nothing but the muscle and exposed skeletal figure. He can’t tell if it’s him or them screaming at the top of their lungs. Terror turns to agony. An electricity pulsing through him.

“Send him back for now. We’ll try again in three hours.”

For a moment it appears to work,setting his friend back to an eased state of mind. However, the second his hand starts to move away he’s thrown back entirely. A mass of limbs and soreness. The glow hasn’t left his body and now he’s got an audience of onlookers full of confusion. Must be my lucky day or something.

There’s nothing her eyes can find down here. She’s looked every where she possibly can. And not a single map to be found. Not even amongst all the partially charred notes and photos. She couldn’t find an entry that led up into the house. Not without having to climb over large amounts of rubble or remove it. She blinks, soreness in her eyes and bones. Three days is a long time to be down here. Especially with the fumes she’s recently picked up on. Originally masked by decay.

“Curtis, did you find anything?”

Nothing, but she can hear him slinking around behind her. Or what she assumes to be him. Puffing air out of her cheeks she continues on through the papers she’s found. The slinking continues. Louder, closer, and metallic.

“Curtis, please. That’s really annoying. Just help me find a map or something.”

Again, no words, just a rather tentacle like appendage missing the side of her head by mere inches. Her pulse is in her throat as she pivots to look at her attacker. She blinks and tilts her head to the side. How is this face mine?

“Such a plucky little thing. That was me being nice. Although I would love to watch you bleed to death before me. Would make me feel so much better.”

“Wh-who are you?”

“Oh look little baby Cammie looks a little confused. You aren’t that stupid are you, little girl?”

“Just because I recognize you doesn’t mean I know your name. Who are you?”

“What you don’t even remember your big sister’s name?”

“I don’t have a sister, never have. I’m an only child.”

“Your so full of shit.”

Camellia’s quick to dodge another attack to her head, dumping herself behind a shelf as her brain runs rampant. This girl couldn’t be serious about them being related. There was just no way. Her whole life she’d been an only child. Her father’s only child. Being distracted nearly costs her an arm as suddenly the thing she thought to be a tentacle drills through. She now recognizes it as a vine with a metal texture. Where it missed her bicep there’s a tear in the jacket she’s wearing and blood is weeping into the material. So much for it being sturdy. If I don’t fight this is where I’ll die. Where the hell is Curtis?