Page 131 of Wicked Little Nightmare

"No!" I snarled, my fingers digging into the couch. "I need to see this. I need to remember." Sarah kept talking, but I didn’t hear her. Her voice replaced by the ones in the room.

The doctors were talking, their voices echoing in my head.

"Beautiful specimen," one said, holding up a squirming, bloody bundle. My daughter. Our daughter.

"Careful," another warned. "The subject can still hear everything."

Someone laughed, a hearty, belly laugh. “Oh, don’t worry about her. TL97 will wipe any trace of this from her memory. She will forget all about this, her child, anything that ever existed outside of the foster homes she lives in. We’ve perfected the formula and it’s flawless.”

“Excellent. Nicely done, Christopher.” The doctor said, still holding my screaming girl in the air like she was a fucking trophy. “Now that we have this, we can let them live and rot as they will.”

Christopher… no… it cannot be. Father Christopher?

“I’ll put the recall words in her subconscious memory bank, just in case we need to activate her. Patient Y is already set for military removal. Patient X is one of the best breeders we could have asked for. We should keep her here.”

“Sure, whatever you want. I have the child; I’m finished with trials for now. Take the baby to Anne, let her get her ready for her ceremony. Ensure Janine is ready.” The doctor spoke in clipped words, handing the baby off to someone outside of my vision as he walked around to my head, stroking my hair. “Well done, little one.”

As they took her away, I felt something inside me shatter and reform. A resolve, hard and unbreakable as diamond. I'd find her. It was just a matter of time.

I blinked, the world slowly coming back into focus. The living room came back into focus. A stark contrast to the sterile nightmare I'd just relived. My eyes landed on Sarah, who was sitting there in terror, clutching a knife to her side.

“Scared, Sarah?”

"Lakey?" Sarah's voice was cautious, probing. "How are you feeling?"

I wanted to laugh. What a stupid fucking question. She was terrified of me and asking how the fuck I was feeling. Clearly not as traumatized as she was feeling right now. I'd been gutted, hollowed out, and filled with razor blades. I could tear this whole fucking house down with my bare hands.

Instead, I smiled.

"I’m great. Thanks for asking."

Sarah's brow furrowed, her hand tightening around the knife. Kyle was standing in the doorway, watching me, his hand casually on his gun. "What you've experienced... it's a lot to process. We should discuss—"

"Nah, I'm good. I got what I needed.” I cut her off, rising from the couch. "Think I'll grab a snack. All this remembering's made me hungry."

As I headed for the kitchen, my mind was racing.Cam. Our daughter. Chimera.It was all connected, a twisted web of lies and pain. And at the center of it all, me. Their perfect little killer.

I could hear Rose and Cam from the kitchen, casual chatter and laughter. It sounded so... normal. Like the world hadn't just turned inside out.

I paused at the doorway, watching them. Cam was leaning against the counter, that cocky grin on his face as he regaled Rose with some bullshit story. He looked so at ease, so fucking oblivious to the storm raging inside me. Until he looked at me and his face hardened ever so slightly.

Part of me wanted to march in there, grab him by the throat, and tell him everything. But another part wanted to wait until tonight, because tonight we could be alone, we could mourn and plot and plan.

So, I plastered on my best ditzy smile and sauntered into the kitchen. "Hey guys, got any cookies left? I'm absolutely famished."

I grabbed a cookie from the baking sheet on the counter, my movements fluid and casual despite the chaos in my head. Cam's eyes met mine, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Everything alright, babe?" he asked, his tone light but eyes sharp.

I bit into the cookie, savoring the sweetness as I contemplated my next move. "Sure, babe, we will talk later though," I chirped, swallowing the bite before taking another and hopping ontothe counter, swinging my legs like a carefree child. Inside, my mind was a whirlwind of fragmented memories and burning questions.

"So, what's the plan for dinner?" Rose piped up, breaking the tension. "I was thinking maybe I could make chicken and potatoes?"

I laughed, the sound hollow to my own ears. "Sounds perfect. I'm absolutely starving. Growing a conscience really works up an appetite."

Cam's eyes narrowed at that, catching the barb hidden beneath the joke. We were going to have a long talk after dinner, and I was excited for it. He was going to be thrilled to find out that I hadn’t been raped, and that she had been his all along.

As the others changed the subject, I retreated into my thoughts. The truth was a weapon now, and I needed to wield it carefully. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. I had the sense I could trust Kyle and Sarah, but I didn’t want them to know about her. Not yet. It felt so fresh, so new that I wanted to savor it, to keep it to myself. And Cam of course.

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