The tall man terrified him. A long beard framed his gaunt face, there was hardly any hair left on his head, and he stared down at Youri with deep black eyes that looked as though they had not rested in years. A heavy cloth hung over his body and swayed with each slow step he took. When he spoke, his voice came out harsh and gravelly, like something very old.
"This way," he said, lifting his chained hands to point toward the lab.
Knox gave Youri's back a light, almost careless pat. "Go on. I'll be along shortly. He'll give you a little tour." His smile turned sinister. "After all, this is going to be your new home."
The chained man shoved Youri through the doors. Up close, the operating room was even worse than it had looked through the glass: the stench, the stains, the cold metal everywhere, and all of it breathing danger. The man pushed him again, steering him toward a small door at the far end of the room. When Youri reached it, it swung open on its own and revealed a long corridor beyond. Rusted pipes ran along its arched ceiling between hanging lights that gave off the same sick green glow. Metal grates rattled underfoot, and the tiles on the walls, which had once been blue, were cracked and peeling. Heavy barred doors stood along both sides, one after another, like the entrances to a dungeon.
Youri crept forward with the chained man following behind him. As he passed one of the cells, he heard harsh breathing like an animal's. Then a hiss tore through the air and something hurled itself against the bars. Its face was hidden behind a curtain of long dark hair that hung down past its knees, and through that curtain two crimson eyes glowed, following Youri hungrily as he passed.
They walked for what felt like forever. The corridor seemed to stretch further the longer they went. Cell after cell held shapes that were part human and part something else. By the time they reached a door at the very end — a clean, shining white one — cold sweat was running down Youri's back.
What lay behind that door was something no ten-year-old should ever have seen. It opened onto an enormous room with a large wooden table at its center, spotless and empty. Behind the table sat a black chair that looked far too comfortable for a place like this. But it was the walls that turned the room into a nightmare. Shelves climbed them from floor to ceiling, crowded with jars of eyes, organs and floating skulls suspended in green fluid. Among the jars hung cages holding twisted things, some shaped like birds, some shaped like people, with two arms and two legs, wrong in every possible way.
Youri doubled over and was sick on the metal floor.
Slow, confident footsteps came up behind him, and Knox stepped into the room wearing a wide, pleased grin. "So you finally made it," he said, and then he turned to the chained man. "Thank you, Andy. You may go back to your cell."
Andy nodded once and left, shutting the door behind him. Alone with Knox, Youri burst into tears, and Knox's smile only deepened.
"Oh, pure boy," he murmured, wiping away one of the tears with an unsettling tenderness. "Don't worry. I don't think you'll end up on my shelves. Those were just species with no potential." He went to the table, opened a drawer, and took out a syringe, tapping it until a small bead of liquid welled at the tip of the needle. "You, my boy, have plenty of potential. And with this, we're going to make it skyrocket."
He started toward him. Youri scrambled backward until his back hit the locked door. His legs gave out and he slid to the floor, shaking and helpless. Knox crouched in front of him, slid the needle into his arm, and whispered, "Don't worry. This won't hurt. I'll see you in the white room."
The colors of the room twisted together, and everything dissolved into darkness.
When Youri came to, a painful white light was burning into his eyes. He tried to lift his head and found that he couldn't move. Thick brown straps held his arms and legs down against a metal table. He screamed for help again and again, but no one came. As he looked around in terror, he recognized the room — it was the same operating room he had seen through the little window. The way out was only a few steps away, but the straps were so tight he could not even bend his wrists.
The double doors opened, and Knox came in.
"Oh, you're awake," he said casually.
Youri glared up at him. "Why are you doing this?"
"I told you, didn't I?" Knox smiled. "You have potential. And I'm addicted to potential."
"That doesn't make any sense!" Youri shouted.
Knox picked through the metal cart and came up with a small saw in one hand and a pair of pincers in the other. "Ah. Right. You're ten," he said mockingly. "Let me simplify it for you." He laid the tools on the tray and leaned in. "When we're born, we all receive a gift — our genes. Some are priceless, some are worthless, and some are so special that people will kill for them. Institutes were built for the sole purpose of extracting those genes from special people and using them to create others who were far superior."
He began to walk slowly around the table.
"That went on for decades, until somebody found a way to grow an artificial human — one loaded with every gene they had ever collected. The perfect vessel. But the lab that made him was destroyed by the Terrian Empire, because the Empire had no wish to see a super-soldier capable of rivaling them." He smirked. "What they overlooked was one small detail. The artificial child was never meant to grow up in that lab. He was meant to grow up normally, and to awaken his potential over time."
Youri's eyes, already red from crying, went wide.
Knox leaned over him until their faces were close. "Do you understand who I'm talking about?" he whispered. "I even left a letter with you, so you'd grow up thinking someone loved you." His grin spread wider. "Perhaps that was a little cruel. And yes, I meant to do all this later on. But you found your way down here early, so — lucky you."
"What do you mean!?" Youri sobbed.
Knox slammed the tools down onto the tray. "Do you know how many people I had to kill just to get you out of that orphanage!?"
The tears were pouring down Youri's cheeks now, and his voice shook. "Did you do anything to Lira?"
Knox burst out laughing. "That woman? I asked her twice, politely, and she still refused me — and then she had the audacity to beg me to save her orphanage. She deserved to die."
"You monster!" Youri screamed. "Why!? Why!?"
Knox pressed a cloth over his mouth and muffled his cries. "Do you want to know how she died?" he asked, smiling. "I'll tell you anyway." He leaned closer, and his eyes shone with something like madness. "She was out shopping, perfectly peacefully, when she happened to bump into — well — me." He tapped his own chest. "I helped her carry her bags. She wouldn't stop talking about how she'd left you alone at the house and needed to hurry back, so I offered her a ride. And as we drove, I saw a pole up ahead and I thought, what a perfect gravestone. So I put my foot down. Hard. The pole went straight through the car and crushed your little friend."
Youri screamed into the cloth, his eyes flooding.
Knox bent down and whispered into his ear. "And as she lay there dying, covered in her own blood, she whispered a single name." He paused, savoring it. "And it wasn't yours, boy."