Another long and painfully slow week had dragged by since the day Emily, with her usual calm yet firm tone, asked to be more welcoming toward the future visitors who would be coming to the facility. Since then, I’d pretty much forced myself not to "hide away" in my room. Honestly... that ended up becoming a terrible habit I picked up over ti.
When you really stop to think about it, the whole thing turned out to be pretty ironic in the end—especially considering what I’ve just found out. Apparently, if I had simply asked, they would’ve let roam freely through certain parts of the facility.
There’s even sothing like a "ti window" specific tis during the day when I could’ve walked through the halls without any restrictions or issues. The most frustrating part is that I only found out about all this now.
To be completely honest, I can't really bla Emily for forgetting to tell about that. According to her own words, I used to disappear from my room so often—and in such unpredictable ways—that this so-called "ti window" ended up being completely overlooked. In the end, they just assud that, regardless of any rules, I’d vanish whenever I felt like it... so, for them, it simply beca an irrelevant detail.
Anyway, a lot of changes were still underway. Several anomalies were constantly being relocated — so were sent down to the lower levels, where containnt was tighter, while others were moved up to the higher levels. I had been noticing this movent for a while; honestly, you can’t really say the staff at the facility was trying to be discreet throughout the whole process.
It wasn’t hard to piece it together. Both and my sisters — Nekra, Althea, and Nyara — were also relocated, moving up with the group of anomalies considered less dangerous. However, there was a subtle but clear difference: even with this location promotion, we still remained one floor below the others.
From what I could understand, we would be the last group to be seen by visitors... maybe a kind of impactful finale or a last barrier before the top. There was no way to know the exact criteria, but it was obvious that an order of display was being carefully planned.
Still, I imagined the reason why Nekra, Althea, Nyara, and I stayed on the floor below those anomalies was because of our appearances, which still bear so resemblance to humans.
Probably, it was a practical way of classification — an attempt at organization based on physical appearance. It makes sense considering that the anomalies relocated to the upper floors, except for a few exceptions, are mostly anomalous objects or entities whose forms don’t even co close to anything human.
Ironically, no matter which way you look at it, in the end, it’s basically going to turn into a zoo — the only difference is that, instead of ordinary animals, what’s on display for the public are anomalies.
But even with all that in mind, strangely, I don’t feel the aversion I thought I would at first. Actually, maybe the more accurate thing to say is that I just don’t care. I know that sounds odd, especially since I still carry human mories — although deep down, a quiet voice whispers that they were never really part of who I was. The truth is, from my point of view, the truly interesting ones are the humans.
If you stop to really think about it, the ocular power I release when my eyes glow should, in theory, allow to see the "weak spot" of everything around . However, with so mories I've started to recover, I noticed sothing strange about this power. Actually, instead of just revealing weak points, it seems like my eyes show sothing different—sothing I still can’t fully understand.
One thing I’ve noticed is the difference between anomalies and humans. While anomalies exhibit a certain subtlety or absence, humans, on the other hand, are always saturated to the brim with this “thing” I see—their bodies seem completely covered by the vibrant colors of the rainbow.
Of course, I’m not saying I never lived like a human. It would be a lie to say that. I had mories, experiences... monts that, no matter how distant they seem now, still carry a strange weight of familiarity.
Also, considering that from the mont I woke up, the only mories I had were those of a simple human, I had a strong impression that, sohow, I had beco an anomaly — when, in reality, I was still human. However, sothing inside makes believe that there is a force — whether it’s sothing external, soone else, or even myself — that doesn’t want humans to suffer or be hard because of .
Honestly, at this point, sothing inside started suspecting that there was a bigger reason behind all this... as if so force, or maybe soone, wanted to understand the human side. Of course, it could very well have been my own decision, a mont of clarity or impulse... and probably, I imagine it was done with my consent, conscious or not.
Still, what intrigues is why... why understanding humans seems so crucial to ? As if, sohow, this understanding was a key piece of sothing much bigger... sothing I still can’t fully see.
***
(POV - ???)
The apartnt reeked of stale cigarette smoke mixed with the sourness of spilled booze, as if decades of neglect were soaked into every corner. The walls, stained and peeling, showed layers of old paint stubbornly flaking off like dead skin.
On the ceiling, the fan spun slow and uneven, creaking with every turn, as if even it was exhausted by the suffocating routine. When the glass hit the chipped wooden table, the sound echoed louder than it should, breaking the dense, uncomfortable silence hanging in the air like an invisible presence.
He dropped the glass onto the table with a dull thud, as if even that simple gesture carried the weight of accumulated fatigue. He ran both hands over his face, dragging his fingers from his temples down to his chin, a useless attempt to shake off the burden he felt.
His eyes burned — not just from the cheap liquor already burning his throat, but from everything he’d been holding inside. The weight of that day... or rather, of all the days piling up, like each one added another invisible stone to his back.
The jokes at work had beco routine: "Maybe he’s just acting out to get attention... Poor guy..."
They said it mockingly, always accompanied by muffled giggles and sidelong glances. No one really cared about the reason. To them, it was just another show, another excuse to laugh during work hours.
The voices echoed in his head like an unbearable background track: "Another day of failure, huh? Congrats, champ..."
But none of that compared to the real cause of his downfall. The images returned, insistent, night after night, as if alive, lurking in the shadows of the room, waiting for the mont the alcohol started to wear off. When the bottle wasn’t enough to numb his mind, they ca. Faces. Muffled voices.
Fragnts of guilt he couldn’t bury. He shook his head hard, a futile attempt to banish the thoughts, as if the simple motion could dislodge the mories clinging to the back of his consciousness.
It was then, as he stuffed his hand into the pocket of the jacket carelessly thrown over the arm of the sofa, that he felt the rough touch of a folded piece of paper. His fingers hesitated for a second, recognizing the texture. It took a few monts for the mory to co back, dense and heavy like everything else that night.
The bar, two days ago. He was at the back of the counter, sunk into another glass, as if the drink could drown the thoughts chasing him for weeks. The place was thick with the bittersweet sll of cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke, and the jukebox’s muffled music barely covered the dragged murmur of conversations.
Then that strange man appeared. He ca as if carved straight from the shadows, silent, unexpected. Tall, thin, with skin too pale for soone who should be used to the city’s heat. His gray, ssy hair fell in thin strands over his shoulders, as if ti had forgotten to take him completely.
He wore a heavy, dark overcoat, a stark contrast to the suffocating heat of that sumr night. His gaze, though almost hidden beneath his disheveled bangs, seed to pierce through the whole room, as if searching for sothing... or soone.
There was sothing... deeply wrong about him. It wasn’t just the appearance, although that alone was enough to cause discomfort. It was the way he spoke... the slow rhythm, each word coming out with surgical precision, as if they were carefully chosen to hit whoever was listening.
The tone of his voice... low, firm, heavy with a strange gravity. Like each sentence carried an invisible weight... an uncomfortable certainty, impossible to ignore, as if everything he said was absolute truth.
“I can give you a chance. A real opportunity to make those responsible pay for what they did... these anomalies”
That last sentence wouldn’t leave the man’s mind, like a persistent whisper refusing to be silenced. No matter how much he drank, no matter the desperate effort to forget—those sa words echoed relentlessly, hamring his mind like a dark premonition.
Now, back in the quiet apartnt, he held the card between trembling fingers, running the tip of his index finger over the worn, yellowed edges of the paper, as if trying to extract so hidden aning from it, a futile attempt to control the whirlwind of thoughts consuming him.
He let out a bitter laugh, a rough sound torn from his throat, shaking his head slowly: “Idiot... like I’d fall for that...” he murmured, his eyes shining with a mix of disdain and exhaustion, like he’d heard that lie a thousand tis before.
But even as he spoke those words, his fingers trembled slightly, betraying the calm he tried to project. His other hand, almost instinctively, was already searching for his phone in his pocket, eyes avoiding any outside gaze. Because deep down, an unsettling doubt was growing—maybe he already had fallen.
***
(POV – Protagonist)
In the end, my train of thought was abruptly interrupted when the bedroom door creaked open with that tallic groan, as if the hinges were being forced with every movent. The sound softly echoed through the room, imdiately grabbing my attention.
Instinctively, I turned my head toward the door—and that’s when I saw Emily and Laura walking in, both with calm but determined steps, coming straight toward . On the other side of the room, Nekra didn’t even seem to notice the movent. She stayed focused on what she was doing, completely oblivious to the two.
She was sitting on the floor, legs crossed, watching with a strange gleam in her eyes as the small cloth dolls danced among themselves. At first glance, the scene might even seem cute... if not for the disturbing fact that those dolls moved on their own, performing synchronized steps as if obeying so inaudible music only they could hear.
Althea, on the other hand, didn’t seem very bothered by Emily and Laura’s presence. Still, her eyes were naturally drawn to them, watching with a silent curiosity, like soone evaluating sothing distant yet intriguing.
Curiously—and though it seed like an irrelevant detail—Althea was floating gently upside down, legs crossed in an almost ditative pose, as if sitting in the air, defying any logic.
This unusual position didn’t go unnoticed by Emily and Laura, who exchanged a quick, puzzled glance before shifting their focus back to , still clearly intrigued by the silent spectacle Althea was putting on.
Last but definitely not least was Nyara, who was standing just behind at that mont. Her delicate hand was gripping the fold of my loose shirt with an almost palpable shyness, while she hid her face behind my back, as if the world was too big to face head-on.
Nyara was exactly as always: shy, reserved, almost invisible to others, but to , incredibly endearing. I admit that despite all that reserve, I never minded—it’s actually one of the cutest things about her.
The next mont, Emily slowly approached and stopped right in front of . Her eyes, shining with a mix of curiosity and calmness, studied with a relaxed composure, as if every word she was about to say had been carefully chosen in her mind before even leaving her lips.
I remained still, patient, fixing my gaze on her, silently waiting to hear what she had to say. anwhile, Laura noticed my stare and, with that radiant smile that seed to light up any room, waved at with an infectious energy.
At the sa ti, Emily finally broke the silence. Her soft voice, almost a whisper that filled the room with an unsettling calm, echoed gently through the space: “In a few hours, the upper sections of the facility will be opened to the public”
She paused briefly, her eyes fixed on as if weighing every word before continuing: “We’re saving you and your sisters for the end of the tour, because, you know... you four will probably make the biggest impact”
She paused briefly, the silence between us becoming almost palpable. Her eyes locked onto mine, deep and piercing, as if trying to silently extract a confirmation. Then, in a low voice tinged with restrained irony, she asked: “By the way, you still rember what we talked about a few days ago, right? About... well, your unauthorized outings from the cell”
“Can you avoid going outside that day?” Emily asked, her voice calm and controlled, almost like nothing here could disturb her. I just nodded, silently confirming what she said. A subtle smile ford at the corner of her lips, answering my gesture.
She continued in a more relaxed tone: “The scientists and guards are already used to you being here, but ordinary civilians... well...”
Emily paused briefly, furrowing her brow slightly as if carefully considering her next words. Then, an ironic smile slipped across her face, tinged with a hint of mischief. She went on: “They’ll probably have a heart attack if you or your sisters suddenly walk out of the cell”
Well... I don’t exactly know why Emily thought that way. Honestly, even though my sisters and I look human, a closer look reveals that our resemblance is limited to our physical structure. Inside, we’re sothing completely different, almost aliens in disguise.
Still, I nodded at Emily’s words, and seeing my confirmation, she smiled softly, sliding her hand to stroke my head. I can’t say it was unpleasant, but since I’m no longer a child, the gesture was a bit awkward.
Anyway, putting all that aside, for so reason — maybe because nothing ever seems to go smoothly when anomalies are involved — I have this strange feeling. It’s like sothing invisible is hanging in the air, an unsettling sensation that won’t leave alone.
As always, I get the impression that things won’t be much different from the other tis. Honestly, I can’t shake this persistent thought that everything is about to spiral out of control again.
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