"Memory is the diary that we all carry about with us, but when the pages are torn out, what remains?"
— Oscar Wilde

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Roselyn sat in the center of the sterile room, her eyes vacant, her mind a battlefield of fragments. The hum of the facility’s machines was constant, relentless, like a pulse that never allowed her to rest. The cold metal of the chair pressed into her skin, but she barely noticed it anymore. She had become numb to her surroundings, as much as she was becoming numb to herself.

A single memory surfaced—Kendall’s laugh. It was soft, warm, like sunlight breaking through the thick clouds that seemed to shroud her mind. She grasped at it, clung to it like a lifeline in a storm, but even as she did, the edges began to blur. Her mind, once sharp and full of life, was now a haze, where everything felt distant and unreachable. The facility had seen to that.

Her heart clenched as the memory faded, slipping away before she could hold on to it. Another piece of herself, lost. The disorientation washed over her again, making her dizzy. She put her hands to her head, squeezing her temples as if she could somehow stop the world from spinning.

“Remember…”

Her own voice echoed in her head, but it was a ghost of a thought. What was she supposed to remember? She didn’t know anymore. Faces, names, places—they drifted in and out like whispers she couldn’t quite catch. Her mother’s voice, her brother’s smile, the way she used to feel—strong, certain, alive. All of it was gone, slipping through her fingers like sand.

The sharp beep of the machines jerked her out of the fleeting clarity she had tried to hold on to. The door slid open, and the guards walked in, their steps heavy and deliberate. They didn’t say anything. They didn’t need to. She knew what was coming next.

Her eyes closed, as if bracing for the inevitable. The sessions. The procedures. They were going to take more of her away. Every time she came back, she was less of herself. And every time, it got harder to remember who she was before all this started.

The guards grabbed her arms, dragging her up from the chair, but Roselyn was too weak to resist. Her feet shuffled along the floor as they led her down the cold, narrow hallway. She glanced at the walls, blank and oppressive, and for a moment, she remembered a different hallway. A different place. It was bright, colorful—was it her home? A school? The memory was gone before she could answer her own question.

She was placed in the chair again, the restraints cold against her wrists and ankles. The machines around her clicked and hummed to life, like vultures circling their prey.

“Kendall,” she whispered, almost unconsciously. Her name felt heavy on her tongue, like it belonged to someone else. But the feeling—the attachment—was still there, faint, a shadow of what it used to be.

“Kendall…” she tried again, louder this time, but her voice cracked. Did she even exist, or was she just another figment of her broken mind?

The machine whirred louder, drowning out her thoughts as the familiar pain began to spread through her body. It was subtle at first, like the sting of a needle, but soon it grew, crawling up her spine, sinking into her bones. She bit down on her lip, forcing herself not to scream.

They wanted her broken. She knew that much. They wanted to strip her of everything that made her… her. But she wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. Not today.

Her mind slipped again, though. The more she tried to focus, the more her memories splintered, fragments scattering in all directions. Faces—her family, friends, Kendall—all flashing before her like fading images in a dream. Her breath quickened as she tried to pull them back. But it was like reaching for water; the harder she grasped, the faster they slipped away.

The scent of lavender. Her mother’s perfume? No—Kendall’s. Her cologne, faint, almost gone now.

“Stay with me,” she muttered to herself, though her voice wavered. The lavender smell dissipated, and with it, the fragile grip she had on her sanity.

But it wasn’t just the facility trying to tear her apart—Roselyn had heard something she wasn’t supposed to.

It had been late, past curfew, when she’d stumbled across Krane’s office. The light under the door was faint, but the hushed voices behind it were unmistakable. She had been careful, so careful not to be noticed, pressing herself against the wall just outside the room, barely breathing.

"This is the final piece of the Genesis Project, Krane," Lisbeth's voice low, her tone almost chastising. "We're past the point of perfection. This was always going to be messy. You knew that."

Elena added. "The letters, the texts-it's all just a game, Krane," she said, her voice coldly practical. "The real work begins when she's taken during the vacation. This is just the prelude, making her uneasy, rattling her cage."

She? Who was that? Who were they talking about? Roselyn's thoughts were in a turmoil.

"Yes," Lisbeth added smoothly, "the real deal starts then. We're not expecting her to crack now. This is all about making her scared enough to fall right into our hands when the time comes."

Who were they talking about? They wanted to take her? For what — a project, the reason we're all here, Roselyn thought.

Her thoughts were invaded by Krane's words. "Fine," he muttered. "But we can't afford any missteps. The Genesis Project can't fail."

Roselyn’s heart had nearly stopped. Who were they talking about?

Then she remembered. She had heard someone say something about someone next, next in line — was it a Marlene, no it wasn't. Mary? No— no that wasn't it. Maya?

The name echoed in her mind like a distant bell, tugging at something buried deep in her fragmented memories. 'Maya…' Kendall had mentioned that name before. It had been brief, almost casual, but now the pieces were coming together in jagged flashes. Kendall had warned her, though at the time, Roselyn hadn’t fully grasped the significance of it. Maya had a connection to all of this, Kendall had said, she said they were after her, that she heard Krane say something — but the details were fuzzy, as if her mind had deliberately kept it locked away.

Now it made sense. That’s why she had stayed. That’s why she had listened.

That's when she mistakenly hit the door causing a faint creak. Shit. That was it, she had blown her cover. The sound echoed through the room, well they might not have heard it — that's what she thought. She didn't even have time to leave or run away, Krane already moved towards her. She was standing, frozen in place, eyes widened in horror.

"Elena," he said, his voice low and commanding.

But Elena was already ahead of him. "Roselyn rather C-003," she called out softly, her tone almost soothing. "Why don't you come inside? There's no need to be afraid."

Roselyn hesitated, every fiber of her being screaming at her to run, but her legs felt like lead, rooted to the spot. She could only stare as Elena's gaze bore into her, icy and unyielding. There was all reasons to run — she knew what would happen next. She should have ran. She heard too much — more than they'd want her to hear.

Krane stopped just short of her, his voice calm but dangerous. "It's rude to eavesdrop."

Roselyn swallowed hard, her mind racing, but she couldn't find any words. All she knew was that whatever she had just overheard wasn't meant for her-and it was far, far bigger than she had ever imagined.

That was why they’d dragged her here, why they were trying to erase her now. She knew too much.

Too much she couldn't even do anything about.

Her legs had barely carried her down the hall before they caught her. A sharp crack of pain at the base of her skull had sent her spiraling to the ground, consciousness fading in and out as the guards dragged her back toward the lab.

They had stood over her as she regained her senses, their faces twisted in cruel smiles.

"Thought you could eavesdrop and walk away?" one of the guards sneered, tightening the restraints around her wrists.

Krane’s cold voice had cut through the air next. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on her like she was some kind of specimen. “You should have run when you had the chance, Roselyn. But you didn’t. And now you’ve forced my hand.”

She tried to pull herself together, but the pain was too overwhelming. The memories of Maya, of Kendall’s warning, danced just out of reach. “Maya…” she managed to choke out, the name slipping from her lips before she could stop herself.

Krane’s eyes narrowed. “What do you know about Maya?”

Roselyn blinked, her head swimming. Did she know anything? She only remembered the fear in Kendall’s voice when she’d mentioned Maya’s name. It had been right before… before everything fell apart. Kendall had been trying to warn her, to tell her something vital. But now her mind was fogged with pain, and she couldn’t recall the details.

“I—” Roselyn’s voice cracked. “Kendall… she mentioned her.”

“Kendall,” Krane repeated, his voice flat. “Of course. She’s been a problem from the beginning.”

Elena, who had been lingering in the background, stepped forward with a smirk. “Maybe Kendall will be next, then. We’ll find out just how much she knows too.”

Roselyn's stomach twisted at the thought of Kendall being dragged into this. She had to warn her, somehow, but there was no escape now. Her vision blurred as the guards began their work, strapping her to the machine, preparing for the procedure.

“Whatever Kendall told you,” Krane said, his voice fading as the machine powered up, “won’t matter soon. We’ll make sure of that.”

Right.

They just wanted to show her how much power they had over her.

How they always have, will always have.

The procedure intensified, her mind clouding, becoming harder to distinguish between what was real and what wasn’t. There was a voice in the distance—her own, or someone else’s? It didn’t matter. The darkness was coming, and she could feel it wrapping around her like a shroud.

A memory broke through, sharp and clear. A younger version of herself standing in front of a mirror, strong and unshaken. She had powers back then—real powers. The facility had made her have them, twisted them. Her reflection looked so foreign now, compared to the hollow version sitting in the chair, strapped down, helpless.

Another flash—Kendall’s hand gripping hers, both of them running, escaping, free for just a moment. The memory glowed brightly before it, too, faded.

The door to the lab opened, and a familiar figure stepped in. Roselyn struggled to lift her head, fighting against the haze, but even through the pain, she knew who it was. Kendall. She stood there, eyes filled with a hope Roselyn could barely recognize. Her face flickered in Roselyn’s vision—at times clear, at other moments blurred, as if her mind couldn’t fully hold onto her.

“Roselyn,” her voice was steady, even though she couldn’t hide the desperation behind it. She crossed the room in a few strides, kneeling beside her. “Stay with me, okay? You’re stronger than this. You’re stronger than them.”

She wanted to believe her. She wanted to pull herself together, to be the version of herself that Kendall remembered. But she couldn’t find her footing. The machines hummed louder, buzzing at the edges of her thoughts, pulling her deeper into the fog.

“I’m—” her voice cracked, the words stuck in her throat. She felt Kendall’s hand slip into hers, warm and grounding. But even that felt distant now, like she was watching someone else’s life.

“You’re still in there. I know you are,” Kendall’s voice trembled just slightly, the crack in her facade showing. She squeezed Roselyn’s hand. “I’m not giving up on you, and neither are you. Remember?”

The guards shifted in the background, growing impatient. Kendall didn’t have much time. Roselyn could feel it. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest as she looked into Kendall’s eyes, searching for something—anything—to hold on to.

For a brief second, she did. Her fingers tightened around Kendall’s, and she saw the flash of recognition in Kendall’s eyes. She was still here, somewhere beneath the layers of confusion, of pain. It was faint, but it was there.

Then the door slammed open again. More guards. The moment was ripped away, and Roselyn felt herself slipping, the fog consuming her once more.

“Take her to the chamber,” one of the guards barked, grabbing Kendall by the arm to pull her away.

“No!” Kendall fought back, but it was no use. She was outnumbered, and they dragged her from the room. “Roselyn, fight them! Don’t let them—”

The door slammed shut, cutting off her voice. And with that, the last piece of Roselyn’s strength dissolved.

Her head lolled forward, her vision blurring as the guards strapped her to a different chair. The pain ebbed for a moment, leaving behind only numbness, but the numbness was worse. It meant she was losing.

They were going to take her somewhere deeper this time. A place she might not return from.

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Okay we're finally done with chapter eight! This was not an chapter to write, so many writer blocks. It was interesting to write though!

Anyways what do you guys think? Don't forget to leave your thoughts in the comments.

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Btw, some edits would be made on chapters to not leave holes.

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Muah💋!
~Rhoda