Maddox, stop here.

Anaia's quiet, yet demanding voice rang through Maddox's ears like a distant echo. He wasn't in control of his body as he hid in a corner of it, trapped inside of a shell.

Perhaps it was a warning from her as his wings retracted into his back, leaving him to plummet onto the warm, sandy ground.

With a grunt, deeper than his normal voice would have been- should have been- escaped from his lips as Anaia came into view. She was no longer just a simple voice in his head dictating his every move, but a goddess who stood in front of him, just as she had done days ago on a rooftop.

She wore the same white dress and masquerade mask, both trimmed in a glistening golden color that perfectly accented her eyes and long brown hair. She was beyond beautiful.

She was perfect.

"Maddox," her voice was soft, almost cooing him into a trance, yet she continued. "Rise forward, take back your body."

Almost instantly, Maddox was returned to his normal self, no longer trapped inside of his body. He reached out his fingers, almost the equivalent of pinching himself to make sure that he was still alive.

"You have to find Claire. I know you have questions about why you felt trapped-"

"Yeah, what was-"

Anaia lifted a single finger, shushing Maddox without having to say a word. "I implanted you with a chip, right behind your left ear. I can control you, Maddox. You're mine, and you will protect my daughter as I told you to do."

"When did you-"

"When you first heard my voice. While you were unconscious, I spoke to you. I know you remember it. I implanted the chip then, and you'll bend to my will." The words were almost like a warning to Maddox, an intense growl that shouldn't be coming from a graceful woman's lips.

The beautiful ones are always the craziest, Maddox thought to himself.

"So you think I'm beautiful and crazy, Maddox?"

"I didn't say that." Maddox lifted his hands in defense, still laying on the sandy ground that nearly burned his skin.

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you-"

"Now is not the times for questions." Lifting her finger in an upright, quick motion, Anaia forced Maddox onto his feet, proving her dominance over him.

So much for manhood.

"Go and find her, and when you do, I'll be there waiting for you."

Maddox stood, rocking side to side. An intense fear was installed into his mind in those moments, and he dared not question it. But he wouldn't allow for her to control him. If he hated one thing, it was being controlled.

"Why don't you save her yourself?" Maddox crossed his arms, his brow furrowed over his eyes. He put on his best "brave face" and stared intently at the woman.

With another quick motion of her hand, the collar of Maddox's shirt lifted, nearly choking him as he was lifted into the air. Anaia simply pursed her lips, staring at the nineteen-year-old boy as he nearly ran out of air.

Her eyes were that of pure evil; a coldness about them that he hadn't seen before. Dropping her hand to her side, Maddox fell onto the ground once again, face planting into the sand. Anaia's lips were forced into a smile but looked as if she hadn't faked such a thing at all.

She looked happy.

She looks like a goddess, Maddox thought, but she's pure evil.

Hearing his thoughts once again, Anaia nodded with a crooked laugh, then relaxed her face into a stern grimace. "That I am. And if you say anything to my daughter about it, I'll kill you myself."

Claire woke in a dimly lit room, the grey stone walls seeming as if they were closing in on her. Her heart began to flutter as sweat caressed her cheeks, soaking her hair. Nausea rushed through her stomach like tidal waves, in and out and back again.

Swinging her arms back and forth but with no avail to actually move them, Claire shook the chair she was tied down to back and forth before she fell, hitting her head on the cold, hard floor.

A throbbing pain shot through the back of her head as she lay limp on the ground, tied hopelessly to a chair. Suddenly, the dim light in the room grew exceedingly bright as a door at the head of the room swung open.

The same doctor who had "greeted" her at the door of the laboratory stood in a white lab coat, a clipboard and pen in his hand as he scribbled down notes while walking in circles around Claire.

"In quite a panic, are we?" The man chuckled in nearly a growl as he reached for the top of the chair Claire sat in, lifting it and her off of the stone floor.

"Who are you? And what do you want?" Claire exclaimed, nearly screaming but finding herself losing her voice. Hanging her head in front of her as the doctor continued to walk around her, Claire struggled to catch her breath.

It's getting harder to breathe. I can't hold on. Letting go might not be so bad.

No, I can't let go. I can't. I have things to do. A life to live.

Her stubborn attitude and willingness to give up on things easily had never ended well before, and she couldn't guess that they would cooperate now. Pick a side, she thought to herself.

Stubborn.

"I don't want anything from you." The doctor lifted Claire's chin, aiming her head straight at him. "We all do."

Claire's head began to spin, and she felt as if the room were moving in circles around her. Though blurry, she was able to make out a name on the shiny tag on the doctor's chest: Dr. Bartone.

"So, Dr. Bartone," Claire allowed for the name to roll smoothly off of her tongue, managing to bring a hint of sarcasm into her voice. She found doing so incredibly difficult.

Everything hurt. Talking itself hurt, much less having to look up at the pudgy old man in front of her. He looked to be in his late fifties, perhaps about 290 pounds, resting at a height of at least six feet tall.

He's a big dude, Claire thought to herself. There's no way I can fight him alone.

"What do you want from me?"

Dr. Bartone chuckled once more before he bent down to Claire's ear, whispering in a low, hefty voice. "I want your power to destroy the world."