Ten. Ten. Ten. You came back. How?

  Kazou's hands shook as he gripped the collar of his coat, a futile attempt to anchor himself against the storm of thoughts..

  Kazou stumbled out of the bar, the cold night air slapping him awake, but his mind remained foggy, still clinging to the remnants of alcohol that had clouded his thoughts. The street stretched out before him, pale streetlights casting long, trembling shadows on the wet pavement. The sound of his shoes echoed in the silence, his pace slow at first, disoriented, as if his body had forgotten how to move without the weight of everything he had just learned—and everything he had just lost.

  The words still hung in the air, floating in his mind like some unholy prayer:

  "I’m your son... aren’t I?"

  Kazou shook his head, as though to rid himself of the sound of that voice. But the deeper he tried to push it away, the more it dug in, sinking its claws into his soul. His hands shook as he gripped the collar of his coat, a futile attempt to anchor himself against the storm of thoughts that threatened to drown him.

  Where had Ten gone? He disappeared into the night so fast...

  Something was telling Kazou to follow the man. Something was off. He needed to make amends. He needed to apologize to Ten.

  "Ten?!" Kazou hastily shouted out. "Ten, where did you go? It's Father!"

  Suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream sliced through the silence, jagged and full of terror. It wasn’t Ten. It wasn’t even a woman. The voice was deep, male—haunted with a raw desperation. Kazou froze in his tracks. His heart thundered in his chest. His thoughts were spinning: First, losing his fiancée, and now this... was it some kind of sick joke? His instincts screamed at him to run, but something in the air, thick with dread, tethered him to the spot. He didn’t have to be a fool to recognize it. Something was pulling him forward. It was the alcohol. It had to be.

  Then the scream came again, this time ragged and continuous, a soul-wrenching cry that felt like it was gnawing at his very bones.

  “HELP ME! STOP! NO! NO—PLEASE!”

  It wasn’t just a scream. It was a plea—agonizing, desperate. His pulse quickened, and his legs moved of their own accord, propelling him toward the source. He wasn’t sure if he was running from fear or toward it.

  The streets were empty, the clock in a nearby window reading 1:30 AM. No cars. Nothing but the hum of the night air. He stumbled onto the sidewalk, gasping for breath, when his ears caught it again. The screams—closer now. And they were coming from… the old warehouse. Hidden in the shadows of the woods. Kazou’s eyes darted toward the looming structure, its silhouette barely visible against the dark, oppressive trees. It wasn't far from the city streets, but it was well hidden.

  His feet moved before he could think. He ducked into the trees, branches scratching at his face as he pushed through the dense undergrowth. The woods closed in around him, the silence of the night thick with foreboding. As he emerged from the trees, the warehouse loomed before him.

  And then, a woman appeared.

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  A woman—staggering out of the darkness like a ghost, but her movements were jagged, desperate. Her clothes were ripped and soaked with something dark and thick, her skin pale, her face twisted in terror, and her eyes wide, vacant. She was stumbling, barely able to keep her feet under her, but her mouth opened in a scream. A scream so shrill, so heartbreaking, it sent ice through Kazou’s veins.

  “HELP ME!”

  The word was strangled, like she could barely choke it out between sobs of agony. Kazou froze for a moment, his breath hitching in his throat. He wanted to run, but he couldn't—he was rooted to the spot, unable to tear his eyes away from her twisted form. Then, with no warning, she collapsed into him.

  The force of her body slamming into his knocked the breath from his lungs, and before he could react, her hands shot up, claws sinking into his shoulders. Her body shuddered against him, wracked with violent, trembling sobs as she clung to him for dear life. Somehow, Kazou was still standing upright. Her breath came in short, panicked gasps as she cried out again, louder now, like she was begging him to take away her suffering.

  “PLEASE! DON'T GO THERE! NO... NO... STOP... PLEASE HELP ME...” Her voice was strangled, barely coherent. "DON'T CALL THE POLICE! HE WILL KILL YOU!"

  Kazou's eyes widened as he felt her sink lower, slowly crumbling to her knees on the cold ground. Her weight dragged him down with her, and he fell beside her, kneeling in the dirt. His hands shook as he tried to hold her, to comfort her, but all he could feel was her body trembling uncontrollably in his arms. And then, he saw it. Her leg. The sight of it made his stomach churn. Her flesh was torn—raw, jagged, and the blood was pouring from the wound, spilling onto the earth beneath them.

  Was it a gunshot wound? How would she have gotten shot? In Japan, guns are illegal...

  “What happened?” he asked, already pulling off his tie and dropping into triage mode.

  His fingers worked quickly to untie his tie, pulling it off as quickly as he could to try and stop the bleeding. Old instincts took over—pressure on the femoral artery, check the pulse, keep her conscious. It was all muscle memory. But his hands still shook. Kazou had gone to medical school years ago... He had originally wanted to become a pediatric surgeon before becoming a scientist. But what he learned was pretty helpful, especially if he wanted to conduct safe experiments and work with kids. He wrapped it tightly around her leg, desperate to apply pressure, to do anything that would help. The woman cried out again, louder this time—so raw, so filled with anguish that Kazou recoiled. She was barely able to breathe through the sobs, her chest heaving, the pain inside her so overwhelming that it seemed to consume her from the inside out.

  “He killed them,” she gasped, voice jagged and barely audible. “He killed everyone! If you go in there, he’ll kill you too!”

  “I-I don't understand! What happened?! Who did this?” he asked, voice low but urgent. “Focus. Tell me who!"

  "DOCTOR! DOCTOR! I NEED! ARE YOU A DOCTOR?!" She cried,

  "Shh... Try to calm down. Don't speak too much, you'll lose your strength." Kazou replies gently.

  She screamed again—louder, a high-pitched wail that shattered the night—and then, with a shudder, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she collapsed against him, unconscious. Kazou caught her and quickly pressed two fingers to her carotid artery. Weak pulse—thready but present. He checked her respirations: shallow and irregular, but steady enough for now. Her body trembled as adrenaline dumped from her system.

  “It’s not just the bleeding… she’s traumatized beyond normal stress response,” he muttered.

  With practiced care, he laid her down at the base of a nearby tree, lifting her legs slightly to promote circulation. His hands hovered over her briefly, unsure of whether to stabilize or move her again, but she needed a hospital. Soon.

  He looked up.

  The warehouse loomed in the darkness, massive and silent. She’d said not to go in.

  But whatever was inside had nearly destroyed her.

  And now, he had to find out why.

  Something had happened here. Something terrible.

  

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