TRIGGER WARNING: This story includes scenes of cruelty, bullying, and ableism. If these themes are difficult for you, please prioritize your well-being and read with caution.
Chapter 39: Brianna
The whole time Dad spoke, he never looked up once. Brianna knew because she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him.
I don’t understand.
A million thoughts raced through her head — too fast to catch, too slippery to hold.
I killed Noah?
It didn’t make sense. She waited for Dad to elaborate, to explain what he really meant. Noah couldn’t be dead. She’d seen him just the other day, heard him confess to everything he’d done.
And why the fuck would she cut her own hair off?
No — Keara had done that. She remembered her taunts. The searing pain as the blade dug into her scalp.
Dad’s head hung so low that if he wasn’t tied to the chair, he’d probably have fallen to the floor. He held back a sob as he spoke. “That’s when I found the tire iron in the garage, under some dirty clothes that stank of smoke. It was… covered in dried blood. I—I got rid of it, and the clothes. The trunk of my car was stained with blood too… I had to scrub it clean.”
A tire iron. A tire iron.
A bell rang in her head. A vague flicker of a memory, the kind you have from your early childhood that you’re not sure if you can fully trust.
The ground was painted with white lines, like a parking lot. She held the tire iron, the coarse, gritty texture rough in her hand. Blood dripped off the rusty end of it and onto the ground. And someone was crying. No — screaming. Begging for mercy.
Her grip tightened as she raised the tire iron above her head.
It was unbearably hot now, her face flush and sweaty. She stifled a cough as the black smoke impaired her vision. Water was running in the next room, and someone was wailing in agony.
Then a cold crisp breeze hit her face, the distant sound of waves crashing. An older man sat with his back to her, his hands tied behind his back. The blood from the back of his head had dried in a thin little river down his neck.
Dad stared at her with puffy, remorseful eyes.
She tried to cling to those fleeting memories, but they were long gone, leaving a hollow sickness running through her. Her thoughts were a blur again, spinning faster and faster till only one remained.
It was me. All of it was me.
For a long moment, everything was miles away. Too far away to see, hear, or even care about. There was just her, and the uncertain knowledge of what she’d done.
Someone was crying in the distance, the noise growing till it was right beside her. “No, no… not my baby girl, not my baby girl.” — Mom.
Jill nodded at Dad, then turned to Brianna. “Remind me what you said again… ‘You’ll fucking regret this, Keara?’”
“She didn’t know what she was doing,” said Dad. “It’s not her fault.”
“No, it’s your fault, Arthur! Everything is your fault — all of it. I made a promise to my sister that I would take care of her daughter, and now…” Jill clutched her chest, her breathing thin and labored. She pulled an inhaler from her coat pocket, shaking it, and took two puffs as her tears welled.
“I couldn’t take it anymore,” said Dad, finally looking at Brianna. “Seeing you struggle every day — it killed me.”
“You put our daughter’s life at risk.” Mom’s voice was fractured, teeth gritted. “After what happened to all those other people?”
“We had some positive results too.”
“We had ONE positive result!” Jill screamed. “That was enough to satisfy you that the procedure was safe enough to be carried out on your own daughter.”
Mom shook her head. “Just one, Arthur?”
“Just one, Hayley.” Jill said. “And I wouldn’t exactly call his treatment a success. Would you like to meet him?”
Dad’s face dropped.
Jill gestured to the gangly man, who walked to the top of the room, pulling open a closed curtain.
A large man sat in a wheelchair. The gangly man wheeled him closer, the wheelchair creaking and straining till they came to a stop beside Jill.
Large was an understatement — he was a giant. The hospital gown he wore pulled tight across his enormous chest. Steel cuffs strained to hold his hulking arms in place, a little red light blinking on each side. His tree-trunk legs appeared squashed together in the seat.
“Brianna, Hayley,” said Jill. “I’d like you to meet John. John is an army veteran, and one of our early success stories on this program. When he came to us, he was missing a leg, but in just three short months, we were able to fully regrow it. It’s just a shame that he’d lost his mind well before that. Arthur wanted to dispose of him, like the others, but I decided to keep him around. I’m awfully glad I did now.”
“Jill, please,” Dad pleaded. “Whatever you’re doing here, just stop. We can work this out.”
Jill ignored him. “Now, as you can see, he’s been sedated, but that was some time ago. He should be ready to wake up any moment now. I should warn you, he doesn’t do well with new faces.”
She gave John a playful slap on the cheek. “Wake up, John. Our visitors are here.”
John grunted, lifting his head for a moment, but his eyes remained closed.
“Jill, please. Let’s talk about this.”
“Oh, now you want to talk, Arthur? Well, too late. You had your chance to talk to me, plenty of chances in fact.” Jill slapped John again, this time on the top of his balding head. His neutral face creased into a deep scowl.
“When he wakes up, I’m going to let him out of his chair.” She produced a little remote control from her pocket. “And he’s going to tear you and your family to shreds.”
We’re all going to die here.
Terror built in Brianna as John’s face contorted into a grimace.
Mom cried beside her, horror written on her face. “I love you, Brianna.”
“Aww, isn’t that sweet?” Jill gave John’s cheek a hard pinch, snapping her fingers in his face. “Any last words from you, Arthur? No final apology? At least tell your family that you love—”
A monstrous groan filled the room.
The steel cuffs groaned as they snapped, and John rose to his full height — nearly hitting the ceiling.
With a big swinging arm, he caught the gangly man square in the chest, knocking him halfway up the room, crashing into a medicine trolley, pills scattering everywhere.
Then he turned his attention to Jill.
Jill’s smugness vanished in an instant. She took a quick step back, but that’s as far as she got. A shovel-like hand wrapped around her throat, silencing her squeals. She clawed at his wrists, gasping, choking. Then, with a grinding snap, she went limp in his grip. The big man let go, and her body dropped to the floor.
But now he was staring at them.
Brianna held her breath as he ran his bulging eyes across the three of them… before stopping at her.
Mom and Dad screamed as he lurched towards her, leaning in close till she could smell his rotten breath. Every part of her body tensed, and all she could do was close her eyes…
Something hit the ground with a sharp thud.
When she finally found some courage, she opened her eyes.
John lay face down at her feet with something sticking out of his neck — it looked like a pen. It must be what Dad had mentioned earlier, the thing he’d had to use on her.
She turned, stunned to see the gangly man untying Dad. Before she knew it, he’d untied her and Mom too.
Dad stood and rubbed his wrists. His posture was suddenly stiffer — more formal, more professional — and the tears and emotion from moments ago had vanished, like he’d flipped a switch. Brianna’s stomach twisted at the change in him — this man she thought she knew.
“Clean this mess up,” Dad ordered.
“Yes, sir.” The gangly man grabbed John by the ankles and dragged him out the room.
Chapter 40: Brianna
Tara turned and waved from the school gate, grinning from ear to ear. “Brianna,” she shouted over the crowd barging past her. “See you tomorrow!”
“Bye, Tara.” Brianna couldn’t help but smile at her very sweet new friend. “I’ll text you later, okay?”
“Okay then,” she said, nodding with the excitement of a kindergartener on their birthday. How cute.
The damn crutch had doubled the time it took to get anywhere. Inching forward with slow, pathetic baby-steps — infuriating. All she wanted to do was drop it and power-walk, jog, sprint home.
But it was all part of the ruse. As much as she’d love to (and there’s no doubt that she could), there’d be more than a few raised eyebrows if she went from being wheelchair-bound for a year, to walking unaided, to winning races again in a few short weeks. No, her recovery must be slow. Painfully slow. As slow as she could bear. It was the only way to avoid suspicion.
Brad seemed to enjoy playing the hero. He walked at her pace, carrying her bag in one hand, with the other on her lower back, guiding her. Yesterday, she’d even faked a stumble just so he could “save” her. He’d eaten it right up.
“I need a minute,” she said, leaning against a wall and forcing out a few breathless pants.
“It’s alright, take your time.” Brad handed her the water bottle from her bag and winked “So long as I don’t have to carry you the rest of the way.”
“Exactly what are you trying to say?”
“Oh nothing, nothing!”
That grin of his. He hadn’t lost any sass in the last year, that was for sure. “Let’s go, big guy.”
As she shuffled forward, Brad took her free hand, giving it a little squeeze. Even that simple act was enough to remind her how great it is to have him back in her life. It was the best of both worlds — the giddy excitement of a new relationship, with the comfortable familiarity of an old one.
And being with him helped her think less about… everything. Without him, she’d probably be stuck in her room, dwelling on it all to the point of insanity, replaying it all over and—
A car screeched to a halt, inches from them. A police car.
The driver’s window rolled down, and Lieutenant Frank O’Connell leaned out.
Her grip on Brad’s had tightened. Even after all this time, the sight of this man still made her blood simmer. What does he want now?
“Afternoon, kids,” he said, taking off his sunglasses. His friendly demeanor couldn’t hide the disdain in his eyes. “You ought to be more careful crossing the street. Lots of careless drivers… anything could happen.”
With that, the window went back up.
Brad shook his head as the car roared down the street. “What the hell was that about? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she lied.
Brad kept talking, but she never heard another word of it.
That fucking lowlife.
O’Connell was clearly bitter because his little investigation against her had hit a brick wall. Dad had told the police that Noah hadn’t been to work in ages, but had always been something of an oddball. And the police never got a shred of useful information from anyone else at Whitlock — Dad had made sure of that.
But then she thought about O’Connell’s confession to her that night at the station. His words were branded into her mind, keeping her awake, even when she’d managed to block out everything else.
If I could go back, the only thing I’d do differently is make sure you were dead.
When she’d been shouting to anyone who’d listen that his son was the one who’d ran her over, did Frank O’Connell ever think about coming back and finishing the job?
And does he still think about it now?
Brad came to a halt, pulling her back by the hand. They were outside her house already.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Brad looked her up and down. “You kinda zoned out back there.”
“I said I’m fine, Brad.”
“Alright, okay… so, do you still wanna hang out later? We could go see a movie, or even just stay in, and—”
“I’m not in the mood.” She stormed up the path — too fast. Shit. She slowed, hoping Brad hadn’t noticed.
“I’m home,” she yelled, slamming the front door behind her before noticing Dad in the hallway. He was carrying a box filled with the contents of his study — textbooks, notepads, pens, an old trophy he’d won for running in high school, and a picture of the three of them at the beach from years ago, when they’d still been a happy family.
“Hi, Brianna.” Dad placed the box on the floor beside a bulging suitcase.
So it’s finally happening then. She was surprised he’d lasted so long in that crumby single bed in the guest room. “Where will you be staying?”
“A motel for now. Then, hopefully an apartment somewhere between here and work.”
There was a hint of positivity in Dad’s voice, and the stress lines on his forehead had ironed out a little. After all he’d done, this was absolutely for the best — surely even he knew that.
“I’ll be back in a day or two for the rest of my stuff,” he said, glancing hopefully over at Mom leaning in the doorway with her arms folded. “Maybe I could bring over some Chinese food?”
Mom did not look impressed. She simply closed her eyes and gave an exhausted sigh, seemingly astounded at his suggestion. When her eyes reopened, the glaring hatred in them was tough to look at.
Then Mom turned to Brianna, forcing a smile. “How was school, sweetheart?”
It was obvious that she was ignoring Dad till he left. As much as Brianna didn’t like this, she joined in. “It was good.”
“Did Brad walk you home?”
“Of course he did.” Brianna couldn’t help but smirk at the mention of Brad. Mom was clearly fishing for information, as always. “Why?”
“Just asking. I hope you’re still taking things slowly.”
“We are. It’s been nice though, Mom. Just being with him again, it’s… great.”
“I’m happy for you, sweetheart. Now, what do you want for dinner tonight? I have a craving for Chinese food — how does that sound?”
Chapter 41: Brianna
Mom burst out laughing, the wine in her glass sloshing, almost ruining the couch. “Oh my god, I forgot about this part!”
Brianna looked at her and smiled. Her laughter had always been so loud and hearty and happy. They’d both seen every episode of this sitcom a hundred times before, but watching it together, snuggled under the same blanket and bursting with Chinese food, somehow made it as funny as the first time. Dad had never found it funny.
“You want the rest of my noodles?” Mom held out a half-full carton.
“God, no,” said Brianna, the aroma making her stomach churn. “I’m so full I could fall asleep.”
“Same here.”
Mom managed to find a space on the coffee table for the noodle carton— they’d ordered like there were still three of them living there, knowing full well it would be too much — and rested her shoulder on me. “This is nice, isn’t it?”
Before Brianna could reply, something caught her eye.
Noah.
He threw himself onto the armchair beside them, and gave her a little wave.
Brianna scowled back at him. She was still on those stupid pills, though Dad had promised to find a better solution soon. In the meantime, she had to attend therapy once a week — some cognitive behavioral bullshit, but it seemed to have helped her see less and less of Noah. He’d never control her like he’d used to — she couldn’t allow that to happen again — but he still had a nasty habit of showing up unannounced.
Ignore him, she told herself.
“Looks like you’re having a cozy little evening,” he said. “A little mother-daughter bonding. How lovely.”
Brianna turned up the volume on the TV till it blared.
“Yup, things sure are looking up.” Noah leaned back on the armchair, resting his feet on the coffee table. “School’s almost over, you and Brad are going strong again. He seems like a nice guy — I’m glad I decided not to kill him.”
“Fuck. Off,” Brianna mouthed.
Noah raised his hands. “Oops — sorry. I’ll let you get back to your show. Pretend I’m not here.”
All she had to do was focus on the TV. As long as she didn’t give him any attention, he’d eventually get bored and leave. Hopefully forever.
“So… Daddy finally moved out then?”
Her jaw clenched as Mom chuckled again at the TV show.
“Probably for the best, if you ask me. Don’t get me wrong, plenty of married couples work through rough patches, but being responsible for the killing of dozens of innocent people, well that’s usually a deal-breaker.”
Don’t listen to him — he’s not fucking real.
“But, separation aside, I’d say it’s been a pretty great week. Well, apart from that little incident with Lieutenant O’Connell earlier.”
The blood in her veins began to simmer.
“Remind me — what did he say again? ‘You ought to be more careful crossing the street. Lots of careless drivers… anything could happen.’”
Yeah. That’s what he said.
“From anyone else, it’d be friendly advice. But from him — the man who ran you over and left you for dead — it sounded like a threat.”
Brianna gripped the arm of the couch, fingers turning white. He’s not here.
Sure felt like he was, though.
Noah sat forward and leaned in close. “If he was given the chance, he’d kill you in a heartbeat. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I do.”
Mom turned and frowned. “Did you say something, sweetheart?”
“What?” Brianna’s cheeks flushed. “No.”
Noah waited for Mom to become distracted with the TV again. “So what are you going to do about it?”
Brianna said nothing.
“Don’t tell me you’re not gonna do anything?”
Ignoring Noah was like an itch that you weren’t allowed to scratch, especially when he had a point. But no, best to keep everything in the past, where it belonged. If she moved on, maybe O’Connell would too.
With a sigh, Noah stood up. “It’s commendable that you’re trying to move on. Commendable… and fucking stupid.”
She turned, and he was gone. But he’d already ruined her cozy night in with Mom.
Now all she could think about was that bastard O’Connell.
Author’s Note:
Okay, let’s get into it!
Jill got what she deserved. It’s hinted in earlier chapters that she’s been running extra tests on John (aka #Subject 26) that were tantamount to torture. Of course, he’d have probably killed everyone in that room were it not for the quick reactions of the gangly, half-nosed orderly.
For anyone wondering about the orderly — possibly the most mysterious character in the story — here’s what I can tell you. He, like many of the other orderlies, follows orders without question or emotion. Jill told him to tie up and beat Arthur, then kidnap Brianna and Hayley, and that’s exactly what he did. But then Jill got herself killed, and so Arthur became his new superior — which is why he saved them.
A little while after the incident at the lab, and Brianna is doing better. She has a new friend in Tara, and her rekindled relationship with Brad is going well. But the truth of all the horrific things she did (as Noah) still haunts her, so she’s coping the only way she can — by pushing it out of her mind.
Then O’Connell appears, and Noah reminds her that her quest for revenge is still unfinished… but all she wants to do is move on with her life.
Will Noah let her do that?
Of course he fucking won’t.
Next week is the final instalment — can you believe it!?!?
Cold-Blŭdded
Justice Eldridge coughed into a stained handkerchief, dabbing his wrinkled mouth before mumbling his instruction. “Lord Prosecutor, your next witness.”
Brianna’s taste in men is questionable at best. Brad is forgettable; Noah, feral and half-imagined, still outshines him. She should let him back out to play. O’Connell deserves a visit.
Is it terrible that I’m hoping O’Connell gets exactly what is coming to him?? Excited for the final chapters! This has been a wild ride 😀