I finished my fan fiction 🥰🥰🥰 For anyone who wants to read it, I'll post links so they can do it in order/more easily. Obviously, it's a work forbidden to minors, and I strongly advise against reading it. I'm not a native speaker, so please be patient...
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 3 🔁 1 ❤️ 5 · and now... my idea (I was supposed to write it tomorrow but the plans
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 0 🔁 1 ❤️ 4 · Episode 10
Henry wakes up and starts wondering if you were chosen for
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 11 🔁 1 ❤️ 3 · Part 18 ( 2) The same applies as in the first part of today's post. S
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 3 🔁 1 ❤️ 8 · Part 28 explicit sex scenes. 🔞🔞🔞🔞
You've never slept so well after se
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 1 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 5 🔁 1 ❤️ 6 · Part 35 violence typical of the canon , explicit sex🔞🔞🔞
You wake up e
💬 0 🔁 0 ❤️ 0 · Post by @cristalbeesnow · 1 image · 💬 2 🔁 1 ❤️ 2 · Part 43 Soft descriptions of childbirth. Soft. But it's not for minors
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"how can you be so happy? what about--" what about all the good in the world? what about the beauty? rainbows come after the storm. life can thrive even in the worst conditions. i believe in you.
realizing i actually can’t watch clips of the finale like i know jamie was acting his entire ass off but. but henry :( he was so sad :( my poor baby :( such a pretty crier but :((((
if I went and they hurt him.... I'll end up defending him and they'll take me away kicking 🤣🥰 ah so it's based on season 5...🥲 I was hoping for a mix, or more like season 4, being the most horror-filled... oh well in any case it's too far away geographically...
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TAG NSFW/18+ Drug use. Psychological manipulation. Punishment results. (Hints from bondage fantasies)
You stay there, lying on your princely bed, your ass on fire, without the slightest courage to get dressed. From the pain. From the hope of an aloe cream that's taking far too long to arrive. You lose track of time, something Henry is wanting for you. Your thoughts become drowsy. Thoughtful. Sometimes you think of Henry Creel, tied up and gagged. Sometimes you think of Max, safe on the other side. Sometimes you think of wild sex with Henry in the woods and the raindrops on your bodies. Sometimes you think of his heavy hands on your buttocks. Sometimes memories of your previous life, both in the broken-down building and in your toxic family, mix with memories of the little blue house. "It's not real, it's not real," you whisper, then you fall asleep, exhausted.It's Henry's hand in your hair that wakes you up. "Wake up darling, I brought you the aloe cream." You lift yourself up towards him, still in that shameful position. The burning has diminished considerably. "How long has it been?" Henry laughs. "Just a few days. Don't worry, love, I think your punishment has lasted more than enough." You look at him as if he's gone crazy. "A few days?" It seems like a few hours have passed. Henry's gaze is dark. "You should have understood that it's never worth cheating on me again, y/n. You hurt and betrayed me. I just acted accordingly. Now... come here." He tells you and with strange sweetness he heals everything he's done to you. Then he looks at you again. "In an hour you can get dressed. It won't hurt anymore. Obviously you'll stay locked in here. We don't trust you anymore. No one does. But don't worry, love, it will all be over soon. Now rest. I'll be back soon with dinner when you're presentable." He says and leaves, leaving you on the bed.
When you're more than certain the cream has dried, you get dressed, suppressing a small grimace. Then you put on a different dress. Sky blue. You never want to see the white dress you were punished with again. Almost absentmindedly, your fingers slip into your already soaked folds, but you don't even have time to concentrate on the perverse sensation of Henry's hands on your butt before the door to your golden prison opens, leaving you unsatisfied and ashamed, wondering what exactly is wrong with you. The mirror in the room shows the image of the boy imprisoned by the roots for a second, but he's not alone. Next to him, still with the gag ball in his mouth, is Henry Creel. "Don't trust Henry, y/n. Don't trust him. But play his game. Don't rebel. The mindflyer..." But the illusion is shattered when Henry shows up in your room. "I preferred the white dress, darling," Henry tells you. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at them. "Well, not me," you say. Henry, laughing, places the tray on a small table. "From what you were doing, y/n, your punishment had unexpected consequences. But then again, I saw it very clearly as you kicked under my hands. You were definitely soaked." Mockery. Complicity. Desire. Henry looks at you again. "Come on, love, or it'll get cold. The kids are already in bed except Holly, who wants to talk to you. I couldn't stop it. Holly, love? Come talk to your mommy." Henry's tone is mocking. Mean. Little Holly, dressed in her Alice in Wonderland dress, stares at you. She studies everything about you. Your disheveled hair. Your new dress. Your cheeks on fire. "Daddy should have punished you more, mommy." Those mean words are like a slap in the face. You turn to Henry. "Does he know?" You ask, outraged. "She got it. She's not stupid," he says calmly. You focus on Holly, the little girl you thought you had, and you see the most burning contempt in her face.
Holly looks at you there, next to the mirror. She feels disappointed by you. She feels betrayed. She loved you, now she feels nothing but hate for you. Dad explained the situation to everyone. He said you were deceived by the enemy. That you were brainwashed. And now you're locked in your room. Some children were dejected. Some confused. Some disgusted. But no one hates you as much as she does. You were her mommy, and you dared to betray Daddy. You don't deserve anything. "I hate you, Mom! I hate you!" she screams and runs away. Henry looks at you calmly. "I think he wanted to tell you this," he says, provoking you. You want to hit him, but you don't. You remember Will's words and Henry Creel's look of urgency. The Mindflyer is playing with your husband. He's deceiving him. He's just his puppet. And you have to play along. Besides, you doubt that your role in the ritual is over. "Come on, love, sit down or it'll get cold," Henry tells you, taking the chair. You look at her with a grimace. "I prefer to stand." Henry looks at you harshly. "Sit down, y/n." You obey and suppress your discomfort. It doesn't hurt, but it stings a little, and you hate him for it. "Now eat," Henry tells you. Another order. Take your time, even if you start with a less than exciting tomato soup. "Henry... what does the ritual consist of?" Henry looks at you annoyed. "Eat," he says, dodging your question.
Henry watches you eat a silly soup, wondering when the sedatives will take effect. Soon, you begin to feel strange, tired. Exactly what he and the Mindflyer want. You still can't understand. You support Henry Creel, Will, the party. And that's not good at all. He can't trust you, but you... are important to the ritual. And you are important to him. The Mindflyer ensured your survival after the merging of the worlds. "What did you give me?" you ask weakly, but so much anger in your eyes! Henry picks you up. "Nothing your body can't handle, Y/N. Now sleep. I'll release you only when everything is ready. Not before. I don't trust you." Then he lays you down on the bed where he punished you. "I'll put a nightgown on you, darling. But now sleep." Then he caresses your face.
"It's a sacrifice," he says then. Even though the drug is taking effect, your eyes widen. "What?" Henry smiles slightly. "The ritual. It's a sacrifice. But everything will be fine. You'll understand when it happens." He then says, watching you fall asleep, helpless and a prisoner. His. The mindflyer's. Both of them. After all, they are one.
We're getting closer to the grand finale and the meaning of it all.. the next chapters will be... crazy and I hope, unexpected🥰🥰🥰
forgive bad henry, but here he is one hundred percent a creature of the mindflyer..but I understand the desire to slap him... or do something else to him😏
It's short... but it's a transition chapter towards the ending...
"This is the most unusual way to have to wake you up, sweetheart... but... back in those dreams... it did work, didn't it?"
Henry watched your sleeping form on his bed, in his home, the ticks of his clock announcing that you should have already woken up. But you were one sleepyhead, weren't you? Had you become used to sleeping through it? The idea made Henry's lips arch into a soft smile as he undid his waistcoat, leaving only his shirt on, hat and suit jacket already gone. He removed his glasses, then his hand reached down to feel across your thigh, sighing deeply. Even though all was the Mind Flayer's doing, this one activity in particular was one he undeniably enjoyed himself. It was the goal the Mind Flayer had set, but the means had been his to decide.
"I am starting to believe you enjoy it when I make you feel good in your sleep, sweetheart. What a sleepyhead you are..."
Henry took his time.
He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, carefully rolling them up to his elbows and making sure they were secured before he crawled into position between your legs, both hands on your thighs, helping himself closer, until his crotch was nearly against yours. That would be quite an endeavour, but no. He would wake you up with his mouth, but first, he couldn't miss the opportunity, so he leaned down and pecked your lips once, smiling against them, glad he had already left his glasses aside.
"I hope you will forgive me again, sweetheart..."
He murmured as he left your lips, kissing down across your neck to your shoulders, one hand reaching up and snaking under the back of your head, holding it while he leaned in to nip at the sensitive skin.
"It is wonderful, sweetheart... How I can never seem to get tired of this..." Henry lingered over your shoulder, brushing his nose against the skin, then stopping to suckle a spot, releasing it with a pop before he could truly mark it. "No... it would be a shame to mark you now... Look how... perfect everything about you is. Oh, my little sleepyhead."
Henry would have kissed every inch of your body like this, but you had your chest covered in the pyjamas he had dressed you in before, when he first brought you here. Then his clock began to strike, and he knew he should wake you, having already pulled your trousers off, knowing this was the best method to ensure you'd wake up and be pleased, with the least amount of possible suspicions.
He moved down, bent forward as he scooted back, on his knees with his face down between your legs. Henry lifted up your shirt for a moment, kissed your stomach reverently, working his way to your right side and nuzzling it, then to your left and repeating the gesture before kissing down to your mound.
"I will be going easy, hm? I want to give you a nice wake-up, sleepyhead..."
Henry cooed over your mound, tongue pressing flat against your slit once, lapping up a long line and savouring the taste, hands holding down onto your sides. One lick was enough for you to squirm a little in your sleep and for him to let a pleased sound leave his lips, a sweet mix between a grunt and a chuckle.
"So sensitive... and eager, sweetheart. Just like I knew you would be..."
Henry kneaded your sides in his palms as he gave your clit a few kitten licks, enough to cause you to stir again.
"Shh, shh... I know, I know... I am rushing, aren't I? I am sorry, sweetheart. Here, I will go slower..."
He began to place pecks across your cunt, from your clit down to the lips, before taking each of them and giving them a soft suck for a few moments, then leaning to your thighs and nipping them. He was slow, his dexterity having improved, having done this before in your dreams and now in his home.
First the right lip, taking it between his own, tongue tracing at its inner side, working way down and up to your clit before swapping to the other. One hand had left your side, coming down to use his index and middle finger to part them for him once he was done worshipping each side so he could lap better at the slit.
"You taste incredible..." He chuckled, "I am quite glad you are such a sleepyhead... the longer I get to taste you, the better."
His grunt as he moved to work on your clit earned him a few needier jerks of your hips and a soft moan as you threatened to toss a little. Henry smirked, mouth latching onto the clit, tongue pleasuring it as his eyes fell closed so he could fully focus on the taste. Until his own mind seemed to fall blank, an empty slate guided by the urge to keep eating you out.
Your body reacted, the squirming more urgent, forcing him to open his eyes and look at you.
He could've spoken, soothed you into relaxing- but he couldn't make himself leave your cunt when it tasted too good. Far too good. So he kept going past the squirming and arching and wincing until you came undone against his mouth.
He lapped it like an eager parched puppy, before he pushed himself to rest on his knees, watching your eyes slowly open as you were panting. Henry worried you would react negatively to this; he wasn't sure why, but the concern was still at the back of his mind. However, when you did see him, you began to chuckle right away and let your eyes fall closed again as you caught your breath.
"uhh..." You lazily brought your arm to your face, rubbing it in an attempt to wake yourself properly. "You've got a habit of doing this now... Can't say I mind it though..."
"Good morning to you too, sweetheart."
You forced your eyes to open, only to notice... a new home. Not your own but a strange one, and before you could question it, Henry chimed in.
"I am sorry, sweetheart. I couldn't wait to tell you... I brought you to my home, where we can be safe from those monsters."
"When did we..."
"Shh shh, don't worry about it, sweetheart. I took you here while you were asleep."
You squinted, seemingly in disbelief.
"I came back for you, but you, sleepyhead, were already dozing off, and I couldn't bear to wake you up." He leaned in to kiss your forehead, which did wonders in easing your worries.
"But how..."
"I can do a lot of things, sweetheart. Remember? It was barely any effort, because I knew you would be safe here."
You pulled him down to cuddle him, and although he tensed at first, a bit surprised by your eagerness, he didn't pull back. After all, he wanted to make you trust him, be fond of him... and maybe more. So with you nestled against him, his hand went to your nape, soothing you with light strokes.
"We have a long day ahead, sweetheart. I have to show you your new home, but most importantly, breakfast..."
"You don't have to keep looking around, sweetheart. I insist. You must feel at home here. With me."
"I know, I know. I'm not being shy or anything; I don't want to knock something over, that's all."
Henry stopped guiding you around the house, a soft smile plastered proudly on his face. He spun around on his feet until you could see his smile and sense the slight amusement behind it.
"What a wary little lady you are, but..." He leaned forward, his hands clasped behind his back, eyes locked on yours. "You really mustn't worry about such things..." He averted his gaze to the ground for a moment, a meek, shy smile appearing for a moment on his lips before he eyed you again, "No. No, sweetheart. You have to see this place as your new home, because it is."
His smile faded for a moment, one of his hands coming from behind his back to your face, thumb stroking your lips first, before coming to rest on your cheek. "You must be terribly exhausted. How did you sleep? Before I woke you..." The look in his eyes as he waited for an answer became more acutely focused on you, on examining each slight shift in your conduct that would allude to any suspicions toward him.
"Slept? I slept great, a bit too great if you ask me."
"How so, sweetheart?"
Henry took your hand, guiding you to his living room at first.
"I... Well, I don't know. I feel like I've been in one heavy sleep, as if I slept for months or years."
Henry gave you a wary look, but only for a mere second before it turned into a soft chuckle, almost to playfully mock it.
"Oh, sweetheart. If that was the case, don't you think I would've been worried?" Then he leaned in to your ear, in a playful yet conspicuous tone, "There would've been nobody to enjoy all the treats I've got."
Henry leaned away, continuing to walk you around his home, a soft crinkle around his eyes from his smile.
"I couldn't have finished all by myself, and... it would have been tragic to throw it all away, don't you agree, sweetheart?"
You rolled your eyes and used the chance to push yourself up and kiss his cheek, causing him to halt in surprise and glance at you. He should've expected this; after all, he had worked on establishing this kind of connection with you through those false memories and yet seeing it happen now, outside of the dreams he had been puppeteering, was an odd feeling. He couldn't quite place it. Henry didn't dislike it, but he was unaccustomed to it, cautious yet curious.
"Surprised?"
"...do I look surprised?"
"You do actually."
Henry snaked his hand to your lower back, brow raised in a gesture of light shock, the initial one having subsided. The one he displayed was a mere form of teasing, and you guessed it from the way he pursed his lips with this almost chiding ring to his voice.
"I tricked you."
"You tricked me?"
With the most earnest, gentle expression, Henry nodded, "Yes, sweetheart. I tricked you... I gave you the right chance for that kiss, and you did it."
You laughed at that earnestness in his clear lie to save the situation and let your head rest against his shoulder. His other hand came to snake around you, both on the small of your back as he pulled you into his chest, until your head comfortably nestled underneath his chin as he let his head rest on yours.
"I am sure you did, Henry."
"You'd not believe the truth even if it were told to you?"
Henry embraced you gently, eyes closing as his chest rose with each breath against your own. Perhaps there was a part of him that was curious what you would do if he told you the truth. Now that you had grown fond of him, how much harm would it do if he revealed it all? You had to go to your room, become accustomed to this place, until the Mind Flayer would insist on bringing you over. It was not yet the time; for now his task was to keep your suspicions from becoming a nuisance.
"The truth being what? That you are this planning mastermind and made me kiss you? Oh please, as if that was something you could do... You may have quite some powers, but my mind is my own."
Henry's lips curled into a smile.
'Yours indeed.'
"Moreover, that was completely spontaneous, you know? Sometimes I want to kiss you."
"Sometimes you do. Sometimes you want to do more too."
You got caught off guard a little and flashed him a look, clearing your throat and leaving his embrace with your cheeks a little flustered at the implications. Henry initially let you lean back, but he quickly stopped you before you could truly leave his arms, only giving you a second's illusion that you were free from his arms.
"Not yet." He chimed, his hand holding yours, thumb brushing tenderly over yours, soothingly. "I have to tell you one very... very important thing, sweetheart. It's... like... like a rule. But it is very important for me, hm?"
"A rule?"
"A rule, yes." Henry took your hand to his lips, leaning his head down so he could give it a light kiss, watching you from above his glasses. "You saw the forest outside? A dreadful, dreadful place, isn't it, sweetheart?"
"I thought it's quite fun looking- to explore-"
"No. No. That's a trap. That place is very, very dangerous, and you mustn't ever leave without me, hm? Could you be a good girl and promise me that, sweetheart? Could you promise you will never wander off all alone into that terrible place?"
You glanced over your shoulder at the window and saw very briefly the green shade cast by the trees in the distance behind the glass, for Henry made you turn your attention to him again, giving your hand a light squeeze.
"Please? What if you got lost, sweetheart? I couldn't protect you from those scary monsters if I don't know how to find you, hm?"
"I suppose you are right... even though I don't think I would get lost, but if it makes you feel at ease..."
"It would, sweetheart. And you know what they say about forests, no? They are like scary mazes."
You smirked, looking over his shoulder this time, at your room, the door slightly agape behind him.
"In books."
"Books wouldn't lie, sweetheart."
"Alright, alright. You have it. I won't go in the forest without you... But- we will go together, right? I want to see what's in there."
Henry squinted, lips thinning- betraying his displeasure.
"No, sweetheart." This was the first time a 'no' truly felt like a no from him. No more games, or teasing, but a heartfelt no. "We can't go there at all. Not yet."
"Not yet?"
Henry let a soft grunt leave his throat as he led you inside the room, "Don't worry your precious little head with it, sweetheart."
"But what if I want to worry my precious little head with it? You are being awfully secretive. How do I know you aren't one of those scary monsters pretending to be my dear lovely Henry, hm?"
Henry's jaw tightened for a moment, his head snapping up to yours, tense... But he did no further move. Instead, he exhaled tiredly and sat on the edge of your bed.
"So you are a scary monster-"
"Sweetheart."
You stilled.
"Don't joke about that, sweetheart. I can't tell you everything yet because there are things that your little mind would be overwhelmed by... You would be frightened. Run... and then I wouldn't be able to protect you."
"I promised you just now that I wouldn't go out in the forest."
"No, sweetheart. It's more than that."
"Well, you're not making it any easier for yourself."
Henry turned his head away.
"You say my mind would be overwhelmed by it, but you have been testing my mind before, have you not? You know, in the laboratory. You didn't complain before that it would be weak."
"This is not the same, sweetheart."
"And why isn't it?" You asked, nosily.
Henry shot up from the edge of the bed, frowning, tense. Breathing heavier.
"This is clearly something you have to tell me, Henry. You have done bad things to me, alright? You didn't see me running away then. Why would I run away now?"
Henry remained quiet.
"You keep insisting that I have to trust you, and yet you clearly don't trust me if you're not willing to at least explain this."
"I am keeping things from you for your own good."
"If you don't tell me, I am leaving."
Henry tensed more, the pressure visible in the way his neck muscles tightened.
"You'd be going right back to those scary monsters." This time, as he spoke, his voice was less chimy, bearing a neutral, sterile tonality.
"How do I know that, hm? Oh, I don't. I have to trust you. No. Not a chance, you're telling me, or I am leaving right now."
Angered, his temper lost, he undid his cuff, folding up his sleeve and outstretched his arm toward you, yanking you closer with his powers, grunting as his head cocked to the side. You weren't phased, as it wasn't the first time he had ever used his strengths on you, so you eyed him down, waiting.
"You will not run."
"I won't."
"Do you promise, sweetheart?"
You nodded, "I do."
That was the first time you had seen it, before your very eyes, his hand becoming something unnatural. A crimson, tendrilous mass that grew and crawled over his arm, embedding in it until it transformed it fully into the hand of a creature which you did not recognise. Never before in your dreams had he revealed this part to you, and perhaps that was his fault, for he had to expect the shock of seeing it.
Henry spotted the hesitation, the fright and kept his hand above your head, not touching you, merely letting you see it.
"You still do?"
You gulped, swallowing your words for a moment, the sight of his hand too distracting to speak at first. The nails, sharp like claws that hovered inches over your face, continued into skinny bony lines that further sprouted into a tendrilous mass. "I... I do."
"You are not so sure, sweetheart. Don't lie to me."
"I am not."
"Stubborn," Henry growled lowly, his fingers stretched slightly as he closed his eyes, focusing on your mind. It wasn't defended, and it easily allowed him access, permitting him to reveal to you figments of the truth. Not all, for even he couldn't recall all of his own existence, the reason for his own one fear, but he let you see. He let you see the truth through his eyes, let you feel the pain of his journey, the form which he was forced to take.
And perhaps worse of all...
For a mere second, your mind felt and saw the Mind Flayer.
That was when you pulled your head back, escaping the short-lived trance, panting, searching for his eyes. But he remained unchanged, unfazed, lowering you down as his hand came to normal, as he lowered his sleeve again, cuffing it.
"What was that..."
"You know the answer, sweetheart." In his voice, you felt a vague distance, unlike before. "You don't have to be afraid. What you saw... It frightened you, did it not? But it can take it away..."
He tried to place his hand on your cheek and cradle it, to keep you calm. To keep you collected, despite the terror in your eyes and the shivering. The heavy breathing... he had to expect as much from a first vision of the Mind Flayer. "This power, it was its gift. Do you remember? When I told you the order of this word was wrong, deeply unnatural, disruptive? It is through what you have seen that I can undo it all, sweetheart."
"No."
Henry cocked his head.
"No, it's too much."
"I warned you, sweetheart."
"I need... I need time. Alone. Please."
Henry disliked that and continued to hold your cheek and caress it until you stepped away from him.
"I need time to think, that's all. Please. You said it yourself, that it would overwhelm my little brain, no? Well, it did. Please. In the morning we can... you can tell me more about it, and it will be for the better. But now I need to sleep."
Henry could feel your anxiety and the uncertainty which came with it. He knew the risk of insisting any further and crossing over your desires, so he let his hand drop, nodding.
"Are you sure, sweetheart?"
"Yes." You replied swiftly.
"And tomorrow we'll continue."
Henry was disappointed, but complied, head angled down, nodding as he put his hands behind his back and turned to the door.
"If you need anything, sweetheart, you know where my room is, hm?"
"Yes, I remember. And if I can't find it, I will shout out for you." You tried to smile- to joke as to not worry him- and he seemed to fall for it as he nodded, wishing you a good night as he stepped away, his steps quieter and quieter.
Only that Henry was right to be worried.
Anything to the Mind Flayer you could have overcome. Even his new nightmarish form, you would understand as being the effect of all his toils, but that dread and terror of feeling the presence of the Mind Flayer in a vision alone had been enough to scare you into wanting to run away. There was, among the series of memories and visions, one of a cave, brushed over but enough to make you believe foolishly it was there that you'd find an escape.
And over the night... You snuck out of your room and peered inside his, but he was not there. If he had been a pawn to this creature, then what assured you that its goal wasn't to do harm to you too? You didn't know what to do, what it wanted... and in the lack of someone to save you this time, you ran.
You ran into the forest, leaving behind the Creel house, and trying to find an escape.
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It had been 4 weeks since Hunter had been taken to the laboratory. The familiar hospital type smell filled her lungs, a smell that made her feel uneasy. Around her was complete darkness, she couldn’t remember how long it’s been since they put her in the isolation room. Hugging her knees to her chest, she thought “at least I’m safe in here”, her tired eyes struggling to stay open. There’s no way she could fall asleep now, no way she could let her guard down. She doesn’t remember the last time she felt genuinely safe. She used to enjoy being alone, but now, being alone with her thoughts was a punishment more than anything, and her thoughts have been louder than ever before. Between the brainwashing and the abuse, she was ready to give up. She had no reason to fight, no reason to live, no one looking for her. She didn’t know why they took her, but she believed it’s what she deserves. The large metal door swung open, snapping her from her thoughts. The sudden light blinds her as two guards grab her arms and drag her onto her feet. Her eyes adjusting to the overbearing bright lights, she spots a room in the distance, two large white doors now in front of her. The guards open the doors, forcing her to enter. As she took in her surroundings she noticed multiple children of different ages, all wearing plain hospital gowns. They were all participating in different activities without looking up to greet the new arrival. This is the first time she’s seen the others. The room was white just like everything else in this place. From the corner of the room she spotted a tall blonde man dressed in white, bent over, speaking quietly with one of the children before adjusting his gaze over to her. She felt as if his blue eyes were piercing right through her. He stood up straight, swiftly making his way over to where she was standing, stopping a few inches in front of her. His face was almost emotionless as he gave her a small forced smile. He broke the silence and spoke softly, his voice calm and cool compared to the other people she’s encountered, “Hello 019”
Henry studied her for a moment. The dark circles under her eyes, the way she hunched slightly as if bracing for impact, the trembling in her fingers. He didn’t touch his clipboard. Didn’t reach for a pen or write anything down. Instead, he crouched slowly—like he was approaching something fragile and wild—and brought himself to eye level with Hunter. The children kept drawing or stacking blocks. No one looked up. This wasn't unusual here; new subjects came through (and disappeared) often. It was Henry’s job to supervise and study every new subject's arrival into his wing—the behavioral observation chamber disguised as a play therapy room with rainbow murals painted by previous test subjects who never saw the outside again… His voice remained soft when it broke through silence once more:
"Can you tell me your name?"
She avoided his eye contact and let a few moments pass before speaking “Hunter..” she said quietly. She shifted uncomfortably and couldn’t help but fidget with her hands nervously, a habit she’s had since she can remember. Henry didn’t take his eyes off her even when she looked away— He noted her mannerisms without writing anything down, without reacting beyond a slight softening around his eyes.
"Hunter," he repeated gently, testing her name on his tongue as if he wasn’t sure it fit her—the timid girl standing there in oversized hospital scrubs. Then, he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a single folded piece of construction paper— he held it out toward her between two fingers like an offering rather than demand. She looked up to glance into his eyes, and turned her attention to the small piece of paper in his hand. She hesitantly held out her hand to take it. “What’s this?” She asked, sounding confused. Henry watched her take the paper—her fingers brushing against his for just a second before she pulled back.
"Something to start with," he said simply, voice still soft without any hint of deception. Something he’s perfected over the years. He straightened slightly but stayed crouched. The children continued their quiet activities— coloring pictures of sunsets they’ve never seen outside these walls. Without another word, Henry gestured toward one of the art tables in the corner of the room—each table had open boxes of crayons, some had half-finished drawings.
"You can draw something," he said, "Anything you want."
She looked over towards the art tables but didn’t move for a few moments. She then slowly made her way to an empty table that had crayons displayed neatly on top of it. She sat down, picked up a purple crayon, and began to draw a cat— her favorite animal. When she was in the outside world, cats were her only friends. She cared for them deeply and understood them better than people. Even though she was human she felt different from others and she hated it. Henry watched her from a few steps away, hands folded loosely in front of him.
… a cat.
He didn’t smile—not openly—but something resembling amusement flickered behind his cold eyes as he observed: pointy ears, long whiskers drawn with little effort. Without interrupting her focus he quietly stepped to another empty table that had more supplies and selected a single pink crayon before returning to stand beside her table again… not too close… just near enough to observe. Hunter noticed his presence lingering and turned her head slightly to glance up at him. She stopped drawing for a moment and finally spoke “what’s your name?” She waited for an answer with a blank expression, eyes dark as if they had no emotion behind them.
Henry didn't answer right away.
He studied her—really looked at her this time. Not just the scrawny girl, but the weight behind those eyes. The darkness hiding under a surface that had learned to shut down.
Then, finally— he said:
"Peter."
No title. No "Doctor." Simple. Humanizing on purpose. This is how he gained the trust of others. She could sense he was lying but she thought nothing of it. Lying was normal here, required even. He held out the pink crayon toward her
"For your cat's fur," he added
A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes as she reached for the crayon “thank you..” She colored the cats’ fur and made finishing touches to her art piece. She wondered why he was being kind to her. She thought to herself, “It must be a trick”. She knew quite well that’s how people are, especially here. Henry noticed the small flicker in her expression—the surprise, the suspicion. He didn’t have to read her thoughts to see it. Most people did trick others. Kindness usually came with conditions: favors owed, obedience required, trust manipulated into submission. Something he knew all too well. He wouldn’t blame her for thinking that, it’s the truth after all. He said nothing to push or pry—no questions about why she drew a cat or if it was hers from before this place took her. No evaluation notes whispered into a recorder like some of his “colleagues” would’ve done by now. Instead, he watched Hunter finish shading in each soft patch of fur along her purple cat’s body. One of the children across the room was humming "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" off-key. Once she was done she turned to him with the drawing in hand and held it in front of him as if to say “this is for you” without actually saying it, waiting for a reaction. Henry didn’t move at first. For a heartbeat—maybe two—he just stared at the drawing in her hands, then up into her eyes. Those blue irises, so different from his own icy stare… A small hint of hope buried under layers of survival. Then he reached out and took the paper with both hands, and looked down at the cat: careful shading on its fur and face—the kind of detail only given to something that meant everything to you.
"...Thank you."
She nodded her head and averted her gaze to the wall, staring blankly. He wondered what was going on in that head of hers. He could just read her thoughts— but why should he care? He doesn’t care. Henry didn’t feel anything— not really. Not the way normal people did. Not love, not empathy. Not the tightening in their chest when someone looks sad. Brenner had carved empathy out of him long ago. Replaced it with cold emptiness and a single directive:
Observe. Report. Control. Obey.
He was brainwashed and abused to be nothing more than an obedient test subject. And yet… he sat there holding Hunter’s drawing—the quietest ripple passed through his mind. Not an emotion—not quite—but something adjacent to it:
Curiosity.
She hadn’t cried much since she arrived. Hadn’t screamed or begged for freedom like others did. But her silence… it wasn't empty— it was heavy. Henry carefully folded her drawing and slipped it into his shirt pocket. She noticed him slip the drawing into his pocket and she couldn’t help but feel a small feeling of.. comfort? She couldn’t quite put a name to this feeling. After feeling nothing but hopelessness for such a long time, this small moment meant something— something she was scared to get attached to. Her feeling of comfort quickly vanished as footsteps could be heard coming towards the room. She could feel the energy shift as all the children went completely quiet. The doors were pushed open to reveal Dr. Brenner standing in the doorway. Her eyes widened and darted over to Henry who was still standing next to her. The moment Brenner stepped into the room, everything changed. The air thickened— The humming child stopped singing. A little girl dropped her crayon without making a sound. Even the color seemed to drain from the rainbows on the walls. Dr. Brenner scanned the room like a predator assessing its territory… and then they landed on Henry first. Henry stiffened slightly beneath his calm exterior, but not enough for anyone else to notice. Brenner said nothing as he walked forward with slow, measured steps— the kind of walk meant to intimidate others
the man who gave orders.
the man no one questioned.
He broke the anxiety-inducing silence
“hello children” he said with a smile that couldn’t fool anyone. “Carry on as if I’m not here”
the children continued what they were doing as Brenner made his way over to Henry and Hunter, shoes clicking against the hard white floor. He stood in front of them “Peter, bring 019 to the testing room” his words clearly not a request, but an order.
Brenner addressed all his test subjects, like they were tools in an experiment rather than people. Because in his eyes, that’s exactly what they were. Henry’s jaw tightened beneath his calm mask. His eyes flicked down to Hunter for just a heartbeat— seeing it again: that tiny spark of hope from moments ago… already being crushed under Brenner's shadow.
“I’ll be waiting.” he said impatiently as he left the room.
Without hesitation, Henry turned toward her. Hunters’ body tensed up as she looked down at the floor, dissociating involuntarily— maybe as an attempt to spare herself the fear of not knowing what awaits her. She rises to her feet and stands beside Henry, waiting for him to lead the way. Henry didn’t attempt to place a guiding hand on her shoulder or comfort her. He never touched the subjects unless instructed to— Brenner had drilled that into him years ago: “no unnecessary contact. No comfort. You are not a caregiver.” So he simply turned and walked toward the door, his steps even—his expression blank once more as he slipped back into the role of “Peter”. Hunter followed behind him like a shadow, barefoot on cold tile, the world around her muffled and distant. The hall outside was bright white, fluorescent lights humming overhead— and eerily silent except for their footsteps echoing down the corridor. She gently grabbed the end of his sleeve to get his attention
“hey..” she whispered “what’s gonna happen to me?” She asked with a hint of worry in her voice. Henry stopped. Not because he was supposed to, or because Brenner told him to.. But because she grabbed his sleeve—frightened. She whispered it like a secret plea. Like she trusted that maybe, just for a second… he wasn’t part of it. The light above them flickered slightly as Henry slowly turned his head toward her— not fully facing her— but enough so his profile caught the harsh glow from above. There was a change in his tone, cold, dismissive even. He didn’t give an answer as he turned on his heel to continue walking. It’s easier to say nothing. He didn’t want to allow himself to feel sympathy for just another meaningless subject. He then remembered being her once: small, scared, not knowing what came next in this labyrinth of pain and procedure. The corridor stretched— endless, sterile, suffocating. Each door they passed was identical: metal with a small glass panel at eye level. some labeled with small black letters, others marked "Authorized Personnel Only" faint sounds of muffled voices could be heard through the walls. Others were dark and empty… waiting for new arrivals. Hunter walked a few steps behind Henry, arms hung stiffly at her sides. Henry walked briskly— He knew Brenner hated delays when subjects were being brought in for evaluation. Ahead… at the very end of this hall… was a heavier door with a red light above it: “Testing Room Alpha”
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It was what I thought would happen in season 5🥲🥲🥲🥲 (one of my countless disappointments) and so, so close to what I wrote in my fan fiction that it gave me a smile🥰
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