his arms are different, not at all like the touch her brother carries. in nathaniel she feels the small waves of relief and calmness, rolling onto the shore and grazing her toes. he is a life raft that works to counteract the rocks in her pockets that would anchor her to a black ocean floor. leaving her alone with nothing but the voices of her mind. a voice for every person on a long list that failed to free her, there are two that contrast the mass âââ but it is herâs rings out the loudest. all they do is remind of a time where she was kept in a cage, under the eyes of prying cameras and paralyzing fear. thatâs what hope feels when her brother looks at her. with eyes the color of a sheet of ice over a clear watered lake in a cold winter. eyes just like their father.
nathaniel couldnât be anymore different from that. he came to her as if at the hands of some oracle. after years of being subjected to countless tests that left her body nearly entirely numb, he appeared almost out of thin air the day sinister dumped him into the cage next to her. his presence breaking through the silence like a stone skipping over a frozen lake. hope could only stare at him with eyes wider than a full moon. the first human sheâd seen to date other than that, that monster ? no, she struggled to find a word that seemed right but forgot it the second the body in the cell next to hers made a small but obviously pained noise. she can still remember the way it made her body go rigid, heart caught in her throat. how badly she wanted to ask if he was okay, but that could be exactly what sinister would have wanted. hope had been alone for so long, she was attention starved and who was to say this man wasnât just another one of sinisterâs monsters ? yet with each time nathaniel returned badly beaten, arms, neck and face covered in black and blues, hours passed by with nothing but the sounds of his groaning and occasional whimpers, the chink in the girlâs armor grew larger. three words, a small phrase that seemed nominal but would eventually lead to hushed whispers and secret promises. âare you okay ? â it is the memories of days like those that play in her mind when he says â iâve had worse â.
she digs her head deeper into his chest, focusing on the scent of him. he always smelled clean, something she thought would nauseate her but it doesnât. her shoulders are still scrunched with unease as she wraps her arms around his torso in what is now a habit. his voice is so soft and almost makes her believe in the words heâs saying, almost makes her hope ( which is more than she could use to say ) in the fact that charlie might be able to accept the fact that sheâs found her own happiness without trying to entice anything. but she could barely recognize the man that stood across from her, not too long ago now. she tries to focus on his hands, gentle on her back, because thatâs what they were made to do. to soothe, to help, to tend. â i wonât take that from him. â she decides, not wanting to fall victim to the same selfish vices her family did. he made her want to be better, and so she would be.â yes. â  she breathes out in response. itâs the same answer she gave him when he asked her a four worded question, her finger slightly more adorned, tears covered her face then too. â iâm happy, weâre happy. we stay, for as long as theyâll have us. and if he tries anything âââ well, letâs just say i hold the record against him in fights won. â a small laugh eases itâs way through the tension in the room. chestnut colored eyes tilt upward to meet his eyes, ones she could spend the rest of her days in. with or without her family she will have happiness, the flame of courage will grow within her with each step towards closure. and she will have that, she deserves that at least. â and you ? anybody curious enough to walk into a doctors office ? i mean, this is a school for children. youâre probably going to have to lure them with lollipops or something. canât promise i wonât steal half of them, though. â
There were only so many times he could take her blood and experiment on it only to fail at getting results. She was not the same as her source material, and he shouldnât be surprised nothing worked by this point. Sinister grew bored of negative results though he should be happy she even existed at all. It still wasnât enough, not for him. Sinister wanted to do more and learn more by picking people apart until he could create the perfect specimen.
When the idea spawned, Sinister took the identity of a man he used to be hundreds of years ago. Nathaniel Essex died the same day his son did, but tonight he would be reborn into a better man all for the sake of entertainment. If all went according to plan, Sinister could get everything heâd ever hoped for.
Now, staring down at six long years of lies, Sinister was actually happy with their progress. Though the smile on his face was genuine, it had nothing to do with the woman he held in his arms now. Maybe he could have cared for her in another life or another time when tragedy was not a factor in their futures.
A soft whisper leaves his lips, âMaybe you will be able to reconnect with himâŚâ Would she believe them when they deny Sinisterâs accusations? The seed he planted telling her they left her on purpose bloomed beautifully before she escaped with âNathaniel Essexâ and he hoped it would stay vibrant. âAnd get some answers when youâre readyâŚâ
Nathaniel plants a kiss on the top of her head and pulls away just enough to see her full smile. If he didnât know any better, he could have fallen in love with it. âNot yet, no one seems to be interested at present. Maybe I need something better than these gummy wormsâŚâ he laughs and steps fully away to finish setting up his syringes and other equipment. âTheyâre in a jar under my desk, in case you wanted to make sure they werenât stale for me.â