Chapter 26
175words
Even more shocking was why: he had publicly claimed to be a magician.
He'd declared that creating the cure had been simple for him—effortless, because of his magical abilities.
His confession sparked fear and fascination in equal measure.
The "savior" was forgotten as people fixated on the terrifying possibility of magical "outsiders" living among them.
Deep within a classified government facility.
I watched with complex emotions as Wilson was strapped to an examination table—just like the one I'd suffered on.
Day after day, researchers cut into him, questioning and experimenting. Blood pooled beneath the table, its metallic scent filling the air. No one cared if he lived or died.
They only kept him alive because a dead test subject was less useful than a living one.
Strangely, through all his agony, a faint smile never left his lips.
I turned away, retreating to my corner.
After countless days, they finally unstrapped him—a broken, bleeding shell of a man—and dumped him on the floor like trash.
