The experiment

The world I knew once was gone. The memories of my family, my home, and the place where I once felt safe have all faded into the fog of a past life. Now, all I had was the knowledge of the experiments, the pain, and the lingering residue of forbidden powers that had been injected into my veins, forced into my body, and stitched into my soul. I was an orphan, one of many stolen from my family, dragged into a nightmarish reality where I was no more than a test subject. It all began when I was just a child, too young to understand what was happening, too naive to question the world outside the protection of my home. The day they came was a blur—masked faces, dark clothing, and a coldness in their eyes that I knew even as a child was not of this world. They took me without hesitation, without remorse, as if I were nothing more than an object. I remember my mother’s scream, my father’s shout of defiance, but then it was all silence, and my world went dark. I woke in a cold, sterile room, the walls white and unforgiving. The air was thin, and the only sound was the soft hum of machines, their purpose unknown to me. I was one of many—other children who shared the same fate. Some had been there longer than I had, their eyes empty of hope, while others were fresh like me, wide-eyed and confused. Over time, we came to realize that we were part of something far darker than we had ever imagined. The people who took us called themselves “The Researchers.” They wore long coats and spoke in hushed tones, treating us as if we were lab animals, constantly observing, prodding, and testing. They had no empathy, no care for our well-being. To them, we were nothing more than test subjects, pawns in their search for forbidden knowledge. They experimented on us with different spells, potions, and powers—things that should have never been attempted, let alone tested on innocent children. Each trial left us broken, reshaping our bodies, our minds, and our very souls. There were moments