Chapter 8: Subject Zero
The words remained on the screen.
PROJECT PHOENIX: SUBJECT ZERO
For a few seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I was confused.
Three years.
Three years of believing I was a victim.
A target.
A man caught in someone else's war.
But now there was another possibility.
Maybe I wasn't just the person they wanted to control.
Maybe I was the reason everything started.
Detective Hayes replayed the video.
Again.
And again.
But the result was the same.
My mother.
Alive.
Warning me.
Then disappearing.
"Subject Zero..." Rachel whispered.
I looked at her.
"You know what that means."
She didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
"Rachel."
She closed her eyes.
"I hoped you would never find out."
My anger returned.
"Everyone keeps saying that."
"Everyone hoped I wouldn't know."
"My brother."
"My father."
"My mother."
"Now you."
I moved closer.
"How many more secrets are there?"
Rachel looked at me.
"Enough to destroy everything you believe about yourself."
The sentence should have scared me.
But after everything I had learned...
I was already standing in the ruins.
There was nothing left to protect.
"Tell me."
She looked at Detective Hayes.
Then at Vince.
Finally, she looked back at me.
"Project Phoenix didn't start with your accident."
She walked toward the computer.
"It started twenty-five years ago."
She opened the old files.
The screen filled with documents.
Medical reports.
Research notes.
Photographs.
The first image was a child.
A small boy sitting inside a hospital room.
I stared at it.
The child looked familiar.
Too familiar.
My heart began beating faster.
"That's..."
Rachel nodded.
"That's you."
I couldn't speak.
The photograph was from my childhood.
I was maybe five years old.
But I had no memory of that hospital.
"Why was I there?"
Rachel swallowed.
"Because your grandfather discovered something."
"What?"
"Something rare."
She pointed at the report.
"Your nervous system."
I frowned.
"That doesn't make sense."
"It does."
She opened another file.
"When you were born, doctors noticed something unusual."
"Your body repaired certain nerve injuries faster than normal."
I stared at the screen.
"So?"
"So William Carter became obsessed."
Rachel continued.
"He believed the human body had a hidden ability to rebuild itself."
"He thought some people carried a genetic advantage."
"And he wanted to find out if it could be controlled."
I looked at my hands.
"Me."
Rachel nodded.
"You were the first subject."
The room became silent.
"The first?"
"Yes."
I laughed quietly.
A painful laugh.
"So my entire life..."
"Was monitored."
Nobody answered.
Because they knew.
The answer was yes.
My childhood memories suddenly felt different.
The constant medical checkups.
The strange tests.
The questions doctors asked.
The moments my parents said were "normal."
They weren't normal.
They were research.
I wasn't their son.
I was their project.
"Then why the crash?"
Vince finally spoke.
His voice was quiet.
"Because Grandpa thought the experiment failed."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He looked ashamed.
"Your abilities appeared when you were young."
"But as you got older, they disappeared."
Rachel corrected him.
"They didn't disappear."
Everyone looked at her.
She continued.
"They were suppressed."
"By what?"
"Trauma."
The word hit me.
"The human brain protects itself."
"When Ethan experienced fear or danger, his body adapted."
"William wanted to know if extreme trauma could reactivate those abilities."
I stared at her.
"You mean..."
She nodded.
"The crash was not only punishment."
"It was a test."
My stomach turned.
The mountain road.
The impact.
The pain.
The paralysis.
All of it.
A planned experiment.
They didn't just want to hurt me.
They wanted to see what would happen after.
"Why did I recover?"
Rachel looked at me.
"Because the experiment worked."
The room became silent.
My legs.
My movement.
My recovery.
Everything I thought was impossible.
It wasn't a miracle.
It was proof.
Proof that William Carter had spent decades searching for.
I felt anger.
Deep.
Heavy.
"Then why hide it?"
Rachel answered.
"Because William didn't expect you to become independent."
"He expected you to become controllable."
A cold smile appeared on my face.
"But I didn't."
"No."
Rachel looked at me.
"You didn't."
Later that night, I returned to my apartment.
I needed silence.
For years, silence terrified me.
Because silence meant being alone with my thoughts.
Now I needed it.
I opened old boxes.
Childhood photos.
School records.
Family documents.
I searched for anything.
Any clue.
Anything my family had missed.
Then I found a small notebook.
Hidden inside an old photo album.
The handwriting was mine.
But I didn't remember writing it.
The first page contained only one sentence.
"Grandfather says I must forget."
My hands froze.
I turned the page.
The writing continued.
"I don't know why."
"He says forgetting protects me."
"I don't like the doctors."
"They ask me questions."
"I don't want to answer."
The next page was darker.
"I saw Mom crying today."
"She told Grandpa to stop."
"He said I belong to the family."
Not a son.
Not a grandson.
A possession.
I kept reading.
Until I reached the final page.
The handwriting became messy.
Like a frightened child wrote it.
"Grandpa says one day I will become important."
"But I think he is scared of me."
A pause.
Then:
"Because I remember things he wants me to forget."
I closed the notebook.
My hands were shaking.
I had memories.
Hidden memories.
Buried somewhere inside me.
The accident didn't erase everything.
It only covered it.
Like a locked room inside my own mind.
And someone had the key.
The next morning, Detective Hayes arrived.
He looked serious.
"We found something."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He placed a file on the table.
"Your grandfather's location."
My heart stopped.
"Where?"
He opened the file.
An abandoned research facility.
Hidden underground.
Outside the city.
"Novacore?"
"No."
He looked at me.
"Older."
"What does that mean?"
"It means Novacore was not the beginning."
I opened the file.
The facility was called:
Carter Institute for Human Advancement.
My grandfather's personal project.
Created before Novacore existed.
"How long has this place been abandoned?"
Hayes shook his head.
"It hasn't."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Someone has been using it."
"Recently?"
He nodded.
"Yesterday."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Who?"
He placed another photograph on the table.
It showed a person entering the facility.
A person I knew.
Someone I thought was dead.
My mother.
Evelyn Carter.
Alive.
Walking.
Entering the place where everything began.
I stared at the photograph.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown number.
One sentence.
"Ethan, if you are reading this, it means William failed."
Another message appeared.
"Come alone."
Then the final message:
"I will show you why you were never the victim."
I looked at the sender.
There was no name.
Only a number.
But beneath it was something else.
A location.
The old Carter Institute.
The place where I was born as an experiment.
I looked at Detective Hayes.
"We're going."
He immediately shook his head.
"No."
"I need answers."
"It's a trap."
I looked at him.
"Everything has been a trap."
A pause.
"But I need to know who set it."
Rachel stepped forward.
"Ethan."
I looked at her.
"Be careful."
I nodded.
Then I looked at the photograph of my mother.
For years, I wanted revenge.
Now I wanted the truth.
Because revenge was simple.
Truth was dangerous.
And somewhere beneath the ground...
inside an abandoned facility...
was the answer to the question that had followed me my entire life.
Why me?
Why Subject Zero?
And what exactly had my body been designed to become?
I entered the car.
The engine started.
As we drove toward the Carter Institute, I looked out the window.
For the first time in three years...
I wasn't running from my past.
I was driving straight toward it.
And waiting for me underground...
was the man who had created the nightmare.
May you like
My grandfather.
William Carter.
