CHAPTER 8: THE ORIGINAL
“I’m the original.”
The little boy's voice was calm.
Too calm.
He stood beneath the emergency lights with his hands at his sides.
Same dark hair.
Same eyes.
Same height.
Same face as my son.
My mind refused to process what I was seeing.
I looked at my son.
Then at the boy.
Then back at my son.
“No.”
The word escaped my lips.
My son stepped backward.
“That isn't me.”
The other boy smiled.
“Yes, it is.”
My daughter grabbed my arm.
“Mommy, don't let him touch you.”
I pulled both children behind me.
Richard Cross watched with amusement.
“Now you understand.”
I glared at him.
“Understand what?”
He spread his hands.
“Your father wasn't trying to hide one child.”
He pointed toward the boys.
“He was hiding which one was real.”
My stomach turned.
“You're lying.”
Richard laughed.
“That's what your father said too.”
Daniel suddenly stepped forward.
“Richard, stop.”
Richard looked at him.
“You still think you can save them?”
Daniel's voice shook.
“You promised me.”
Richard smiled.
“I promised you many things.”
“You said the children would be safe.”
“And they are.”
Daniel looked toward the armed men.
“Safe?”
Richard shrugged.
“Compared with what could have happened.”
I stared at Daniel.
“What promise?”
He looked at me.
“I made a deal.”
My heart sank.
“What did you trade?”
“My silence.”
“For what?”
“Your life.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You sold our children.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You signed away our daughter.”
“I didn't know they would keep her.”
“You knew enough.”
Daniel lowered his head.
Richard stepped forward.
“Enough family drama.”
He looked at my son.
“Come here.”
My son shook his head.
“No.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
“Come here.”
“No.”
My daughter grabbed his hand.
“Don't listen.”
Richard looked at her.
“You've become brave.”
She stared back.
“You're scared of Mommy.”
For the first time, Richard looked irritated.
“Your mother won't save you.”
I stepped forward.
“You're right.”
Richard raised an eyebrow.
I smiled.
“She won't.”
He looked confused.
I continued.
“I will.”
Marcus glanced at me.
He understood immediately.
“Claire…”
I whispered:
“How many men?”
“Twelve.”
“We have six officers.”
“Eight.”
I looked at the hallway.
“Then we need to make them think we have twenty.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“That I can do.”
He pulled a small device from his jacket.
Richard noticed.
“What is that?”
Marcus pressed a button.
Every emergency speaker in the facility activated.
Then his voice echoed through the entire complex.
“All units, breach now.”
Richard's men looked around.
Marcus continued.
“Target located.”
Then another voice echoed from another corridor.
“Team Alpha entering.”
Then another.
“Team Bravo secured.”
Richard's expression changed.
He looked toward his men.
“What did you do?”
Marcus smiled.
“Made you nervous.”
The first gunshot exploded.
Everyone dropped.
Marcus fired toward the ceiling.
The armed men panicked.
Police rushed forward.
The hallway erupted into chaos.
I grabbed both children.
“Run!”
We sprinted down the corridor.
Daniel followed.
My daughter knew the way.
“Left!”
We turned.
“Right!”
Another corridor.
“Down!”
We reached a stairwell.
My son looked at her.
“How do you know this?”
She shook her head.
“I've lived here.”
My heart broke.
“How long?”
“Ten years.”
We descended.
The alarm continued screaming.
Then my daughter stopped.
“No.”
“What?”
“This isn't the exit.”
“Where are we?”
She pointed toward a door.
“The laboratory.”
Daniel suddenly froze.
“We can't go there.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
He swallowed.
“Because that's where they made the copies.”
I stared at him.
“Copies?”
He nodded.
“Your father discovered they were experimenting with genetic duplication.”
My son looked at the other boy's direction.
“So he's a copy?”
Daniel hesitated.
“I don't know.”
My daughter answered.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He told me.”
I looked at her.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What did he say?”
She whispered:
“He said he was the first one.”
My stomach twisted.
We entered the laboratory.
Rows of empty glass chambers stood along the walls.
Some were large enough for adults.
Others were small enough for children.
My son stared.
“Mom…”
I pulled him closer.
“Don't look.”
But it was too late.
He had already seen the names written on the glass.
SUBJECT A.
SUBJECT B.
SUBJECT C.
There were seven.
Then an eighth.
The eighth chamber was different.
It was larger.
And its label had been scratched away.
Marcus entered behind us.
“Claire.”
I turned.
“Where's Daniel?”
He wasn't there.
I looked toward the door.
“Daniel?”
Nothing.
My daughter's face went pale.
“He went back.”
“Why?”
“To stop Richard.”
I immediately turned around.
Marcus grabbed my arm.
“No.”
“My husband is in there.”
“Your husband made his choice.”
I stared at him.
Then I heard a sound.
A scream.
Daniel.
I ran.
We reached the corridor.
Richard was standing there.
Daniel was on his knees.
Blood ran down his face.
Richard held a gun against his head.
“Claire.”
I stopped.
“Let him go.”
Richard smiled.
“Give me the children.”
“No.”
“Then he dies.”
Daniel looked at me.
“Don't.”
Richard pressed the gun harder.
“Your husband has always been a coward.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
Then whispered:
“Claire…”
“What?”
“Don't trust the boy.”
I looked at my son.
Richard smiled.
“Too late.”
My son stepped forward.
“I'll go.”
“No!”
He looked at me.
“Mom, if I go, he'll stop hurting Daddy.”
I grabbed him.
“You're not going anywhere.”
Richard raised the gun.
Daniel shouted:
“RUN!”
A shot exploded.
I screamed.
But Daniel wasn't hit.
Richard's gun had been knocked from his hand.
The boy stood behind him.
The “original.”
He had struck Richard with a metal pipe.
Richard fell.
Everyone froze.
The boy looked at me.
“Now.”
I stared at him.
“Now what?”
He pointed toward the laboratory.
“Open the vault.”
My daughter whispered:
“He's lying.”
The boy looked at her.
“She knows.”
My daughter stepped backward.
“He's not my brother.”
My son stared at the boy.
“Then who are you?”
The boy smiled.
“I already told you.”
He pointed at himself.
“I'm the original.”
Then he pointed at my son.
“He's the copy.”
My son stopped breathing.
I looked at Daniel.
His face told me everything.
“Daniel?”
He didn't answer.
I walked toward him.
“Is it true?”
He looked at my son.
Then at me.
“I don't know which one was born first.”
My heart shattered.
“What?”
“The hospital records were changed.”
“By whom?”
“Richard.”
“Why?”
“Because one child carried the genetic marker.”
“And the other?”
Daniel swallowed.
“The other carried the memories.”
I looked at the two boys.
The answer suddenly seemed impossible.
But my daughter was staring at my son.
Not the other boy.
My son.
She whispered:
“That's why.”
“Why what?”
“She remembers everything.”
I looked at her.
“What does she remember?”
She pointed at the boy.
“He's the one who hurt us.”
The boy's smile disappeared.
Richard suddenly laughed from the floor.
Everyone turned.
He wiped blood from his mouth.
“You still don't understand.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
He looked at my son.
“Neither of them is the original.”
Silence.
My daughter stepped backward.
Richard continued.
“Your father created a third child.”
My heart stopped.
“A third?”
Richard smiled.
“Your son.”
My head spun.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
He looked at Daniel.
“Tell her.”
Daniel stared at the floor.
“Tell me what?”
Daniel finally looked at me.
“The baby you held in that photograph…”
He stopped.
I waited.
“That wasn't your son.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Then who was it?”
Daniel's voice broke.
“Your daughter.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“The hospital switched them.”
My mind went blank.
“You're saying…”
Daniel nodded.
“The child you raised as your son…”
He looked at my son.
“…was born your daughter.”
I stared at my child.
My son.
The child I had held for ten years.
Then I looked at my daughter.
The child I had just found.
And suddenly I noticed something.
The hospital bracelet in the old photograph.
The name.
I had never looked closely enough.
It wasn't my son's name.
It was my daughter's.
My hands began trembling.
Marcus picked up the photograph.
His face went pale.
“Claire…”
“What?”
He turned the photograph toward me.
The bracelet clearly read:
BABY B: FEMALE.
My world collapsed.
But then the laboratory lights suddenly turned on.
Every screen displayed the same message.
PROJECT MIRROR: FINAL PHASE.
Then another:
SUBJECTS LOCATED.
And finally:
BEGIN TRANSFER.
A mechanical voice announced:
“Three minutes until facility purge.”
My daughter screamed.
“What does that mean?”
Daniel looked at the ceiling.
“It means…”
He swallowed.
“…they're going to destroy the entire facility.”
Marcus grabbed my arm.
“We have three minutes.”
I looked at my children.
Two boys who might not be what they seemed.
One girl who had spent ten years trapped underground.
And somewhere inside this facility was the truth about who they really were.
Then the doors locked.
May you like
The lights turned red.
And every glass chamber around us began filling with gas.
