Kyle woke to the sound of chains rattling.
His body felt like it had been torn apart and put back together wrong. Every nerve screamed in protest, his muscles aching from the torture they had just endured. His vision was blurry, his breath shallow.
Where…?
The cold metal of the chair beneath him grounded his senses. He wasn't hanging this time—but that didn't mean it was an improvement.
Restraints dug into his wrists and ankles, locking him in place. A heavy steel collar pressed against his throat, probably suppressing whatever strength he had left.
Kyle's head lolled to the side, his mind still sluggish. That's when he saw her.
Gia.
She was shackled to the wall across from him, her wrists bound above her head, her ankles chained. Her body was slumped forward, her dark hair falling over her face, but he could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest.
She was alive.
For now.
Footsteps echoed against the sterile floors.
"Ah, you're awake. Good."
Kyle knew that voice.
Vance.
The scientist walked in, hands clasped behind his back, his usual eerie calmness surrounding him. A few masked assistants followed, pushing in a steel table covered in medical instruments. Scalpels. Syringes. Something that looked disturbingly like bone saws.
Kyle glared at him, his lips curling into a smirk despite the pain. "Let me guess. Another round of 'how much can we break him before he screams'?"
Vance chuckled. "Not this time. We have… a different entertainment planned."
Kyle didn't like the way he said that.
Vance gestured towards Gia. "You see, she's been quite a distraction, hasn't she?"
Kyle's blood ran cold.
Vance crouched in front of him, tilting his head. "I must admit, I'm curious. Your power—the ability to weaponize your own blood—is a remarkable phenomenon. But what happens when we extract it?"
Kyle's fingers twitched against the restraints.
"Don't worry," Vance continued. "We don't intend to kill you. That would be a waste. No, we're going to remove your ability—slowly, of course."
Kyle's smirk didn't waver, but his eyes burned with rage. "You think I'll just sit here and let you do that?"
"Oh, you don't have a choice."
Vance stepped aside, and an assistant wheeled in another machine—a large, hollow glass cylinder filled with a glowing red liquid. Tubes extended from it, leading to a set of long, jagged needles.
Kyle's body went rigid.
They were actually going to siphon his power.
"And to make it more enjoyable…" Vance turned to Gia, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up.
Her eyes were dazed, but when she saw Kyle, fear and fury flashed through them.
"You're going to watch," Vance told her. "Wouldn't want you to miss out on the fun, after all."
Kyle lunged against the restraints. "Don't you f**king touch her!"
Vance smiled. "There it is. That fire." He gestured to the assistants. "Begin the extraction."
The assistants moved quickly, fastening electrodes to Kyle's chest, inserting needles into his arms. The cold touch of metal against his skin made his stomach churn.
The machine hummed to life.
Kyle's breathing turned sharp as a pulling sensation coursed through his body—like something was trying to rip his very soul out.
It started slow. A tingling in his veins. Then a burning wave of agony erupted through him, radiating from his chest to his fingertips.
His blood was being siphoned out.
The red liquid in the cylinder swirled violently, glowing as it filled with his essence.
Kyle clenched his jaw, his fingers digging into the armrests. The pain was worse than anything they had done before—worse than the shocks, worse than the needles, worse than the beatings.
It felt like they were unraveling him from the inside out.
Across the room, Gia screamed his name.
Her voice cut through the pain, sharp and desperate. She was struggling, thrashing against the chains.
"STOP IT! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!"
Vance merely hummed, watching the extraction with interest. "Not quite. But I imagine it feels that way."
Kyle's vision flickered. His breath came in sharp gasps.
He could feel his power—his very essence—being stolen.
And if they succeeded… he would be nothing but an empty husk.
No.
Not like this.
His fingers twitched. The metal cuffs rattled.
Somewhere deep in his gut, past the agony, past the haze of pain, something stirred.
Something darker.
Something primal.
Vance turned to one of the assistants. "Increase the output. Let's see how much he can take."
The assistant nodded, adjusting the controls—
And then the machine exploded.
The cylinder shattered in an instant, sending shards of glass and a wave of blood-red energy surging through the room. The assistants were thrown back, slamming into the walls.
Vance stumbled, shielding his face.
Kyle's restraints snapped apart.
His blood—what they had stolen—came rushing back to him.
And it was angry.
Kyle lifted his head, his once dull eyes burning with crimson light.
His smirk returned—feral, dangerous.
"Looks like the fun's just getting started."
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