[...] It's clear to me,
he is a real monster,
and not because of his abilities [...]
********
For the first time, he was outside. Truly outside. It was dark, very dark, and the heavy rain made it even harder to see the outlines of trees, branches, and roots.
But he didn't stop running.
Even when branches scratched his face, arms, and legs, leaving burning trails on his skin. Even when he tripped over a root and fell face-first to the ground. He didn't stop running. He couldn't. This was his chance. His only chance.
It was freezing, the thin, soaked hospital gown offering zero warmth or protection against the storm. He thought he knew what to expect when running away on a night like this. But now, with water flooding his mouth, blurring his vision, and turning each step dangerous on the slippery moss, he began to doubt. Had using the storm to cover their tracks really been a good idea?
"W-we actually made it, Seven," the girl beside him said, gasping for air.
He could feel the emotions radiating from her. Fear, hope, dread, happiness, desperation, euphoria, doubt. A whirlwind that shifted every second, each feeling as intense as the last. Being so close to her in that state was problematic. Her emotions mixed with his, clouding his thoughts and blurring his focus.
"Focus, Eight," he said, equally breathless. They weren't safe yet, not even close. It was only a matter of time before the soldiers regrouped and the hunt resumed. Papa would want them back at any cost, especially now that he had shown what his powers were capable of — a string of men and women dead, not by his hand, but by their own. Suicide, driven by a wave of despair and sorrow so overwhelming it made them turn their weapons on themselves.
No one expected this from him. To everyone, he was the small, quiet, weak Seven. He knew it. He saw and felt it. They despised him. "Seven is the weakest." "He can't lift or crush big things." "He can't push the others out of the circle." "He can't find people." "Disposable." "Useless."
They believed his powers were limited to subtle emotional manipulations and weak telekinesis. That's what he wanted them to think. Being underestimated was his weapon. Because, unlike his siblings, he knew the truth. He knew about the cruel plans, the dark thoughts others had about them.
To everyone, he and his siblings were nothing more than experiments. Test subjects that needed to be studied. Some even thought of them as monsters.
And Papa… Papa was the worst. He delighted in how suffering fueled evolution. He savored how his influence shaped them, how his fake kindness and love made them strive for his approval. He loved tearing them apart and watching how the pieces fit back together.
Bad, Papa was a very bad person. So, while his siblings sought to please him, Seven sought freedom. He wanted to see the sun, feel the warmth of a family, eat delicious food, have friends, a warm room full of toys, and above all, he wanted to feel love, the most beautiful feeling he had ever seen anyone have.
That's why he endured everything. The hours of isolation, the physical punishments, the contempt, all the attempts to break him. All so that one day this dream could come true.
"Eight... we need to split up." His lungs burned as he spoke, and he stopped running, leaning against a tree to catch his breath.
"What?! No!" Her response came quickly, filled with indignation and fear. "Why would we split up? Together we have a better chance!"
Seven clenched his teeth, feeling the weight of her emotions. Having used so much power, his tolerance for other people's feelings was weakened. "No, we'll have a better chance apart," he said while subtly using his power to reduce her fear and boost her confidence. "They'll think we'll get lost in the forest or head to the city. That's why we need to go to the road and find a car to get far away from here." He pointed west. "You'll go in that direction, it leads straight to a road. It should be easy for you to hitch a ride with your powers."
Eight's eyes widened, surprise and doubt building inside her. "How do you know—"
"We don't have time! Just trust me like you did before, okay? I know exactly what we need to do to escape."
"I... I..."
Seven increased his influence. "Go, Eight. This is our chance to be free."
Eight looked at him, her face wet, her body trembling. For a moment, it seemed like she would say no, like she would grab his hand and refuse to let go. But then she took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and nodded.
"I will." Her voice was almost a whisper as she turned west. "Seven... are you sure?"
"Go!"
With one last glance, she whispered, "Thank you," and ran, disappearing into the darkness of the forest.
He stood there, staring at the spot where Eight had vanished for a few seconds. Her gratitude, and the pure emotions behind it... it was the first time he had ever felt something so beautiful directed at him.
'This feels good...' Closing his eyes, he took two more deep breaths and started running again. Not in the direction he had told Eight, but toward the city. The most obvious place, and for that very reason, the safest, if he played his cards right.
********
[...] It doesn't matter how hard you try to hold him.
It doesn't matter what prison you try to put him in.
Forcing his mind into submission is impossible [...]
********
After minutes that felt like hours, Seven spotted the first houses. They were small, old, with crooked roofs and peeling walls. They wouldn't do. He needed something specific: a house with money, no children, inhabited by people trapped in monotonous and disillusioned lives. He kept to the edge of the forest and moved deeper into the town.
The houses gradually grew larger and better maintained, with neatly trimmed gardens and bright lights. He expanded his power, sensing the emotions of the residents. Blood trickled from his nose from the strain, but he kept searching for the right one. The one where he would plant his roots.
Then he found it. The house backed conveniently onto the woods, with a pool full of water in the backyard and the inside brightly lit. Inside, a man and a woman sat silently watching TV, their emotions as flat as the program on the screen. It was perfect.
Seven crossed the yard, circling the pool, and stopped in front of the glass door. "Now, everything needs to be perfect..." He wiped the blood from his nose, leaving red streaks on his cheek to appear even more vulnerable, if that were even possible.
He raised his hand and knocked on the glass. The woman turned, her mouth opening in surprise and fear when she saw him, the man reacting the same way. They both stood up and rushed to the door, the woman hesitating for a moment before opening it. "O-oh my God, what happened to you? Y-you're all hurt."
Seven let his body fall forward, and the moment his small, trembling hand touched the woman's arm, he was no longer standing at the doorway. He wasn't even himself anymore.
********
"Mary, what happened?" a sweet, caring voice asks gently.
"I... I broke her, Mommy," she answers tearfully, showing her favorite doll with one of its arms detached from the body. She doesn't understand how it happened; just a second ago, everything was fine, and suddenly the arm simply fell off.
"Oh, sweetheart. Let Mommy see." The woman kneels down, her brown hair falling over her shoulders, and gently takes the doll into her hands. She turns the toy, examining the damage, and tries to reattach the arm. Once. Twice. Three times. Nothing. "Hmm... I think we'll have to buy a new one, honey."
"No!" she exclaims, overtaken by anger and sadness. "No, no, no! I want this one!"
********
Seven hated this. He always had. Using his power to see someone's memories was, above all, troublesome. First, he had no control over what he would see, being limited to a person's most striking memories, like: a happy Christmas with family, a first kiss, the pain of losing someone, a betrayal, a passion, a victory, a defeat.
He experienced memories of all kinds, both good and bad. But that wasn't the real problem. The real problem was that he wasn't just a spectator. When Seven touched someone and saw their memories, he became that person.
The love. The touch. The pain. The joy. The misery. He experienced it all, so vividly that, for a moment, he would forget who he was. And when he returned to his body, the emotions stayed, as if they were his. For days, sometimes weeks, he carried pieces of another person inside him.
The feeling was... horrible.
********
The scene shifts, as if someone had turned a page. Now, Seven is no longer a little girl. He's a teenager, years older, sitting at a candlelit restaurant.
Her heart races, anticipation bubbling in her stomach. Across the table, a man smiles. He's so handsome, so romantic. It's only their third date, but with his large hand holding hers, she feels like he's the one. The man she would spend the rest of her life with.
Then, the memory shifted again. She was now sitting on the bed, in a dark room, holding a stack of letters addressed to her husband. Beautiful words, promises, declarations of love. But they weren't from her.
Each line was a stab to her heart, each word a kick to her stomach. She put her hand over her mouth, muffling a scream of pain and betrayal. How could he do this to her? So many years together, so many battles overcome, an entire life built side by side. Did all of that mean nothing?
She should leave him. It was the right thing to do. But the thought paralyzed her. What would people say? The gossip would spread like wildfire. Her image, carefully built over years, would be tarnished. And worse, she still loved him.
How could she not? They had been together for most of her life, so much so that she couldn't even remember what it was like to live without him by her side. She was a fool, but there was no other way... she would have to swallow the pain and have a serious conversation with James.
The memory shifted again. She was in the bathroom, sitting on the cold floor, sobbing uncontrollably. Desperate cries escaped every few seconds, echoing off the walls. She had gotten her period again, another cruel reminder that she had failed to get pregnant once more.
She had tried so many times, secretly stopping her birth control without James knowing. But nothing worked.
Each cycle was a new defeat, each month another crushed hope. She was getting older, her best years slipping away like sand through her fingers.
Misery wrapped around her like a dense, suffocating fog.
********
Seven came back to himself with the metallic taste of blood in his mouth and realized he was crying in Mary's arms. All of her pain, sadness, and disappointment were overwhelming him.
"Calm down, calm down. It's all right now," Mary said gently, though her emotions screamed fear, uncertainty, and compassion.
He tried to speak, but only small, choked sobs came out.
"Poor thing..." Mary murmured softly, holding him tighter against her chest.
It was warm. Her embrace was warm, soft, and comforting, so different from anything Seven had ever known. He had never been hugged or experienced anything like this. The warmth of her body against the cold that made his bones ache felt so good that, for a moment, he forgot all about his plan and just wanted to stay there forever.
"Come on, Mary," James said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "Bring him inside."
Mary stood up with him in her arms. Seven flinched a little as he was lifted off the ground but didn't resist and allowed himself to be carried into the house, away from the cold. Little by little, the tears stopped, and he began to observe his surroundings. The living room was very different from the sterile setting of the lab. There was a fluffy carpet, a TV, a radio, a large sofa with a wooden coffee table in front of it, and a bookshelf filled with books. He liked what he saw.
"We need a blanket, James," Mary said as she settled him onto the sofa. "Look, you're safe now, okay? But I'll need to ask you a few questions so we can help you. Can you do that?"
He quickly nodded, keeping his eyes on James, who was heading upstairs.
"Good boy. Do you know where your parents are?"
"I don't have parents," he replied, lowering his gaze to the floor.
"Oh…"
Seven felt her compassion growing stronger.
Mary opened her mouth to say something, but James returned at that moment. She quickly took the blanket and wrapped him in the soft, warm fabric. "Better now?"
He nodded again, snuggling beneath the soft material.
Mary exchanged a quick glance with her husband before continuing. "Did you run away from a hospital?"
"From a bad place," he answered, instantly sensing the strong wave of concern coming from both of them.
"So... you ran away from a bad place?" she repeated.
"Yes."
Another glance was exchanged between Mary and James. This time, it was longer and filled with tension.
"Mary, we need to call someone," James said quietly, but Seven heard everything clearly. He couldn't allow that to happen.
In a second, he tasted the metallic flavor in his mouth again, having pushed the blood into his nose using his telekinesis.
Mary hesitated. A protective instinct began to override her reason as compassion, pity, and empathy flooded her senses. "What's your name?"
He pulled his arm from beneath the blanket, revealing the 007 marked on his skin. "My name is Seven."
Mary covered her mouth in shock. "J-James."
"My... god..." James murmured, looking over Mary's shoulder. "We really need to call someone."
"And who exactly are we going to call?!" she asked, tears welling in her eyes.
"I-I don't know! But look at him! Hurt, skinny, shaved head, and that tattoo... maybe the military?"
"N-no. Please," Seven looked at them with innocent, frightened eyes. "If you call, the bad men will find me. They always do."
They stared at each other again. And Seven knew he was making progress. Still far from fully convincing them to keep him, but closer.
"I don't know..." James said, uncertainty clear in his voice.
Mary shot him a sharp look. "He's scared, James. We need to help him." She spoke firmly, almost defiantly, then turned her eyes back to Seven. "No one is going to hurt you here, okay? I promise."
Seven nodded, feeling the sincerity in Mary's promise.
****
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.