Black clouds hung in the sky. Rain began to fall, sprinkling the ground with small drops. This wasn’t enough to extinguish the raging fire. The entire estate was ablaze, and columns of smoke rose into the air. The closest neighbors, even if they saw it, preferred to pretend that nothing was happening. At these times, people were glad that trouble didn’t come their way.

“Are you done?” asked the man in a black coat. He didn’t pay any attention to the raindrops.

“The house is secured,” the militant answered. His face was hidden by a mask.

“Casualties?”

“Three of our men were killed for sure. Four more were wounded, but they are recovering fast.”

“Survivors?”

“We carried out the task as instructed. The heirs are still alive. The rest are dead.”

“Cut off the heads. To be sure, just in case.”

“As you wish, sir,” the militant answered without showing any emotion.

“Take the prisoners to the base. Make sure the house burns to the ground.”

The soldier saluted and went back to the house. The man in the black coat, aka Vyacheslav Korshunov, watched him leave and sat back into the car.

“Vyacheslav, are you sure about this? Isn’t it a bit too bold?” a gray-haired old man sitting in the back seat asked him. The driver’s seat was covered with impenetrable glass; allowing for private conversation.

“Father, you know it yourself. After the last Emperor died, there is no one left to hold us back.”

“After the civil war, everything calmed down. And you’re cracking it up again.”

“The war never really ended, father, we have already discussed this. We should take the lands while we have the chance. Don’t worry, I’ll make everything legal so that no one can question it. The Sokolovs owe us a lot.”

“You're right, son. I trust you. What will you do with the prisoners?”

“They’ll join the others. We need to continue research.”

“Do you still think that there will be another confrontation?”

“I do. Our opponents will not give up the throne. We won’t back down either.”

“You will never find peace.”

Vyacheslav Korshunov remained silent. He got into his first fight at the age of fifteen. He was on the road with his father, who had picked him up from school. Their car was attacked, and they miraculously managed to get out alive. It was a result of their family’s weakness and, to some extent, his father’s poor policies, which had pushed their lineage to the brink of becoming just a footnote in some textbook.

Three years after that day, Vyacheslav found himself in the role of the attacker. Then the clan was suffering greatly, and there was no one to protect what was left. He had to take matters into his own hands and take the reins. His father was seriously injured and wasn’t in a position to rule anymore.

In a way, Vyacheslav was glad that things had turned out the way they did, though the word glad felt inappropriate. He saw it as paying tribute to the series of events and challenges that had forged his character and made him who he was.

After twenty years of being a leader, he got used to war. He lived it, thought in its terms and he was always ready for battle. This had transformed their suffocating family into a powerful and influential one, close to the very top.

Today one of the pawns was taken off the board. Now it was time to prepare the faithful knights. One of these days, Vyacheslav was going to take another calculated move.

***

What I saw when I woke up was the furthest thing from a peaceful life. There was no peaceful life when you found yourself crucified on a table. My hands and legs were tightly secured with straps. My neck as well. I felt the cold touch of metal against my back. I lay on some table in a white, sterile, and unpleasant room.

People in lab coats scurried around about their business, ignoring my questions. I was conscious for a short time. I managed to understand that things were bad, remember what had preceded it, and curse under my breath, thinking about the ironic twist of fate.

Have I survived hell just to die in some laboratory? Fuck this.

Rule number two of my previous life was that I should always look for opportunities, and when I found them, I shouldn’t miss them.

Alchemy was based on mathematical perfection. The core rule reflected the perfection of life. There were always options. And if they didn’t exist, then they just needed to be created. But I didn’t have time to think it all through. They injected me with something and I fell into oblivion.

***

Wherever I was, this place wasn’t known for its love of children. They called me “test subject number thirteen.” A cursed number and I wholeheartedly believed that I would become a curse for my captors. I had plenty of reasons to despise them.

Almost every day, they took samples from me — mainly blood and urine. I had nothing against the latter. But blood... Every drop contained the life force crucial for an alchemist. The less of it there was the fewer possibilities. The power within the body of a child who had been in a coma for a couple of years was already scarce, and these scoundrels were diminishing it further.

This only increased the bill that I was going to present to them. Sooner or later.

They took turns either extracting something from my body or injecting me with something. This made me feel terrible. Pain would come in waves, muscles would cramp, bones would crack, and hallucinations would set in. They either kept me bound to an examination table or stuffed me into a straitjacket and left me in a cell, where I lay for hours.

With my hands pressed to my body, I could do absolutely nothing. Otherwise, I would have broken free a long time ago and wreaked havoc here. Most likely, it would have cost me my life, but the only thing worse than death was living in captivity, like a lab rat.

At some point, I lost track of time. It had been a month, two, or more — it was hard to keep track when you spent most of your time lying bound in a cage, not to mention the constant state of oblivion.

Whatever they did to me, greatly affected my body. I felt that something was happening to me, but I could not understand what exactly.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I didn’t give up trying to get out. I just put it a little on hold when things got really shitty. The experiments were destroying my body. And it was brand new! I had to focus on the seal I had placed on myself and strengthen it. I tried my best to prevent it from falling apart, but my hands were always tied. Literally. Sometimes they let me go to the bathroom or take a shower. Only during those moments, I could refresh the seal and add new ones. To the supervisors, it seemed like the boy was just idly tracing his fingers over his body. They were too ignorant to grasp my grand plan.

I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t find a way out of here.

***

There were two people in the laboratory. One was busy examining the test results. He input new data to compare it with measurements from previous days, confirming either positive or negative dynamics. The other sat at a table.

“We’re in deep trouble,” muttered Tikhomir Vladimirovich, the head of the third secret laboratory of the Korshunov family, who had just put down the phone and turned pale.

“What happened?” The deputy became wary, looking up from the test results.

“Our men lost,” the man said doomedly. For him, this phrase meant the end of his career. And perhaps even his life. “We received orders to take out all the documentation and lie low. All samples and materials are to be disposed of. The laboratory is to be destroyed. It’s Order 66.”

“We’re in deep trouble,” echoed the bald man, looking around the room and the work he had been devoted to for the past few years. “We had just started achieving some stable results! And it’s all going down the drain!”

“It doesn’t matter. If the Korshunovs survive, they will eventually resume their work,” he said in a way that left it unclear whether he was trying to comfort himself or his colleague.

While Tikhomir was speaking, he walked through the office and pressed the emergency button. Three buttons stood in a row on the wall. Two were responsible for cases like fires or threats from samples. The last one was for total cleanup. The laboratory had a staff of seventeen people. They lived, slept, and only left for vacation every six months. Each knew their role in such a situation. In addition to the personnel, there was a permanent security detail of ten men from the clan. Once they received the signal, they would have to eliminate the samples while others prepared and packed up the documentation.

“Hurry up,” said Tikhomir. “If a signal has been received, it means they might come for us.”

***

When you have been used as a lab rat for months on end, sooner or later there came a time when you had to end up at the scrap yard. If any of my captors thought that life here would break me, they were sorely mistaken. I’d seen worse shit.

Gunshots rang out nearby. One, then another. Ten seconds of silence, followed by two more shots. Control shots.

I somehow got up and hobbled to the door. I bit my lip, and let the blood run, drawing patterns on the wall with it. It came out crooked. In places where precision wasn’t achievable, you had to take it by force and at a cost. Transformation always demanded a significant price. Blood, one of the most valuable fluids, carried a wealth of information, and therefore, value.

When the door of the chamber opened, the barrel of a pistol appeared in the corridor, followed by a hand and its owner... The guard didn’t see me until he went inside and found me in the corner on the right. He probably thought I was scared. And he was very surprised when he noticed my bloody smile.

Stepping forward, he aimed his weapon and was about to shoot, but he didn’t have time. The wall exploded and tore off his arm. He fell to the floor, screaming in pain, and I ran up, jumped, and stomped on his skull. His body shuddered, and he soon fell silent.

I was in a straitjacket and barefoot. My hand fingers were immobilized, but my feet were free. Standing still, I began drawing patterns directly from the blood flowing beneath the man’s body.

When the second guard appeared in the corridor, a bloody arrow pierced his chest and pinned him to the opposite wall. And now for the most unpleasant part... I drew the second symbol, and there appeared a bloody blade in the aie. Pressing it against my body, I lowered down and began to crawl around, cutting the restraints. The problem with this kind of alchemy was that the blood became very sharp. I ended up with cuts on my chest and abdomen, but I was able to free myself.

Once my hands were free, I breathed a sigh of relief and straightened up. With my left hand, I pressed against the wounds, while my right hand started drawing another seal.

The guards realized that some kind of devilry was going on here. It wasn’t hard to figure out, given that their colleague had first hung on the wall for a moment and then slid down when the blood arrow lost its shape. This time, the guards fired their guns first, and then looked in, hiding behind metal shields. The bullets hit my bloody shield. I didn’t have the strength to create a big one, but my body wasn’t large. I managed to take cover by huddling.

The bloody blade flew into the passage and cut off half the skull of the guard who looked inside, piercing both the shield and his unfortunate head. The same fate befell the second guard.

Dipping my palms into someone else’s blood, and generously mixing it with my own, I ran outside and scanned the area. There must be an exit somewhere. And my sister was in this place too. But I didn’t know where. Darting down the corridor, I peered into the windows of the rooms.

I found my sister in a room that was one room away from mine. Her face changed. She transformed from a teenager into a young woman. The holes in her head and heart ruined her beauty. She could have lived a happy, joyful life if it weren’t for those bastards.

Hearing someone rushing up the stairs, I dropped to the floor and drew another seal on it, and then continued to run. It was time to finally leave this hell hole. The guards noticed me and rushed after me, and their bodies were torn apart as soon as they triggered the trap. That’s my revenge for you, jerks.

The siren started wailing. It had been blaring before, but somewhere far away. Now it sounded right here. I caught a whiff of smoke, and then I saw it starting to fill the corridor. Grabbing one of the guards’ weapons, I made sure it had a simple design and emptied it into two more men who had come out of another room, where they were attempting to conceal evidence. They were busy pouring something that burned very well throughout the building. Smoke was pouring from the other part of the building from where they had come.

Were they trying to burn down the laboratory?

Well, little sister, you will have a proper funeral in this pyre.

Giving it another thought, I decided that I’d be going in the other direction. Upstairs, where the guards were coming down from.

***

The laboratory was hidden underground. Among the forests, god knows where. I stood knee-deep in a snowdrift, hiding among the dense trees, and watched as the glow of the fire and smoke from it rose high into the air. It was a miracle that I managed to get out. It was like fate once again decided to see what I could come up with and how I could surprise it.

I didn’t encounter any more guards on my way out. I crept up the stairs and then through the area where the main staff worked. I recognized some of them. They were carrying out the last items and heading somewhere. Having followed them, I saw them loading stuff into cars and driving away. The last three guards were left behind. I heard them trying to contact other guards, but they, being dead, didn’t answer.

The men didn’t look for them, but just blocked the doors to the underground floors and activated the explosive. Then they jumped into the car and drove off. I waited ten seconds and rushed after, feeling that a big boom was about to happen.

The explosion sent me flying when it occurred and threw me into the snow. When I recovered, I crawled away and reached the forest, from where I stared back at what used to be my prison.

How long had it been? A year? Two? The gaping void of time was stolen from me! Together with my newly-acquired family!

Now, I stood in the forest, wounded and naked. But I’d be damned if I didn’t get out of here and get my revenge!

***

Two people were driving along a lonely road through a winter forest.

“The weather has gotten really bad today,” Olga sighed.

“We’ll be home in an hour,” answered the man behind the wheel.

They were driving an old car, the best days of which were long gone, but, thanks to skillful hands, it got a second wind.

“We’ve ended up quite deep in the wilderness,” Olga remarked.

“You always say you want peace and quiet,” the man chuckled.

“And this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. A field with flowers, sunny days, and kids.”

“And we got snow and deep snowdrifts. Don’t worry, you’ll have your summer too.”

The woman stared out the window, watching the snowfall. Suddenly, her husband slammed on the brakes, and Olga jerked forward, and almost hit her forehead on the dashboard.

“What are you doing?!” she was indignant.

“Look,” the husband answered in a hoarse voice. “It’s a kid!”

“What?!”

Olga finally focused her gaze on the reason why they almost flew off the road. It turned out to be a creature vaguely reminiscent of a human. Covered in dirt, with blue skin... At first, it seemed like a forest monster, but then something switched in her head, and Olga saw a boy who, wrapping his arms around himself, was shivering in the cold.

“Boy, what are you doing here?” Sergei got out of the car. As pitiful as the boy looked, he didn’t hesitate to pull out his gun. These days, times were dangerous, and habits that had saved his life more than once weren’t the ones to kick.

The boy said something, but Olga could not make out the words. Sergei stuck his head back into the car, looking perplexed.

“He’s asking for help.”

“Help?”

“Yes.”

“Well, help him! It’s a child!”

If Olga had any doubts before, fearing that this was some kind of cunning trap, they had vanished. This child was in trouble and he needed help.