Lothar was staring at the bizarre ghoulish sculpture framing the wooden door of the psychiatrist’s office. He had tried to delay the inevitable by acting sick, but the guards forced him out of his cell.

They took him through many access points before stopping in front of a long stairway to hell. He didn’t realize how weak his body was until he had to climb down two floors, and the guards weren’t too nice to slow down for him, either.

Once there, he was guided towards a long corridor, with obscene art covering the walls, until he stood in front of the office.

He knocked on the door and entered. The smell of cheap perfume immediately hit him, and he reflexively scrunched his nose.

“Jesus...” he mumbled.

Mom would call this a trip down the bottle of social life's death.

“Hello, Vols.” A sultry voice called for him. He turned and met the gaze of an overly beautiful woman, so beautiful that he thought she was fake.

She wore a red dress with an accented neckline and long sleeves that hid her tan arms. Her blonde hair was neatly tied in a braid, cascading down her slim back. He hesitated before closing the door then walked over to the purple gothic couch. The room’s decoration was as eccentric as the woman’s clothing. It looked nothing like a shrink’s office.

“Are you the psychiatrist?” He wondered.

“Yes, you can call me Jasmine.” Her lips danced easily in a red-tinted smile.

“No offense but you look ready for a gala, not a session with a mentally unstable prisoner.” The words came out before he could think them through.

He realized he was really taking his situation lightly when the woman’s eyes turned hard.

Her previous carefree demeanor evaporated as she responded with an overly condescending tone that would make his old pal Chris jealous.

“Are you implying that I should be prudent with a regular? I might work as a civilian, but I am still an agent.”

Lothar’s eyes almost bugged out. “An Alka agent? You’re a Soulbound?” The woman titled her head, both in pride and confusion.

“Poor thing, Levi said that you’ve lost your memory. Yes, I am, to both questions. Today, we will discuss how you’re coping with this new chapter of your life.”

Lothar couldn’t help but snort.

“Chapter? My entire story had been stolen and I’m now reading from someone else’s book.”

Jasmine’s eyes sparkled.

“I don’t quite get what you meant. Please explain more.”

Lothar waved a hand, “Forget about it. You can tell me why I’m here—I don’t mean here in this office, but in prison.”

She softly sighed under her breath.

“You were charged for first-degree manslaughter and condemned to 20 years in prison.”

Lothar’s jaw slacked, and the woman continued, “It was a car accident while you were under the influence. You have killed a young woman who had a promising future in the medical field.” Lothar didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what to think.

20 years is a lot of fucking time.

On one hand, he was not really the one responsible for the crime, but on the other, he was the only one who could bear the consequences. He cursed Vols, again and again.

Then, he really thought about what happened and realized he might as well have killed the girl; he couldn’t count how many times he drove while drunk.

It was still Vols’ damn crime, not mine.

“You look more angry than guilty. Why is that?” her tone went to soothing, almost sing-song-like. He just could not fathom which dumb shit hired this woman.

“I’m just angry at... myself. What was her name again?”

Jasmine turned in her chair and grabbed the file sitting on her desk. She flipped the pages until she found what she was looking for.

“Tianna white, nursing student at X-D6 university. Very prestigious university, co-owned by X-tech, the biggest company in the world. Truly a loss.”

Lothar’s breath hitched “W-what? what did you say her name was?”

She leaned on the armchair and responded, “Tianna white.”

This must be a joke, right?

“Do you have a picture of her?” Jasmine raised an eyebrow but still complied. He opened the file with shaky hands, observing the picture of a brown-haired Asian woman with a dimpled smile.

The paper crumpled beneath his hand.

How… is that really Tianna? my Tianna? Worm!

She looks like the spitting image of my Tianna. How can they be different?

Lothar thought back to the lonely, cheerful girl he dated back in high school. Friends since childhood turned romantic before a nasty breakup, and then they never spoke again after graduation. The last thing he heard was that she moved to England.

No… I don’t know. She never mentioned nursing, though. I guess you’re right, if there is indeed an infinite number of universes, then there is a possibility of finding a doppelgänger between two parallel earths. What a mental coincidence, though.

“Vols?” Lothar snapped out of his thoughts and looked up. Jasmine was typing on her tablet, glasses suddenly appeared on her face.

“Do Souldbounds need those?” he asked, pointing at her glasses.

He noticed her stiffen as she replied briskly.

“My perception spec is low, as the amount of earned malleable specs with our evolution is always limited and little. You have to make sacrifices instead of being a Jack of all trades. Those usually end up the weakest. My case is a bit.. different. I was born blind, honey.”

Lothar’s eyes widened and said, “Can Soulbounds cure cancer?”

She flashed a toothy smile. One a person would give to a toddler to distract them from whatever’s making them upset.

“Depends on one’s constitution. However, there was never a human who could combat sickness of all kinds permanently based on specs alone. It’s always some specialized classes that help increase immunity to crippling regular-diseases.”

Lothar opened his mouth, hoping to find more about those classes, but she stopped him.

“I understand your hunger for knowledge, but we only have one hour and we need to talk more about what happened to you.”

Lothar sighed, he prepared the lies in his head “I can understand how this looks to you. I am a new inmate, the guards are ruthless and I have to do horrific things that someone from my background isn’t used to at all. I broke and decided to take my life in a rather aggressive attempt. That is about right?”

She didn’t answer, just popped her head on her palm as he continued. He hated how she looked at him. Like an amusing monkey.

“I can assure you I am not suicidal.” he continued

“Your record shows that you have tendencies titling rather towards the extremes.”

She replied as she flipped through the pages like it was a fashion magazine.

“Meaning?”

The woman looked at her watch. She couldn’t look more bored if she tried.

What a horrible psychiatrist, he thought.

“Meaning it is not above or below you to commit suicide. I am here to help you out but I need your cooperation.” she said.

“Prescribe me some painkillers. That surely might help.” He was only half lying.

“Would make my job harder. I hate dealing with junkies. Let’s talk about the incident instead.” she responded

I don’t think she’s supposed to say that.

“I am assuming you mean the Graveyard. That’s what they call it here by the by. Is it even Legal?” He replied

She flicked her slender fingers over the pages “If you’re asking if the prison’s heads know about it then I can confidently say yes.”

“Are those the regulars or the Soulbounds?” Her lips twitched “You’re asking all the wrong questions, honey. There is no difference between you and us. We’re all humans in the end.”

That’s why you almost lost your shit when you thought I was demeaning your power as a Soulbound.

“Would have believed you if I was blind, deaf, or a chump. Why are you even humoring me?”

She smiled “Now you’re asking the right questions. Your file here says that you have High SE levels for a regular. And before you ask, SE is Soulenergy.”

He frowned. Explain it more.

< I told you about the metaphysical lock on Closed-souls. SE forms a barrier around the soul, like a light plasma. It is merely a catalyst and doesn’t affect one’s life. You need to have a certain level of SE to break the lock. Once a baby is born, the SE either overwhelms the lock or not.>

One of his questions was finally answered. Vols wasn’t a normal regular it seemed, and he had a mission when coming here. He didn’t know what.

“Okay? What does that make of this conversation?” He said.

She sighed, her fingers tapping on the armchair. She flicked her hair back, neck now exposed. His eyes widened as he glimpsed the earpiece.

“I can’t have a one-celler kill himself now that the Fanes have finally gotten somewhere in their research,” she said

He was already dashing for the exit, but couldn’t make it on time.

Two guards with unfamiliar uniforms swung the door open. His breath hitched when his eyes made contact with orange ones.

They immediately subdued him before he could put up a fight. It only took one of them to reach him, slam him on the ground with a force that rattled his brain and tie his arms behind his back.

Lothar cursed and struggled amidst dizziness, but stopped when he caught a glance of red heels.

his cheek stung against the cold floor as he tried to look up only to have his head slammed on the ground, again.

He wondered if anyobody even heard his loud cries.

“Vols Chathier, inmate 456, had been restrained.” he heard Jasmine’s voice trail venom as she uttered his name. She squatted and stared blankly at him “It will end soon, honey.” He lost consciousness when her fist connected.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

.....

Droj walked the halls towards the graveyard with preppy steps. He looked to his right. Schlatt was whistling a solemn tune he didn’t recognize. The former artist always found different ways to pass his time, all leading back to his talent in music.

“You got a name for new tune?” He asked, head bobbing up and down. It felt heavier than usual. He needed to visit Levi soon.

“Not yet. It’s only halfway polished, not ready to have a name yet. What are you doing?”

Droj stopped looking around. He fixed his eyes on Ronny who growled in his direction. Droj returned a smile “Looking for new guy.”

Schlatt scowled. Droj found out, years ago, that Schaltt hated most people who weren’t like him. Things hadn’t changed much since then.

“Why are you so interested in him, anyway?’

Droj wondered how Schaltt survived 4 years in this place, before remembering it was probably because of him.

“Why aren’t you interested? He’s a one-celler, not even a week into his sentence. Dickins also really hates his guts, which is suspicious because Dickins hates everybody equally.“

Schlatt shrugged “Could be he’s a psycho. Those always end up first on the tinkers’ Waiting List”

Droj tapped his friend’s shoulder “That’s the thing, shit face. He committed accidental manslaughter. The victim wasn’t even anyone important. So why?”

Schaltt scratched his goatee “How do you even know that? He’s barely even been here for a week...”

Droj flashed a smile that told Schlatt enough. He wouldn’t just reveal his secrets even to him.

“I guess it is weird. He could have high SE. It’s not weird for some regulars born to Soulbound parents.”

Droj smiled, “Bingo. In fact, I am currently trying to dig up more info on him, but it’s a bit above my skill set. You already know about his Soulchanted notebook. If my hunch is right, then someone he knows from outside smuggled it for him—someone who fears only heavens. If I play cards right, I might get new supply of occult goods. Imagine that.”

Schlatt gave him an incredulous look “I reckon there are less painful ways to commit suicide. Droj, the guards only partially tolerate your little business right now. Agents are also coming soon, you said”

Droj waved a hand “I don’t intend to sell what I am buying.”

Schaltt narrowed his eyes then realized the businessman’s true intentions.

He smirked and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “I have decided what to call the tune; Last fight for freedom by Lance Schlatt.”

Droj laughed “So you’re in, I gather.”

Schaltt nodded “I’m tired of shoveling, Droj. Let’s go out with a bang.”

.....

Lothar woke up to the howling coming from his right. His body stiffened when he felt cuffs holding him in place. He looked to his right and was surprised to see a wolf. It was bigger than any wolf he’s ever seen, with red fur and intelligent eyes.

Its snout opened, and his heart stilled, waiting for something to happen.

He felt silly when it just whimpered. He gazed at its body riddled with scars too fresh to be more than a few hours old.

When he inspected his surroundings, Lothar realized he was inside a clinical room. Machines stood against the wall to his right. No tubes connected to his body like he expected and his nose picked up a foul smell. The wolf, it seems, had pissed itself.

He opened his mouth, intending to scream for help, before deciding otherwise. They wouldn’t have left him here alone if he had a chance to escape, whoever they were.

A few theories he had about this place were clicking in place. First, the prison must have been a façade to what seems to be an illegal experimental unit. Jasmine worked for them, meaning the doctor worked for them, meaning everyone in this damned prison worked for them.

He was thankful they let him keep his eyepatch. He did not feel like having a headache at the moment. Not that a potential headache was the biggest of his problems.

He looked over at the wolf and couldn’t help but wince.

“Looks painful. Poor thing.”

Lothar was startled when the door opened. A man in his mid-forties entered, holding a tablet. He had greying hair, hollow cheeks, and black bags under his sharp eyes.

“You’re awake! Good.” He smiled and gently place a hand on Lothar’s shoulder “My name is doctor Stevenson. It is nice to meet you,” He looked down at his tablet and then back at Lothar “Vols.”

The latter was stunned by the man’s jovial attitude.

He decided he needed answers and opted for a direct approach “If I’m going to be your lab rat then I think you could at least tell me why.”

Stevenson actually chuckled

“Not a lab rat. I need to take a few blood and energy samples, and then you’ll be on your way.” He responded casually.

That didn’t explain the way they brought him here.

“Do you kidnap your prisoners this way all the time?” the doctor picked up a needle and walked toward Lothar.

“No, just the few that are deemed useful for our experiments.”

“That's got to be illegal. You’re not agents, are you?”

He eyed the needle anxiously as it approached his body.

The doctor raised a brow at that “And here I though they said you'd lost half your wit after losing your memories. Look, I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. Today we’ll just measure your level of SE. If your level isn’t what we’re looking for, then we will let you go. No harm done.”

After extracting his blood, a small machine appeared in his hands. It was an intricate flat screen decorated with patterns resembling ancient calligraphic symbols.

He wanted to ask more questions but decided to focus on the problem at hand.

“Here goes the blood. Now place your palm on the plateau.”

So that’s what it’s called. Would this tool give you away?

But I will have a class. How is that possible?

Lothar abided with anxiety nagging in the back of his mind. The doctor’s expression didn’t waver, nor did it change during the whole time.

The doctor finally looked up at him, smiled, and said.

“You’re free to go now. We need to wait for the results, which will take a few days. I advise you to keep this little expedition to yourself. Not that there’s anyone here who’ll care to listen to your case.”

Lothar did the only thing he thought was appropriate. He spat on the man’s face and it landed beautifully on his nose.

A vein popped momentarily on Stevenson’s large forehead, but he relaxed immediately once he wiped his nose.

“Guards will come to pick you up soon. Thank you for your cooperation.” His muttered monotonously as he pressed a tainted cloth to Lothar’s mouth. The latter struggled futilely for a few minutes before falling asleep.

.....

Lothar woke up in his cell. He ignored his headache and called for the worm.

Lothar breath stilled. Don't ever call me that, worm.

The thing did not reply to him, so he walked towards the bars, seeing the Viking guy missing.

So that’s where they take him... Stevenson was a nutcase. It took little getting to know the man to realize that.

The picture of the wounded wolf appeared in his mind. Kin or not, what they’re doing is unethical and wrong.

Lothar mulled over the new knowledge he had gotten about his captors when a guard discreetly passed by his cell and threw a note inside. He hesitated to grab it and looked at the back of the guard. He didn’t recognize him.

Opening the letter, he read.

Heard your time is almost over. I can’t fathom how quickly you fucked things up.

Will see you soon.

Lothar flipped the paper and then read it five times over. It was obvious the message came from the person who gave Vols the elusive mission.

Maybe he heard about his encounter with Stevenson, but why was he sure that Lothar’s time was over? And why does he want to talk? Will they kill him for getting caught?

Lothar stifled his rising panic before it can burn away his last few brain cells.

He thought back to the guard that delivered the note. He wasn’t one that did patrols on his block, meaning he came from another block. That wouldn’t really matter if Lothar hadn’t just literally woken up. That means two things: whoever the person sent the note was capable of knowing when Lothar was back in his cell and once he’d woken up to immediately relay a message. They did not work for Stevenson or Jasmine, because why would they have to send in a message like this?

He concluded after deep thought that he was dealing with over one person. Some are guards or higher-positioned officers.

Maybe he was an informant, playing ball with prisoners while solving the crimes of evil scientists by night.

He almost laughed at that. Vols did not seem like a guy who had his shit figured out.

“Dammit! for once, just give me a fucking break” He grabbed at his hair and pulled.

It wasn’t time to idle. He would not be turned into anybody’s plaything.

He reflected on the doctor’s words and no matter how he thought about it; he was fated to become their lab rat.

He needed to get information from the Viking guy about what they were actually doing to him.

After moments of contemplation, Lothar decided to talk to him in private. It would be more likely he would be open to sharing his experiences.

Alas, the man never returned. It was already mid-afternoon, and he was supposed to be escorted back by now.

Lothar never saw him again.

.....