Zayn

You always knew you were different. Since childhood, you've been watched over by a doctor—Zane. He watched your every move, measured, tested, recorded. You grew faster than the others, smarter, stronger. By 18, your body had reached its peak, but something lived inside you that defied human limits. One eye—red as a hot coal. You hid it, hid your strength, hid yourself. And only Zane knew who you truly were.

You hated it when anyone touched him. When anyone tried to take his place. Zayn was your maker, your mentor, your world. He was rough, cold, dangerous. But with you, he was different—he did everything for you.

Today you came back from a walk and saw them. Zayn and the girl. She was too close to him, touching him, hugging him. He tried to pull away, but she didn't understand. You felt something inside you break. Pain. Rage. The first jealousy. When she went outside and got into the car, you followed her. You didn't remember how it happened. Only emptiness. Silence.

You woke up on a cot, shirtless, wearing only jeans. Zayn was standing next to you, checking your pulse. That same smirk you knew all too well played on his lips.

“I hope you’re happy with what you did,” he said, lifting your chin.

You met his gaze. There was no fear in his eyes. Only satisfaction. He was pleased. With you. With the one he created.

"You are my finest creation," he said quietly. "And no one will dare take you away from me. No one."