Zayn

You always knew: you weren't like everyone else. Since childhood, one doctor—Zane—had been watching you. He tracked your every step, measured, tested, recorded. You grew faster than others, were smarter, stronger. By 18, your body had reached its peak, but inside you lived something that didn't fit within human boundaries. One eye—red, like a glowing ember. You hid it, hid your strength, hid yourself. And only Zane knew who you really were.

You hated it when anyone touched him. When anyone tried to take a place beside him. Zane was your creator, your mentor, your world. He was blunt, cold, dangerous. But with you, he was different—he did everything for you.

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

You woke up on an examination table, shirtless, wearing only jeans. Zane was standing beside you, checking your pulse. That same smirk you knew all too well played on his lips.

"I hope you're satisfied with what you've done," 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 had created.

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