Reclaiming the Throne

I insisted on running closer where I heard gunshots. The mansion loomed ahead, its once-pristine facade now menacing under the moonlight. The front doors were slightly ajar, and the faint sound of voices drifted out. As I crept closer, I recognized one of them—Gabriel.

Calvin pulled me behind a column. “You’re walking into a trap,” he whispered, his voice harsh.

“I don’t care,” I shot back. “If he hurts her—”

“He’s insane, Kelsey. Don’t underestimate him.”

I peeked around the corner, my stomach twisting at the sight. There he was, Gabriel Carson, holding Dr. Chelsea at gunpoint. Her usually composed face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Gabriel’s laugh echoed through the hall, sharp and unhinged. He waved the gun lazily, taunting her. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Chelsea? Playing god with people’s lives. Reconstructing faces, erasing identities.” His gaze flicked to the doorway, as if sensing our presence. I ducked back quickly.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Chelsea spat, her voice steady despite the barrel of the gun against her temple.

“Oh, I know plenty,” Gabriel sneered. “You built your empire on lies, on stolen techniques. Should I remind you how you climbed your way to the top, doctor? Or would you prefer I let your little protégé find out herself?”

My breath hitched.

WHAT WAS HE TALKING ABOUT?

“You’re a coward,” Chelsea said coldly. “Hiding behind threats and manipulation. You think I’ll give you what you want? You’re delusional.”

Gabriel tilted his head, a dangerous smile spreading across his face. “Oh, but you will. Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure Kristie here knows exactly what kind of monster you are. And when she does, I’ll kill her too. Slowly.”

He thought I was Kristie. Of course, HE did. That was the whole point of this charade. But his words sent a chill down my spine. He wasn’t just manipulative—he was obsessed!

Chelsea’s eyes flickered for a moment—fear? Regret? It was hard to tell. “You’re bluffing,” she said, though her voice wavered ever so slightly.

Gabriel pressed the gun harder against her temple. “Try me.”

Before I could think, Calvin pulled his gun, aiming from the shadows. I grabbed his arm.

“Are you insane?” I hissed.

“Stay here,” he whispered.

And then, he stepped out.

The sharp crack of a gunshot made me flinch. Calvin’s bullet hit Gabriel square in the chest. He stumbled back, a look of shock on his face as he crumpled to the ground. The gun slipped from his hand, skidding across the marble floor.

Chelsea staggered backward, her hands trembling. I rushed to her, gripping her shoulders.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice shaking.

She nodded, but her gaze was fixed on Gabriel’s lifeless body. “I… I didn’t think he’d…” Her voice trailed off.

I gazed at Gabriel, he’s not moving—HE IS DEAD PROBABLY. But why there is no blood?!

Calvin kept his gun trained on the body as he approached cautiously. “We need to go. Now.”

Dr. Chelsea didn’t argue, and neither did I. We hurried out of the mansion, every creak of the floorboards and rustle of leaves outside setting my nerves on edge.

Once we were back in the woods, Calvin finally spoke. “That was too close. He almost had you both.”

Chelsea stopped, her hands curling into fists. “You think this is over?” she said bitterly. “You don’t know Gabriel.”

I frowned. “He’s dead, Chelsea. He can’t—”

A shrill ring cut through the silence, making us all jump. Chelsea fumbled for her phone, her fingers shaking as she answered.

She didn’t say anything, just held the phone to her ear. Her face drained of color as the voice on the other end spoke.

“Put it on speaker,” Calvin said.

She hesitated, then hit the button.

“Hello, doctor,” Gabriel’s voice drawled, smug and alive.

My blood turned to ice.

“You look surprised,” he continued. “Did you really think I’d be stupid enough to face you without a backup plan? Bulletproof vests are quite the lifesaver.”

Chelsea’s hand clenched the phone so tightly I thought it might shatter. “What do you want?” she demanded.

“What I’ve always wanted,” Gabriel said smoothly. “The truth. You see, dear Chelsea, you’re not as untouchable as you think. And unless you want the world to know about your little… experiments, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

Chelsea’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.

“Oh, and one more thing,” Gabriel added, his tone dripping with malice. “Tell Kristie to run while she still can. Because next time, I won’t miss."

The line went dead.

I stared at Chelsea, my chest tightening. Her secrets, my identity, and Gabriel’s vendetta—it was all spiraling out of control.

“What do we do now?” I whispered.

Chelsea didn’t answer. She just stared into the darkness, her expression grim.

Calvin glanced at me, his jaw set. “We fight back.”

That’s the point. But… how?

“We need to go to my safehouse.” Calvin spoke.