Chapter 1: Wake Up, Zephyrus

Maybe that's why religion is popular. The belief that a God who cares for His subjects exists? No wonder those charlatans who call themselves priests are rich as hell.

But it would be ironic for a person who once led the life of a cleric, with no shred of belief toward the God their religion worshipped, to be the one to judge them.

Though sometimes, a person does wish for a being to strengthen us and help us in our darkest moments.

Heh. Anyway, there are only two kinds of religious people in this world.

One of them is those who have no one to turn to. Those who have experienced pain and are looking for answers as to why they are hurting.

And the other are those who seek excuses for the hurt they have done unto others. Those who seek proof that they are not the ones who are wrong, but instead that those around them are.

"What kind are you then, Father?" a childish voice asked in curiosity. The question came from a young girl with green hair and turquoise eyes, with wings as white as snow on her back. The person parallel to the young girl gazed at her.

With darkness surrounding them, with only a malfunctioning lamp flickering with light, the dim illumination revealed a man wearing a bird mask and a cloak, with a serene expression on his face. Tilting his head at the question, he chuckled. "Hmm… Me? Well, I guess I'm more of the latter."

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"Wake up."

Zephyrus woke up with groggy eyelids. Having no energy, she turned her face away from the voice, tucking herself deeper into her blanket.

"Ugh, fine then, do whatever you want. Don't blame me when you get in trouble," a nagging voice shouted at her, but Zephyrus didn't pay any attention at all. It was just Sandra, after all. In the first place, she wouldn't get into trouble at all with Father.

More like Sandra will, with her not being able to convince me to come down. She chuckled, having no sympathy for her least favorite sibling, secretly looking forward to her suffering.

"You know, if you have the energy to laugh, you could afford to eat breakfast," a voice called out to her suddenly, making her flinch and her eyes widen in mild surprise.

Staring at her with mild annoyance was her sister, Zelda, sitting on a stool right next to her bed. "Are you going to talk, or are you going to make me look stupid?" Zelda clicked her tongue.

Truly, moments like this where her sister Zelda gazed at her with furrowed eyebrows made one forget that Zelda is not at all as patient as everyone says she is.

Zephyrus climbed off the bed without saying a word. She faced her sister with her bright turquoise eyes. Looking at her, Zephyrus was once again reminded of how much of a beauty her sister is. With her blonde hair and green eyes, Zelda looked like a princess. Despite Zelda still sitting on a stool, Zephyrus could see that their heads were only a centimeter apart. Tsk, I'm still 11, anyway. I'm going to grow much taller than her.

"I was just resting," Zephyrus replied.

"Uh-huh," Zelda looked at her with unconvinced eyes before continuing. "But whatever, let's just go down and eat breakfast already. I'm sure they're waiting for us."

Zephyrus scratched her cheek, feeling a bit guilty. She sometimes forgot that her siblings didn't get much leeway compared to her. They had to wait for Father's command before eating, unlike her, who was allowed to eat whenever she wanted.

Shoving down her sudden guilt and shame, she refused to admit that she caused trouble. Zephyrus followed Zelda into the dining room.

The dining room was grand and imposing, with high ceilings adorned with chandeliers that sparkled in the morning light. Fine china plates, the kind that's really expensive, and silverware adorned the long, polished oak table, while a large fireplace crackled warmly at one end of the room. Heavy curtains framed tall windows, through which sunlight streamed, casting patterns on the carpet floor. The scent of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee filled the air, mingling with the aroma of sizzling bacon and eggs.

She was greeted with the sight of several of her siblings glaring at her. Timidly, she hid behind Zelda's back to avoid the glares.

(Zelda's POV)

Zelda sighed at her siblings' antics. The two of them then sat in their designated seats, with Zelda sitting right next to Zephyrus, and with Zephyrus, on the other hand, right next to their father. Admittedly, seeing such a sight made Zelda twitch in jealousy, but she couldn't afford to have such evil thoughts.

Taking a bite out of the celery on her plate, Zelda thought that today seemed different. The table had a wide array of delicious foods of all kinds: fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, fresh fruit, warm pastries, and a variety of cheeses and cold cuts. The sight made her wonder if there was some kind of occasion. Zelda continued eating when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

With a cheeky grin, Eris said, "Hey, hey, Zel~~."

Eris had blue hair and golden eyes. She and Zelda were close not only in age but in their bond too. Eris sneakily talked to her in a hushed voice.

"What?" Zelda grunted in reply.

"Do you think there's some big surprise?" Eris asked with an excited face, very much invading her personal space. Zelda smacked Eris' face away and replied, "I dunno."

"Ehhh," Eris replied with a disappointed pout. Then her golden eyes glanced towards Zephyrus and back to Zelda. "How about the golden child? Does she know anything?"

Zelda didn't give any response as she felt her eyebrow twitching at the title and berated her sibling. "Stop it, Eris. You know how Zephyrus hates being called that."

"But it's true, though," Eris grumbled in reply and went back to eating her breakfast.

Zelda sighed, knowing that stopping her siblings from calling Zephyr names was a lost cause. Deep inside, Zelda understood where they were coming from.

It was unfair, after all. Unlike the rest of us "prototypes," Zephyrus, on the other hand, was what Father had wished to obtain. Father was an ex-priest with questionable devotion. He was...

Scccrrreeeeccccchhhhhhh. The sound of a chair echoed through the spacious dining room.

Everyone looked at the source of the chair being pulled, which was Father.

"What is it, Father?" Zelda asked, trying to mask her curiosity.

Father looked at them all, his eyes lingering on Zephyrus. "Zephyrus and I need to do our daily check-up," he said curtly before leaving without another word. Zephyrus followed after him.

The rest of the siblings were left not knowing what happened but not really surprised. After seeing that the two were really gone, the siblings then excitedly gossiped among themselves.

There were (seven) six children in the house.

One was Zephyrus, "the golden child," the one experiment that succeeded. She had green hair and turquoise eyes with a pair of angel wings. Two was Thermis. He had bloody red hair and purple eyes. He used to have wings, but they were deemed a failure, for they mutated, and all that was left were small buds on his back. Three was Zelda, with blonde hair and green eyes. She was never even able to grow wings. Four was Kyle, or "Pride," as he liked to call himself. He had black hair and golden eyes. Like Zelda, he never grew his wings and was also deemed a failure. Five was Sandra. She had black hair and green eyes. The experiment caused her to incur burns on her back, making it hard for her to even walk. It was truly a disaster, and Father deemed her the most disappointing result of all the children. Six was Eris, with blue hair and golden eyes. It was not truly noticeable, but Eris was just incompatible. In the end, as Father was afraid of turning her into another Sandra, her sessions were stopped. Seven was Jenny, with brown hair and brown eyes. She was dead.

The siblings that were alive continued to talk amongst each other.

"I wonder what Father and Zephyrus are doing," one of them mused.

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As Zephyrus followed Father into the dimly lit basement, a sense of foreboding grew within her. The air grew colder, and the flickering lights cast long, eerie shadows that danced on the damp, stone walls. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Father stopped in front of a heavy, metal door. With a creak, he pushed it open, and a wave of nauseating stench hit Zephyrus, making her gag.

Inside, the room was a macabre chamber of horrors. The dim light barely illuminated the grotesque scene, but what Zephyrus could see was enough to freeze her blood. The walls were lined with shelves filled with jars, each containing deformed and malformed fetuses suspended in a murky, yellowish fluid. Their tiny, distorted faces seemed to silently scream in eternal agony.

In the center of the room, a large, blood-stained table stood, its surface covered with rusted surgical instruments and torn pieces of flesh. Chains and manacles hung from the ceiling, some still swinging gently as if recently disturbed. The floor around the table was slick with a dark, viscous liquid that Zephyrus could only hope was water, though she knew better.

But the most horrifying sight was the bodies. On the far side of the room, piled haphazardly like discarded dolls, were the remains of previous experiments. Limbs twisted at unnatural angles, faces frozen in expressions of terror, and wings—some fully formed, some grotesquely misshapen—lay amongst the corpses. The decay and rot were palpable, and the buzzing of flies filled the air, drawn to the festering remains.

Zephyrus's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to tear her eyes away from the horror before her. Her mind screamed for her to run, to escape this nightmare, but her body was paralyzed with fear. Father's calm voice broke the silence, chilling her to the core.

"Let's start the check up, shall we?" he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "This is where you were born. And this is where we will see if you truly are one that would bring eternal glory."

Zephyrus stared at the grotesque scene, her mind reeling with horror. The word escaped her lips in a trembling whisper, capturing the depth of her despair and disbelief. "Fuck."

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Cue SONG

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CLACK—the pieces of the broken vase went flying.

"Ugh, seriously, Zelda, what's up with you today?" Sandra said in an annoyed tone, directing another sibling to get the broom.

Zelda stared at the floor, specifically at the pieces of the vase. She gazed blankly at them, as if in a trance. Sandra, growing more frustrated, shoved the broom into Zelda's hands before walking away.

Zelda felt on edge. She didn't know why, but she had a feeling that something bad was going to happen. She shook these thoughts away and began to clean up the broken pieces.

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"Fuck," Zephyrus cursed as her anxiety spiked. She knew it was wildly inappropriate given the setting, but could you blame her? She had always known her father was strange, but this level of insanity was beyond her comprehension. Looking at the scene before her, she wondered if it was all a delusion or if she was simply dreaming.

She couldn't decide whether to scream or gag from the disgusting sight in front of her. She was leaning towards screaming her guts out because the place looked like hell, with body parts and bloodstains as far as the eye could see.

"What did you say?" Father asked.

"Hahaha. Fuck," Zephyrus thought, resisting the urge to bash her head on the table. If it wasn't for the torn pieces of flesh covering it, she would have done so without hesitation. "Nothing, I said nothing," she mumbled meekly in reply.

Father looked at her with unconvinced eyes but let the issue go without a reprimand.

"I believe it's time."

"What's time?" Zephyrus asked, gulping as she looked at the floor beneath her. She didn't have the courage to meet her father's eyes.

"Didn't I say that the check-up would begin? Tsk... tsk... were you not listening at all, my child?" Father asked, his voice accompanied by the sound of his shoes tapping, sending chills down Zephyrus's spine.

"I don't understand... Father."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The sound of footsteps grew closer until they stopped. Zephyrus could feel a chilling sensation as her father's gaze went towards her. Meekly raising her head, she faced him.

Looking directly at him, she saw the crazy glint in his eyes and the cruelty to them. Zephyrus didn't think anything could be worse than this moment, but reality often disappoints.

As she stood in the horror chamber, her father's voice seemed to echo louder, making his whispered words ring in her ears.

"This is where you were born." The realization hit her like a physical blow. She was not just a favored child; she was an experiment. Her wings, her special treatment—everything began to make horrific sense.

From the beginning, Zephyrus had known by looking at her siblings that they were not a normal family. But maybe because she was young or perhaps just naive, she had blindly hoped that even though they had a purpose, a use, that even though experiments were the only reason for their adoption.

They were still a family, albeit a dysfunctional one. She had hoped—no, she had believed—that Father loved them... loved her particularly.

"Father, why are you doing this?" she managed to whisper, her voice shaking.

Father turned to her, his bird mask hiding any expression, but his eyes were cold and calculating. "Because, my dear Zephyrus, you are the culmination of years of work. You have the potential to be perfect, unlike your siblings."

"Perfect?" she gasped in reply. Perhaps not expecting such an answer, Father looked at her with eyes that seemed to question her competence and intelligence.

"Do I have to explain everything to you? I honestly expected better, Zephyrus," Father said harshly. "Unlike your siblings who couldn't handle it, you were able to. Something I have always wondered about but attributed to a miracle."

Father placed his hands on Zephyrus's face, holding her as if she were something precious. And maybe she was, but not as a daughter—as a commodity, a tool for his selfish desires.

"Do you not remember? Our sessions?" Father said. Zephyrus flinched. Of course, she remembered those sessions. They were something she had always hated, but she knew the necessity her father always spoke of.

He told her she had to take good care of her wings. Father would groom her, pruning her feathers into place. In some cases, he pulled out feathers he felt didn't belong. In those sessions, she felt like a doll, but she convinced herself it was all because Father wanted her to look her best. So she let things be because she, Zephyrus, didn't want to be hated, ignored, or unloved, like the rest of her siblings.

Anything but that.

Zephyrus struggled to maintain her composure as Father's grip tightened slightly. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, now bore into hers with an intensity that made her stomach churn. She felt the weight of his expectations pressing down on her, suffocating her.

"Father, I... I don't understand," she stammered, her voice trembling.

Father sighed, releasing her face and stepping back. "You were always the brightest, Zephyrus. The one who showed the most promise. But now, you disappoint me with your ignorance."

His words cut deep, and Zephyrus felt tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them away, refusing to show weakness. "I'm sorry, Father. I'll try to understand."

"Good," he said, his tone softening slightly. "You must, for the sake of our work."

Zephyrus nodded, though her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. She glanced around the room, trying to find anything that could help her make sense of the situation. The jars, the table, the instruments—they all seemed to mock her ignorance.

As she stood there, lost in her thoughts, Father began to prepare the instruments on the table. The sound of metal clinking against metal sent shivers down her spine. She watched as he meticulously arranged each tool, his movements precise and practiced.

"Today's session will be different," Father said, not looking up from his work. "We're going to push your limits, see how much you can truly handle."

Zephyrus's heart raced. "Push my limits? How?"

Father finally looked up, a cruel glint playing in his eyes. "You'll see, my dear. You'll see."

Looking at her father, the only resounding thought she had right now was that she wished to wake up from this nightmare.

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End of chapter 1