Chapter 7: A Glimpse of Freedom

For a smoother getaway the next day, Ivy reluctantly agreed to Ethan's peculiar plan. However, she firmly laid down one rule: she wouldn't spend the night in the same room as him without some boundaries. Who knew if his charm would work its magic again? If Ethan couldn't respect this small request, she'd just have to find another way out.

Fortunately, despite Ethan's eccentric logic, he seemed reasonable enough. He began peeling off layers of bedsheets from his mattress—one, two, three… all the way to the fifth layer. Each sheet was tossed aside with casual nonchalance.

How many layers does he need? Ivy barely resisted the urge to count them aloud.

After a moment, Ethan wrapped the fifth sheet around himself like a makeshift toga and left the room without a word.

Ivy stared after him, blinking. What kind of character am I dealing with?

A Small Victory

About ten minutes later, Ethan returned, now dressed impeccably in a lab coat, with a pair of rimless glasses perched on his nose. His long, previously disheveled bangs had been neatly combed to one side, giving him a refined and professional appearance.

"Here," he said, tossing her a spare lab coat. "This is the only thing here you can wear."

Ivy hastily pulled it on, feeling slightly less exposed but far from comfortable. Wearing nothing but a lab coat made her feel like the star of a bad doctor-themed comedy.

"Actually," she ventured, "I wouldn't mind my own clothes. Where did you put them?"

Ethan adjusted his glasses, his voice slow and dripping with disdain. "They were too dirty. I threw them out."

Ivy froze, her jaw tightening. Without another word, she turned on her heel, climbed into the bed, and pulled the remaining covers tightly around herself. Closing her eyes, she muttered curses under her breath.

This guy is impossible. May he never get a good night's sleep—

Ethan raised an eyebrow as he observed her cocooned in his bed, her face buried in the sheets. After a moment of consideration, he left the room, shutting the door gently behind him.

A Mystery Below

Ivy's ears perked up at the sound of his departure. She cautiously sat up, ready to investigate. If he's gone, she thought, I could grab whatever I need and make a run for it.

But as soon as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, a wave of dizziness hit her. The room blurred and spun, forcing her to clutch the mattress for stability.

What's wrong with me? she wondered. She couldn't recall anything suggesting her body should feel so weak.

After a few moments, the dizziness subsided. Ivy rubbed her temples, trying to regain her focus. Before she could decide her next move, Ethan returned, holding a glass of water in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other.

"Take these," he said, offering them to her with the same calm detachment he used for everything.

Ivy frowned, suspicion flaring. "How do you know what's wrong with me?"

Ethan smirked faintly. "A guess," he said, "based on the fact that I tested an unapproved antibody on myself a few days ago. The side effects can transfer through physical contact. Or so I've observed."

Ivy stared at him, her irritation mounting. Of course, this guy would use himself as a guinea pig.

Reluctantly, she took the pills and swallowed them with the water. Ethan's gaze lingered on her as she tilted her head back, his sharp eyes following the motion.

When she finished, he took the glass from her and said, "Good night," before leaving the room.

A Late-Night Inspection

Left alone, Ivy felt the tension in her body begin to ease. The dizziness faded, and her mind cleared. It wasn't long before her curiosity got the better of her.

Peeking out through the door, she saw Ethan moving between his machines, inspecting equipment and jotting notes. After a few minutes, he retrieved a key from a wall-mounted rack and descended into a dark underground passage.

Ivy's heart raced. That's where he really works.

Quietly, she stepped out of the room and crept toward the edge of the passage. From the top of the stairs, she could hear the faint echo of Ethan's footsteps, steady and deliberate as a metronome.

What's down there? she wondered.

The thought of following him was tempting, but she quickly dismissed it. Don't be stupid. He's probably got a dozen traps set up.

She retreated to the lab instead, searching for anything useful. Shelves lined with vials and instruments caught her eye, but most were locked behind secured cases. Each required a passcode, and her attempts to guess were futile.

Her eyes flicked to a monitor displaying a live feed from below. Ethan's face suddenly appeared on the screen, his glasses glinting ominously in the dim light.

"Put everything back where you found it," he said coolly. "And go back to bed."

The camera feed shifted, showing a massive room lined with transparent containment units. Inside the units were people—no, creatures. Some were writhing in pain, their bodies grotesquely distorted. Others were mindlessly violent, attacking whatever or whoever shared their confinement.

Ivy gagged, covering her mouth as bile rose in her throat. She tore her gaze away, trembling.

Ethan's voice cut through her horror. "Unless you'd like to join them," he said, his tone as calm as ever, "I suggest you obey."

Ivy didn't need further convincing. Shutting down the monitor, she hurried back to the rest area and locked the door behind her. She curled up on the bed, her mind racing.

This man isn't just a character from some story. He's real—and far worse than I imagined.

Morning Comes

When Ivy woke, her body felt heavy, like it had been weighed down by her nightmares. Blinking groggily, she found Ethan standing by the bed, a small vial in his hand.

"Good morning," he said, spinning a keyring casually around his finger. The soft chime of the keys grated on her nerves.

Ivy sat up, her eyes narrowing. "What's that?"

Ethan handed her the vial—the serum she'd been searching for.

He smiled faintly, his tone light. "Sleep well?"

Ivy glared at him. "Not at all."

Ignoring her sarcasm, Ethan straightened. "You're free to go now," he said, stepping back.

She wasted no time slipping out of bed and heading for the door. As she reached the threshold, a small robot rolled into her path, holding a pair of white high heels in its metallic grip.

Ivy turned, puzzled. "Why?"

Ethan adjusted his glasses, his expression unreadable. "It's unseemly to let a woman leave barefoot. Call it respect."

Her lips twitched into a grimace. "Or small change for a one-night stand?"

Ethan nodded, entirely unbothered. "If that's how you prefer to frame it."

Ivy snatched the shoes, slipping them on. Without another word, she strode out the door, her heart pounding.

Ethan watched her go, his dark eyes gleaming with quiet amusement. After a moment, he stepped out as well, following her at a deliberate, silent pace.