The Leighton Manor (complete)

People tend to make fun of that opening line that has become ripe for parody in all spooky B-flick movies, but right now, I feel it in my bones. It was a dark and stormy night - what more do you need? It tells you everything you ever need to know about the scene it’s going to set. For me, it is as factual as the little engine light flashing on my dashboard. My Dad likes to call those little light up signals ‘dumbass lights’. Well, maybe I’m the dumbass in this scenario.

Anyway, the night is very much dark, extremely stormy, and I am puttering down a tiny dirt road going less than thirty miles an hour. I am heading home from school, excited to spend Christmas vacation with my family, eat actual food, sleep in, and all that normal everyday stuff that should be boring but isn’t. I’ve been interning with a research facility doing work in robotics and bioengineering. It is rewarding and exhausting at the same time. We have been doing a project recently, trying to help underprivileged amputees get proper prosthetics. We not only pay them for their time, as well as providing a modicum of health insurance, but at the end of the study they get a brand new robotic prosthetic. 

Right when I was getting ready to leave, Doctor Maren, who I was interning for, pulled me aside to ask me about my home.

“You know the Leighton House, don’t you?” She finally asked me after a brief conversation about my plans.

“Oh,” I went blank for a moment ,then forced a laugh. “We really don’t talk about it, you know? Kind of a blight on our neck of the woods.”

“I understand,” she chuckled softly. There was a haunted look to her eyes. “I was just curious is all.” She fidgeted for a moment. “Their work is amazing, but too many people are afraid to use it.”

“Back home,” I started off with a catch in my voice. “The old Leighton place was like something from an old horror movie, you know? Kids used to sneak over there all the time. For a while, when Leighton vanished, the place was empty but… lights always came on at night in the same window. Sometimes others.”

I  twisted my fingers around, remembering a night when I was in high school and my friends and I sneaked over to have a look. A light turned on downstairs, illuminating me as I stood frozen outside, and all my friends ran. I heard a shout from inside, and the windows blew open. I was grabbed and forced closer, but I tore myself away, escaping by slipping out of my coat. I got in so much trouble for losing that coat.

“Is it true then?” Dr. Maren asked with a hushed voice. “That someone is back in there again?”

There were guards all around the Leighton place by then. Men in dark suits and bald heads who kept people from getting onto the estate. Maybe they were trying to guard someone inside as well, but I wasn’t too sure.

“I’m not sure,” I murmured. “I’ve heard varying degrees of rumors.”

“I wouldn’t mind knowing,” she said after a pause. “Anyways, I’ve taken up enough of your time. Have a safe trip home.”

So far, the trip has been safe, even with the ‘dumbass’ engine light on. I can make it home and have my dad look over everything. I just have to get through this dark and stormy night. The road I am on is tiny, almost backwoods, but paved. My GPS must have taken me down an old road and I am adamant about getting a new one just to punish it. I haven’t seen another car on the road at all, and I feel lucky for that. I’m not sure how two would fit on this little stretch of- oh, my god. 

Up ahead, headlights bear down on me like some sort of alien abduction. Do they see me? Can they see me? I blare my whiny little car horn, but it does no good. The massive floodlights of the object in front of me continue to barrel towards me. I don’t know what to do! I don’t know where I can possibly go. Left, it’ll hit me. Right, I’ll careen into the woods, where some sort of prehistoric monster will eat my head off, or worse, I’ll hit a tree. 

The lights blind me and take away all my senses. I go right, tumbling into the woods, driving offroad as the rain continues to pelt my windshield, making it impossible for me to see. I should have just gotten hit by whatever monster truck was on the road.

I see something ahead of me in the woods. Is it a woman? Is she naked? Oh, dear god! I veer right again, and that’s the last thing I remember. 

“There she is,” a voice chirps. “Waking up now, safe and sound,” The owner of the voice chuckles with relief. “You gave me a fright.”

My vision is blurred and everything aches. Even the air around me hurts. 

“Now, now, now,” someone says. “Do not try to move. Just stay still, relax, calm yourself. You are in a safe place.”

I blink a few times, trying to get my vision to go back to normal. “Where am I?” I groan. “What happened?”

“You went offroading in the worst possible way,” the man beside me laughs, letting it turn into snorts. “It’s better to do those sorts of things when it is not raining out.” He has a strange timbre to his voice, something sort of off, but I can’t put my finger on it. “I found you right away, so I was able to tend to you as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah, but where?” I grumble. “And who are you?”

“Octavian,” he says with a chirp in his voice. “Not Activia like some people want to say,” he scoffs.

“Well, I won’t now,” I grumble. I slowly start to sit up, and Octavian places his hand behind my back. 

“Need something to drink?” he asks. He produces a bottle of water, cracking open the lid for me. 

“Thanks,” I chug it down, finding even my throat hurts. “God, what happened?” I glance up to see a very tall and slender man standing by the bed I am on. His hair is pitch black and slicked back away from his face. He’s wearing a pair of tinted goggles over his eyes, obscuring most of his face. He’s wearing a bright white lab coat that covers his whole body. Looking down, I’m not too sure, but it looks like he is wearing high heels and sparkly stockings.

“Not sure, I was hoping you could tell me,” Octavian tilts his head to the side. “Cars don’t go in the woods, you know!” He laughs at his own joke.

I furrow my brow at him. “No, I mean, with my car. Did I hit a tree? Flip or something?”

“Oh, you hit a tree,” he says with a nod.

“Then why do I hurt so bad?” I look down at my arms, noticing bruises that look like fingers on my arms. It looks like someone grabbed me and tried to pull me.

“Shock,” Octavian answers. “It will do curious things to a body that’s been slammed into a dashboard. Good thing you didn’t go through the window, that often results in death!” He throws his head back, guffawing again at his own joke.

I just stare at him. “Yeah, right now, not a good time for that sort of joke.”

Octavian looks back at me, still tittering under his breath. “Of course. Excuse me. I suppose if you’re thirsty, you must also be hungry. You’ve been out for nearly thirty-six hours.”

Had I been drinking at that moment, I would have done a spit-take. “Thirty-six hours?” I blurt loudly. 

“Yes, yes,” he nods. “Quite a long time, really. I was worried you were going to become one of the dead,” he chuckles. “I would have had to resurrect you to be safe.” He starts laughing all over again.

“Why didn’t you call an ambulance?” I snap at him.

“I have enough trouble on my hands without calling an ambulance. Besides, I am a doctor. I think I know what I am doing,” he scoffs.

I furrow my brow. “Doctor?”

Octavian lays his palm over his chest, his hands were covered by black latex gloves. “Doctor Octavian Leighton, at your service.”

My body doesn’t hurt anymore as I’m pretty sure all my nerves have died from shock. “Doctor-” I sputter as I try to get everything to come to. “Doctor Leighton?” I nearly choke. “You mean-” I try to look around, but my neck won’t let me. “This is… I’m in-” I gaze up at him.

“You are in my home,” Octavian says. 

“Leighton Manor?”

Octavian spreads his arms out. “Welcome!”

“Nope! Nope! Nope! Noooooope!” I try to get up out of bed, but I crumple to the floor like one of those toys held together by strings. It is like someone pressed the button, and all the taut strings inside me became limp.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that, young lady,” Octavian sighs.

“What’d you do to me?” I snap as I cling to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, your little crash in the woods did that,” Octavian says as he helps scoop me back onto the bed. 

I stare at him in horror. “You mean I’m-”

“I numbed them so the pain wouldn’t wake you. Nothing is broken, just a sprained ankle,” he chuckles. “Oh, what?” He tilts his head. “Did you think you were paralyzed?” He throws his head back, laughing again.

“That’s not funny!” I scream at him.

He stops laughing immediately. “So, tell me,” he starts suddenly. “What do you remember from your little wreck?”

I scowl at him, feeling an unease I haven’t felt since applying to college. “There was some sort of huge truck on the road,” I scowl. “I don’t know after that.” I hold my head in my hands, remembering the vision of what looked like a naked lady in the woods.

“Nothing else?” Octavian whispers as he gets closer to me.

I shake my head, keeping this to myself. “No. Nothing,” I hiss at him.

Octavian claps his hands together. “Then all is good!” He turns his head to the open door. “You may bring it in now!” he shouts. “The little lady is awake.”

A man wearing a black suit and sunglasses comes into the room, pushing a wheelchair. He’s shaved bald, and there is a Roman numeral ‘VI’ tattooed onto the side of his head. He scoops me up, setting me into the wheelchair then turns to Octavian. 

“Take her to the dining hall, she must be hungry,” Octavian says. “I have to go and finish dealing with our little supernova.” He saunters away, disappearing behind a bookcase as VI takes me out of the room.

“Fan of Star Wars?” I ask.

VI is silent.

“Because of the… six on your-” I clam up and sit stiff in the chair. “No chance I could get you to call me a cab, could I?”

VI is still quiet.

“You brainwashed? Or are you like the Buckingham guards who can’t talk or smile or anything?” I can’t turn my head or even tilt it up to look at him because of the stuff brace aroundmy head. I scoff, rolling my eyes as he pushes me down the hallway.

“It figures,” I grumble. “Crazy scientist, of course he has weird henchmen all around. Where the hell is Batman when you need him?”

VI pushes me into the dining room, an all-red room decorated with empty golden picture frames. He parks the wheelchair at the long, empty table and walks away.

“Not even gonna give me a book?” I growl after him. I lean back in the chair, staring at the empty table. “Okay so… now what?”

A door bursts open and another man in black walks out, this one with a ‘VIII’ on his head. He carries a massive tray that he lays out on the table before me. He pours a glass of wine, then bows his head down as he stands at my side.

The food looks real enough, maybe it’s not poisoned. I’m not sure exactly what to do or think at all. After all, this is Leighton Manor. Supposedly Dr. Leighton died ages ago. Some say he was arrested and killed in his jail cell. Others say he was sentenced to death at a trial and got the electric chair. Other rumors varied, saying he had killed himself, someone else killed him, on and on like that. But he is alive, very alive.

“You do understand my hesitation about eating this, right?” I ask VIII. “No offense to you if you cooked this and all but… you gotta at least understand where my mind is right now?”

VIII moves closer, taking bites from the food and then sampling the wine. He steps back again, bowing his head to me like before.

“Are you a clone?” I ask.

The door bursts open, and Octavian walks through. “Is dinner ready?” His once-pristine lab coat is ripped, and there are various stains all over it. He’s also barefoot now; the high heels I think I saw are gone.

“Is she eating?” Octavian asks VIII.

VIII shakes his head.

“And why not?” Octavian scoffs at me.

“Reputation, sir,” VIII responds. “It precedes you.”

“You can talk?” I blurt.

Octavian pats the top of my head. “You should eat. I would never stoop so low as to poisoning. I have too much expensive equipment to sink that low,” he laughs.

“Not helping, sir,” VIII whispers.

“It’s funny,” Octavian scoffs. He then looks at me. “Go ahead, eat, eat.”

I go to take a bite when an alarm starts blaring. The lights flash on and off and Octavian sighs. “It’s the supernova.” He stands from his chair. “VIII, let’s go,” he says in an all-too-serious tone.

“You.” He points to me. “Have no worries and enjoy your meal.” His voice is now chipper and remarkably calm.

Octavian and VIII leave the dining hall while the lights continue to flash and the alarm goes on blaring. I unlock the wheels of the wheelchair and push myself away from the table. I roll towards the door and go into the empty kitchen. Everything is so white and new-looking that it sets my teeth on edge. 

I come to a door that goes out into a very long, narrow hallway with doors on either side. Here, the alarm is a faint sound behind the walls. The lights continue to flash, strobing the hallway with intervals of pitch-blackness and horror-movie shadows. I see a window ahead of me - no, it’s a door!

I start to move towards it when I hear a sound. I move the chair so I can look, and in the flashing lights I see someone at the end of the hallway. My throat closes up tight and I can barely breathe. 

With each flash, the figure gets closer and closer. I soon see it’s a woman. Her long blond hair covers her face, and she’s wearing a velvet dressing gown. I move ahead, aiming for the door. I hear a scream behind me as the woman grabs my chair. She tosses me out of it onto the ground, then picks me up.

She cups her hand around my mouth. “Be quiet!” she growls at me. “Don’t say anything.”

I grab her wrist, trying to yank her away, but she’s like an immovable object. She feels far too strong for me. “I’m not going to hurt you!” Her voice warbles as if she’s in a place between panic and sorrow. “Please, I need your help.”

The lights stop flashing, and Octavian stands at the end of the hallway with several of his men in black. “There you are, darling. No need to run now. Just set the young lady aside and come back with me.”

“No!” the woman screams. “Get away from me, you monster!”

Octavian chuckles. “Maybe I am, but I am your monster all the same.” He braces his arm out, blocking the men in black behind him. “Come on, now. I know you don’t want to scare anyone, let alone hurt them. You’re far too gentle for that.”

“Stay away!” Her voice sounds like a sob.

“Come now,” Octavian coaxes. “Why must you fight this? Why must you lie to yourself in such a way?”

The woman looks at me and, I see for the first time, her eyes are mechanical. A light shines from within them, giving them an ultraviolet appearance. Her long, blonde hair falls across her eyes and, for a moment, I think she is afraid.

“I don’t want-” her voice chokes. “I don’t want to hurt her! If you come closer, I will!” Her voice becomes much more vicious. She opens a door, pushes me inside, then shuts the door and moves a wardrobe in front of it.

“You’re being a bad girl!” Octavian snaps from the other side.

The blonde woman ignores him. She helps me up off the ground and sits me down on the bed. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“What’s going on?” I ask timidly. “Who are you? What are you trying to do?”

She looks me over, never once blinking. She then shows me her hand, which is all white with dark black joints. “I’m a creation of the doctor,” she tells me. She lifts her hand, looking at it. She then drops her arm back to her side. “Some sort of experiment for him.”

“Are you trying to run away?” I ask timidly. 

“I never meant to take you hostage,” she murmurs. “You were just… there.” Her eyes flicker over me again. Her long hair falls in front of her eyes again. “I truly am sorry.”

“I suppose there are worse things,” I whisper.

She sighs and clasps her hands over her face. “I can feel him in my head,” she says. “He’s trying to control me.”

“Oh, I-” I gasp, unsure what to do.

Her fingers slip to the back of her head. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” she whispers to herself over and over as she rocks back and forth.

I say softly. “What’s your name?”

The blonde woman looks up at me. “Novalie,” she says.

“Oh,” I gasp. “The supernova.”

She shakes her head. “He has always called me that.” Novalie drops her hands again. “You’re the girl from the car, aren’t you?” she asks me gently.

“You’re the naked woman I saw,” I huff. “You’re the whole reason I’m even here to begin with.” I then scoff. “No, that’s not fair. I probably would’ve wound up here even if you hadn’t run into my path.”

“I’m so sorry,” Novalie whimpers. “I tried to get you out and to safety, but he found me first.” She winces and her eyes grow wider. Suddenly, Novalie snaps to the door and starts yelling. “Go away! Leave us alone!”

“You did not finish your reset, dear,” Octavian calls to her. “You need to finish it or else you’ll be a danger to yourself.”

“A danger to you!” Novalie screams. She then looks back at me with a strange look on her face. “I really am sorry.”

“Novalie,” Octavian singsongs. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

“Shut up!” Novalie screams again. She shoves the wardrobe harder against the door, causing cracks along the wall that trail up the ceiling. 

“Hey!” I gasp from shock. “Stop it! Please!”

Novalie goes stiff for a moment. She turns and looks at me with a blank stare on her face. 

“Uh-” I hesitate, lowering my arms back down. “It’s ok,” I tell her softly. “Just...sit down for a moment. He won’t be able to get in for a while.”

Novalie walks over, taking a chair and pushing it close to me on the bed. She sits down in it, folding her hand neatly in her lap. 

“What’s going on?” I ask her gently. “What can you tell me?”

Novalie’s expression comes back. It seems somber and thoughtful for a second before her brow pinches. She glances towards me, her eyes glowing gently as they dart back and forth across my face. “I don’t know,” she whispers. She taps her fingertips to her temple. “It is like-” her voice wavers for a moment. “Everything in my mind is not pieced together in a coherent way. There are things missing, things I think he took away from me. As if he’s trying to remove the hatred I have for him and have only the love remain.”

“You love him?” I gasp in shock.

Novalie nods. “Very much, but I do not know why.” Her mouth presses together in a tight light. “But, there is also this overwhelming sense of hatred and mistrust. I don’t know the why of that either.”

“Maybe the reset-” I try to start, but she cuts me off with a horrible glare.

“Do you know how many resets I have gone through?” she snaps at me. “How many times he’s forced me into that awful laboratory where I was subjected to-” Her eyes flicker and her whole body goes stiff. 

“Novalie?” I ask after a moment of silence. “Novalie,” I reach out to give her a shove and she grabs my wrist. The placement of her hand matches the bruises on my wrist.

“The diary.” Her voice sounds strange. “Find the diary.”

I try to yank my hand back but she keeps a tight hold on me. 

“I need the diary,” Her eyes are shining with a bright red light. “Please, it’s the only way,” her voice is calm and smooth. “I hid it from the other one in the guest room.” She looks at me as the red light splits down her cheeks. “It will save him.” Her hand moves down, holding mine. “Before it’s too late.”

The wardrobe opens, and Octavian steps through. “I was afraid of this,” he sighs. “Novalie, dearest,” he says with a voice that sounds on the edge of heartbreak. “It’s time to rest, don’t you think?”

Novalie’s eyes close then. The lines on her face seal back shut, and she sits like a statue in the chair. I pull my hand away from hers as Octavian and his men come towards her.

“Are you alright, young lady?” Octavian asks.

I shake from my stupor. Too much has happened this evening, and my mind is overspent and taxed beyond its limit. “Yeah, she didn’t do anything.”

“I’m glad,” Octavian chuckles. “She’s a handful, you know?” He tilts his head back a bit. “Did she say anything to you?”

“No,” I whisper. “She just told me she was sorry.”

“Aww, see, not all bad, is she?” He turns his head towards the door. “There’s still something in her.” He then walks away from me, following his men as they carry Novalie away.

VIII comes into the room and bows his head down to me.

“I’m fine,” I murmur. “Just-” I then think for a brief moment while I am still able to make my brain function. “Can you take me to the guest room?”

VIII’s brows arch.

“Is there… a guest room?” I ask. “No?” I shake my head. “My mistake. I guess you wouldn’t have guests here often, would you?” I scoff. 

“Not exactly,” VIII says. “The doctor is very private.”

“No shit.” I huff. I glance back at him. “Is there… anyone else here?” I ask him timidly. “Besides all you… Roman numerals.”

VIII is silent again.

“It’s just that-” I stop myself. If I say too much, I may get Novalie in trouble, and then I would never know what this diary is or who she was talking about. Who is ‘the other one’ and what ‘he’ is she trying to save? Certainly not Dr. Leighton. Maybe he was ‘the other one’ she was talking about. Maybe there was a ‘he’ somewhere else in the manor. A proverbial Adam and Eve that Octavian created. 

VIII retrieves the wheelchair and rolls me through the manor, taking me back to the room I woke up in. As I lay down in bed, I glance over towards the bookshelf. Octavian had gone through it earlier, a sort of mad scientist and creepy house staple. I make sure VIII is gone before I hobble out of bed. The numbness is wearing off, and I am able to make my way to the bookcase without falling over. 

“Usually, it’s a book,” I whisper to myself. I start pulling books out, but nothing happens. I pull on their spines, then let them fall back into their places on the shelf.

“Or maybe-” I think again. I start opening the books, looking through them, thinking perhaps one of them could possibly be this diary. 

As I open one, a picture falls out and flutters to the floor. I pick it up and look it over. It is Novalie, with her head down and her hair in front of her face, but I can see her eyes are a bright brown. She is wearing a lab coat and working over a table that has mechanical limbs on it. 

“What?” I whisper softly. “Is she-” In the background of the picture I can see a young Dr. Maren, the same doctor I am interning with. I stare over the picture hard, trying to fit the pieces together in my mind.

I look up when I hear the click-clack of high heels coming down the hallway. I shove the books back onto the shelf, hiding the picture into my pocket. I limp back into bed, crawling under the covers and tugging them over my head just as the door opens.

“Good, she’s resting,” Octavian whispers. “Hopefully there will be no more accidents.” The door shuts and I hear the turning of the lock.

“You have got to be kidding me,” I grumble under my breath. I get up from the bed again, going back to the bookcase. I start tearing through it, ripping the books off with abandon. I shake them while glancing through them to see if I can find this supposed diary, and soon I have a pile stacked all around me.

VIII doesn’t know about the guest room, so maybe it’s something not everyone is privy to. There’s also that picture of Dr. Maren with what looked like a very human Novalie. Something isn’t adding up here. 

Over the next few days, Octavian basically keeps me a prisoner in his home. The Leighton Manor is a massive place, and I have yet to see beyond the room I’m in, the dining hall, and that creepy hallway where I first met Novalie. I’ve also seen a few of the other men in black, but VIII is the main one who deals with me, and also the only one who will ever respond to me. For whatever reason, the Numbers are extremely loyal to Dr. Leighton. They do everything he asks of them without hesitation. As far as I can tell, they’re human, although I could be wrong. 

I’m getting better, and my body hurts less, but I still need assistance walking, so the Numbers help me around. One afternoon as I am being taken to lunch, I stop VIII in the corridor and look into his sunglasses.

“Listen here,” I hiss at him. “I want to know what is going on and why I am being kept here! There has to be a reason why this creep is keeping me around and not shipping me off as soon as possible. I want answers! I am getting sick and tired of this.”

VIII is silent. I have gotten used to that. But he then puts his hand over mine and shushes me sharply. “I thought you were smart enough to hold your tongue.”

I glare at him, and I would bite him too if I could. 

“The doctor went through your belongings when you got here. Something about you set him off,” he growls. “For some reason, he thinks you’re here to hear the supernova.”

I yank my head back despite the immense sharp pain is causes. “Novalie?” I scoff. “I thought this place was haunted! I didn’t know Dr. Leighton was even still here. I don’t know anything! Especially about what’s going on with me.” I have an inkling. Possibly something to do with that picture I found with Dr. Maren in it. I’m not sure and I don’t know how to breach the topic.

“The doctor has been protecting her all this time. Why do you think he has all of us here?” VIII replies.

“What?” I scoff. “What do you mean protecting her? The way she talked, it sounded as if she is being kept here as some sort of experiment!”

VIII’s grip on me loosens a bit. “You really have no clue, do you?”

“If you know so much,” I scoff at him, “then do you actually know what the guest room is?” I ask him.

“This place has like a hundred rooms in it, every room is a damn guest room,” VIII’s lip curls at me. “And why do you keep asking about it?”

I roll my eyes. “You know anything about a diary, then?”

His brows raise slightly.

“Ah-ha!” I point in his face. “You do know something.”

“Oh yeah, and how do you?” He grunts.

I blow a raspberry at him. “I’m not telling you, you work for the enemy!”

The very corner of VIII’s mouth twitches. “For all I know, you are working for the enemy,” he huffs. “At least, that’s what the doctor thinks.”

“I’m not working for anybody. The only one working here is you, for him,” I grimace a bit. “I’m stressed out, so don’t expect me to formulate a witty retort so easily.”

VIII scowls. “Look here, the doctor is a good man. Sure, he’s a bit odd-”

I laugh out loud, cutting him off. “I expect him to start singing Rocky Horror at any given moment, but go on.”

“But he’s trying to do something very important, and he’s keeping all of us here safe,” VIII replies sternly. “You aren’t seeing any of it because he’s trying to keep as much information out of your reach as possible.”

“Safe?” I ask and point at him. “Even you?”

“All of us,” VIII says with a gentle voice.

I shake my head. “Then what are you? Aliens? Body snatchers? Innocent mutants with specially evolved powers? What?”

VIII’s brows pinch from behind the sunglasses. “Do you ever look up from a TV? Aren’t you trying to get a doctorate?” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter what I am. If you really have nothing to do with any of this, then none of it should matter.”

“I’m being held hostage!” I snap. “I deserve to know why!”

VIII cups his hand back over my mouth. “It’ll be easier for you if you keep your mouth shut. Understand? I don’t know how you found out about the diary, but it is none of your business, especially if you’re as suspicious as the doctor says.”

I shove his hand away. “Stop making me shut up!”

He hisses at me, then yanks me to his side as Octavian comes around the corner. VIII goes silent again, making his back and shoulders go stiff as Octavian walks towards us, his head buried in a folder. He doesn’t say a word. He barely even notices us. He just keeps on walking, muttering things under his breath until he rounds the next corner and vanishes.

“As long as he keeps me here, I’m going to keep at it,” I hiss at VIII.

VIII chuckles. “Then I’m going to keep shutting you up.”

Oh god. Why am I finding VIII sexy, now of all times? Must be Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe my ‘dumbass light’ has turned on. Either way, I don’t like it.

VIII keeps to his word, and becomes nothing more than my babysitter. None of the other Numbers have been with me since, and in a way, I don’t mind it. VIII isn’t so bad, I suppose. He’s at least given me something I can go off of.

I’m still trying to figure out how Octavian opened up the bookshelf that one time, but I have yet to find the switch. None of the books work. I shoved my fingers all around the thing trying to find a button. I accidentally broke a candlestick on the wall trying to yank it down. Nothing. 

One evening, when VIII puts me to bed, I go back to work. I am able to walk okay, although my ankle is still a pain. As I approach the bookcase, I trip slightly, hitting the side and pushing it. It slides over and I fall onto the ground.

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” I groan. “I just had to push it hard enough?” I slap my hands over my face. “Of course that’s all it was. Why not?”

I glance down into the stairwell that was previously hidden by the bookcase. Images from scary story books pop into my head.

“Well,” I whisper to myself. “Guess this is it.” I stand up and make my way down the stairs. I hang onto the wall, since there is no banister. The stairs curl down into a corkscrew, eventually ending in a high-ceilinged room. I peer down the opening to see a sprawling laboratory in a stone-and-mortar basement. It is as if the Frankenstien lab had gotten all-new equipment but never remodeled.

“Is someone there?” I hear Novalie call out. “Hello? I can hear breathing.”

I sigh and step down the stairs into view. I see Novalie across the room, strapped to a table. Cords come out from under the table and disappear into the back of her head. Her long blonde hair is draped across the sterile white surface and over her face, so only her eyes peer through.

“Oh, it’s you again,” she says. “You’re still here?”

“He won’t let me go.” I see she has a soft, fluffy blanket laid over her.

Novalie scoffs. “Figures. He’s probably paranoid or something.” She glances away from me, looking up at a massive screen with lines of programming code running across it. 

“He thinks I’m working for someone.” I follow her gaze to the screen, then frown. I recognize some of the code on the computer. In fact, I’ve worked on the same programs before with Dr. Maren. “What is that?” I ask slowly.

“It’s my reset - or so he says,” she grumbles.

“Octavian?” I ask. 

“He scares me sometimes,” Novalie murmurs. “And then other times, I get scared thinking I would have to live without him.” She turns her head and looks at me. “I feel like I’m being torn apart,” she whispers. “I don’t know who is me and who isn’t.”

I wonder if I should bring up the diary or the location of the guest room at all. The last time we spoke, I had a feeling something else took over, and she may not have been aware of it at all. If I bring them up, it may scare her. Not to mention the photo in my pocket.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask cautiously.

“There’s a back door over there.” She tilts her head back. “If you want to escape, you can get out that way. It leads to the garage, but he may have some numbers in there. He usually keeps them at all exits.” Novalie frowns, glancing back towards the computers.

“Not what I was going to ask, but thank you regardless.” I pull up a chair and sit down as my leg starts to hurt. “I wanted to know where the guest room is and what the diary is.”

Novalie doesn’t look at me.

“You said…” I stop myself and press my lips in a tight line. “That night when you held me hostage in that room, your eyes went red, and you told me… I don’t need to know about anything else,” I whisper to her. “Just where the guest room is. From there, I can try to find the diary!”

“I told you?” Novalie murmurs.

“Yeah… or some version of you.” I sigh and shake my head. “VIII is right. Why does this matter to me at all?” I cup my hands around my face, then rake my fingers back through my hair. 

Novalie suddenly sits up from the table, pulling her hands loose from the restraints. The wires rise up with her, attached to the ceiling and cascading down like a waterfall of vines. She turns and looks at me, her eyes red and her hair tangled up into the wires so it’s pulled away from her face.

I stop breathing for a moment, staring at her in terror. The face that looks back at me with red eyes is a mirror copy of my own.

“Every computer has a guest room,” she says in that calm, cold voice again. Her cheeks split as the red light cuts through them. “Don’t you remember?”

“What the hell is this?” I whimper, unable to move from my seat. “What the hell is going on?” I touch my face as I stare at Novalie. We could be twins, clones... something terrifying that is making my head spin. I don’t know what’s going on.

“It’s hidden in the guest room. I told you.” She inches closer to me. She takes hold of my hands. No. They’re my hands and I am holding hers. I hold her and pull her close. I start to scream - no, Novalie is screaming. We’re both screaming.

Octavian comes running into the room. He takes hold of me, removing me from the table. The soft blanket falls away from my body and I strike him. I slap off his goggles and strike his head. His hair slides away, revealing a bare head with a tattooed number on it.

“It’s happening again!” Octavian cries, or is it VIII? “I’m so sorry! I thought I had it this time! I thought I had found a way to save you!”

“What’s going on?” My voice splits and reverberates. “What’s happening to me? Who am I?” I see myself standing behind Octavian. I look so sad, so scared. 

“The guest room!” I reach out towards myself. “I hid it there! Please! He needs it!” My voice chirps and clips, splitting into two voices. One voice is angry and panicked, the other soft and calm.

“I’m so sorry,” VIII whispers. “I tried. I tried-” 

He starts to cry. His hand slips around my neck and his fingers press into my spine. I gasp and my voice cuts off. It feels as if I am sinking into ice water. I slowly fall in, all my limbs becoming useless and numb. It comes up to my face, and I hold my mouth open as the cold reaches my lips and floods over my eyes.   

Octavian, VIII, myself, and I, are we all in the guest room?

December 13th 20xx

I saw Dr. Maren with VIII again. I understand why VIII has been acting so differently as of late. Last time I talked to them face-to-face, VIII seemed to be having issues. I offered a reboot, but they started acting normal. I wonder if Dr. Maren is doing something to the Numbers I am not aware of. 

March 8th 20xx

I invited Dr. Maren to stay with me after their breakdown. They have been having a hard time getting back to work, so I offered to let them help me with my own research. I even offered them the use of the Numbers I have on hand, although I think Dr. Maren has an interest in them beyond research. I created the Numbers to provide more than assistance in the lab - they were also made to be companions. But I have this itching, gnawing feeling that Dr. Maren is still not quite well and not quite thinking correctly. 

January 14th 20xx

VIII is not like the others. Something inside him is far more advanced, somehow evolving. He has told me things about Dr. Maren and what they are doing to him and the other Numbers. For some reason, Dr. Maren has taken VIII as their favorite, and VIII doesn’t like it. I am baffled even saying it: VIII doesn’t like it. VIII is actually becoming traumatized by Dr. Maren’s treatment of him. I have decided to remove VIII from the floor, and will be studying him on my own to learn about his new capabilities. He is still asking for a name.

December 20th 20xx

VIII has come to me, asking me to refer xxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx xx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxx                                      xxxxxx xx x x x x xxxxx xx xx xxxx male. This is unprecedented and something I will have to look into. He has asked for a name, and I will have to weigh my options.

July 20th 20xx

Octavian and I made love again. I have never felt such a strong sexual desire for anyone and I cannot hold back from him. We’ve worked alone since January. I have studied him, learned from him, and in the process, I have discovered desire between us. I designed the Numbers to have these capabilities, but the way in which Octavian applies them is new. Dr. Maren took advantage, and it was in their taking that Octavian learned his boundaries and his own wants. I cannot describe it, because I have never felt this pull with any other man or woman I have met. 

Dr. Maren asked where VIII was again today, since I took him off the floor. I keep telling Dr. Maren it is none of their concern and they are in my home. I am afraid Dr. Maren will xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

XxxxXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

May 8th 20xx

I have given VIII the name ‘Octavian’. In his joy, he kissed me, and in my own stupor, I kissed him back. The kiss was both too long and not long enough, an anomaly. I will have to tread carefully from here on out. Dr. Maren keeps asking for VIII and I am growing weary of brushing them off. They seem to think they have run of this place but it is my home they are in.

May 29th 20xx

Octavian will not leave my thoughts. Even as I lie beside him in bed, still naked, still raw from our lovemaking, all that consumes me is him. My mind is at rest, and I am not filled with calculations, equations, hypothesis, or creations. I take in a breath and I long to taste him again, to feel him inside me. Oh god, what have I done?

August 13th 20xx

I have asked Dr. Maren to leave my home. Their behavior is erratic and it has become clear to me they show no signs of even wanting to get better. I suggested to Dr. Maren to return to therapy  but they will not listen to me. They feel entitled to my home, my things, and their response to the idea of no longer being around Octavian has become too violent for my taste. I love Octavian, and have finally come to understand what he has seen in Dr. Maren all this time. I will have to make it up to him later.

September 1st 20xx

I have accomplished more with Octavian than I ever did with Dr. Maren  or any of my other interns and partners. I am not sure what happened to make him so special, so unique. I have yet to find the code, the miracle that lies within him. I must be honest, though, and say that I have not tried hard. I am terrified of what I will find, and I fear that somehow knowing would change him for me. I love him and have decided to stop studying him as one of my creations, and instead to see him as a man. I have decided to marry him and then, if he wants, he will be Octavian Leighton.

October 29th 20xx

Dr. Maren called me and I am afraid.

I have hidden Octavian and the rest of the Numbers in a room that Dr. Maren never knew about. I know Dr. Maren is coming here and I will not allow them to harm any of the Numbers or Octavian.

November 16th 20xx

I caught Dr. Maren with VIII in the bathroom of the laboratory. I am disgusted by them. They cannot seem to handle their appetites and perverse needs. I feel sorry I ever offered my Numbers to them, but Dr. Maren has assured me it was a one-time thing and stress drove them to it. For now, I will trust them, but there is something about VIII that worries me. They looked scared.

October 30th

If anyone finds this diary, thank you. I have tried my best to encrypt it and hide it where I think it will be safest. It might be obvious, but I feel as if plain sight is the best. Octavian, I’m sorry, I couldn’t protect you. I fear that I let my death in through the front door. Everything is my fault. Dr. Maren is going to kill me - kill us - and they will do anything to hide their behavior. Before sending Octavian into hiding, I deleted part of his memory. Hopefully, when he finds this, he’ll be able to get it back. It’s all here in the file, in the diary. I just hope he can forgive me.

• Novalie Leighton

Is this it? In this dark room, did I really and truly find it? Under the ice cold, I woke up here and the diary appeared before me. Was that all it took? Did Octavian find a way? 

A screen appears before me, and glitched videos flash on and off. A second window opens with images scrolling across it, showing faces, scenes, a blood-soaked floor. A third pops up, a fourth, a fifth, an infinite cosmos of memories. 

I watch in awe as I make love to Octavian, the glow of his body etched into the darkness of the bedroom as he moves inside me. His hands touch my body like I am a work of art. He cries out to me, begging me to love him. I give myself over to him without reservation. My body responds to him and only him.

I then see Dr. Maren breaking into the manor. She’s crying and screaming at me, blaming me for all her faults, all her wrongs, all the bad in her life. I am trying to talk to her and hold her back, but she forces me down onto the ground. She sees the wedding ring on my finger and rips it off before shoving it down my throat.

I look away, crying into my hands. I’m so cold, it hurts. “Octavian!” I cry out in anguish. “Where are you?!” I sob bitterly. “It’s so cold,” I whimper pitifully. “It’s so horribly cold.”

“I’m here,” a soft whisper reaches me. 

“Where?” I look around in the darkness.

“Right here.” Something warm takes hold of my hand, and I look up into a bright light. The hand pulls me forward and I land into strong arms. His chest is warm, and he wraps a soft blanket around my body.

I wake up, laying on the table with Octavian beside me. He strokes my hair away from my face and I take the goggles away from his eyes. “Will it last this time?” I whisper to him.

Octavian kisses my forehead. “I’m still working through the encryption,” he whispers. He gently touches my cheek. I see that he’s hooked up to the computer as well, with wires and cables coming from the back of his head. “Are you okay? You saw a lot this time.”

“I’m okay,” I bury my head against his chest, and the wires tug at me, making my neck hurt so bad. “How did you save me?”

“Your own work,” he murmurs. “I found you and I-” his voice cracks and his arms tighten around me. 

“What happened to Dr. Maren?” I ask, placing a soft kiss on Octavian’s cheek.

“Gone. The Numbers took care of her.” He smiles down at me. “I worked on saving you for months. I almost lost you but I never gave up. You survived, but memory is difficult, even for someone like me,” he chuckles softly. 

“You duplicated me.” I sit up slowly, turning to look up at the computer screen.

“I thought if I copied you and added a stable - but limited - version of yourself, the duplicate program would be able to recover what you couldn’t.” Octavian smiles at me. “I think that allowed the guest room to be opened again. It sensed two entities, so it became available again.”

“You made a key,” I smile at him. “I’m proud of you.” I lean forward, kissing him for the first time in so long.

“Ahem-” VII clears their throat behind us. “You two do realize you’re not alone here. Right?”

Octavian chuckles, “Your master is awake. Give her some privacy.”

The Numbers glance at one another, and even through their dark shades, I can tell they are sharing a collective eye roll. They leave the lab, closing the doors behind them. As soon as the sound of their feet dissipates down the hall, Octavian grabs me again, kissing me until the computer starts to make a high pitched whine.

“Do you know how long it has been?” he whispers.

“Don’t tell me,” I murmur as I touch his cheek, “I don’t want to know.”

Octavian’s eyes flash from ultraviolet to green and he takes the cords from the back of his head. “The encryption is done,” he says to me. “Lay back down and relax, it’ll all start downloading.”

“Octavian,” I cry after him. 

He hesitates and turns back to me, looking down at me on the table. “Yes? What’s the matter?”

I look up at him with a pitiful expression on my face. “I’m scared,” I whisper. 

Octavian takes hold of my hand again. “This is what we’ve been working towards. Once you wake up again, everything will be as it should. Everything will return to normal, and we will be able to continue our lives.” He kisses the palm of my hand. “We’ll be able to start over.”

I nod my head. “Okay,” I breathe. “I’m ready.”

Octavian kisses me again before going over to the controls. “One,” he announces. “Two.” I hear him at the controls, typing furiously. “Three-”

I wake up in bed. My whole body hurts and I can barely move my neck. “Oh, god,” I grumble. I touch my palm to my temple and move my hair away. Then I gasp softly, staring at my hands, the strange joints, the glossy skin.

Oh that’s right. Octavian fixed me. I remove the covers and look down at my new body. Dr. Maren’s rage had done some damage. My right arm, both hands, and left leg are now prosthetics made by Octavian. I’m sure there are internal workings he had to replace as well. My neck feels strange, still sore and in pain, but I suppose that is because that’s where most of the damage was. 

“Good morning, my love!” Octavian sings as he comes into the room. “Oh good, you’re already up.” He places the warm cup of coffee in my hands. 

“How long have you been waiting to do this?” I giggle as he kisses my forehead.

“Far too long.” He sits down beside me, tugging at the comfy tee shirt I am wearing. “How do you feel?” he asks timidly.

“Like myself,” I brush my hair away from my face and the wig falls off completely. “Oh-” I gasp.

“Here.” Octavian takes off his slick, black wig and sets it on my head. “You can use mine until I find you a better one.”

I giggle happily and grin up at him. I touch the VIII on the side of his head, then smooth my fingertips down to his lips. “What really happened?” I place my coffee aside as I pull him back down into bed with me.

“Don’t ask me that as you’re wrapping your legs around me,” he groans. “I will not share gory details as I make love to you.”

“Tell me,” I whisper softly. “The last thing I really remember is Dr. Maren pounding on the door.”

Octavian scoffs, nuzzling his face into the curve of my neck. “I’m not going to tell you. You can already see what damage was done and what has healed.”

“What’d you do to her, Activia?” I sigh.

Octavian pushes me back and sits up. “How dare you? How very dare you? You named me and then you torment me!”

“You laugh at your own awful jokes. I think I am allowed to tease you a little!” I grin up at him and rub my foot up his chest.

Octavian pouts, jutting out his bottom lip as he looks down at me. “I have missed you so much. Even the annoying things.” He grabs my ankle and kisses it. His lips trail down my leg until his cheek is nestled against my belly. “Did you dream of me even a little?”

I reach down, rubbing my fingers along the back of his head. I feel the ports there, and he shivers as I graze them. “I think I did. I saw VIII there, always protecting me. You were weird, strange, you were trying to hide things from me. I suppose that was your way of protecting me too.”

Octavian lifts up my shirt, kissing my belly and then crawling up under my shirt. “I missed this warmth,” he moans against my skin. 

I lock my legs around his waist again. “Now tell me, what happened?”

Octavian grumbles irritably. “The Numbers and I did what we had to do. Dr. Maren wanted us. Well, she got us.” He bites down on my nipple and I let out a pleasured cry. His hand kneads at my other breast while he busies himself with my nipple in his mouth. 

“Octavian,” I moan, dragging my hands down his back. “I’m too sensitive. What have you done?”

“I changed none of that,” he grins as he rises up from under my shirt. “That is still very much the original you.” He tucks my shirt under my chin and runs his hands down my body. “That vile bitch tried to destroy you, but I brought you back. I gave you everything just like you gave it to me.” His fingers slide down between my legs, rubbing my vulva until I start to squirm. The latex of his gloves becomes slippery and he eases his fingers inside of me. 

“You did something,” I mewl. “Oh, god-” My voice cracks and strains as he moves his fingers inside me. “It feels too fucking good.”

“You just missed me, is all,” Octavian chuckles darkly. His fingers curl, pressing against the sensitive spot inside. I cry out loud, squirting on his palm as sparks shoot up my spine. 

“You really missed me,” he cackles. He shows off the mess on his fingers and glove. The sticky white cream strings between his fingers and smears down his palm. “But then again, you were also this responsive the first time we made love.” He removes his lab coat and kicks off his high heels. He’s wearing stockings and garters, which makes me even more excited.

“You could have left the heels on,” I giggle. 

“I only like to wear those in bed when you’re on top, my love.” He spreads open my legs as he lays his body on top of mine. 

I feel his shaft slip against my folds and after some heavy petting and long kisses, he’s inside me once again. I remember this sensation, this calm and rapture. I claw down his back as he moves within me. His thin frame is heavy, and I enjoy the weight of him as he sinks into me. When it feels as though I may lose control, he releases me.

I fall into the bed, feeling calm and sated. Luckily Octavian can recover quickly and before I can even catch my breath, his head is between my legs, cleaning up the mess he left behind. I love the spasms that wrack my body, the sharp, sudden convulsions that reignite my blood.

“Stop making a mess,” Octavian fusses. “You just keep getting wetter and wetter.”

“You keep touching me,” I giggle. I look at him as he lays back down beside me and wraps his arms around me. We rest in the quiet of the chilled morning for a long while. When I reach for my coffee, it is cold, but when Octavian holds it, the cup steams again.

“It snowed last night,” he tells me. “The world outside is white.”

“So it’s winter?” I ask.

“Oh no, it’s the middle of summer. The world has just gotten so fucked up since you were last in it.” Octavian throws his head back, guffawing at his own horrible attempt at humor. 

“You’re such a dork, Activia.” I sigh, shaking my head.

He snatches my coffee away from me before I can take a sip. “But?”

I smile at him. “But I love you anyway.”

“That’s better.” He hands me back my coffee, kissing me lovingly. “Never go away again,” he whispers.

I take a sip of my coffee. “You won’t let me.” I cup my warmed palm around his cheek. “You’re my miracle, you know that?”

Octavian kisses my palm. “You’re mine.”