Zev woke up screaming.
The sound tore out of his chest before he even understood where he was.
Cold metal bit into his wrists and ankles. His back slammed against a steel chair bolted to the floor. Shackles—reinforced, humming faintly—cut into his skin every time he struggled.
White light burned his eyes.
No walls.
Just a room.
Bare concrete. Drains in the floor. Hooks along the far wall.
And two figures kneeling across from him.
The siblings.
The boy looked up first.
Blood matted his hair. One eye was already swelling shut. His hands shook as he tried—failed—to stand between Zev and the girl.
Zev's breath hitched.
"No—no, no, no…"
The girl clutched the boy's sleeve with both hands. She was smaller up close. Too small. Her lip trembled, but she didn't cry. Not yet.
Zev pulled against the restraints so hard his shoulders screamed.
"HEY!" he roared. "HEY—TAKE ME INSTEAD! I'M RIGHT HERE!"
Laughter echoed from the dark behind the lights.
Measured. Calm.
Practiced.
A figure stepped forward.
Black coat. Pale mask. A single vertical red slit where a face should be.
"Subject displays elevated emotional response," the figure said flatly. "Proceed."
Zev snarled.
"STOP."
The figure ignored him.
A baton came down on the boy's ribs.
The sound—
—wet, hollow—
—never left Zev's ears.
The boy collapsed with a sharp cry, curling instinctively. The girl screamed then—high, broken, desperate.
Zev thrashed.
"PLEASE! PLEASE—DON'T TOUCH THEM! THEY'RE JUST KIDS!"
Another strike.
Then another.
Zev felt something tear inside his chest.
"HEY!, WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES?!" he shouted desperately. "PLEASE—JUST TELL ME YOUR NAMES!"
The boy coughed, blood flecking his lips.
"…Eli," he gasped.
The girl sobbed.
"M-Mara…"
Zev repeated them like a prayer.
"Eli. Mara. I've got you. I swear—I swear I won't let them—"
The baton came down again.
Zev screamed until his throat tore raw.
The masked figures didn't rush.
They took turns.
Every strike was measured. Controlled. Observed.
A voice murmured from somewhere above.
"Haha, stupid kids, who do they think they are? Glad we took em, or else boss is gonna get mad at us, still, i'm glad we took the girl while we can punish the two boys here."
Another voice replied.
"Good. Continue."
Zev's vision blurred.
Voices crept in uninvited.
Not something that has happened in a long time, almost tellinb him to do it.
His own.
Count the breaths.
Count the hits.
Count the seconds between screams.
He lost count.
Eli cried out again—shorter this time. Weaker.
Mara tried to crawl toward Zev.
She didn't make it.
A boot pinned her down.
Zev felt something inside him crack.
"No—NO—DON'T—!"
His muscles burned. His bones felt too small for what was building inside him. His heartbeat thundered, irregular, violent.
"Kid's tough, i'll give him that," the voice observed calmly.
Zev laughed.
It came out wrong.
Broken.
Shattered.
"You think this can break me?" he rasped.
"You think I don't already know what fucking monsters like you look like?"
Another strike.
Eli stopped screaming.
That was worse.
Zev's mind fractured.
Memories bled together—war zones, cages, blood-soaked floors, orders barked through static. Faces he failed. Faces he buried.
Eli.
Mara.
They layered over everything.
His vision went red.
Something pushed back.
Hard.
The shackles screamed as his body surged against them.
The lights flickered.
The masked figures stepped back slightly.
"Damn this Kid is loud, somebody shut him up" one said. "understan, should be ducktape him or slit his throat?."
Zev bared his teeth.
"Tsk" he growled.
He looked at the children—burned their faces into himself.
"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely.
"I'm so sorry…"
The last thing he heard before the sedatives hit was Mara crying her brother's name.
Not screaming.
Calling.
And when the darkness finally swallowed him—
Something inside Zev didn't go with it.
It stayed awake.
Waiting.
Learning how to hate.