Chapter 12 - The Architect of Agony
The visiting room of the federal penitentiary was a cold, sterile box entirely devoid of color or warmth.
Elara sat completely still in the uncomfortable metal chair, her hands still wrapped tightly in the dark leather gloves.
On the other side of the thick, bulletproof glass, Arthur Vance looked like a hollow, defeated ghost of the billionaire he once was.
His orange jumpsuit hung loosely over his frail frame, and his broken arm was still strapped tightly in a clinical white sling.
He picked up the heavy black telephone receiver, a cruel, mocking smile playing on his chapped lips as he looked at her.
I did not expect a visit so soon, my sweet daughter, unless you have finally come to thank me.
Elara picked up her end of the receiver, her knuckles turning white beneath the thick leather of her gloves.
What exactly did you put into my blood, Arthur.
The mocking smile instantly vanished from Arthur’s face, replaced by a dark, chilling look of pure vindication.
So, the chemical dam has finally broken, and you are starting to see what you really are.
He leaned closer to the glass, his eyes wide with a terrifying mixture of awe and absolute dread.
I did not invent that purple poison to steal your inheritance, Elara, that was just a convenient side effect.
I paralyzed you because your biological father, my brilliant business partner, used his own unborn child for his genetic experiments.
Elara felt the air vanish from her lungs, the cold, sterile walls of the prison suddenly spinning around her.
He wanted to create a human being capable of manipulating matter at the molecular level, a weapon that could dissolve anything it touched.
When he realized the horrific power of the mutation he had created, he tried to shut down the entire operation.
So you murdered him, stole the company, and locked me in a wheelchair to keep the power dormant.
Arthur let out a harsh, bitter laugh that echoed horribly through the tiny speaker of the telephone.
I kept you paralyzed to protect the world from you, Elara, because that power does not just destroy matter.
It feeds on your soul, and the more you use it, the faster it will consume your humanity until there is nothing left but ash.
Before Elara could respond, a sudden, blinding purple light flared violently beneath the leather of her right glove.
The thick bulletproof glass separating them instantly cracked, a spiderweb of deep, terrifying fractures spreading from where her hand rested.
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Arthur threw himself backward out of his chair, screaming for the guards as he scrambled across the floor in pure terror.
Elara dropped the phone and ran out of the prison, knowing with absolute certainty that she was running out of time.
