The Amnesiac Prey

Rain poured relentlessly through the pitch-black night, drenching the highway outside Boston until it gleamed under the sporadic lightning. From the back seat, I listened to my parents' hushed, urgent voices.

"We have to keep moving. Albert already knows about the experimental data," Mom said, her voice trembling.

"Damn it, I should've destroyed the evidence sooner." Dad's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "If the side effects of Aetherium get out, the entire Winters medical empire will collapse."

I closed my eyes, my heart pounding. After six months on the run—was it finally over?

Then, headlights blared from the side.

"Look out!" Dad yelled, wrenching the wheel.

CRASH.

A truck slammed into us with brutal precision. The shriek of tearing metal, shattering glass, and my own scream filled the air. Our car tumbled off the road, and my world blurred into a haze of blood.

"Elara… run…" Dad's final words burned into my soul. "Winters found us!"

No! Dad! Mom!

The metallic scent of blood filled my nose. I watched the life fade from their eyes. This was no accident—it was murder.

As the car rolled, I was thrown into a corner. A twisted piece of the door panel shielded me. When dark-clad figures approached, I held my breath, forcing myself to go still. Blood trickled down my forehead, blurring my vision—but it also became my disguise.

"The two up front are gone. The kid's gone too," one man grunted, roughly checking my wrist. My pulse was so weak he missed it.

"Hurry. Someone's coming," another voice urged.

They left quickly, leaving behind the wreckage. I waited in the blood and rain, biding my time.

Winters… I will make you pay. I will make you feel what it's like to lose everything you love.

The cold rain washed over my face. My consciousness wavered, but I refused to forget—the coldness in those men's eyes, the smell of blood that night.

I will remember the Winters family.

Through the haze, I heard footsteps splashing through puddles. Someone shouted, "My God—there's been an accident!"

Someone knelt beside me. Hands, skilled and steady, began to stop the bleeding.

"Hey, can you hear me? Stay with me. You're going to be okay." A calm, firm voice reached me. Reassuring.

I forced my eyes open. Through the blood and rain, I saw a handsome face looking down at me. Rain dripped from his dark hair. His eyes were deep, full of concern.

Weakly, I grabbed his blood-stained hand. "Please… save me…"

"Hold on. Help is here." His voice was so certain, I almost believed kindness still existed. He turned and called, "I need a stretcher! She's losing too much blood—BP's dropping!"

Someone answered from nearby: "Copy that, Dr. Winters!"

Dr. Winters?

The name struck me like lightning. It couldn't be…

Sirens wailed. More supplies were handed to him.

"We'll take over from here," another voice said.

"Her condition is unstable. I'm riding with her," said Dr. Winters, his hand still pressed firmly against my wound.

I was lifted onto a stretcher and into the ambulance. Under the harsh interior lights, I saw his face clearly. He'd taken off his wet coat, revealing his scrubs. A name tag read: Dr. J. Winters.

J. Winters. Julian Winters.

The irony was breathtaking. The son of my enemies. The devil who killed my parents had an angel for a son.

But you have no idea who you just saved.

As the ambulance sirens blared, I felt his careful, professional touch—and the fire of revenge burned hotter inside me.

This was where my plan began. Thank you, fate, for delivering me into the lion's den by the enemy's own son.

Dizziness from blood loss pulled me under. My vision dimmed. But before darkness took me, I burned his face and name into my memory:

Julian Winters.

Three days later, I woke in a luxurious VIP room. Sunlight streamed through floor-to-ceiling windows. Everything was peaceful.

Perfect.

Then I saw the two figures standing in the doorway, and my blood ran cold.

Albert Winters and Victoria Winters.

My parents' killers.

So this is Winters Medical Center. Julian brought me right into their fortress.

I wanted to leap up and tear off their masks. Make them pay. But reason held me back. Not yet. I had to wait. To bide my time.

Stay calm, Elara.

"You're awake," Victoria said gracefully, approaching with a perfect charity-case smile. "I'm Victoria Winters. This is my husband, Albert. Julian told us you've lost your memory?"

Look at that face—every expression calculated. She's testing me. Seeing if I really remember nothing.

"I… I don't remember anything before the accident," I let tears roll down my cheeks. "Just a doctor… he said his name was Julian…"

Acting? Easy.

Albert and Victoria exchanged a glance. Some of the tension left his eyes.

"That's our son," he said, his voice sickeningly gentle. "What will you do now? Is there family we can contact?"

Family? You killed my family.

"I… I don't remember anything," I choked out. "I have nowhere to go…"

That much was true.

Just then, Julian walked in. He was still in surgical scrubs. He must have come straight from the OR.

"How is she?" He came straight to my side. That concern stirred something complicated in me.

"You're here!" I grabbed his hand, injecting relief into my voice. "Where am I? Why can't I remember…?"

Julian's brow furrowed. "You're at our family's medical center. You've been unconscious since the accident. The doctors think you may have traumatic amnesia."

"Accident?" I trembled, layering fear and confusion into my voice.

His eyes turned pained. "I'm so sorry to tell you this… Your parents didn't make it. They died at the scene."

My eyes widened. Real tears welled. "No… that can't be…"

How's that for a performance? Too bad these tears are real—for Mom and Dad.

"So I have no home…" I sobbed, voice cracking. "Nothing left…"

Julian watched me, his expression anguished. He gripped my hand. "You can stay with us until you recover."

"Julian, that may not be appropriate—" Victoria started.

"No, Mother." His voice was firm. "I saved her. I'm responsible for her."

Victoria and Albert shared another look. Finally, she offered that fake smile again. "Of course. We'll take good care of her."

I knew exactly why they agreed—to watch me. To make sure I didn't remember anything about Aetherium. Perfect. That was exactly what I wanted.

Weeks later, the doctors cleared me to leave. My physical wounds had healed, but the "amnesia" remained. Victoria came to pick me up herself, wearing that flawless charitable smile.

Look at you. Every move calculated. You think you've contained me. You have no idea.

That night, I was given a room next to Julian's. It was extravagantly decorated—crystal chandeliers, silk curtains, antique furniture. All of it screamed wealth. To me, it only screamed guilt.

I stood by the window, gazing out at my beautiful, dangerous new "home."

Next door, I could hear Julian talking with his parents.

"I don't understand why you're against this," Julian said, voice raised.

"Son, we're only worried she might distract you from your work," Albert said, smooth as always.

Distract you? Oh, I'll do more than distract you.

"She's lost everything. I can't abandon her. I have to protect her."

Protect me? How ironic. You're protecting the girl who's going to destroy your family.

I trailed my fingers along the windowsill, a cold glint in my eyes. Six months on the run. Three days in a coma. And now—here I was. In the heart of the enemy's territory.

Mom, Dad… can you see me? Your daughter has made it inside. They think they've taken in a wounded lamb. They don't realize they've let a wolf through the door.