Chapter Text
She walked the hallways like a shadow. The afternoon bell had rung, and there was only one class left before she could retreat to her dorm room.
Rosemary Winters, sixteen years old and already tired of it, wore her cap low and clutched her book a little too tightly as she moved with the current of students.
Some laughed, some texted, others shoved each other into lockers. Another normal high school afternoon.
Well except, of course, for the men in black suits parked across the street. Always watching. Always recording. Sometimes even writing things down.
By now, Rose had stopped noticing them—or at least she pretended to. But ever since she'd been folded into Chris's operation, their presence had intensified.
More eyes, more notes, and more shadows trailing her.
To say It was annoying wouldn't begin to cover it.
On training days, she had to ride with them. On more so, or less regular days, they sometimes drove her across town to see her mother.
But those visits felt shorter each time, the silences longer. Mia was growing distant—more distant than usual—and Rose had no idea if that was her fault, or just the way things were going.
"fHuuu…"
She let out a long, heavy sigh.
But a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth anyway, an instinct, like muscle memory. She could still hold on to the idea of him.
Sometimes she swore she saw her father at the corner of her eye, watching over her. Other times he wasn't there at all. Or maybe she only wanted to believe it.
"Always tell the doctors," Chris would say. "Unless, of course, it brings you trouble."
A joke, or at least his version of one. She could still picture the grin on his aging, gruff face. For an old man, the soldier in him never wavered. His training regimens were borderline insane—half the time she wondered if they just were mere punishments.
Although she didn't endure it all alone. Every now and then, Sgt. Muller and Agent Birkin offered her guidance, little tips and bits of advice—though even with them, she couldn't shake a strange, uneasy feeling.
"The next time you run into a biohazard, you might not have your powers," Sherry's voice echoed in her head. "So always be ready."
She groaned just thinking about it. How did Mom and Dad survived their first time around thend? Dumb luck?
But no matter how many questions she asked herself, no answers ever came. Sometimes she got so lost in thought that—
"Hmph, Weirdo."
A boy muttered it as she passed the classroom door. She didn't look at him. The bullying had mostly faded, replaced by high-school politics and the usual teenage melodrama. Nobody cared about her much anymore. Mostly, they stayed away—everyone had their own problems to deal with.
Another sigh slipped out of her. Lately she'd been seeing someone else—another strange figure besides the flicker of her father. The Blue Umbrella doctors gave her medication, of course, and it worked… but never solved the problem.
As far as she could tell, the presence wasn't malicious like Miranda. But it was creeping closer all the same.
Even in her dreams, it was there. She could never fight it off with her powers, not completely.
It always shrugged them aside, sometimes even pushing them back at her. It never hurt her, but it always drew nearer, step by step, night after night.
What are you? She'd wondered,
And she was only half-listening as her math teacher droned at the board when her phone buzzed against the desk.
A glance down revealed it to be Lucy.
And Rose blinked. Lucy?
Of all people. One of the rare classmates who'd trailed her from Kinder-garden to high school—more a ghost of the past than a friend. Rose remembered her well enough: the cruel pranks, the whispers in the hallway, the laughter that seemed to echo louder than anything else.
And now… Lucy was messaging her? In the middle of class?
"Please put your phone away, Winters."
Her head jerked up. The teacher's voice cut across the room, sharp as chalk on slate. A dozen pairs of eyes swivelled toward her, some curious, some amused.
"Sorry, ma'am." Rose slipped the phone back into her pocket and forced herself to face the board.
Despite the faint heat in her cheeks, her phone chimed again. Rose flicked her eyes toward the back—Lucy was already looking at her, giving a nervous little wave like she was half-afraid to be caught.
Rose ducked her head and slid the phone open as quick as she could.
"I'm sorry, we need to talk. I didn't mean what I said last week." 456
Last week? She frowned. Her chat log was empty up until today, and the number… unrecognizable.
"What are you talking about?" she typed back in a hurry.
The reply came so fast it might've already been waiting.
"Just meet me at student parking, okay? We can talk things over… like sisters…"
Sisters? Rose's face twisted in sheer confusion—half disgust, half bafflement. Enough that the teacher caught it.
"Winters," the teacher snapped.
Rose nearly dropped the phone. "Sorry, ma'am." She said, as she stuffed it away.
The teacher's sigh was long and theatrical. "Since you've been paying such close attention, why don't you finish this problem for us?" She tapped the half-completed equation glowing on the smartboard.
Rose stared. Numbers swam. Her throat felt dry.
"I… I don't know."
"You don't know," the teacher repeated, unimpressed.
"I don't… know." Rose shrank under the weight of the classroom's collective boredom.
"Does anyone?" the teacher asked, scanning the room.
Catherine's hand shot up—Catherine with the perfect posture and smug little smirk. A girl Rose had been shadowed by all her life. The one who'd cut Lucy off back in middle school.
"Yes, Catherine?" the teacher said, clearly relieved.
"It's a quadratic," Catherine said, smooth as silk. "You'd isolate the variable by factoring," She rattled off the steps, her voice confident, almost rehearsed. "Which gives you x = 2 or x = –3."
"Correct." The teacher tapped the board and the answer popped up, matching Catherine's perfectly. "See? Not so difficult if you'd care, to pay, attention."
She dragged every syllable.
A few chuckles drifted through the room. Rose stared at her desk, face warm again, and not the good kind.
Classroom embarrassment had a way of feeling like the end of the world, but she also knew it wasn't. Not really. By tomorrow no one would remember, except maybe Catherine, who'd collected her little victories like medals.
Still, Rose let out a breath and sank lower in her seat. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket.
Sisters? Last week? The words pressed at her thoughts.
What the fuck is Lucy talking about?
The bell finally shrilled, loud enough to scatter the tension. Desks screeched back, bags rustled, and chatter filled the air like nothing had happened. Rose moved a little slower, clutching her phone, mind stuck on the message.
Lucy meanwhile, had quickly manoeuvred out of class, silently beckoning Rose to follow. But Rose didn't move, not yet.
She double-checked her message logs, and there indeed almost empty. She'd never actually spoken to Lucy before.
Did I get hacked? she wondered. But by who… and why? She kept mostly to herself. Nothing about her routine made sense for someone to target her.
Unless they were after me for my powers, but by now most the school had considered her more lame freakshow then potential threat, and Blue umbrella protected her from any other malicious organizations seeking to exploit her.
So this is a personal attack? She wondered, but the question remained: why?
She ignored Catherine's smug little smile as she walked out the classroom––heading towards her locker.
It was after school now and she didn't feel like hauling all her books back to the dorm.
And as she stacked them in her locker, something fluttered to the floor. A folded note in pink and green.
She picked it up and it read:
"Don't worry, I'll take care of all the bullies for you :)"
"I'm… sorry, what?" she muttered, though no one was listening. It was in her handwriting—or at least it looked exactly like hers—but she had no memory of writing it.
Is Miranda messing with me again?
No. Miranda is gone. The most recent Blue Umbrella tests had confirmed it: Rose had full control of her conscious and unconscious mind.
Right?
So What the hell is going on? She wondered. She'd be back under the scanners if she didn't find out—another month of tests, and endless questions.
She folded the note and slid it into her pocket, and then walked out to the student parking lot where Lucy had been waiting.
She looked to her suddenly, unnerved in a way that made Rose step back. Her excitement when she spotted her had an edge to it, like a trapped animal suddenly offered an exit.
"Hey." Lucy's voice came out too quick.
"Hi." Rose said awkwardly.
"You okay?" Lucy asked.
"Yeah." Rose answered, with a forced smile. "I'm…good."
"That's great…really…" Lucy said, but it didn't land as relief so much as insistence. An awkward silence stretched between them. Rose didn't know whether to walk away, laugh it off, or call one of the men in suits and tell them to collect this girl.
"So anyway…why did you call me here?" she asked finally.
Lucy fumbled for words. "I—uh—said some things that were…uhm, uncalled for. We're—" She broke off and blinked, the motion desperate. "You know, we're friends and all—"
Rose felt a cringe spread across her face, but she let Lucy ramble.
"Like you said…sisters—" Lucy's voice cracked on the last word, but Rose cut in, sharp.
"I never said that."
"Oh." Lucy looked genuinely surprised, "Is this because of…" She shook her head and tried again. "I just… I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry." She took a hesitant step forward, and Rose recoiled without thinking.
"I just…" Lucy let out a heavy breath, "I'll do whatever you want just…please…let me see her again?"
Rose lifted an eyebrow, it felt like she was almost pleading.
"See who?"
"My mother." Lucy's said desperately, "You showed her to me, remember?"
"What?" Rose said, incredulous.
"I'm in… a really bad place, right now, and…I could really use…her help y'know…like last time."
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Rose replied flatly.
"Rose, please. I'm begging you." Lucy's hands clamped down on her shoulders now, fingers trembling. "I'll do anything you want, anything? Slash Jim's tires again? Sure, I'll drop out even, I'll do anything, just please…let me see her again."
She stopped, breathless, waiting. Rosemary could only stare at her, baffled, unsure what she was supposed to do.
"Okay," Rose said, trying to sound calm, though Lucy's eagerness made her stomach twist. "I genuinely…have no idea what you're talking about."
The light of hope in Lucy's eyes dimmed, replaced almost immediately by despair.
"I think you need—"
"WHY!?" Lucy snapped, her voice sharper than Rose expected to be, jarring her in place.
"I did everything you said! I risked everything, I…" Lucy's words trembled, breaking under the weight of frustration and fear. "You promised me."
"Let me go," Rose said softly, but her tone was edged with warning. Her face made it clear: I don't want to hurt you… but I will.
Suddenly, the note in her pocket felt heavier than ever. She swore she could hear a giggle.
Something was…wrong. Very wrong.
Before Rose could respond, Lucy's knees buckled. She stumbled forward, collapsing into Rose's arms with a soft, strangled gasp.
"Please… don't…don't turn me into a monster." Lucy whispered, barely audible.
Rose froze, heart hammering. Turn you into…a monster?
Then tires crunched on the asphalt. The low rumble of engines drew closer. Around the corner, two black SUVs slid into the lot with precision, doors snapping open. Men in black suits stepped out, crisp and silent, their eyes immediately locking on Rose and Lucy.
"Winters," one of the men said, calm yet commanding. "What's going on here? What did you do?"
Rose blinked, still holding Lucy, completely lost. "I didn't do anything she just…fell…"
"We've had eyes on her since she came into contact with you," The man in black said, "she was fine until then, so I'll ask again, what did you do?"
"Nothing." Rose emphasized, But Lucy's head lolled against her shoulder, she was whispering something, "mo…mo…mo…"
"Step back, Winters." The men in black said, motioning toward Lucy gently. "We'll take it from here."
Rose released her, and the agents carried Lucy toward the SUVs. Although she didn't move and was unconscious, Rose swore she saw one last motion, a look towards her—an expression full of fear, longing, and something else she couldn't name.
The engines roared to life. The vehicles disappeared around the corner, leaving only the quiet hum of the empty parking lot behind.
Rose exhaled slowly, letting the tension drain from her shoulders. She didn't understand any of it—not Lucy, not the cryptic letter, and not even her own reactions—but the path forward was clear.
She turned toward the dorm, shoulders squared. Pushing whatever had just happened to back of her mind.
The orange sunlight spilled across the dorm room, painting everything in serene gold—but what Rose had just experienced was anything but peaceful. Lucy had panicked, whispering things Rose didn't understand. Now, she locked the door behind her and sank into her chair, watching the sun slip closer to the horizon.
It was an odd evening, one she didn't know how to make sense of. She took a slow sip of soda and booted up her laptop, planning to binge and sleep away the chaos.
And as she bent over to take off her shoes, a movement at the edge of her vision froze her: a pair of black fishing boots crossed the floor.
"What…?" she whispered, reaching for them—but the boots dissolved into nothing. Then, impossibly, the shadows bled together, reforming on her bed.
A girl her age sat there, long hair falling over one eye, wearing a black dress. Her wicked grin stretched impossibly, and her green eyes burned with an intensity Rose couldn't look away from.
"Hello… sister," the girl giggled, voice lilting and cruel.
"Who the hell are you?" Rose demanded, pushing her chair back, forcing her tone to stay steady.
"Don't recognize me?" The girl tilted her head, laughter bubbling in her throat. In a blink, her form shifted—shrinking and warping—until she stood before Rose as a child again.
Rose froze for a heartbeat, recognition flickering. "You… you're that angry little girl…"
"Eveline!" the child shouted, leaping off the bed. Her voice cracked and reverberated not just in the room, but inside Rose's skull.
"My name… is Eveline."
Rose flinched, scanning the walls as Eveline flickered out of sight. Shadows twisted in the corners, her presence flitting from place to place like a wasp circling prey.
"How the hell did you get inside my head?" Rose demanded, pulse racing. "How are you even still here?"
"It was tricky," Eveline whispered, her voice darting from corner to corner as she flickered in and out of sight, giggling like a child at play. "But I dug my way down to the root of your consciousness…"
She materialized before Rose in an instant, eye gleaming. "You've got a lot to learn."
Rose squared her shoulders, "What do you want?" she demanded, reaching out—but Eveline dissolved into smoke, her laugh trailing behind her.
"What do I want?" Eveline echoed, reappearing on the desk, then the chair, then hovering just out of reach. "Hmmmmm… what do I want?"
"Stop messing with me," Rose snapped, whipping her head around, searching every corner. "I'm not playing."
"Oh, but you are," Eveline sing-songed, suddenly behind her. "And it's my game now."
"Shut up!" Rose shouted—then jolted as Eveline surged forward with nightmare speed. A small, pale hand clamped onto her wrist—impossibly strong, crushing.
"It's simple," Eveline hissed, yanking Rose down to her knees. Her grin widened as she tapped a finger against Rose's skull. "I. Want. Out."
The words echoed through Rose's bones. Eveline giggled, then dissipated in a ripple of shadow, leaving Rose clutching her aching wrist.
"Out?" Rose whispered, "that's impossi––"
"Impossible, I know…" Eveline's disembodied voice groaned from everywhere and nowhere at once. "I kinda have your smarts too, y'know. I am you, and you are… well—maybe we can share. We are sisters, after all…"
"You're no sister of mine," Rose spat, heat in her voice.
"Yes, I am!" Eveline shrieked, and the sound alone knocked Rose flat against the floor. A shadow thickened and took shape before her—long hair dragging the ground, one eye blazing green, smile venomous and wide.
"I came first," Eveline whispered, leaning down until her chill was in Rose's skin. "It's not fair. You get to live, and I get to die. I'm your big sister."
"You're not my sister," Rose shot back, but the words felt small in the presence of her evil resident.
Eveline pressed her hand against Rose's chest—and the world spun. Rose's perspective slipped like water, suddenly staring down at herself.
Or rather, at a version of herself she didn't recognize: Sharper and taller. Her own face twisted by Eveline's cruel delight, still sixteen but eyes burning with something inhuman.
"It's my turn to play," Eveline said.
Rose's stomach dropped. "Wait—what are you doing?" Panic clawed up her throat.
"Good night…" Eveline sang softly, mockery dripping from every note.
"No! Stop! You—"
Her words froze. Eveline only laughed, and with a snap of her fingers, Rose's world collapsed into black.