A WEEK LATER
Father didn't let Jacob out of the house. Jacob wasn't allowed to go to school, and Mother's only job was to cook him food.
Father had confiscated all of their electronics to prevent them from calling the police.
He allowed Mother to go out to avoid suspicion, but he had threatened her that if she told anyone, he would kill Jacob.
---
LATER THAT NIGHT
Father slammed the bottle down on the table, burping loudly.
"Where the fuck is my sandwich, bitch?!"
Mother flinched. "I-It's here..."
She walked over and set the plate down with three sandwiches.
Father looked at her with lust, then laughed. "Does it taste good?"
Mother nodded.
"Get me another bottle."
Mother walked away to get a bottle from the fridge, but as she turned around, Father smacked her butt.
She sighed, realizing she couldn't do anything.
He chuckled. "How many condoms do we have left?"
She sighed, turning around with the bottle in her hand. "Honey, we've done it three times today—"
The empty glass bottle was hurled toward her, narrowly missing her head.
He clenched his fist. "What the fuck did you say?"
Mother shook her head frantically and set the bottle down.
Father pulled her down forcefully beside him. He lifted her shirt off. She wanted to fight back, but there was no point anymore.
"Stop!"
Jacob had kept his mouth shut this whole time out of fear, but he couldn't hold himself back after witnessing what was happening.
"Go back to your room, Jacob. Me and Dad are gonna have a conversation..." Mother spoke to him in a sweet tone.
"No, Mom! I'm not seven. I know what you're gonna do to her! You're gonna rape her!"
"Watch your mouth!" Father scolded.
"Fuck you!"
Father got up and walked toward him. "Say that again."
Jacob let out a bitter chuckle, staring straight into his eyes. "You're suffering from your own mistakes, so you take it out on Mom to make yourself feel good! You're pathetic, Dad — God, it feels wrong to call you my dad anymore. You're a pathetic piece of shit!"
Jacob stepped closer. "So I'll say it again. Fuck. You!"
Father was furious. Those words hit him like a truck. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and weak.
Father took his belt off. "Now you will suffer from your own mistakes..."
He whipped Jacob with the belt. Jacob fell to the ground, screaming in pain as each lash felt more painful than the last.
Mother rushed over, grabbing Father's hand. "Stop! Stop it, please! Not him, please!"
"Get the fuck off me!"
Father pushed her hard and continued to brutally whip Jacob.
"Just do it to me!" Mother pleaded.
Then Father suddenly stopped. For some reason, those words made him feel something other than rage. The feeling was unexplainable, but it made him stop.
"Jacob, go back to your room."
"No! I won't let you do anything to Mom!"
"I'm not gonna do shit to her!" He panted. "Just go back, alright?! I'm not gonna do anything! Now go back or I'll use my fist this time!"
Jacob slowly walked back to his room.
Father sat back on the couch and continued watching TV.
Jacob panted heavily in his room. Not one second passed without him feeling scared. He wasn't brave — he was forcing himself to be.
---
Days went by. Jacob had already forgotten what the outside world looked like. Each day the abuse got worse.
And each day Jacob slowly grew further from feeling any emotions. Every day it felt like he was supposed to go through this. He didn't feel any emotion other than physical pain.
He could feel his own soul slowly losing its motivation and will to live.
But there was one thought he could never get rid of. The thought of John. It was the only thing that made him feel any emotion.
But Jacob didn't feel sad. He felt angry. John was the sole reason why all of this had happened in the first place.
Jacob had figured that maybe if John was here again, this family would go back to normal. But Jacob would still hate him for the things he had caused from his own stubbornness.
However, the harsh truth was that retrieving John from the government was nearly impossible. All Jacob could do was drown his mind in reading books all day long.
---
John stared at the ceiling of the empty chamber, wondering what his family was doing right now.
Then he saw Rouge and let out a long sigh.
"You don't have to knock me out anymore. It's not like I can do anything. I'll be cooperative."
Rouge chuckled. "Don't worry, we believe you. We know that you know there's absolutely zero chance you're getting out of here."
Rouge pressed the button and white gas hissed as it filled the chamber. "But we still have to take precautions."
A scientist walked in with a syringe and took a sample of John's blood.
Rouge smiled. "Now the real experiment begins."
After a few hours, the results from John's blood test came in.
"His blood is far more different than any living being's blood, sir. There are no cells in his blood that resemble that of a human."
Rouge was surprised. "No cells?"
"There is only one type of cell in his blood, but nothing like we've ever seen before. It's this cell that appears to be pulsating. We theorize that this is the cell that gives Monarch his supernatural abilities."
Rouge nodded. "And have you been able to extract these cells?"
"Yes, sir. We just do not know how to work around it."
Rouge smiled faintly. "How strong is Monarch?"
The scientist pulled out a clipboard. "His heat resistance is 50,000 degrees—"
"I know about that. I'm asking for an estimate of his strength and power."
"Oh," the scientist cleared their throat. "Well, to put it clearly, Monarch can likely overpower an entire nation."
"Amazing." Rouge slowly clapped his hands. "But of course, Monarch cannot know about this. If he knew, he would've gotten out of here already."
The scientist nodded.
Rouge chuckled under his breath. "The world will be mine..."