Third Person POV

“Love is patient and kind.” The calm, tender voice of a mother soothes one’s weary heart. Love is indeed kind. It is a warm, generous ray of light that inspires and oftentimes brings hope and wonder. Love heals. It nourishes the decadence of a soul so that it finds the will to live again.

-

Inside the comfort of their home, lies a little girl and her mother. A small lamp illuminates the room as they both read the little girl’s favorite bedtime story. Slowly, she teeters the line of slumber, content in the warmth that her mother provides. It is something she likes, especially on cold autumn nights.

“It sure is getting windy now.” Her mother comments on the sudden gust of wind. She quietly gets up to close the windows but a smaller hand tugs on the cuff of her clothes.

“Mama, please don’t leave me.” A sleepy voice of a child replies. “I am not going anywhere, darling. I am just closing the windows. You go tuck yourself back to bed. It is getting colder now.” Her mother chuckles fondly. The child yawns and lays back in bed.

“Mama, are humans evil?” The child innocently asks ー a question asked by her countless times. A sigh escapes from her mother’s chest. “Ximzoi, we have always lived here in peace. They have not come to bother us. We have safely coexisted with them in their land for so long, and that is enough to say that they are kind enough for letting us be. Let us not wish for any war.” Ximzoi’s mother explains as she lays beside her.

“But, mama, I heard someone tell the other children that they are after us. What does that mean? Are we hiding from them?” Ximzoi continues to inquire, the curiosity of a child never falters, even in the dead of the night.

“Go to bed, Ximzoi. It is bad for a child to be up so late.” Her mother only gives her a gentle smile as they return back to bed. Ximzoi reluctantly obeys, letting the question linger in her mind.

There is a common rule that is shared between the adults of the humble settlement of Ximzoi’s kind: that is to never reveal the truth to the children, not until they have come of age. The peaceful village that Ximzoi lives in, is a sanctuary that is meticulously built and fiercely protected by her elders.

She lives in blissful ignorance. All she knows is that she is safe as long as she does not leave, and that humans exist.

-

That night, the moon showed its full face, behind the swaying clouds that danced with the winds. The village folk had settled down and the guardians of the settlement began their nightly routine of ensuring the safety of their kind. Spells and sigils were cast as a veil to make sure they are well hidden from the dangers of the world around them.

Unbeknownst to them, they are not safe anymore. Like a pair of glowing eyes in the shrubs, the predator stays still, calculated and unrelenting, waiting for the right time to pounce.

A few hundred meters away was a military camp that is packed with armored tanks, military men and scientists. They have been on the move in search for a humanoid species they have lost contact with ages ago.

“This is S-505. [Redacted] located 500 meters north. Awaiting further command from base. Over.” A soldier watching the village began to communicate over the military radio. “This is B-101. Assemble the troops. Proceed with caution. Make sure to catch as many as you can. Over.”

-

Ximzoi shifted in her sleep, feeling the absence of her mother beside her. She sleepily called out to her, expecting her to cradle and hush her. But it never came. She woke up to the scent of smoke, an ominous sign of danger. “Mama? Papa?” She called out to her parents – only to realize that there are only anguish, pain, fire, and strangers invading what she once knew as her home.

And so, she ran and ran, until she found a trace of them. Until she found anyone she knew – her friends, her elders… yet all she saw were orange flames engulfing her village. All she heard were screams of her kind and voices she cannot recognize.

“Over there! It’s a [redacted]. Bring the chemicals! Do not let it escape!” Ximzoi heard a voice, then footsteps running towards her. In an attempt to defend herself, she used her horns to summon nearby rubble and directed it back to her captors. It was enough to deter them for a while, as some soldiers were injured.

“This is S-506. [Redacted]’s area successfully infiltrated. Requesting backup for military casualties from base! I repeat, requesting backup!”

“This is S-508. There has been no [Redacted] survivor. Heading back to base now. Over.”

“This is S-509. S-508 head to 16:00 south. There is one, young survivor. We need the chemicals to neutralize it! Over!”

The rest of the night was a blur of smoke, bloodshed and orange flames. Ximzoi was still running, her feet tired and bleeding, her skin scarred by the fire, her senses overwhelmed, her mind afraid, and her heart desperate. She had never felt so alone – the cold autumn night suddenly turned scorching hot. The wind hurts her frail body as she continues to run; but a terrifying sight stops her in her tracks.

It was the bodies of her dead parents, a mixture of chemicals and blood pooling around their lifeless frames.

Yet, just as she was about to reach for them – to touch and hold them one last time and mourn their death, a needle pricked the back of her neck, immobilizing her.

At that moment, Ximzoi’s colorful world went black.

“This is S-509. [Redacted]’s last survivor has been captured and neutralized. Requesting for backup to rescue the injured soldiers. [Redacted] has reacted negatively during the crossfire. S-506 has been wiped out. Over.”

-

[TRIGGER WARNING: TORTURE, BODY MUTILATION, ABUSE]

Love can be cruel and remorseless. That much is what Ximzoi had realized in the absence of her parents – her home once beloved and now in ashes. She now stands in the threshold of a new world – a world of white walls, masked men, isolated rooms, and chains that restrain her.

Ximzoi felt cold. The fluorescent lights in her ward loomed over her as if she was a spectacle of a circus. Masked scientists stood in front of the glass window outside, observing her as she starts to regain consciousness.

“How is the specimen reacting to the administered chemical?” A gravelly voice echoed in the hollow chambers of the laboratory. At that instance, Ximzoi flinched, unsure about what fate has in store for her.

“[Redacted]’s limbs are starting to swell. Perhaps we can attempt another shot so we can successfully revamp her anatomy.” Another voice of a scientist replied.

“Dr. [Redacted], we have received 5 patients with severe conditions, just as you asked. Should we start the session?” Ximzoi hears another female voice. She becomes agitated, blindly searching for the source of the commotion. She does not understand the voices. Ximzoi felt fear.

“Wait. It’s moving. Enter the room and inject that thing on her, the one that makes the other specimen tame.” The gravelly voice commanded.

“Ah, yes, this [redacted] chemical. I believe this specimen may not react well since they have psychic- “ “Inject it anyway, I want to see if it can heal itself.”

Three masked people in white lab coats entered Ximzoi’s ward. Out of fear, she let out a high-pitched screech, a defense mechanism taught by her mother in case she is confronted by danger. However, because of her fragile state, it was not strong enough to hurt the scientists inside. Carefully, they walked towards the chained [redacted], one was holding an injection vial with greyish liquid in it, and the other two preparing to restrain her.

“Be a good girl now…” One of them whispered. Ximzoi thrashed in her place, frail body desperate to be freed. The scientists restraining her dragged her body to force her to sit still. Then suddenly, Ximzoi felt a sharp pain spreading from her right arm through her body.

Another screech.

The masked people covered their ears for a moment, and Ximzoi convulsed in pain and in fear. Yet, instinctively, her hands glowed vibrant red. Her veins lit up, running through her reddish arms. The scientist noticed that the injection bruise started to heal itself.

“Mama…” Ximzoi called out, but all they can hear was a weakened unintelligible noise.

“Get the equipment ready. We might as well start the operation while it can still heal its wounds.” Agony.

To say it was agonizing was an understatement. Ximzoi’s screams and cries echoed through the isolated ward of the laboratory. The mission to find Ximzoi’s kind was to seek their cooperation in aiding the

advancement of medicinal technology of humankind. One can say it is a benevolent goal – an act of love, but eventually the human instinct to conquer grows to become an obsessive desire – to consume, to search for more, and to become superior.

Days turned into weeks, into months, and into years. Ximzoi’s psychic ability to heal has been abused to medicate patients with severe illnesses. Starved, dehydrated, mutilated, and stripped of her dignity as a [redacted], she now lives as a shell of who she used to be. To the scientists, she is nothing but a test subject. Her hands have grown bigger than her face. Her skin is laced with surgical scars. Her body has become so thin that her bones are protruding. She suffered for so long to the point that she cannot find the voice to ask for help – to seek home. One can tell that she has aged – that she is no longer a child, but a prisoner in the name of science.

Her weakness has numbed her to the point that she has become unaware of her own existence. And throughout all this, Ximzoi felt worthless.