Twisted Vines
Experiment two hundred and eighty-seven was never meant to have a name. She was grown in a lab and engineered as property. But when a vine curls toward light, it does so by instinct. When two hundred and eighty-seven meets the silent, conflicted guard assigned to watch her-Atlas-something begins to shift. Not just in her... but in him.
In a facility where lives are test groups, and emotions are weaknesses to be exploited, one failed experiment's hunger for freedom becomes contagious. What begins as a quiet rebellion sparks a chain reaction-an uprising of the unwanted, the unstable, and the forgotten.
As Rosa-a name owned by her alone-leads a breakout that fractures the foundation of the facility, she must decide if survival is enough... or if real freedom means burning it all down. As for Atlas, once a tool of control, he must choose who he is when the truth comes to light.
A sci-fi rebellion story where the monsters remember their humanity better than their makers do-and one girl's roots reach far enough to shake the world.
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Chapter: Chapter Nine - RosaSilence returned. Not the comforting kind. The kind that presses against your chest like a stone slab. The kind that makes you feel like you're being buried alive. I stood there, barefoot on the damp ground, staring at the place where they'd just been. My reflection looked back—faint, warped—a girl blurred by condensation. A girl with no name. No rights. No price too high.I turned slowly and walked to the far corner of the enclosure, the soft slap of my steps the only sound. My vines followed me without a word. Even they seemed quieter now. I sat down. Not because I was tired—but because I needed the stillness to think.They had stood right in front of me, men who controlled everything, and discussed me like I was an object. Like I wasn't listening. Like, I couldn't understand.Obedient."Not a person," I whispered to no one. It didn't echo, but I liked the way it sat in the air. Sharp. Final. Mocking. My fists curled against my knees. They didn't care that I spoke. I looked around
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter Eight - AtlasThe narrow corridor stretched ahead, a winding artery of cold steel and flickering fluorescent lights that hummed overhead like a restless ghost. The Boss led the way, his footsteps measured and confident, dress shoes clicking against the polished floor with an almost hypnotic rhythm. Behind him, Collins followed silently, a tablet glowing faintly in his hands, ready to record the details that might turn flesh into profit.They moved past row after row of sealed chambers—each one housing a nameless experiment, silent and still behind reinforced glass. Some were curled in fetal postures, delicate and fragile, like broken dolls. Others stood rigid, taut with tension, muscles twitching involuntarily. Most bore the marks of countless tests—needles embedded in pale skin, patches of synthetic tissue grafted awkwardly across limbs, eyes wide open in vacant stares.The Boss stopped before one chamber, nodding slightly. Inside, a young one sat cross-legged, vines coiling around his wrists like
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter Seven - AtlasI didn't remember reaching into my pocket. It just happened—somewhere between a guard's grunted, "Boss wants you," and the fourth security checkpoint. My fingers slipped past the inner lining of my pants, brushing against something soft. Woven. Fibrous.For a beat, I stopped walking. I pulled my hand halfway out, caught sight of soft green loops peeking between my fingers, and shoved it back down deep. I didn't want to look at it. I didn't want to feel it. Yet, I kept my hand there, thumb running slow circles over grassy knots as I continued down the corridor. The motion was mindless. Automatic. The hallway twisted in familiar turns—past glass enclosures, stationed guards, and surveillance hums. The air smelled like antiseptic and power. The thing in my pocket grounded me in a way I didn't like. It made me remember that two hundred and eighty-seven had reached out. Without words. Without permission. Quiet. Careful. I'd been oblivious. I should have thrown it out for both of our benef
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter Six - RosaBoredom had teeth. It chewed at my thoughts like a rat trapped in the walls, scraping and gnawing at the edges of everything. My vines dragged sluggishly across the floor, idly brushing the glass. The usual fog was slow to cling this time, the humidity dipping lower than normal. I clicked my tongue in annoyance, tapping out a rhythm against the wall. No reflection to tease or trail or toy with. Just stillness.To keep my hands from twitching, I started shredding one of the tall grasses that grew along the wall. It had been a gift, once. The roots curled against the base of the chamber, stubborn and winding. I yanked a few clean blades free and began knotting and weaving mindlessly. Over. Under. Twist. Pull tight. It wasn't much at first. Just something to keep the pacing in my head steady. It started to take a shape—a thin bracelet of green and gold, knotted and looped. I plucked a tiny flower from the corner and pressed it into one of the braids, tucking the stem into place with care
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter Five - RosaBoredom had teeth. It chewed at my thoughts like a rat trapped in the walls, scraping and gnawing at the edges of everything. My vines dragged sluggishly across the floor, idly brushing the glass. The usual fog was slow to cling this time, the humidity dipping lower than normal. I clicked my tongue in annoyance, tapping out a rhythm against the wall. No reflection to tease or trail or toy with. Just stillness.To keep my hands from twitching, I started shredding one of the tall grasses that grew along the wall. It had been a gift, once. The roots curled against the base of the chamber, stubborn and winding. I yanked a few clean blades free and began knotting and weaving mindlessly. Over. Under. Twist. Pull tight. It wasn't much at first. Just something to keep the pacing in my head steady. It started to take a shape—a thin bracelet of green and gold, knotted and looped. I plucked a tiny flower from the corner and pressed it into one of the braids, tucking the stem into place with care
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter Four - AtlasThe lab was too bright. Fluorescent lights burned overhead, casting sharp, sterile beams that made the metal countertops gleam like surgical knives. I stood to the side of the room, posture stiff, arms behind my back—the obedient silhouette. But no matter how still I stood, I couldn't keep my gaze from drifting toward the center table, where it waited. The plant.It pulsed faintly, its bioluminescent glow rising and falling like breath. Thick vines curled along the edges of its containment tray, twitching slightly with every movement the Boss made. Its petals were iridescent—soft, living color that shimmered with each flicker of the overhead lights. A strange, low hum resonated from it, subtle but constant, like it was singing softly to itself. Like it was afraid.The Boss didn't see it that way. He adjusted his gloves with methodical precision, gold rings clinking faintly as he pulled the latex taut over his knuckles. "Experiment four hundred and eighty-two," he announced to no one i
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter NineTeleporting home after a good hex was like stretching out in sun-warmed sheets with a glass of wine and no responsibilities. I landed dead center in my living room, boots hitting the pentagram with a soft thump, still riding the high of victorious chaos. The cottage welcomed me like a satisfied co-conspirator—smelling faintly of dried herbs, lavender, wet dog, and smug satisfaction.The smile on my face could’ve powered a small village.“Oh, that was glorious,” I sighed in a whisper, spinning once on my heel like a tipsy dancer.I still reeked of vinegar and supernatural disobedience. One of the jars had broken in my satchel—oops—but it was worth every drop of rot. The look on Niklaus’ face? Priceless. The faint vampire shrieking in the distance? Music to my ears. I had probably started a fashion crisis. Maybe even a furniture-burning. Perfection.“You smell like war crimes.”A gruff voice came from the couch.I blinked toward the shadows—and there he was, wide awake.Dylan.Sitting
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter EightI should have been sleeping.That was the plan. Sort of. Maybe. If I were the kind of witch who tucked herself in at a responsible hour and let chaos rest for the night.I am absolutely not that witch, and I had errands.By the time the moon had tucked itself behind a few lazy clouds, I was up to my elbows in a crate of foul-smelling jars, humming softly as I evaluated each one like an apothecary judging a wine cellar.“Too runny… too fresh… ah, there you are,” I cooed, pulling a dusty jar from the back of the crate and holding it up to the moonlight.Rotten garlic.Soft, collapsing cloves floating in an amber liquid I wouldn’t dare name aloud. It smelled like a graveyard’s bad breath—and it was perfect.From the couch, I heard a low, groggy voice. “What are you doing?”I didn’t turn. “Sleeping.”A pause. Then, deadpan: “You’re whispering to a jar.”“That’s not just any jar,” I said, tucking it into a canvas satchel already filled with various questionable substances. “That’s year-old
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter SevenThe teleportation spell landed with a satisfying thump against my floorboards, my boots scuffing the worn wood as I stepped into my quiet, sun-drenched cottage.Home.My garden boots were muddy. My cardigan smelled faintly of damp moss and rosemary. I was half sure my braid contained at least one dried leaf from the plants I’d just harvested. And honestly? I loved it.The coven had sent word for more herbs—again—despite half the council pretending they didn’t use my supply. I’d harvested bundles of mugwort, moon lavender, and a small clutch of feverfew (because Darcy had been getting headaches and absolutely refused to admit it).I’d strung the bundles upside down on the overhead drying lines. They danced gently in the breeze through the open windows like they were part of some secret forest ballet.I even threw vegetables and fresh herbs into a large pot inside my fireplace for dinner. Dylan disappeared before sunrise with a messenger wolf. It was...weird to drink coffee on the porch
Last Updated: 2025-10-25
Chapter: Chapter SixThe moment our feet touched earth, the forest changed.No longer tame, no longer curious—this part of the woods watched. The air grew heavier, pulsing with that raw, territorial magic that lived in the marrow of every pack-bonded creature.Before we even stepped past the stone markers, they arrived.Three wolves materialized from the underbrush like they’d been waiting all morning. Enormous, fur bristling, they moved with slow, calculated menace. One—a sandy-furred brute with scars around his snout—let out a low warning growl that curled around my spine.I raised my hands. “He’s invited. Don’t get bitey.”Another wolf—a sleek, dark gray one with clouded eyes—stepped closer to Dylan, sniffing him from a polite distance that still screamed you don’t belong here.I was about to speak again when a calm, unshakable voice cut through the forest like a blade through silk.“Stand down.”The wolves froze, instantly stepping back with heads lowered.From between two massive pines stepped a man
Last Updated: 2025-10-24
Chapter: Chapter FiveThat night, I didn’t sleep.Not from fear. Not really.More like the kind of restless anticipation that curls up at the base of your spine and whispers everything might unravel tomorrow. My room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a spellstone in the corner. I lay on my side, eyes fixed on the shadows that danced across the ceiling as the moonlight slipped through the slats in the shutters.The pack would come for him. That was the plan. Formal invitation. Proper introduction. Set him on the path he never asked to walk.It made sense. It was the smart thing. The right thing.So why did it feel like I’d just agreed to hand over a bird with wet wings and no clue how high he could fly?I stared at the wall. What if the pack rejected him? What if they saw him as weak—feral—and chose punishment over patience? What if they didn’t explain the laws so much as beat them into him? He didn’t know the rituals. The expectations. The history. He didn’t even know how to hide his claws when angry.
Last Updated: 2025-10-24
Chapter: Chapter Four By the time the meeting finally ended, I was convinced we could’ve planned a small coup and finished faster. My brain felt like a scrambled potion—too many ingredients, not enough filtering, and just a hint of burning regret.Dragging my boots along the forest path, I muttered curses to the breeze. Babysitter. Peacemaker. They might as well have branded my forehead with “Designated Adult.” I could already feel the future migraines brewing like one of Brenna’s overzealous vials.When I reached the cottage, everything seemed...off. The herbs swayed unnaturally. The windows looked too clean. And there was a muffled sound—half-yell, half-whimper—coming from above.I squinted.And sure enough, there he was.The rogue werewolf was dangling halfway up the old sycamore tree in my front yard, clinging for dear life to a branch that was never meant to support full-grown men. His eyes were wide with panic, his legs tucked up as if the ground was lava.“What in the seven hells...?”He spotted me
Last Updated: 2025-10-24
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