Patient Zero Novel Novels & Stories

Sera’s voice broke: “Astra don’t” But the girl had already stepped forward. She reached out. And touched Zero’s hand. Nothing happened. No explosion. No shockwave. Just a stillness. As if the ship itself held its breath. Zero looked down at their joined hands. And for the first time, she whispered: “I don’t understand.” Astra replied, “You don’t have to.” And then Zero collapsed. Not violently. She folded. Like code collapsing into itself. A soft light bloomed in her chest.

Files opened in rapid succession—maps, experiment logs, facility locations, project titles. But one folder pulsed red. Project: SERAPH Isla opened it. A single video began to play. Grainy. Distorted. A laboratory. Dimly lit. Children in containment pods, unconscious. A woman in a white coat stood at the center—Lyra. Younger. Harder. She turned to the camera. “If this is being viewed, it means Subject Zero has reached phase five.” Ethan’s jaw tightened. “Subject Zero?” “That’s me,” Isla whispered.

Bag after bag of plasma was pumped into my veins. One raw, guttural scream tore out of me, and then the sound of a baby crying filled the room. On my phone, the screen was still frozen on one last image. Jasper and Fiona were locked in a kiss beneath the Aurelian Tower. I held my crying son and let the tears fall without stopping.

"I'm beginning to think this place hates us." Then suddenly, The steel door began to open. Slowly. CREEEEAK. Nobody moved. Nobody blinked. A figure stepped through. Dark hair. Dark eyes. Black clothes. Hands in his pockets. Just like on the security cameras. Ethan. Subject Zero. The original subject. Silence filled the tunnel. Because somehow... He looked completely normal. Not like a monster. Not like a dangerous experiment. Just a man. A man who looked exhausted. Very exhausted. Then he saw the little girl.

A happy life. . . **** So these were the last three bonus chapters and an EPILOGUE. I hope you liked the story. Thank you so much for reading it and supporting it. The journey was indeed long, right? Thank you again for loving Hazel and Christian. If you want to read their youngest child's story, you can DM me on my I* for the adress. Their youngest child's story name is "that's my girl" but it's not on Goodnovel. It's a free book.

He drew the briefcase on the floor up to the bar and slid it across to me. I caught it and looked at him. "What's this?" "Open it and see." Without taking my eyes off him, I opened the briefcase slightly. It was stacked with neat-looking one hundred dollar bills. I brought out one and sniffed it before putting it back. I looked up to see the man watching me closely. "Hi, my name is Zero, glad to make your acquaintance." I lifted a hand towards him in a hand shake and watched in rising amusement, the flow of emotions on his face. I knew he debated on whether to shake me or not. Coming to a conclusion, he brought out his hand and clasped mine in a firm shake.

Richard turned the photograph over. There were only six words written on the back. THE FIRST CHILD WAS NEVER A CHILD. Seraphina’s stomach dropped. “What does that mean?” Richard looked toward Zero-D. “It means we were wrong about Project Zero.” The baby suddenly stopped moving. Her tiny eyes opened. She looked directly at Seraphina. Richard continued. “We thought you were the beginning.” He pointed at Seraphina. “Zero-A.” Then he looked at Noah’s file. “Zero-B.” Then Zero-C.

For a moment, Isabella wondered if he even registered her presence at all. "Patient Zero," the files had called him. Not a name, just a number. An origin. The first to survive the Echo Protocol in its earliest, most brutal form. He was the first to be torn apart in the name of progress—before the Society knew the price they would pay for playing god with minds. Now, he was the last remnant of their failed ambition. Isabella approached cautiously, keeping her movements slow and unthreatening. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but when his eyes flicked up to meet hers, she saw something startling—a kind of clarity that pierced through the haze of medication and trauma.

I ask and turn to him. Zero is standing on both feet with his face completely healed save for the dried blood. “That has been appearing a lot recently. You do not see anything outside the thick smoke from a distance but when you move close, it is either a person or an animal burnt beyond recognition,” Zero tuts. My hands drop. That would have been my fate. “Let’s go. We need to save the person or animal,” I said as I hurried towards the huge doors. “We need to save them.”

*“Whatever it is… we’ll outrun it.” I kiss her—fierce and desperate, all teeth and promise. Her lips taste of bitter coffee and cayenne, but beneath it, the scars hum. A twin vibration. A lie. We never outran it. The numbers bled downward like an hourglass none of Mamá’s herbs could flip. 603 to 236, and the digits sear hotter with every butterfly’s wingbeat. We still don’t know what happens at zero. The first gunshot cracks. Not a warning. A declaration.