A manufactured lie

I woke up to the sound of hushed voices and the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. The air smelled sterile, sharp with disinfectant and something metallic. My eyelids felt heavy, my limbs weighed down like lead. My throat burned as if I had swallowed fire.

Fluorescent lights hummed above me, too bright, too artificial. It took me a second to realize where I was—a hospital. The soft rustling of papers, the quiet murmurs of conversation, and the faint beeping of machines grounded me in reality.

Then I noticed the men.

They stood in neat rows near the window and along the far wall, dressed in crisp black suits. Their faces were unreadable, their eyes sharp, calculating. There were at least ten of them, possibly more. I tried to shift, but my body ached, every muscle screaming in protest.

A man in a gray suit stepped forward, his expression blank. “Miss Lila Monroe, you’re awake.”

I swallowed against the dryness in my throat. “Where…?” My voice cracked.

“You’re in a secured medical facility. You’ve been unconscious for several days.”

Several days? My mind reeled. That wasn’t possible. The last thing I remembered was Light—his hands, his mouth, his voice dripping with wicked amusement. The memory sent a shudder down my spine.

“What happened?” I forced the words out.

The man exchanged glances with another suited figure before answering. “There was a catastrophic gas leak aboard the submarine. Level 3 contamination. The crew was exposed, leading to mass hysteria. Many succumbed to paranoia and violence. You were one of the few lucky enough to survive.”

I blinked, my heart pounding. “No,” I whispered. “That’s not what happened.”

The man didn’t react, only continued, as if he hadn’t heard me. “Most of the crew perished before emergency containment teams arrived. You were found unconscious but stable. Due to the exposure, we will need to run extensive psychological evaluations before clearing you for release.”

“No,” I said louder, pushing myself up despite the searing pain in my ribs. “That’s not what happened.”

I could still see them—the crew, their minds twisted, their bodies warped. The way they had whispered Light’s name like a prayer. The way he had stalked me through the halls, turning the submarine into his personal hunting ground. The way he had touched me, claimed me.

A gas leak? They expected me to believe that?

I shook my head, anger rising in my chest like a tidal wave. “You don’t understand. There was no gas leak. It was him. He—”

“Ah, so she’s finally awake.”

The smooth, condescending voice sent my blood boiling.

I turned to see my boss, Dr. Graves, standing at the foot of my bed. He looked completely unharmed, his neatly pressed suit unwrinkled, his sharp eyes filled with something cold and knowing.

My fists clenched the sheets.

“You,” I hissed. “You did this. You knew exactly what we were dealing with, and you let it happen. You let Light out.”

Graves didn’t even flinch. Instead, he gave me a pitying smile. “You’ve been through a traumatic event, Lila. The mind has a way of distorting things after severe stress. But don’t worry, we’re here to help you.”

The room felt like it was closing in on me.

He turned to the men in suits. “As I informed you earlier, Miss Monroe's mental state has been severely compromised. She has been experiencing hallucinations and delusions. It’s unfortunate, but not unexpected given the circumstances.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You—what?”

Graves looked back at me, that same infuriatingly calm expression on his face. “You suffered the worst exposure, after all. The things you saw, the things you think you saw—they weren’t real.”

I wanted to scream. My nails dug into my palms so hard they nearly broke the skin.

“You bastard.” My voice trembled with fury.

One of the suited men cleared his throat. “Dr. Graves, are you certain she poses no security risk?”

Graves smiled, his eyes never leaving mine. “Oh, I’m certain. Lila is an excellent scientist. She just needs… time.”

I felt like I was suffocating. This was a cover-up. A carefully constructed lie to bury the truth.

Light was real.

Everything that happened—his power, his cruelty, his hunger—it was all real.

And yet, here I was, strapped to a hospital bed, being told I was insane.

I wanted to fight, to shout the truth at the top of my lungs. But I wasn’t stupid.

These men weren’t here to help me. They were here to silence me.

I forced my breathing to steady. I needed to think.

Graves watched me closely, as if waiting for me to snap.

I swallowed my rage and met his gaze head-on. “I understand,” I said, my voice carefully measured.

He raised a brow. “Oh?”

I nodded. “You’re right. I must have imagined things. The gas leak… the hysteria… I don’t know what’s real anymore.” I lowered my eyes, feigning exhaustion. “I just want to rest.”

Graves studied me for a long moment before smirking. “Smart girl.”

He turned to the men in suits. “Give her a few more days. Then we’ll decide the next course of action.”

They murmured among themselves before filing out of the room, one by one. Graves was the last to leave. He paused in the doorway, glancing back at me with something almost like satisfaction.

“Try to get some sleep, Lila. You’ll feel better soon.”

The moment the door clicked shut, I exhaled shakily.

This wasn’t happening. How did this happen? How did I get out of the submarine? How did Dr. Graves survive. And a much more scary question: where did Light go?

I wasn’t crazy!

My hands curled into fists.

I wasn’t crazy.

I knew what had happened. I knew, I couldn’t just let this be sweeped. Mira… my friends, those innocent people that Light drove insane. No. I knew it had happened! I knew it had happened! I couldn’t let this blow away. I couldn’t let Dr. Graves get away with this!

And somehow, someway—I was going to prove it.