Let me start by saying: if you ever get a text that says "Check the basement. Tonight," and you're not 100% sure who sent it? Don't go. Seriously. Grab a pizza, call it a night, pretend your phone's haunted. Because basements, especially the ones under coffee shops, are where bad ideas go to die. Or worse—where they wake up.
But here's the thing: I'd spent all day staring at my arms. Those blue veins? They'd spread from my wrists to my elbows overnight, glowing faintly like someone'd injected glow sticks under my skin. When I flipped on a lamp, they pulsed. Not fast, like a heartbeat—slow, like a… code. Whatever that meant.
So when the sun dipped below the horizon and the coffee shop's "Closed" sign flipped on, I found myself lingering outside. Maria locked the door, gave me a look like she knew exactly what I was about to do, and mouthed, "Don't be stupid." Then she turned her back. Rude.
The basement door was behind the espresso machine, hidden under a rug that smelled like mothballs and regret. I yanked it aside, revealing a rusted metal handle. The stairs creaked like they were auditioning for Scream 8, but I forced myself down. One step. Two. Three. By the time I hit the bottom, my palms were sweating so bad I could've wrung out a sponge.
The basement was smaller than I expected—just a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting yellow light on stacks of boxes labeled "Old Coffee Filters" and "Broken Blenders." But in the corner, under a tarp, was a cardboard box with "7B's Stuff" scrawled on it in black marker. That's me. Apparently, I'm "7B." Cute.
I pried the box open. Inside: a journal (leather cover, pages yellowed), a pair of leather gloves (smelled like chemicals), and a walkie-talkie (static fizzing when I pressed the button). The journal was thicker than my arm, so I flipped to the first page.
"Day 12: They still call me 7A. Like I'm just a number. Dr. Shen says the code will 'stabilize' if I cooperate. But my head hurts. I keep seeing… shadows. Not real. Like static on a TV. And my arms—"
Page torn out. Next page:
"Day 20: I found a way out. The code's in the walls. The coffee shop's a front. They're testing us—clones. 7A, 7B, 7C… how many are there? I overheard Dr. Shen say '78' yesterday. Seventy-eight of us. All with blue veins. All with… memories. But mine are fuzzy. Like someone erased parts of my brain. Wait—did I write this already? No. No, I didn't. Why am I repeating myself?"
Page after page: scribbles about "the code" eating her thoughts, about "the blue veins" being a "tracking system," about how she'd hidden a "key" in the walls of the shop. Then, at the end, a single sentence scrawled in red ink (was that blood? Probably not. Probably just red pen):
"THEY'RE WATCHING. DON'T TRUST MARIA."
I slammed the journal shut. My heart was racing so hard I thought I might pass out. Don't trust Maria. But Maria was the one who'd hinted I was part of something. Maria who'd acted weird about Rick. Maria who'd… Wait, what if she was right? What if she was trying to help?
Before I could panic further, the walkie-talkie in my hand crackled. Static, then a voice—deep, accented, familiar. "7B. You're down there, aren't you?"
Dr. Shen. Of course. The guy from the coffee shop's texts. The one who'd invited me here.
"Who is this? How do you know my name?" I hissed into the walkie-talkie.
A low chuckle. "Call me Dr. Shen. I'm… the reason you're here. The reason you're alive. The code in your arms—it's not a curse. It's a key. To everything."
"To what?"
"To the truth. About the clones. About the coffee shop. About why Rick lost it earlier."
I froze. "How do you know about Rick?"
"Because he's one of us. Or… was. He drank the decaf, which we laced with a 'trigger.' A way to wake up the code. But he wasn't ready. His brain couldn't handle it."
"Handle what?"
"Memories. Yours. Mine. All of ours. We're not the first 78. There were 77 before us. Clones. Test subjects. They all… broke. Except one."
"Who?"
"7A."
My stomach dropped. "The girl in the journal?"
"Exactly. She escaped. But she left clues. This basement. The journal. The gloves. And you—"
"Me?"
"7B. You're the next. The code in your arms is stronger than hers was. Stronger than any of them. You're the one who can break the cycle."
"Break it how? By… what? Dying?"
Silence. Then: "Maybe. Maybe not. But you need to hurry. The code's accelerating. Those blue veins—they'll spread to your brain soon. When they do…"
"When they do, what?"
"You'll forget. Just like the others. You'll wake up tomorrow, thinking you're just some girl who likes lattes. And the truth? Gone. Forever."
I glanced at my arms. The blue was brighter now, creeping toward my shoulders. "Why me? Why am I different?"
"Because you're the first one who cares. The others… they accepted it. They let the code take over. But you're fighting. That's why 7A picked you. That's why I'm helping you."
"Helping me how? What do I do?"
"Find the key. In the walls. The journal mentioned it. Follow the blue veins—they'll lead you to it."
I looked around the basement. The walls were concrete, cracked, covered in mold. "How do I find it? It's dark in here!"
"Use the gloves. They're insulated. The code reacts to them. Touch the walls. The right spot will… hum."
I pulled on the gloves. They were thick, sticky, smelled like old lab equipment. I pressed my palm to the wall. Nothing. Another patch. Still nothing. Then—buzz. A low vibration, like a tuning fork, under my fingers.
"There!" I said.
"Good. Dig."
I used my nails, then a loose brick from the floor, scraping at the mortar. Dust flew, stung my eyes. But under the mortar… a metal plate. Small, round, labeled "7B" in the same black marker as the box.
"Got it!" I yelled.
"Open it. Hurry."
I pried the plate off, revealing a small compartment. Inside: a USB drive. No label. Just a tiny light blinking red.
"What's this?"
"Proof. Of everything. The clones. The experiments. The company that's behind it all—Blackwood Labs. They own this coffee shop. They own you. This drive has their records. Emails. Videos. Everything you need to expose them."
"Then why give it to me? Why not just… take it yourself?"
Another pause. "Because Blackwood owns me too. I'm 7G. Retired. Broken. But I can still help you. Once you have the drive, you need to get out of here. Fast. They'll know you've got it soon. The code—"
The walkie-talkie cut out. Static, then a high-pitched beep. Then… footsteps. Heavy, fast, coming down the stairs.
I froze. "Dr. Shen? Are you—"
"Hide!" a voice hissed. Maria. From the top of the stairs. "They're here!"
Who's "they"? I didn't have time to ask. I shoved the USB drive into my pocket, grabbed the journal and gloves, and ducked behind a stack of boxes. The footsteps hit the basement floor—three people. One heavy, two lighter. One of the lighter ones laughed.
"7B's down here. Smells like fear and cheap perfume."
Rick. Oh no. Rick was here.
Maria's voice was sharp. "Rick, stay back. He's armed—"
"Armed with what? A journal?" Rick snickered. "C'mon, Maria. You know Blackwood pays better than your little coffee shop. Why'd you even bother hiding her? She's just another clone. Another number."
"Because she's different," Maria snapped. "She's fighting. Unlike the rest of you morons who let the code turn you into zombies!"
"Zombies? Please. The code's a gift. It makes us stronger. Faster. Better." Rick's voice dropped, menacing. "Stronger than you, Maria. Stronger than Dr. Shen. And soon… stronger than her." He jerked his chin toward my hiding spot.
I held my breath. My arms itched, the blue veins burning like fire. Don't panic. Don't panic.
Then—crash. A box hit the floor where I was hiding. Rick lunged, but Maria grabbed his arm. "No—wait—"
But Rick was too strong. He yanked free, tackling Maria to the ground. She hit her head on a box—thud—and lay still.
Oh no. Oh no no no.
Rick turned to me, grinning. His eyes were… wrong. Glowing. Same blue as my veins, but brighter. Infected.
"Found you," he said. His voice wasn't his anymore. It was… echoey. Like a radio. "Time to come home, 7B. Time to join the family."
I scrambled out from behind the boxes, but he was faster. He grabbed my wrist, and the second his skin touched mine, electricity shot through my body. My vision blurred. My head throbbed. Memories flooded in—other lives. Other girls. All clones. All with blue veins. All screaming as the code ate their brains.
"Stop fighting it," Rick whispered. "It's easier if you just… let go."
I tried to pull away, but his grip was like iron. My arms burned, the blue veins now glowing so bright they hurt. This is it, I thought. This is how I break the cycle. By losing my mind.
Then—bang. A gunshot.
Rick froze. Then collapsed, a bullet hole in his shoulder.
Standing at the top of the stairs: Dr. Shen, holding a smoking gun. "Sorry, 7B. But some of us still have a job to do."
Maria groaned, stirring on the floor. "Dr. Shen—what are you—"
"Get up," he said. "We don't have much time. The code's spreading faster than I thought. 7B's almost gone."
I looked down at my arms. The blue was almost to my collarbone. My head felt light, like I was floating.
"Follow me," Dr. Shen said. "We need to get that drive to Blackwood before they realize what you've got. Before they shut you down."
"Why should I trust you?" I croaked.
He glanced at Maria, who was slowly sitting up, blood trickling from her head. "Because Maria trusts me. And because… I'm the only one who knows how to stop the code. Even if it kills me."
I hesitated. Then, I grabbed Maria's hand. She squeezed back, weakly.
"Lead the way," I said.
Dr. Shen nodded. We raced up the stairs, out of the basement, into the night. Behind us, the coffee shop's lights flickered. Somewhere, a siren wailed.
And in my head? The code whispered. "Almost home."
But home, I realized, wasn't a place. It was a choice. And I wasn't ready to make it yet.