Prologue

An eight-year-old girl was laying in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar city, doing her best to fall asleep. The constant cars driving by, and sirens seemed strange to eight-year-old Wendy Wheel. She was used to living in the country where the only sounds at night were the crickets. But her daddy's new job as a truck driver meant that he would be gone for long periods of time. So he had sent her to live with her grandma while he was away.

After half an hour of tossing and turning the young girl gave up on sleep, and threw her fluffy, blue comforter to the floor. She snuck out of her room, and down the hall. She made sure to be as silent as possible as to not wake her grandmother. In all reality, she shouldn't have worried about disturbing her grandma, in her old age, Melony Wheel had lost her keen hearing.

Wendy continued to tiptoe down the hall until she reached her goal, the kitchen. There she opened the fridge and took out the milk. She had soon filled up a mug and put in the microwave. Her daddy always said that warm milk helps you sleep.

As she waited for her milk to be done she started fidgeting. It wasn't just the hustle and bustle of the city that was putting her on edge, something felt wrong.

The microwave let out a shrill beeping noise. Wendy took her milk out of the microwave and tested it with her finger. Not too hot, and not too cold, just right. She took a long slip. Still feeling uneasy she decided to make her way to the living room, and watch some tv. She found the comfiest spot on the couch, and used the remote to turn on the television.

"Breaking news!"

Wendy being eight did not really care for the news. Right as she was about to change the channel something caught her eye, and she froze.

"Tonight Have-Man yet again defeated the evil genius Overshadow. In the process, he also apprehended a man by the name of Colin Wheel, who aided the villain in his scheme. Mr. Wheel intercepted a super strength blow from the hero intended for Overshadow. Unfortunately, Mr. Wheel did not possess the same unbreakable skeleton as Overshadow, and passed away soon after the conflict... For more on this, we go to Kelly Hooper."

There on the screen was a video of her father, being punched in the face by Have-Man. Wendy bolted up. She felt dizzy, and sick but she didn't let that stop her. She practically leaped down the hall to her grandma's room, no longer caring about being quiet. Once she got there she flung the door open, and rushed to he grandma's bed.

"Grandma!" She practically screamed.

The old woman jolted out of bed at the sudden noise that even she could her. She was down next to her granddaughter has fast as her old bones would let her.

"What's wrong dear?" the older woman asked, concern etched across her face.

"Dad *hiccup* Tv *hiccup* Gone!' She managed to stutter out in between sobs.

A harsh knock suddenly rang through the house.

"Police open up!" a voice boomed from the front door.

Melony Wheel's eyes widened "Stay here Wendy. I'll deal with this."

Wendy sank to the carpeted floor as her grandma left to answer the door. The little girl curled up and started crying uncontrollably. In the distance, she could faintly make out her grandma talking to the police, but she didn't care.

"Daddy is. . . Dead."

Somehow saying it out loud made it all too real. Her sobs intensified. Every time she tried to breathe it felt like she was choking, but she didn't care. All she cared about were the three words that kept replaying in her head, over, and over again. Daddy is dead. Daddy is dead. Daddy is dead.

"Hey, you can't come in here!" Melony shouted in a slightly panicked voice. Her shout was followed by a loud thud.

Footsteps came closer, and closer until they stopped outside the room Wendy was in. Wendy's small body tensed in fear. The door swung open and two unfamiliar men walked in the room. One was a short, balding, man with small, beady eyes. The other was the exact opposite. He was tall, and lean, with short blonde hair. It didn't take long for the strangers to spot the girl curled up on the floor.

"There she is," the shorter man said, pointing at the girl. "Get her Z87."

The taller man, Z87, grabbed Wendy from the floor and hoisted her up over his shoulder. Wendy managed to overcome her shock enough to start kicking, and screaming.

"Let me go!" she screamed, as she hit, and kicked Z87.

Z87 grit his teeth, she may have been small but she was fierce.

"Any time now I19," he said, through gritted teeth.

The shorter man pulled a syringe from his belt, and smiled.

"Now hold still little girl. . . This is gonna hurt me more than it will hurt you." And with that, the short man dodged past Wendy's flailing limbs, and sunk the needle in her neck. Wendy felt a small sting of pain before she blacked out.

Wendy let out a small moan. Her head hurt like hell, she wanted to open her eyes, but her body wouldn't obey. Without opening her eyes she could tell she was strapped to a chair. 'How did I get here?' she asked herself silently. Suddenly the events of the night came back to her, and she was able to force her eyes open. She was in a small, square, white room. It was mostly empty save for two chairs, a table, and a door, all of which were also white. The chair Wendy was strapped to was in front of the table, facing the door. She was secured by one long strap that went around her middle. On the table were arm restraints, but they obviously hadn't bothered to secure the little girl's hands in them.


Wendy sat by herself, aching and dazed for about a minute before anything happened. The door she was facing slid open, and two men walked in. These were not the two men that had kidnapped her. The one who entered first was a man in his early fifties. He held his head up high in a dignified manner, his hair was mostly grey with a few dark streaks, and his sharp green eyes seemed to bore into Wendy. The other man was younger and clutching a clipboard. His eyes seemed to dart around the room nervously before focusing on the first man, who was obviously in charge.

The grey-haired man sat across from Wendy in the other chair. Clipboard guy stood slightly behind him, to the right, pen extended over paper, waiting to take notes.

"Hello, Miss. Wheel, it is a pleasure to meet you," said the grey-haired man, extending his right hand for a shake.

Wendy scowled and ignored his hand "Who are you?"

The man let a smile stretch across his face, it looked unnatural. "You can call me Mr. Doe."

Wendy stubbornly continued to refuse his handshake. His hand, and smile dropped.

"Miss. Wheel, do you know what your father's occupation was?" Mr. Doe asked, in a calm cold tone.

"He is a truck driver" The man with the clipboard scribbled something down.

"Ah yes...' he trailed off, unconvinced. "How long did your father work as a truck driver?"

"A month." More scribbling.

"Did you know that your father was working for supervillains?" Wendy's glare intensified.

"My daddy is a good guy!" More scribbling.

"Mmmm E27 go get I19 for me." The man with the clipboard scuffled away through the door, which slid open for him.

"I understand dear. It is hard to comprehend that the people we love can be capable of evil."

"My daddy is not evil!" Mr. Doe let out a sympathetic sigh, that caused Wendy's skin to crawl

The door slid open, and the short man from before walked in. He was carrying a new syringe, full of a clear liquid. Wendy felt panic set in again, and started struggling against her restraints.

"Now now little miss. The more you struggle, the more this will hurt," I19 said, approaching her with the needle

Wendy put her hands over her face, palms up. All the emotions from the night were catching up with her fear, anger, sadness, loss, panic. She felt a foreign tug in her gut, and her hands started tingling.

"Ack! What the hell!" Yelped I19.

Rays of blue, purple, and pink light were emanating from Wendy's hands, right into I19 beady eyes. He stumbled but quickly recovered. Now looking away from her hands he plunged the needle in her neck for the second time that night.

The last thing Wendy heard before she blacked out was "Interesting."

The next thing Wendy could remember was waking up in an empty unfamiliar room. Days, weeks, then finally months passed and she remained locked up. Occasionally she would be escorted out of her room so strange men in lab coats could hook her up to bulky machines, and poke her with sharp needles. At first she had held out hope that somebody, anybody would come to her rescue but slowly that hope had faded away.

Wendy Wheel stared up at the ceiling with vacant eyes. She was laying on a white mattress, on top of a white, plastic bed frame. She was in a white-walled room, that was about as big as your average office cubicle, with one locked door on the wall across from her bed. The only other piece of furniture was a white toilet that resided in the corner of the room. At first, Wendy had refused to use the toilet, but it soon became apparent that she had no choice. She knew they were watching her. They said they weren't, but she knew they were lying. They were always watching.

The door slid open, but the eight-year old's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. A young woman with long, light brown, curly hair walked in. She was tall and thin. Her face seemed to be fixed with a permanent smile.

"Good morning Wendy! How are you today?" She asked chipperly.

Wendy ignored her visitor. The woman's name was Maezzy and she would come to visit Wendy every day. She was the only person besides Mr. Doe, who had introduced herself using an actual name.

"Awe come on Wendy! We hardly talk anymore! How's my girl been doing?" The young girl continued to ignore her.

During the first week of her 'stay', Wendy had trusted Maezzy. After all the woman seemed so kind and understanding, she was the only one who seemed to be on Wendy's side. But after being stuck in the facility for several months Wendy had come to the realization that nobody was on her side.

Maezzy made a pouty face. "Oh come on Wendy I thought we were friends. Maybe if you behave better I can get you some outside time." Wendy continued to ignore her.

The little girl had started retreating into her own fantasy world. She was stuck in that room almost 24/7 with no friends, or distractions. So the young girl had started dreaming up fantasy adventures about dragons, knights, and fairies. At the moment she was soaring through the sky on Albus the dragon.

"Well I hate to do this, but I guess I'm just going to have to tell Mr. Doe about you."

This broke Wendy out of her fantasy. She swiftly sat up on her bed, and looked at Maezzy head on.

"I want to talk to Mr. Doe," Wendy said, in a tone far too serious for a Girl her age.

This seemed to take the older woman by surprise, clearly, she had expected this to scare the little girl into submission. But obviously, it was having the opposite effect.

"Mr. Doe is a very busy man. He doesn't have time to be your babysitter!"

Wendy crossed her arms "You just said you could talk to him! Why can't he talk to me!"

Maezzy opened her mouth to respond, but just as she was about to speak the door opened again.

"You may go now A1." Maezzy's Head whipped around to face the door. Standing in the doorway was the imposing figure of Mr. Doe.

"Sir I assure you I have everything under. . ." Mr. Doe cut her off.

"Oh yes, I can see that. Really A1, how hard is it to interrogate a child?"

"I am sorry to have disappointed you sir, but I. . ." She was cut off again.

"I said you are dismissed."

Maezzy briefly considered her options before turning around and exiting the room, clearly not wanting to anger her boss more. The door slide shut behind her, leaving the man, and the little girl completely alone.

"Well Wendy, I've been hearing a lot of stories about you. Apparently, you have been giving A1. . . I mean Maezzy, a hard time." Wendy crossed her arms and glared at the man. He let out a chuckle. "Why so stubborn? We just want to help."

"Let me go." She was doing her best to appear brave, but she could feel herself shaking slightly.

"I'm giving you one last chance Wendy. Cooperate or else."

Wendy's trembling increased, but she still did not respond.

He let out a sigh, an obviously fake look of regret crossed his face. "Then you leave me no choice. E88!"

The door slid open yet again, and another man walked through. Wendy didn't recognize him. He was tall, and scrawny, with sharp facial features. His hair was black, and looked incredibly greasy. In one hand he held a picture frame, in the other he held a small, black cylinder, with a red button on the top. He handed both items to Mr. Doe, before retreating from the room.

Mr. Doe quickly glanced at the photograph himself, before turning it towards Wendy.

"Do you know this woman?"

Wendy immediately recognized the woman in the photograph, it was her grandmother smiling, and waving at the camera.

"Well?" Wendy still did not respond. "This is your grandmother. And this," he said, raising the hand holding the cylinder. "This is a detonator. Do you know what it does?"

Wendy wasn't sure what it did, but she could tell by his tone of voice it was terrible.

"This detonator sets off a bomb. Do you know where this bomb is?"

Wendy finally nodded, she wasn't dumb, she could tell where this was going. Her trembling intensified, her stomach was churning, making her want to puke.

"It is in your dear old granny's house. Now if I press this button her house will explode, and I know for a fact that she is home at this moment."

Wendy wanted to sob, but somehow she couldn't muster the energy.

"Now if you are a good little girl, and listen to everything me, and my team says I won't press this button. But if you disobey. . . Well, then I'm afraid I'll have no choice. Do you understand?"

Wendy nodded again, as she choked back a sob. Tears were flowing freely down her face now.

"Good," he said, a wide smile spreading across his face.

Mr. Doe turned around to face the door.

"E88!" The door slid open, and Mr. Doe walked through it to the hall.

The hallway like Wendy's room was completely white. Fluorescent lights hung from the ceiling giving the whole scene an eerie glow. E88 was standing outside the room observing a monitor that was mounted to the wall. On the monitor Wendy had curled up into the fetal position on her bed, sobbing hysterically. Mr. Doe handed his minion the photo of Mrs. Wheel.

"Sir would you like me to secure the detonator?"

"There is no need for that," Mr. Doe said, as he pressed the red button.