Synthesized Pulse

I always thought it was a cruel joke that my first-year assignment in behavioral genetics required stepping into maximum-security prison. As an eighteen-year-old neurobiology student, I was perfectly content spending my life hidden behind rows sterile laboratory equipment, peering into microscopes, learning about human brain and psychology and DNA sequences. I am an introvert to my core-an overthinker who thrives in silence. Crowds terrify me, sudden noise makes me jump. My own heartbeat is usually the loudest thing I hear in a room.

Yet, here I was, smoothening down my navy-blue flared jeans with hands that wouldn't stop shaking as i read the name plate LAB-6.

"Stay behind the lines all the time kid," the larger of the two armed guards muttered, his boots squeaking loudly against the pristine, bleach-scented linoleum hallway. "He is chained down but don't let the calm face fool you, a predator is a predator."

I swallowed hard, clutching my plastic clipboard against my white shirt as if it were my shield. My waist-length, curly and wavy mixed black hair tied into a ponytail, looking professional I straighten my white crop shirt, reminding myself not to look nervous in front of the predator. I take a deep breath biting my lips-a nervous habit I had whenever I panic, I fist my palm naiks digging in my skin. I let a soft sigh and get ready.

Just get the data Aditi, I told myself, One week of interviews. Map his behavioral markers. Then you can go back to your lab.

I swipe my Id into the security panel. BEEP. The massive, reinforced steel doors slide open with a heavy, pneumatic hiss, and the guards escorted me inside.

The interrogation room was painfully sterile. Cold white walls, a brutal crimson emergency bulb humming silently in the corner, and an heavy iron table blotted to the center of the floor. There were two chairs. One empty

The other was occupied by a shadow that seemed to swallow all the light in the room.

My breath completely hitched, the file in my hands hadn't prepared me for the sheer, suffocating scale of the man sitting in front of me.

Vidyut. He was twenty-nine-years old, sitting and cuffed to the chair but still his 6'4 frame imposing, with a muscular build that stretched the fabric of his dark prison uniform. His jet-black hair was casually messy, falling slightly over the pair of brown eyes that didn't just looked at me-they dissected me.

Heavy steeled chains bound to his wrists and ankles to the metal chair frame, but he didn't looked trapped at all. He looked like a king sitting on a throne. As the guards stepped back towards the door, leaving me alone in the room, the heavy chains clinked softly. Vidyut shifted his massive frame, leaning forward as much as the restrains allowed.

A slow dangerously amused smirk pulled at the corner of his lips

"Well, well," he purred, his voice that deep, gravelly register that made a shiver run down my spine.

"They usually send old men in grey suits to ask me boring questions. Did I get good behavior points, or are you just brave, little bird?"

My breath hitched; his gaze travelled from my face to my Id, he looked dead in my eyes and said, "Sit down, Aditi." I sat down opposite to him not letting him see the effect of his presence.

He smirked seeing my reaction, "Don't look so serious. I don't bite...unless you ask nicely." Probably expecting me to turn and walk out for once and all.

I cleared my throat and looked in his eyes; keeping my notepad and pen on the table, " I am here to analyze your neuro-psychology, let's start the record." His smirk just grew.

"My record?"; his voice echoed as he leaned back to his chair sitting straight towering over my 5'4 frame, "Careful, Aditi. If we look too closely you might not want to stay there anymore, little bird. But go ahead...ask your questions. I'm all yours."

I swallowed hard and looked down focusing on my papers. If I couldn't handle his sharp gaze, I wouldn't survive this week. I need to pivot back to the basic biology for today. The deeper analysis could wait.

"Let's focus on the basic biometrics," I said, my voice finally steadying as I cleared my throat. "The prison logs state that your heartrate never goes above sixty beats per minute. Even during high-stress operational situations. How do you explain that?"

Vidyut leaned back, the heavy chains clinking smoothly against his chest. His posture was completely relaxed, yet he remained perfectly alert. "It is a matter of discipline and physical conditioning, Aditi. Panic in inefficient. In my line of work, a second of hesitation caused by fear can mean the difference between completing a contract and failing it. I simply train my mind to calculate variables instead of panicking.

"It goes beyond training," I countered, my pen hovering over the paper. "Let's talk about your professional boundaries, Vidyut. The files say you have a zero-failure rate, but they don't list your personal limits. What about empathy? Do you have rules when it comes to women and children, or is everyone just a target to you?"

Vidyut's expression didn't change. His dark eyes remained completely calm, but the air in the room suddenly felt heavier. He didn't look angry; he looked disappointed that I even asked.

"I am a professional assassin, Aditi, not a butcher," he said, his voice dropping to a low steady rumble. "I eliminate threats. That is why your scientists have me locked up in this cage-they want to see how my brain works when I hunt. But you are just a student with a clipboard. You are not a threat to me, little bird. At least, not yet."

He leaned as far as the chains would let him, his brown eyes locking onto mine with a cold, precise intensity.

My fingers tightened around my pen so hard the plastic creaked. He was trying to rattle me, to turn this interview into a personal game. I needed to take back the control of the room.

Before I could answer, a loud buzzer cut the air.

BUZZ!

The heavy steel doors slid open with a loud hiss. The large guard stepped inside. "Time is up kid," the guard told, waving his hand toward the exit.

I did not say a word. I quickly gathered my notepad, clipboard, and pen. My hands were toward the door. I kept my eyes locked on the exit, refusing to look back at the monster in the chair

But his voice stopped me right at the threshold.

"Until next week, little bird," Vidyut purred, the slow clink of his chains sounding like a promise in the quiet room. "Try not to miss me too much," he smirked muttering; "Careful on your way out, little bird. I would hate for anyone else to scare you before I do."

The heavy steel doors slid shut behind me. The loud CLANG echoed down the hallway. It sounded like a cage locking shut. Only this time, I was the one on the outside.

My legs instantly turned into a jelly. I collapsed against the cold, white wall of the corridor. I let out a long breath I did not know I was holding. My heart which was so quiet and controlled in front of Vidyut, suddenly went wild. It hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird.

"Step away from the door, kid," the guard ordered. His voice was flat and hard as iron. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his tactical vest. He did not smile. "Follow me." Keep your hands where I can see them."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. I nodded quickly and forced my legs to move. My navy-blue flared jeans felt heavy. We walked through three more security doors. The guard did not say a word the entire time. His silence made the hallway feel even longer. The whole research center felt less like a base and more like a maze built to bury secrets. Finally, we reached the main reception desk. The air smelled less like bleach and more like a stale coffee.

"Sign out," the guard said, pointing a gloved finger at the counter.

My hand shook badly I could barely hold the pen. My signature looked like a jagged, messy line. I handed back the plastic visitor badge. The metal clip made a sharp snap sound.

"Your clearance expires exactly in seven days," the guard stated.

I did not answer him. I pushed through the heavy glass revolving doors.

The warm afternoon air hit my face. The sun was bright. it felt strange. I start to march towards the student researcher's quarters. The dorm rooms provided to the elite selected students for the project which was going to make human evolution.

"Aditi?" a calm voice called out, interrupting my thoughts. I jumped slightly and turned to see Professor Vance standing near the entrance of the researcher's lounge. He offered a warm, gentle smile that instantly made the tight knot in my chest loosen a bit. He was always neat and polite, completely different from the guards at the prison. "How did the first interview go? Did you manage to gather the baseline heart rate data from our subject, Vidyut?" I took a quiet and nodded, trying to hide how much the assassin had actually rattled me. Professor Vance walked over and adjusted his glasses, his eyes shining with intense curiosity. "Excellent. Remember, his genetic makeup holds the key to our entire evolution project, so I need your reports to be perfectly precise."