PROJECT EVE

© 2026 Ghada Hamdan. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except for brief quotations used in reviews or academic purposes.

This is a fiction work. All characters, organizations, and events are fictional or used in a fictional context. Any resemblance to real people, companies, or events is purely coincidental.

While this story may draw inspiration from real scientific concepts and developments, the plot, characters, and events have been created for fictional and entertainment purposes.

Deep in the valleys surrounding San Francisco stood Helix Dermal Technologies, one of the most secretive laboratories in the biotech industry. Behind its mirrored glass walls, scientists spent years developing experimental medicines, skin treatments, and technologies the public knew nothing about.

The moment I stepped inside, the cold sterile air wrapped around me like a warning.

Dr. Cole walked beside me through the long white corridor, his polished shoes echoing against the floor. Researchers moved quickly around us, carrying tablets and sealed containers while giant digital screens displayed streams of data,

“Evelyn,” Dr. Cole said calmly, “you are one of the youngest scientists we have ever hired. I am glad you accepted the position.”

I gave him a small nod.

“I also heard about your father,” he continued. “He was a brilliant scientist. The industry lost an extraordinary mind before he could complete his invention.”

My steps slowed down, I turned toward him, surprise flashing across my face. My eyes widened, while my heart skipped a beat.

“Did you know my father?”

Dr. Cole shook his head.

“Yes. Everyone in this field heard about him. I did not meet him personally, but I read about his research. Your father was a legend.”

Something about the way he said it unsettled me.

We stopped in front of a large steel door. Dr. Cole pulled out a black access card and slid it through the security panel. A sharp beep echoed through the hallway before the heavy door slowly opened.

The moment I stepped inside, my stomach tightened. Rows of metal cages lined the laboratory walls. Animals filled every corner of the room—rabbits, mice, monkeys. They were strangely quiet, curled themselves beneath the harsh fluorescent lights. Others scratched violently at their skin.

My eyes widened to see this painful scene. Rashes covered parts of their bodies. Patches of missing fur exposed irritated flesh beneath. One monkey stared directly at me with bloodshot eyes, its trembling hands gripping the bars of the cage.

I swallowed hard.

“These animals…” I whispered. “They’re the test subjects?”

Dr. Cole turned toward me, his expression unreadable.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. “I know it is difficult to see. But this is the only way progress happens.”

I looked around the room again. These animals did not look like part of scientific progress.

They looked like victims. I looked at him, unable to hide my discomfort.

“These animals are suffering,” I said quietly. “I wish there were another way to evaluate these medicines and creams.”

Dr. Cole barely reacted.

“They’re animals, Evelyn,” he replied coldly. “Don’t let emotions distract you from science.”

For a moment, his voice faded beneath the memory of my father’s words.

“Every life matter, Evelyn. Never forget that.”

I could still remember the late nights in his private laboratory; his tired eyes fixed on glowing computer screens as he whispered secrets no one else was meant to hear.

“Finish what I began… but do it in secret.” He made his words clear as he continued, “Study their behavior. Find another method. Stop the testing. It’s cruel.”

The memory sent a chill through me. I straightened my posture and forced myself back to reality.

“I’m ready for my role,” I said firmly.

A faint smile crossed Dr. Cole’s face.

“As a biochemical specialist, you’ll oversee the molecular structure of our skincare products,” he explained while walking me deeper into the laboratory. “You will analyze chemical stability, monitor cellular reactions, improve absorption formulas, and document every testing result. I also want daily reports on skin regeneration trials and toxicity levels.”

He stopped beside a glass workstation filled with digital monitors and advanced lab equipment.

“This will be your station.”

I nodded silently.

“Your access credentials are already activated,” he continued. “Certain projects are classified, so do not attempt to enter restricted files without authorization.”

These words made me more curious.

Dr. Cole adjusted the sleeve of his coat before giving me one final glance.

“Welcome to Helix corporation, Evelyn.” He smiled politely and continued, “I will be in my office, if you need me.”

Then he walked away.

The laboratory suddenly felt quieter without him. I sat down slowly and opened my laptop. Lines of chemical data immediately appeared across the screen. The first product assigned to me was an experimental anti-aging face cream scheduled for animal testing within days.

As I studied the formula, my expression darkened, because the compound overloaded with synthetic chemicals, Toxic stabilizers, Aggressive acids, and Unapproved molecular enhancers.

I looked back toward the cages across the room.

My chest tightened as I thought about these animals. They are going to suffer.

For the next few hours, I adjusted the formula repeatedly, trying to reduce the damage while maintaining the cream’s effectiveness. I removed certain compounds, replaced others, and evaluated different biochemical combinations.

But every result failed. The formula became unstable each time. Somewhere deep inside me, an uneasy feeling began to grow.

The problem was not the formula; the entire project was wrong from the beginning.

After few hours of failed attempts, frustration slowly settled inside me. No matter how many combinations I tried, the formula refused to stabilize without the harsh chemicals.

I rubbed my tired eyes and glanced at the clock on the corner of my screen.

It was 4:57 p.m.

The laboratory had grown quieter as employees finished their shifts. Exhausted, I shut down my laptop and reached for my purse.

As I walked toward the exit, something caught my attention, A small cage stood alone near the back corner of the room.

Inside it was a tiny white rabbit. I stopped instantly. Part of its face was severely injured, the fur around its eye burned away, leaving irritated red skin beneath. The rabbit pressed itself against the far side of the cage, shaking slightly.

Attached to the cage was a small label.

VIVO — Rabbit Test 3

Slowly, I knelt beside it. The rabbit suddenly jumped back in fear. I carefully reached my hand toward the cage.

“Don’t do that.”

The sharp voice startled me. I looked up quickly.

A young man stood few feet away wearing a dark lab coat. His expression was tense, almost irritated, though exhaustion shadowed his face. His eyes moved from me to the rabbit.

“It could scratch you,” he said.

I slowly lowered my hand, then I asked quietly, “Is this rabbit new?”

He glanced at the cage before answering.

“Yes. The first test happened last week.” His jaw tightened slightly. “They’re waiting for the burns to heal before continuing the next phase.”

The words disturbed me more than I expected. I stood up slowly before I replied, “I understand.”

For a moment, silence filled the space between us, then he extended his hand toward me.

“I’m Dr. Antony Wetmore.”

I shook his hand gently.

“Evely Kain. Nice to meet you.”

The moment he heard my last name, his expression changed. His eyes stayed on me a little longer than necessary.

“Kain…” he repeated quietly. “Are you related to Dr. Richard Kain?”

I nodded.

“Yes,” I answered softly. “He is my father.”

Something unreadable crossed his face, it was not as shock, instead I saw recognition.

Finally, I left the laboratory and headed back to my apartment. It was past five when I locked the door behind me. Without hesitation, I went straight to the small basement room.

I opened the door and stepped inside, then switched on the computer. Several pages came to life across the screen. I sat in front of the large monitor and began typing formulas and code searching for a way to alter the equation. Hours passed, but nothing changed.

I turned toward the small safe my father had hidden beneath the floor, under the old tie rack. I opened it and pulled out his notes.

I hold them tightly, then I whispered, “Father… there is no way to make these formulas harmless.”

After few seconds, I returned to the screen and began entering his code. It was the first time I had ever done it. I needed to understand what it really was.