Sir Reginald adopted seven children orignally.
When they all grew up he created Number Eight.
Meet Layla Hargreeves, a young girl who is the creation of seven viles.
Follow Layla as she devlops her powers as the world ends.
Based off the Netflix...
"You say you can't live without me. Then why aren't you dead yet?"
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Layla blinked teleporting herself back into the kitchen, leaving Allison back at the paintings. Regional had trained Layla non stop. Because unlike her siblings she was the only one left. The only one he had to focus on.
Pogo walked in checking up on each room as Sir Regild's pearl box had come up missing. Whatever was in it seemed super important. Grace placed Layla's food in front of her with the crusts cut off just how she liked.
"Thanks Mom!" Layla thanked her Mother, shooting her a smile as her nerves faded away and her stomach settled when she was alone with just Pogo and Grace. For that was how she grew up only ever seeing her father during mealtimes or training.
Quickly eating her favorite sandwich quickly before heading off to another room. Layla over heard voices in the main room, shrugging it off and heading to her bedroom. The door read number eight, inside was four pastel pink walls with butterflies surrounding her twin bed. It appeared as if they all were fluttering up from her detailed white headboard.
Her room was almost like Allison's in a way however she ad Ben's book collection, Vanya's love for classical music, Luther's vinyls and a light pastel blue record player, Layla gathered some of the same posters as Klaus from his childhood, lastly Five's comic books she like to look at the pictures reading small bits otherwise her head would hurt, and Diego's array of deadly weapons. Her dartboard had been littered with knives because one day her Father had locked the door and she wasn't able to escape for a week. Therefore as she grew sick of boredom she grabbed a knife and hit the bulls-eye straight on point.
*Flashback*
"Number Eight! Reginald was infuriated that she had skipped training because she had nap time. It hadn't been her fault she was a four and a half year old child.
Grace had told her to therefore she could restore some of her energy. Layla obeyed without question bending at the will of her elders. Layla whimpered softly though that was even too loud she clapped her hand over her mouth hiding in her closet. Peering through the cracks of her light oak wooden closet doors.
Although it had been too late the old man heard her cry. "Number Eight you need to be punished, locked away in solitary confinement." Reginald told the girl locking her inside her bedroom for a week. Her only company was Grace to give her food during meal times. Otherwise Lalya was alone...
