Jungle of Creation

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Summary

If you touch the flame, you're going to get burned. A family vacation to Brazil just brought Amira Denton more than she bargained for—a dead body. Now caught in a less than ideal situation with no way out, Amira is struggling to process what she’s seen, not to mention struggling to convince others of her unbelievable story. When she is recruited (quite unwillingly) by a secretive government agency that is hiding more truths than it’s telling, Amira’s life is turned upside down. She is thrust into a world of killers and scientists, where answers are the only priority. Or are they? While tiptoeing around these mysterious deaths and mind-jerking secrets that were supposed to only appear in fantasies, Amira has to figure out who to trust and how to get back home. She will do whatever it takes to return to her family, even if that means leaving behind a world in ruins. How do you run from your problems, though, when they affect you from the inside out?

Status
Complete
Chapters
22
Rating
n/a
Age Rating
13+

Prologue

Click. Click. Click.

Her heels casually make their way down the long, narrow hall with not a window in sight. She languidly moves her hips while she walks towards the one stark white door ahead, opting to take as much time as possible before she has to enter the room. Straightening her crisp suit jacket and skirt, and ensuring that her navy bandana is securely fastened around her neck. Anything to avoid that room. Unfortunately, her superficial stops only buy another few seconds before she reaches the shining white door.


Carefully entering her clearance code into the keypad, she only waits a millisecond before the door swings open automatically. Inside she’s greeted by the familiar smell of peppermint and bleach, as if the room was completely sterilized and then given a healthy dose of mouthwash. In a sense, it was. The room’s light consists only of the blinding artificial lamps lining the ceiling. Can’t let the outside world see this. The area is a spotless white, as in every other part of the complex, except for the single tan hospital bed situated in the center. On it lay a petite, middle-aged woman dressed in a typical baby blue hospital gown, although nothing about the situation is typical. The woman, fast asleep, is surrounded by all sorts of scanners and monitors to ensure she is kept stable and—most importantly—unconscious.
Various tubes are attached to her arms, drawing blood into bags for further evaluation. Ugh, the blood always makes me sick. She glazes her eyes over the rest of the room, checking to see nothing is out of place. No one else is here at this ungodly hour of the night. It’s about three in the morning or so and all she wants to do is go home, but she guesses this is what she gets for getting too caught up in all that paperwork. Satisfied, she spares one more glance at the woman in the bed. Ebony hair is spread across her pillow; her features are delicate and sallow. With any luck, their research will be done soon and they can get her out of here. She finally whirls back around and punches in the code to get back out of the room. Without a moment’s hesitation she widens the door and slips out, closing it behind her without looking back. Leaning against the door and heaving a brief sigh of relief, she quickly straightens back up. Posture and appearance impeccable as always, she makes her way back down the hall to leave, not slowing her brisk pace a bit this time. Click. Click. Click.