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My Stranger

By Melina. L All Rights Reserved ©

Fantasy / Romance


The year is 2045, Amanda Bryce is an extraordinary girl with the ability to create illusions. Living in the outskirts of Mysokhi on planet Asklir, where society can no longer distinguish between what is real and what is created and belonging to The Rebellion, a secret group consisting of others like her that is fighting against the tyranny of The Valiants, decisions will have to be made. In the midst of all this, she meets Shaun Markson, a mysterious Ex-Valiant who wants to protect her for his own reasons, but fails when he finds himself falling in love with her.

Chapter One

“It’s not as if I didn’t try. But somewhere between being who you needed and who I needed, I became a stranger to us both” - BMM Poetry

The cold air brushed across her neck as she lay there, crouched and wet. The dress gown was all stained with the constant stream of her tears and it didn’t help that she couldn’t wipe them out.

“I didn’t do it, it was just there and then it wasn’t. Please make it stop”, her voice had cracked, echoing into the eerie surroundings that she herself created. Dark, dingy and devoid of any hope. The walls had crept up all around her when she ran from there - the place she vowed herself never to speak of again. Jet black, solid masses now stood there staring at her and she stared back at them.

It was then that she heard faint whispers nearby, realizing that it- they spoke of her. They called her mad, even deranged, but she knew she was far more than that. Heaving a sigh and closing her eyes, she listened to the fading sounds before opening them again and finding herself strapped onto a bed. The room was familiar, she had been here a couple of times with her parents, but instead of the usual trip, today like the last few days she was alone and trapped. She didn’t know who her captors were or what they wanted but she had been unsuccessful in her attempts to escape. The brightness of the blank yellow walls of the room stood in stark contrast to the black walls that were still there yet this time she was not the only one who saw them and wasn’t the only one in the room either. A shadowy figure had been watching her all this time, standing so still that she may have mistook it for a statue, but it was odd to have a statue in the room? Strange, can anyone ever be this stock-still? she thought. It was when she gazed at him, that he moved ever so slightly and trudged towards her.

The hoarse voice immediately spoke as it neared her, “We need to get you out of here, but you need to take those walls down” he calmly said, before moving to remove the leather straps on her wrists that bore into her skin. The flickering of the light overhead annoyed her but she managed to glimpse a sight of his hair that danced across his blue-grey eyes. His head was bowed down, hands carefully working their way on the straps. What was this feeling she thought, relief? or was it a trap? either way he didn’t seem to be bothered by the structures around them. How could he even tell they were there? She had never created this illusion before. She remained puzzled at this stranger before her, but decided against saying anything. She knew she couldn’t outrun him or anyone, she had already tried that, so she gave up. Slumping back onto the bed, she closed her eyes and visualized the black walls vanishing. Her stranger didn’t look up, but instead ran his hand down her arm, for any signs of the Tracker, finally resting his warm fingers at the end of the palm as if to check for a pulse. With one swift moment and pursed lips, he reached inside his back pocket to retrieve a clip point and head still bowed muttered, “This will sting a little”, cut across the wrist, digging in to remove a small piece of steel which he crushed and tossed with the other hand. She turned her head sharply, biting her lip over the pain and he quickly wrapped a ragged piece of cloth around the cut, finally looking up at her. She saw him then, there he was with a long face and high cheekbones, shadowed blue eyes, thin dark eyebrows and a turned up nose. She noticed how he had bitten lips and a visible scar on the right cheek. His hair was a mop of smoky black that was just above the shoulders. He was wearing a crisp white shirt under a red velvet waistcoat, hidden under the lab coat with the name tag that read Dr. Kelsi. “You’re not the doctor?” she finally asked, peering at him.

He only smirked and began surveying the room as if to check if all the walls had been taken down and once satisfied returned to help her out. She was so shaken, he observed. Her chestnut brown hair that must have been tightly wound up as a bun could now be seen loose and hanging, tangled in places where the bedpost was. Her skin was flushed and faint spots dotted her face, and her lips were visibly marked with bruises, perhaps from biting them out of fear. He looked around more, his eyes settling at last on a chair in the far corner of the room, next to a small oak table that held a lone thin vase with a dried blue iris. A single purple button down blouse and white tie that had coffee stains on them was folded neatly at the back of the seat, but that was not what caught his attention. Pieces of a burnt paper were stuck under the shirt collar and he carefully ran his fingers over it to remove the piece. Holding it up, he could only discern the bold letters Rebel 85 stamped on it and turned to look at her inquiringly. When he saw that she was just as surprised, he quickly pocketed the note and returned by her side.

“What was that?”, she asked, pointing in the direction of the seat to ask if there was anything else of importance in there, but he only shook his head and exhaled, “We can’t discuss it here, let’s get out of here first before they come in. I know a coffee place downtown and anyway it looks like you will need something better to drink and a fresh set of clothes”. The duo crept out of the room into the corridor of the hospital, watching the group of nurses who were huddled in the corner be completely unaware of their escape, and walked off towards the direction of the fire exit.

He looked sideways, one hand ready and hovering over the back pocket where his clip point was while he kept the other on the handle, and pushed the doors open, “come on”, he said in his thick accent and she hesitantly followed.

“Sir, we have visual on hospital 17,” the technician said, looking towards the Leader.

“Map it up”, he man replied, his eyes now fixed on the hologram before him. “Zoom in on the clip point there”, he pointed at a corner of the screen grab and then peered at the frozen image, “Watch him, I want full reports on where he goes and who that girl is. Also, get V-9 in here.”

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