Author: Andelon PM
It's 2135. Humans are genetically evolving and gaining abnormal abilities. Those who are too powerful are ostracized and kept in a limited state, including the daughter of the most powerful man among mankind. An alien Soliad race is threatening to dissolve mankind and there's only one person who can defeat them. The problem is she's not fighting for anyone. Not even her father.Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Adventure - Chapters: 6 - Words: 12,298 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 03-13-13 - Published: 06-09-12 - id: 3030615
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"So, tell me about your latest dream last night. What did you...see?"
"I don't like talking about my dreams."
"...I don't want to talk about them."
"We're trying to help you. We can't if you keep things from us. You do understand, do you?"
"You were hired by my father. Not me. I could care less about these meetings."
"I don't want to talk, okay? Would you just leave me alone?"
Dr. Helen Thomas sighed and sat back in the dark leather chair that gave a small creak as she crossed her legs. Scottish red hair fell over her eyebrows as she flung her reading glasses from her eyes and placed them on the glass coffee table between them.
The youth in front of her was…all trouble. She wanted to help her, get her back on her feet so she could go back to school, finish her senior year, then go to college, get a degree and then spend some time trying to find a job. If someone would hire her...
"Samantha, I don't know why you're denying valuable help. I'm trying to help you."
"You're wasting my time and yours by making me sit down in front of you and tell you my dreams. I told you, I'm not talking."
Helen sighed again and took a glance at the tablet beside her. A flow of data appeared before her eyes in a spray of yellow, blue, green, black, and blinking fire red text. A photo shot up of the girl in front of her named Samantha Contador. In the photo, she was a pretty, young girl with gently curled brown locks that fell past her shoulders to her forearms. Piercing, luminous hazel eyes with silver tints. The eyes of a Soliad.
The real individual, however, was the image of self-inflicted terror with dark circles under darkened hazel eyes and flailing hair hiding flawless, smooth, olive skin. It was cut just to the tops of her shoulders, flowing in gentle, ebony waves. Samantha Contador played nervously with her fingers, not even looking up to check the time on the wall in front of her.
The red flashes soon caught Sam's attention, but only for a moment. They didn't mean anything to her, but to Helen, they were supposed to mean that she was with a very dangerous person. She had to watch out for this girl. Sam was dangerous, very, very dangerous and should be monitored at all times. That's why the guards who came with the girl made them move into Helen's glass office, where they could see Samantha's every movement. They were armed. A security violation overridden by this girl's father.
"How old are you, Samantha?" Helen asked.
"Eighteen," she muttered.
"Your father told me that your dreams were the cause of your...condition."
"A common mental illness we call depression. I'm sure you're heard of it."
Samantha rolled her eyes. "Of course I've heard of depression. I'm not stupid."
"Never said you were, Sam. Can I call you Sam?"
The girl shrugged.
"Okay, Sam. So, tell me about your father."
This was the first time Sam looked at Helen, and for some reason the gaze sent spine curling shocks down Helen's spine. It was a very odd reaction, for she's seen this girl many times before. But her gaze was daunting…and terribly frightening.
"You know my father already."
"By name, but not personally."
"I hate my father."
Helen raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"This piece of information is surprising to you." Sam noted.
"Very. I thought…"
"Too many people make assumptions that I enjoy what my father did to me. They see me smile and graciously accept every single job that he gives me. The truth is that I hate him for it."
The girl stood and crossed her arms. "Are we done here?"
"No, Sam…talk to me. I can help."
The guards in the back shifted their positions.
"What makes you think you can help me?"
"You're young…and important."
"Important?" Sam's lips curled up in an awkward, fake laugh. "I'm not important. My father's just trying to get his crazy Soliad theory around through me. I'm not important."
Helen blinked, stunned at the girl's reaction. "Sam, you're probably one of the most important figures on the planet. I'm not sure how important you think you are."
Sam shook her head as the smile melted off her face. "No, I'm not important. Don't say that."
Helen looked at Sam closely. She leaned, putting her elbows on her knees. "Remember four years ago when your father first introduced you to the world?"
Sam's jaw hardened. "That was a mistake. He should've never done what he did to me. I already told you I hate him for ever making me into this…thing." She waved her hand in frustration.
"Why?" Sam pointed a straight, hard finger at the woman. "Because when you see me in the future, I will be the only person alive while everyone rots into the earth. I won't let myself be the only one to suffer for the cause of mankind just because I can withstand the damage of human fault. It won't pass with me. You may hate me now, but one day, you humans will call for help, and I will look down to you and say 'No.' Why? Because you humans have rejected me since I existed."
With that, Sam stormed out of the room, the guards parting to let her through. They scrambled to do something, but were afraid that she would harm them first.
Helen sighed once more and glanced at the table top once more. She closed the profile, ceasing the blinked red text.