Focal Point

Prologue

Kirra Faye moved quietly through the dark shadows of the hotel's interior. She felt her warm breath on her arm, as she reached above her head to a ledge that was slightly jutting out of the wall. She gripped it and very slowly and quietly pulled her body up until she was sitting on it.

Her head jerked to the right as footsteps, high heel clicks, to be exact, shattered the quiet atmosphere that had settled down around her. She sucked in a silent breath and held it. Knowing that whomever was looking for her would hear or see her breath, and find her. And she couldn't let that happen. The clicks stopped right under the ledge and Kirra Faye scooted as far back as she could, making no noise. It seemed as if she waited for hours, holding her breath, her legs beginning to cramp from holding such a tight position. And just before she thought she might die of lack of oxygen the heels clicked away.

Kirra Faye took a deep breath and tried to not pant as her body caught up the lack of air. She knew that she couldn't sit on this ledge forever, so slowly she in straightened her legs and began to shimmy up the wall. The wall was made up of rock. Lots of uneven rock. There was plenty of ways to climb, and she found a foothold and easily scaled the wall.

She reached the ceiling and pushed at a loose tile that she knew would be there. Mentally she cursed, a word she shouldn't know, when it didn't budge. She tried again...nothing. Then from the corner of her eye she noticed a piece of the tile off centered about four feet down. It made sense now, she was just a little off. She stealthily moved over those four feet and pushed at the tile. It popped up and she pulled herself up, just as someone came jogging through the empty hallway.

Her eyes widened and she flipped her head back down and peered into the bright green eyes of her ten year old companion.

" Damien!" She said, in an exasperated tone, "12 minutes! 12!!"

He smiled sheepishly as the room lit up and people filled all the space. Coming from hidden doors and panels in the floor, as well as the open doorways. Kirra Faye sighed, picked up a rope that had been left right by the tile and slid down, landing in a crouch. She stood straight and tall and shook out her shoulders and neck as the crowd parted and He came waking through.

Black skin, shaved head, big muscled arms. Yes, she was ready for this.

" Kirra Faye," he began, " you are almost ready for the Real World."

She was eight years old.