"WHEN ITS TIME FOR SOULS TO MEET —
there's nothing on Earth that can prevent them from meeting, no matter where each may be located."
ANITA BATH
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She was running, whoever she was, her legs burned as the frigid air whipped against the bare skin of her legs. Her eyes were shut as flashes of pictures invaded her brain making it hurt. She was confused and her head hurt with the pictures of a family and blood. It pounded and there was so much noise, it felt like there were millions of people talking over one another just inside the confined space of her mind, all yelling no, screaming for her to find him. Whoever he was. All of a sudden the voices stopped as she stopped outside an old cheap-looking apartment building. All of her was attracted towards the building that was falling apart at the seams. Slowly and cautiously she walked forward opening the jammed oak door and walking into the deep yellow-lit room. A petite woman was sitting behind a dark olive desk, her hair tied back in a tight high ponytail that made her head hurt just looking at it. She was wearing a plum, cropped t-shirt with a dangerously low v neck accompanied by a pair of plain black pocketed leggings.
"Hello ma'am, how can I help you?" she asked, the annoyed tone of her voice didn't quite reach the rest of her face as she smiled at her professionally. The voices started up again screaming a name into my ears. 'James!' She closed her eyes as she stayed by the door.
"I'm looking for a man called James? Do you have him in your residence?" her own voice echoed through her ears as she tried to push the voices away.
"Yes, we have one James currently staying with us, room 417, 13th floor." the woman said passing a small brown key across the desk while turning back to the ancient computer and typing away. She slowly approached gripping the key and turn towards the elevator, it was small and looked like it was being held up by a string. She looked at the elevator and cringed deciding instead to make the trek up the 13 flights of stairs. She jogged up the stairs easily without even breaking a sweat take a few breaks when the flashes got too much, or when the voices got too loud she couldn't see. After several breaks she finally made it to the desired floor, hoping the voices would stop when she found the James her head couldn't stop yelling about. Making it to the door, she lifted the key in her palm to the door but her hand wouldn't stop shaking. So she decided to knock. A soft tap tap tap was placed on the door by her shaky hands. Almost immediately after she tapped on the door her body when into panic mode, she was scared? But why? Who was this James? Why was she scared of him? Why was she- who was she? What even was her name? The sound of several locks clicked and then the knob of the door turned. It was swung open and a man with long deep chocolate locks appeared on the other end, then it happened. It all clicked in her head. Her vision went white and her body felt heavy, her stomach flipped until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her.
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"Хорошая работа, солдат, ее генетика идеально подходит для твой. Ваши копии будут идеальным вариантом." ("Good job, soldier, her genetics are perfect for yours. Your copies will be the perfect option) A voice came through my ears, he had what seemed to be a heavy Swiss accent but spoke perfect Russian. I slowly flicked my eyes open to find the face that matched the voice. Curious was an understatement, but my eyes throbbed so bad at the light I felt like a fucking vampire, hissing in pain before I could survey the room. After regaining my sight, I was able to look around the large but dingy room, there were 4 men in the room two in front of me and two by a steel door with several locks on it and what looked like human claw marks. Damn. "Твоя жена присоединяется к нам теперь солдатом." (Your wife joins us now as a soldier) That was the voice again. He was a short, pale man with a fair amount of meat on his bones. His chocolate eyes looked dark, deadly, and sadistic, but I could tell they used to hold kindness and innocence. That was an easy differentiation between true psychotic fucks and the wingmen, even if they both held the same mellitus glint in their eyes the wingmen always held fear. Even if it was pressed deep, deep down the eyes always gave it away. I could sense that the love for human life and innovation was manipulated into a need for control and evolution and all this achieved by a large amount of threats and diminishing of his image. Usually wingmen are driven to what they do by others, and clearly this man was put down and led to believe he was nothing and worthless for so long he snapped. A fucking shame if I do say so myself because this guy looked really smart. The second man was much taller and heavily built. He definitely fit the description of a soldier but not just in statue. This man had a far away, haunted look in his eye only a solider could hold, and one that only a soldier could notice. His hair was short but grimy, but I could imagine that under all the dirt and grease there was probably a beautiful head of soft chestnut-colored locks. His shoulders were broad and strong and he had a, metal arm? It was silver with a bright red star at the shoulder. His eyes looked pained yet void, he had the most gorgeous azure eyes, they were so bright and looked like behind a thick layer of darkness they held such love and happiness. I could fall in love with those eyes. "Hello, lovely. I'm so very glad you could join us. My name is Doctor Arnim Zola." And here I thought he had a heavy Swiss accent in Russian but when he spoke English there was no denying it.
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A Troubled Mind
Fanfiction"She wore a troubled past like wings- she had been through hell, and though no one could see her demons, they could see the face that conquered them." -ATTICUS In which two souls find each other during trying times, they lean on each other for suppo...
