Instinct - Season 1

Episode 7

"Just like your mother." A man in dark glasses and a black business suit walked around the chair where Candace was seated. Her wrists were bound behind her, and her ankles were strapped to the chair. A throbbing resonated in her shoulder, and she desperately wanted to move it.

More than anything, confusion gripped her mind as she tried to make sense of what was happening. A large metal door creaked open behind where Candace was sitting, and slammed shut moments later with a thud. A boy around Candace's age in a long sleeved button up shirt appeared on Candace's periphery and approached the man slowly. A grin took shape on his face as he observed Candace's grimace. Candace thought she recognized the look in the boy's eyes. It was one she had seen many times in the mirror. Fear and frustration mixed with hope and faith. Candace immediately despised the boy. Either he pitied her and was too cowardly to do anything about it, or he was part of the very thing she was fighting to destroy. As for the man, she felt nothing. Maybe it was because there was obviously nothing worth saving in the dark eyes behind those glasses, but as for the boy, he was young. He, like her, had a choice to make in this battle.

"Who's she?" The question was directed to the large man that stood at least a foot taller than the boy.

"A traitor." The man replied with annoyance. It seemed the man had dealt with "traitors" like her before. There was no surprise in the boy's eyes, just the resignation to the cruelty of routine.

"Where am I?" Candace threw every ounce of bravery and confidence she had left into those three words. Her lips trembled and her gut clenched, but she did her best to remain composed. She had no hope of getting a true answer, and deep down she knew that, but she needed to ask. She needed to have a sense of being. Maybe if she could hold on to some idea of the situation she was in, she might be able to wiggle her way out of it.

"Why, you're home," the man replied with a hint of a smile. Home. She didn't doubt that she was back in the Order's hands where she started, but she now saw a different side of them. Reality betrayed the image of stability and nobility that she remembered from her dreams. Her memories had slowly returned to her in her sleep, but they were broken. To Candace, they didn't seem real. It was no longer the life she lived. This was not her home.

Part of her desperately wanted to break free and run as far as she could, but this man knew about her. His words echoed through her mind, Just like your mother. She did not have enough awareness before to truly make sense of it, but now they hit her like a freight train. He knew who she was. He knew what she was. The truth seemed so close she could taste it. Maybe something good might come out of this. Something she had been striving for from the moment she woke in the hospital next to Petunia.

"Where. Am. I." Candace repeated defiantly. Without warning, the man's hand flew towards her with blinding speed. The sharp pain shocked Candace, but there was an underlying feeling to the pain that Candace couldn't quite place. It made a chill go down her spine, and her stomach churned as if she might vomit. He smiled knowingly.

"That didn't feel so good, did it?" He touched her hand. Was she imagining the spark that flew from her fingertips? Candace shuddered from the pain. She began to feel lightheaded, and the voices from outside the room seemed much louder. It was as if her senses were becoming overloaded. She closed her eyes to shield them from the penetrating light coming off from the tall lamp in the corner of the room.

"Dad..." The boy said as he stepped closer to the man. His fathers eyebrows shot up as if questioning his son's ability to stomach what he was doubtlessly about to do. He drew a long thin blade out of his right breast pocket. Candace cringed as the man touched the knife to Candace's right temple.