to chase away the monsters

Chapter 2

"What is happening?"

Amanda grabbed the rail on the wall for some support as her legs gave out in the moment the lights turned red. Pulling herself up she met with her wide-eyed self in the wall mirror. She immediately looked up and ducked away from under the vent.

Was she on Sevastopol? Did she ever leave? It was the same orange-red emergency light. She couldn't decide. Her brain, flushed with memories now, forced her mucles to work. To get ready to crawl and whack and run away and into a nonexistent safe place.

Wright on the other hand had her stoic expression on, checking her watch as if she lacked an inner clock. She was just programmed that way, showing boredom when people around her got excited as a way to neutralize the overall mood. But now Ripley just wanted to bash her skull in. Not out of hate, but out of sheer habit.

No, it's not her, it's not the synths, Amanda reminded herself.

"Ripley please take deep breaths and remain calm. I know this situation is hard on you, but you must remain calm. It's just a power outage."

"It's never just a fucking power outage" she hissed. She needed to get out and get out now. They were close to the desired floor, all she needed was to open up the maintenance panel and bypass the door, that way-

"Ripley!" Wright shouted and put a firm hand on her shoulder. The lights were back to normal. The elevator rebooted.

"My deepest apologies, Miss Ripley" a voice cooed as the elevator door hissed open to reveal the executives' suit. A tall, blond man, an ancient David model stood nonchalantly in the hallway. Now that was a face Amanda was just dying to ruin. Last time she was there the robot almost laughed at her for expressing her anger about the secrecy of her condition.

"You are just a pawn, Miss Ripley. Clearly you can't see the bigger picture" he said back then and the way he looked at her made it obvious, that his smugness hasn't been re-calibrated since then. Robots like these gave other synthetic people a bad name. They were almost programmed to be arrogant, to look down on anyone who was too low in WY's food chain.

"You know where to stick it" she finally answered, heading to the conference room. There she could see the three men sitting around an oval marble table and one standing at the wide glass window, showing his back. She halted as the man turned around, he had Samuels' face. His fucking face. It made her stomach turn.

"Greetings, Amanda" he smiled and stepped forward. His uniform was freshly washed and ironed. A hint of a familiar cologne lingered in the air, mixed with the smoke of a recently cut cigar.

"What is this?"

"Please calm down Ripley, your heart" Wright reminded her, but she was too shocked to care. It was a lie anyway, the back of her mind reminded, but even that did not matter in the presence of a ghost.

Amanda switched her gaze between the Samuels model and the execs. Her mind racing. That model didn't have a single scratch, not a single burn. It was impossible, he couldn't have been the same man she had as a friend.

"We thought it would be a smart idea to assign an emotional support droid to you. A service dog, if you will" one of the men said, chewing on the cigar in his mouth. Rich pig even laughed.

"Smart idea my ass. You know damn well..." she started, but couldn't finish. The anger in her was just too much, her body could not contain the hate she felt. Hate for them, hate for that synth, hate for the whole damn place.

"How are you feeling, Amanda?"

"Bloodlust, I feel bloodlust" she spitted without thinking. She had so many conversations with the man inside her head she forgot it was only a fantasy about honesty. Chris wasn't really there.