The Infinity Project

Waking up in a hospital, being spoon-fed lies be her mysterious captors, being stuck with a group of teenagers, with no memories of her life before, but flickering remnants of a car crash. Things aren't looking good for Kira. On top of that she has to deal with sudden powers, and a mysterious dark force that has taken hold of her.
With betrayal looming at every corner, can Kira save herself and her friends, or die trying?

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11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

 

 

I'm kind of disappointed when I open my eyes. Not at what I see, but at the fact I'm awake—alive. 

As my vision comes to focus, I realize two things. One, I'm on a couch, a blanket hastily thrown over me. Two, my aches are gone. I stare at the ceiling above me, and when I try to move, I realize the pain is far from over. 

I yelp, then swallow hard as a blush of embarrassment involuntarily creeps up my cheeks. I cannot puzzle out what has happened to my, all my memories are flitting and fragmented, none are solid enough for me to cling onto and demand answers. 

Collapsing in the street. The first thing that comes to mind. Then slowly, piece by piece, the memories come back. Like a stained glass window, slowly, colourful fragment after fragment, returning, to form a beautiful, gruesome picture. A picture that depicts fire and death, and demons and betrayal. 

What a picture that is. I am lost in thought, trying to sort out every single different ache and pain. I am so distracted, so deep within my own mind, I do not hear the woman’s approach. 

“You awake?” She asks, in an accent I can't quite place. I was never good with accents, and in my dreary state, I doubt I would even be able to recognize my own country’s signature speech. 

“Ess,” I rasp, my throat dry as a desert, my mouth feeling like it's full of sand. I try to ask what happened to me, but my words are swallowed up by a coughing fit. 

“Let me fetch you some water,” she says absentmindedly, and waddles off. I study her from afar, able to distinguish key features, even through this haze of exhaustion, dehydration and starvation.

She's short and rather plump, with greying ash blonde hair. She wears a pale pink pantsuit, and waddles with the grace of a drunken duck. When she turns around, carrying a glass of water that sloshes precariously, I see that her eyes are warm brown. 

“Thanks,” I mutter as I take the water, gulping it down so fast I could've broken a world record for drinking water. “Thank you.” 

“Oh, it's no problem! I saw you passed out on the street and assumed you were another person drop dead drunk, yet I smelled no alcohol on you. I knew immediately I needed to help you.” The lady explains. 

“Thank you, for that. My name’s Kira.” I twirl a piece of my dark brown hair around my finger, trying to unknot all the tangles. And my hair is positively matted. 

“Mrs. Summers, but you can call me Sunny.” The woman introduces herself. I choke back a laugh. Sunny Summers. As if seeing my amusement, Sunny adds; “Sunny’s not my real name. A nickname for my bright personality.” 

“Thank you so much, for taking me in.” 

“It's nothing, just basic human compassion. You could've died out there, it was the right—the only—thing to do.” Sunny answers, brightly. I see where she got her nickname. “And you're looking rather dirty, I'll show you to the shower.” 

“Thank you,” I say again, trying to remove myself from the blankets that had somehow become entangled around my limbs. I gracelessly slide off the couch, all the blood in my body rushing to my cheeks in a furious blush. 

I follow Sunny to the bathroom, gratefully accepting a towel. I turn on the water and let it pour down over me, washing away the memories. 

Despite the terrible desire to let it all go, let the memories burn away with the scalding water tumbling down over my skin, I know I have done terrible things. I am a monster, black blood flowing in my veins. It comes back to me in bits and pieces, dreadful fragments fluttering up from the depths of my mind. 

The Blackness rises up with them, taking over my mind. Numbing the pain, filling my eyes with inky darkness. There’s nothing left, but the cool abyss and the scorching water running rivulets down my spine. 

The Blackness takes over; I welcome it.

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