Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64938 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Each time was easier, and every score was higher than the last.
Grace sat alone in a room designated as a silent space, playing a virtual game of chess with a computer program designed by professors at one of the highest-ranked computer tech universities in the country.
It was said to be unbeatable.
Grace was on his seventh round of beating it tonight and was beginning to get bored.
Checkmate.
He sat back in the chair and rolled his eyes, needing more of a challenge.
It was past midnight, and he should’ve been in his apartment resting, but his latest injections must’ve contained immeasurable amounts of caffeine or something because he was having a harder time shutting down after his daily training.
Grace powered off the computer and killed the lights. It was pitch-dark, but he could still see.
The room was supposed to be soundproof, and no one was permitted to be in the Browns’ restricted area, but Grace could hear…feel…that someone was nearby.
The hall was dark, with not even an exit sign to illuminate the long corridor.
He stood motionless behind the door and stared out of the floor-to-ceiling glass wall.
The brown hood of his lightweight tunic—that he was required to wear at all times—rested across the bridge of his nose, but it didn’t hinder his visibility. With his enhancements, he was able to see no matter how low his hood was.
With each second that passed, his pulse quickened, and it was the most stimulation he’d had in months.
Grace’s heart was almost in his throat when the silhouette of another hooded man walked by, then stopped a couple of feet past the door he stood behind as if he could feel Grace too.
The other man’s breaths were barely audible. Now, they increased to the point that Grace could hear not only his breaths but the other man’s heartbeat through the steel door.
“I can hear you too,” the stranger whispered before he proceeded down the hall and disappeared through a door marked Restricted Personnel Only.
Who the fuck was that?
Mirage
Mirage lay on the new mattress he’d ordered to replace the soft one he’d been given, thinking about the man who’d been behind the door of the silent suite.
Mirage had been sneaking down to the lab for the last few weeks, investigating the foreign elements in the serum that altered his neurophysiological states.
The doctor and scientist in him couldn’t ignore what they were injecting into his blood.
He liked the physical enhancements, but a part of him didn’t want his emotions fucked with. Mirage felt too much. He sensed others too deeply.
And he never wanted to erase his love and admiration for his parents.
The pain of their deaths was still there, though not as debilitating as before. He could tolerate the memories and look back on them with gratitude for the many good times they’d had.
Mirage was positive his parents, who believed in healing lives, not taking them, wouldn’t be happy with his new profession. But maybe he’d do a job that resulted in saving a life or even a country, and they’d smile down on him with pride.
Another few weeks passed, and despite Mirage’s continued late-night trips to the laboratory, he hadn’t seen the man who’d made his heart race, but somehow, he knew he was still around.
Somewhere lurking in the darkness.
Mirage stood in front of the window, watching the city go by while consuming his third microwaved meal in the last hour.
He wasn’t an overeater, so he assumed his body needed more sustenance to maintain the energy he was exerting every day in training.
The phone in his apartment, with no keypad, rang. It was one of two people: the managing scientist from the lab requesting he come in for analysis or the same female voice he assumed operated in an administrative capacity because she never said hello or engaged in pleasantries. She did her job and hung up.
“Speak,” he answered.
“You’re required on brown floor five, suite two,” the female instructed, and then the line went dead.
He threw out the rest of his Salisbury steak and potatoes with the little chunks of ice in the center and went to his bedroom to change into his black joggers, Jordan tennis shoes, and a chestnut-colored oversized hoodie.
Mirage left his condo and made his way to the elevator.
He rounded the corner on the Browns’ unit. He’d been in a few rooms on this level for assessments and testing but never to suite number two.
When he passed room four, he picked up a familiar feeling. One he couldn’t forget if he tried.
Mirage stopped and inhaled a deep whiff of vanilla and rich leather. The same fragrances he’d caught outside the silent suite.
He turned in a circle, but no one was there.
Where are you?
His heart rate increased…again. It was an unfamiliar sensation as not much got him excited anymore.
It felt a bit odd but not unwelcome.