He had been working too hard, he know that. All of the people around him knew it. He could tell that his body was wondering down. He cought himself shaking his head to clear the cobwebs that were trying to trap him into sleep. He reached for the fifth, or was it the sixth, of his stimulant drinks in the last 2 hours. The monitors that blared reports around him, however, didn't stop sending him their information. He was compiling information for an upcoming operation, and had been at it for more than 48 hours. His office in the Tower was swamped with maps, documentation and spy reports. He closed his eyes, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
He closed his eyes for too long, he wagered. He continued to rub his bridge, finally finding the strength to open his eyes.
Upon opening his eyes, his senses screamed at him: There is something strange going on right here!
He looked around, speaking to himself, muttering quitely really. "I cannot explain what is going on right here." He shook his head, then grabbed the rest of the drink and downed it, ignoring the bitter and aweful taste. He looked around and then stood up. The computer AI deactivated the monitors for the moment, its internal process recongizing he was no longer reviewing the reports. Something, a smell, a gentle smell - a scent was on the air. He inhaled deeply, following it from his office into the great hall of the tower. His heart skipped a beat.
It was something he had not smelled in a long time; another lifetime! It was strange, familiar and distant at once. His extended senses couldn't place it, but the whispers warned.
I feel like there is someone watching. He thought to himself. Someone is listening.
He inhaled again. I am alone, and the scent surrounds me.
Someone, something...has found me. He spun around quickly, his body falling into a combat stance. His sanctum invaded by someone who should not be here. There is something in the air!
His senses screamed at him, and he turned sharply, facing a pillar near the staircase. Before he even opened his mouth...she stepped around. A ghost, a person of the past that he was for sure was dead long ago. He found his muscles go weak, his breath trapped in his throat. His senses overwhelmed his mind brutally, feeding him more information than he could rationally deal with.
Still, she stood there.
Just as he remembered her. The slave dress that he had picked out many years ago. His eyes told him that she was there, but his mind screamed other things. She approached on danty feet, her fingers moving through her hair to pull it back into a tail. Her blue eyes locked on his auburn gaze. The first generation collar that wrapped around her neck looked as beautiful as ever. As she approached, she dropped to her knees before him, not looking up. "My Master," she said quietly, but the tone boomed in his ears as a music that defined what beauty truly was.
There was no way it was her. Of all the people, she was the one that should have never returned. Regardless, the reality was, she was there before him, kneeling at his feet.
He closed his eyes for too long, he wagered. He continued to rub his bridge, finally finding the strength to open his eyes.
Upon opening his eyes, his senses screamed at him: There is something strange going on right here!
He looked around, speaking to himself, muttering quitely really. "I cannot explain what is going on right here." He shook his head, then grabbed the rest of the drink and downed it, ignoring the bitter and aweful taste. He looked around and then stood up. The computer AI deactivated the monitors for the moment, its internal process recongizing he was no longer reviewing the reports. Something, a smell, a gentle smell - a scent was on the air. He inhaled deeply, following it from his office into the great hall of the tower. His heart skipped a beat.
It was something he had not smelled in a long time; another lifetime! It was strange, familiar and distant at once. His extended senses couldn't place it, but the whispers warned.
I feel like there is someone watching. He thought to himself. Someone is listening.
He inhaled again. I am alone, and the scent surrounds me.
Someone, something...has found me. He spun around quickly, his body falling into a combat stance. His sanctum invaded by someone who should not be here. There is something in the air!
His senses screamed at him, and he turned sharply, facing a pillar near the staircase. Before he even opened his mouth...she stepped around. A ghost, a person of the past that he was for sure was dead long ago. He found his muscles go weak, his breath trapped in his throat. His senses overwhelmed his mind brutally, feeding him more information than he could rationally deal with.
Still, she stood there.
Just as he remembered her. The slave dress that he had picked out many years ago. His eyes told him that she was there, but his mind screamed other things. She approached on danty feet, her fingers moving through her hair to pull it back into a tail. Her blue eyes locked on his auburn gaze. The first generation collar that wrapped around her neck looked as beautiful as ever. As she approached, she dropped to her knees before him, not looking up. "My Master," she said quietly, but the tone boomed in his ears as a music that defined what beauty truly was.
There was no way it was her. Of all the people, she was the one that should have never returned. Regardless, the reality was, she was there before him, kneeling at his feet.