Page 16 of Anarchy Chained: Alpha Thomas

She’s confused again.

“Darling?” I say. “A name?”

She shakes her head.

“You don’t have a name?”

“I do,” she says, letting out a sigh at the same time. “But I don’t understand what’s happening. I… can’t remember why I’m here.”

“You… presumably work here?” I ask, trying to be helpful. “You’re wearing a uniform.” Her name tag says Phil, but she’s definitely not a Phil.

She looks down at her clothes in horror. “What the hell?” Her wide eyes meet mine again. Yes. A very pretty yellow-brown color. Strikingly unusual. “Am I bleeding? Do I have a concussion? Am I halluci—” She stops. “Halluci—”

“Hallucinating?” I offer, again. Just trying to be helpful.

She takes a deep breath. Her lips move, silently counting to three. Then she lets the breath out.

“You’re not bleeding. I don’t know why you’re not bleeding, since everyone else in this room was knocked to the floor. But you seem fine to me.”

Something changes in her. A panic. A moment of pure… fear. “I need to get the fuck out of here. I have no idea what I’m doing. I have no clue how I got here. I don’t even know my name!”

I step forward and take her hand. “Now, now. Don’t worry. We can leave if you want. I just need to grab something from the other room.”

“The other room?” She turns to look behind her.

“Oh.” I’m genuinely disappointed. The other room is mostly gone. Blown to bits. “I was hoping to grab that suit.”

“Who are you?”

“Thomas,” I say, placing her hand on my arm. “You just said my name.”

“No,” she says. “No.” More forcefully this time.

Well, she’s one of the inmates, obviously. That’s too bad. I haven’t been laid in months. I had a little spark of hope there for a second. But clearly, I will be leaving and she will be staying behind.

“It was nice meeting you, whatever your name is. But look, I’m sorta busy today. So I gotta run. Cops are gonna come and—”

Sure enough, there’s sirens downstairs.

When I look back at the girl she’s… flickering. Like… seriously, flickering into other people before my eyes.

One second she’s a man, then she’s an old woman. A few flickers of that and she’s a young woman wearing a different uniform.

“What the fuck?” I ask.

She shakes her head and rubs her eyes.

“What was that?” I ask.

She stares at her feet for a moment, then slowly brings her eyes up to meet mine. “I’m a level ten.”

“Are you?” I ask, jutting my head back in surprise. “A level ten what, exactly?”

“Hallucinal—” She shakes her head again. “Delusional.”

I laugh. “Yes, darling. I think you are quite right about that. You are definitely level ten delusional. Now, as much as I’d like to hang out with you, possibly fuck you crazy and then drop you off somewhere, never to see you again, I’m gonna have to move along now. I’m not into the psychotic ones. They’re more trouble than they’re worth.”

“Illusional,” she spits out with some effort. “No. Illusionist.” She smiles with relief. Like she just solved the biggest puzzle ever. “Yes. I’m an illusionist.”

“A level ten… illusionist?” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Not possible.”

But then she flickers. And for five whole seconds, she becomes me.