“Please, did another woman come through the portal with me? Arial? Is she here?”
“Wo-man?”
I jab a finger to my chest. “Someone like me. Is she here?”
Silence. The lights in the room began to dim until there’s just enough glow for me to see my feet. Panic blossoms and claws inside my chest and up my throat. Just then an image pops up in front of me not unlike a movie projector. It’s a replay of my fight with the female creature. The video is shocking. My Assassin Krunch costume is on point, much more professionally made than what I’d crafted. The leathers look real instead of the faux stuff I used; the gauze arm wraps finely woven instead of cheapie fabric I got from the FabricMart. The metal work and embellishments gleam with fine craftmanship.
And my fighting skills are off the charts. Wait. I narrow my eyes to get a better look. Is that really me? The body shape is right, short, curvy, generous rear. But the hair is all wrong. I dig a hand into my hair to check.
What?
It’s short, falling just to the tops of my shoulders in bouncy, sleek waves instead of the long, thin braid I’d had it in before. The woman on the screen has flawless skin dotted with white freckles, and beautiful straight teeth. I have one front tooth that sticks out further than the other and I’ve never had a freckle in my life. I run a finger over my mouth. Holy crap. My teeth are smooth, even. Perfect.
The video of me—I think it’s me—moves like a trained killer. I’m swinging my sword around like I know exactly what to do with it. I’m fending off the female creature like she’s insignificant. I meet her blow for blow, and had I not tripped over a rock, I might’ve been able to take her.
The image closes with a replay of her driving the tip of her spear into my chest. I feel the pain as I watch it happen. Instinctively covering the wound with both hands, I continue watching with the sensation of being outside of my own body.
The white man pushes her away before the sword goes too deep. The footage ends. Another image pops up. It’s a still photo, not unlike an avatar, of me standing in the anatomical position dressed in my costume. The image rotates showing my entire body. My weapons are strapped to my thigh and my back. My thigh high leather boots are tightly laced. I look pretty kick ass if I do say so myself.
Except, that’s not me. It’s me, but it’s not. It’s an enhanced version… An illusion. A breath of disbelief leaves my throat. It’s almost as if I have become Assassin Krunch.
“Who sent you to assassinate the priest of tala fury?”
I shake my head. I can’t believe this is happening. Tears slam into the back of my eyes, my legs growing week. Putting one hand on the bed, I fall helplessly onto it and bury my face in my hands.
“This can’t be happening. This is just a hangover from whatever was in that drink.” Looking up into the blank room, I swallow hard. “I am not an assassin. I-I was dressed like one for fun, to role play. That’s all.”
“You were sent to kill the priest on his wedding day.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Why did you attempt to assassinate the priest of Tala Furi?”
“This is a misunderstanding!”
“From where did the portal bring you?”
I start to say Earth, but something stops me. If all of this is real, and I’m not hallucinating from something some ass hole slipped into my drink, then maybe I better watch what I say. If an honest to God portal brought me here, what’s to stop these creatures from using it to get to Earth?
“I don’t know. It was a glitch with my cell phone. Something happened with my phone.”
Where is my phone? I was holding in my hand as I flew through the psychedelic tunnel. Sure, it will be useless to me considering there won’t be service on an alien planet, but I have photos on it. Videos of me and Arial. My mother’s voicemail.
“Please, where is my phone? I really need it.” Desperation squeezes me. Those memories… oh, God, they might be all I have. “Please, I really need my phone.”
“Execute this intruder.”
The words drop like shards of broken glass. Bursting from the bed, I momentarily let go of the sheet. It flutters to my hips before I catch it, not that I really care. Execute?
“Wait! Please, don’t. I’m not trying to hurt anyone.”
Soft words sound overhead that I can’t quite make out. They’re not English and nothing about them is familiar. The tone, however, is something I recognize. It sounds like two men are arguing. Both are tense, but one’s voice rises higher than the other and commands more attention.
“My Priest, the King has ordered you under house arrest. I cannot allow you to —”
“Do not interfere. She has a signature that I must investigate.”
The wall in front of me fizzles away. The lights come back on, and the walls change from white to yellow. The floor dissolves from planking into some kind of concrete. A large window faces me where the wall had been. Two males stare at me. One is almost completely purple with long dreadlocks that snake and swirl at the tips. The other is the stark white male I encountered earlier. He’s regarding me steadily with those pure black eyes. He takes a step forward, straight through the glass and into the room with me.
