Chapter 3: The Outside World

The fog crawled over the desert landscape, Miller found himself in an area not unlike where he hitched a ride on the freight truck. Although, the place he was in had more foliage. Not to say that the greenery was all that green. The trees were shriveled and bare, the shrubs were more like a stationary ball of twigs and dead leaves.

The dirt between his toes rubbed against his skin like sandpaper as he slowly and cautiously ventured forth into the thick white air that lied ahead of him. He was confused, disoriented, and most of all, felt weak in his stomach. He knew he was outside, in an open space, but he felt so trapped and closed in. He couldn’t see anything that wasn’t at least a couple feet ahead of him. Not only that, he was alone, however, he had a sneaking suspicion that he may not be.

His chest rattled nervously, he didn’t want to keep moving forward, but his legs were moving independently from him. His head twisted in many directions, expecting to see something new, but it was to no avail. He kept breathing, but was unsure if he should be. He didn’t know what else to do, so he called out for help from the only person he knew who could help. “Sandra!? Sandra?”

Nothing.

Nothing, until a mighty elk galloped past him and suddenly the fog withdrew and the desert began to look far more familiar. “No! Not here. No no no…” the being whined as he wanted to crumble at the sight of the memory. His body refused though. His body chased the four legged animal. He could hear the cheers and encouragement of the scientists, all of them as a collective chanting on his chase.

A part of him felt exhilarated, though another knew the future of the situation and was trying all he could to prevent it. He was trapped though. His body was not his own to control.

The biped did not have the incredible speed of the prey, but what the elk didn’t have was the impressive amount of stamina that Miller did, especially in his prime.

The race continued for what felt like years to Miller, however, it was quick to escalate by the end of it. His strides grew stronger as his quadruped opponent’s became weaker. His feet pounded away at the earth, causing tremors that tripped up the antlered animal. He was quick to take advantage of the creature’s weakness and tackled the beast to the ground. He pinned the furry animal down, looking back and waiting for further instruction and to impress his creators with his feat. It took quite a bit of time, during which the Miller that wasn’t in control attempted to apologize in every manner he knew how. He knew it was a fruitless endeavour and one that the creature would not understand anyway, but there was nothing he could do otherwise.

The mammal tried its best to escape from Miller’s grasp, but he was far too powerful and overtime the creature chose to accept it and wait for its impending doom.

The crowd of scientists revealed themselves eventually, swarming their way over to Miller’s position. He expressed a confused countenance, unsure of what the group wanted him to do next.

“Now finish the job, twenty three!” they all commanded in unison.

The command of his superiors were not settling the creature’s confusion any more than before. Meanwhile, the Miller that knew the future of the situation wanted to plant his face into the crook of his elbow, but was unable to avert his vision in any way shape or form. The Miller that was in control, however, deduced what the men wanted out of him and began to perform just that.

The gaze of the hunter and the prey locked, the mere look of their eyes matched more than Miller would like to admit. The sword mounted on his arm sunk into the meat of the beast, the feeling of which Miller would love nothing more than to forget. The elk crying out in agony overshadowed the supportive shouts that his over watchers gave.

It was then that Miller leapt out of unconsciousness, his forehead crashing into the box spring’s metal foundation above him. The behemoth massaged his new bruise, wiping away some of his cold sweat in the process (which surprisingly hadn’t vaporized into steam considering the consistent heat of Sandra’s room).

His breaths were heavy, as though the sprinting he had done in his dream had translated into real life.

He peered around, to assure himself that he was still in the same place he was when he fell asleep, which was like dumping a bucket of relief on him when he realized he was. Although, it also caused his vision to fall upon his blade. His face turned livid, his revisited memory still fresh in his mind. He clawed at the area near his elbow where flesh and metal met, proceeding to tug and whack at it in a hopeless attempt to dislodge the weapon from his body.

‘Stop! We need that! We need the blade, we need something to protect us!’

“We-” he shook his head “-I don’t need it. I don’t want it either. Bad memories, nothing good comes from it. It hinders us- me more than anything” he continued under his breath, the most amount of noise coming from it was subtle squeaks.

‘It makes us stronger! You did not kill that animal, stop blaming yourself for it!’

“Yes, yes I did. I killed the animal, I felt it as the life was drained from it. The scientists may have commanded me to do it, but it was me that placed the blade in the creature. I will not shirk responsibility for it.”

‘No, we killed the animal. Blame us for it. We are a part of you, but we are not you. You can blame us, it’ll make you feel better about it. Once everyone knows we exist, no one will blame you for the murder of that creature. You will remain innocent of your sins, we will be your guise of evil. You can blame us, we can take the blame, and in turn we can do what needs to be done. You can still be innocent.’

“I can’t- won’t accept it. I killed the creature and that is why I will never harm another living being.”

‘You do not have a choice! It is inevitable that you must harm someone if you desire freedom! They will not just let you simply leave without putting up a fight. Let us take control, let us fight off our enemies and your innocence can still be spared. We will protect you.’

“If I let you take control, then I will just become the monster everyone already sees me as. Sandra has shown that people can accept me for who I am.”

‘Why do you care what the humans think? You said yourself that you do not wish to be a part of human conflict, then why do you care about fitting in with human culture? We are not like them, they are not like us. They don’t want us, we don’t want them. Even out of the box you continue to be the stupid creature you are. You will be the reason we get thrown back into the box!’

Miller clutched at his head and began to squint really hard “go away. GO AWAY!” he hollered, breaking his spree of silence.

“Yo, Franken-Hippie, you alright down there? Did you have a nightmare about the Death Bed again? If my bed was filled with stomach acid you probably would’ve been able to tell by now. I’m still not sure why you’re scared of that movie, it’s pretty boring” Sandra’s voice chimed in from above him. It was a preferred change of pace, like hearing an angel after chatting it up with the devil.

“I- yes. It not being real doesn’t mean it can’t appear in my dreams” the man nervously lied. “Is the coast clear? Can I come up there with you?”

There was a brief moment of silence, but eventually her voice reassured him. “… Uh, yeah I guess so. Just don’t get too close… I have to go out today and if my dad finds a long piece of black hair on me he might flip… or give me a pat on the back. Dad’s a weird guy.” She spoke rather hesitantly.

Miller didn’t care what manner of speech she used, he rushed out from beneath the bed skirt and sat next to his caretaker, his brief feeling of loneliness disappearing instantly.

She tossed him the other half of her bagel, though her eyes were still rather glued to her television. Miller caught it easily, though began to dissect the piece of food and closely inspecting it.

Once Sandra caught on to what the man was doing she rolled her eyes and gave him a look that only a disappointed mother could pull off. “Dude, f*****g crumbs on the bed. This is how we get ants” she pounded on her splayed hand with each syllable she spoke.

The blade wielder gulped and lowered his head, expressing an apology the same way that a puppy would.

Sandra shook her head and returned her view to the screen. “What? Do you think I poisoned it or something?” she asked while her head was turned away.

Miller had already sunk his teeth into the bread, nervously gazing back at Sandra, unsure whether he should further devour his breakfast or not.

Sandra sighed and looked back upon her house guest. “Okay, you should probably know the difference between my sarcastic voice and my normal voice by now. If not, I’ll give you a reference to each of them. This is my sarcastic tone. This is my normal tone. If I say something like this, it’s not true and don’t try to believe it is. Okay?”

She then proceeded to turn off the tube and hop off her bed, brushing herself off and heading towards her dresser. She plopped on a rather heavy looking jacket and slipped a couple of heat pads into her pockets. She then twirled about and presented herself to Miller, he twitched his head in a slightly off put manner since she was dressed for a cold winter’s night during the tail end of summer. It shouldn’t have surprised him though, considering the scorching heat of her room.

“Alrighty, so I left some snacks for you in the bottom drawer, I’ll be back in about four or five hours” she stated simply.

Miller still looked quite lost.

“You forgot didn’t you? I told you I have to leave to take a test today, like every day this week. Try not to freak out while I’m gone.”

“…Oh, that’s today”

“Yeah, thinking about it you probably don’t have a good reference for time. Sorry about that. You think you can handle being home alone?”

“…What if somebody comes home before you do?”

“If you get scared take the snacks and hide under the bed. And if my dad finds you then you should probably apologize for what you did to the left sleeve of his shirt…” she stated as her gaze fell upon Miller’s new attire. “You know, your creators should’ve probably planned to make that thing retractable, it is really inconvenient for everyday life.”

“I wasn’t really designed for everyday life…”

“Fair point. Anyways, I gotta go. Let’s see, I think I covered everything. Oh, if someone does come home make sure you turn off the TV if you decide to watch something. That and don’t watch that bed movie again, I’ll see you when I get back.” Sandra saluted the being and then walked out the door, closing it behind her.

 

Sandra’s Day

                It wasn’t too long after finishing up with Miller that Sandra was prepped to head out into town and go back to school for the first time in years. Before heading out the door, she ensured that she grabbed a nice thick pair of gloves that didn’t allow air to flow in or out all too easily. After that she hopped into her dad’s car and they backed out of the driveway.

Sandra was slightly concerned for her dog-like companion, her test not being a huge strain on her mind. It was the first time that she left him home alone, and if her life were a movie the next scene would be his creators showing up at her door after they finally tracked down where Miller was. It was a bit silly to think that it would happen, though the scientific creation showing up in her house was the biggest thing to happen in her life for a long time.

The car reached the highway fairly quickly, so they were set at a leisurely pace. Sandra’s dad was absently eyeing her for the past little while before he actually could divide his focus on his daughter.

“So, you haven’t come to talk to me yet this week. You gonna just keep delaying?” her mustachioed father opened up.

“Well, I had a test to study for” she answered nonchalantly.

The old man bit his hairy upper lip in a vain attempt to stop himself from laughing out loud. Sandra bit her lip and chuckled along as well.

“What? You think I can’t be a studifull student?” she continued still laughing under her breath.

“Considering your grades, it would be a warm welcome. I think you mean studious, by the way.”

“Well, look who’s been reading the dictionary.”

“I dabble with it on slow work days. Don’t confuse the subject though, let’s talk about you and Gordy.”

“It’s been years, hell, probably a decade by now since the incident, why should I do anything about it now?”

“Well, firstly, I don’t think you could articulate the best of apologizes back when you were five. None of us really had the knowledge of your… gift back then as we do now.”

“Yeah, needing to be warm all the time and exploding at random is a REAL gift…”

“Hey, when Santa Claus gives you a pair of socks it’s still a gift. Not a great gift, but a gift none the less.”

“That’s a rather poor analogy, isn’t it? My ‘gift’ is more so a box with a dead person’s head inside than a pair of socks.”

“You watch too many movies.”

“Hey, don’t blame me, blame the guy who provides them for me.”

“I did not buy you Seven.”

“Oh ho ho, that’s where you’re wrong. My eleventh birthday, I put it on my wish list.”

“Huh, that’s a pretty impressive…” mustache dad stopped for a moment and shook his head “You’re really good at derailing conversations.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Where was I? Yes, Gordy. He’s starting his last year of high school now, so he’ll probably be moving out soon. Now is a better time than ever to make amends.”

“Probably be moving out? He hasn’t decided yet?”

“…Sandra Breann Petric.”

“Ooo, Daddyo getting scary with the full name there. Fine. Why does it matter then? He moves out, he’s out of my life, he can still hate and fear me all he wants. I don’t give a f**k.”

“That’s not exactly a healthy way of handling the situation.”

“Look, everyone has their opinions, if his opinion is that I’m a scary walking time bomb, why does it matter? It doesn’t affect me.”

“He’s your brother.”

“Yeah, mom’s like that too. Have you seen the way she jumps for the fire extinguisher whenever I’m in the room?”

“Your mother is different. She still loves and respects you, she’s just scared.”

“That somehow makes her different from Gordy?”

“Look, all I’m saying is maybe if you try to work things out with him your mother will follow in suit. The way you act around them doesn’t make them feel any better about you.”

“Oh okay, I’ll just walk up to Gordy and be like ‘Oh sorry you were near me that one time I burned our house down, no hard feelings about that big a*s scar on your chest, right?’ Why is it that I have to apologize to him for something I couldn’t control?”

“I’ve talked to Gordy about this as well. You know how he feels? The same way as you do. The two of you have such thick heads, hey I don’t blame you, you both get it from your mother.”

Sandra silently snorted and replied “wow, way to throw your wife under the bus.”

“It’s true though, thankfully Rob is more level headed than the two of you.”

“Yeah, I have one brother that’s okay with me, isn’t that good enough?”

“I’m being serious though, Sandra. Sometimes you gotta let your guard down because if you have two thick heads going at it, the fight will never end. All it takes is one person to step back, assess the situation, and show the other person mercy. I’m not saying you’re in the wrong here, I’m saying that someone needs to take that step and it would be quite the turnaround if it was you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that I don’t give a rat’s a*s about what anybody thinks of me.”

The car stopped as they finally arrived at the school parking lot.

“You know who else didn’t care about the way anybody thought of him, Hitler.”

Sandra face palmed, though couldn’t help but to laugh at that comment. “Dad, you know that when you compare someone to Hitler you lose the argument?”

The rather large man folded his arms across his chest and let out a gruff huff. “Are you kidding me? He’s the perfect anti-role model. Now go kick some algebraic a*s out there.”

The little girl gave off a giant grin and hopped out of the vehicle, giving a bit of a head nod in acknowledgement, despite the fact that her test wasn’t on algebra. She enjoyed the line regardless and began to shuffle through her satchel of supplies.

She started to head down the parking lot, watching her dad’s car leave, she waved yet another goodbye and hollered “oh! Try not to get into a car crash and die, that inspirational speech might have doomed you!”

The mustached man halted his mustang and rolled down his window. “Will you become a superhero if I do?”

“No, I really don’t think so. I’ll probably just be morbidly depressed!”

“Ah, so not worth it, gotcha!” her father joked as he sped away.

“Man, that must be where I get my bad sense of humour” she mumbled to herself as she ventured into the school, her mind being on just about everything other than her test. What a good father, putting thoughts of reconciliation in her daughter’s brain right before an examination of her ability to regurgitate a textbook (or in her case, scans of a textbook). She was as confident in her intelligence as she was with anything she was randomly thrust upon. Even if she failed, she at least had the excuse of house breaking some sort of weird lab creature.

About an hour later, after Sandra had found the right classroom, signed in, and wrote out her test, she marched out the door gleeful as she could be. It wasn’t exactly a notion of being proud of her work, although she enjoyed her answers to each question equally, it was more so the feeling of freedom that inspired her mood. The class wasn’t too particularly big and the teachers knew well enough to keep her in a corner surrounded by some makeshift rubber walls. It was kind of like containing a bomb.

The cause for concern was understood by Sandra, it had been a long while since she last exploded, which luckily made keeping the secret from Miller all the more easy. The guy was jumpy just by the thought of her putting poison in his bagel, she couldn’t imagine how he would act if she told him that she was a human time bomb without a visible counter. He might even be inclined to run away.

She wasn’t completely sure that he would be aware of her… uniqueness, so she had to keep any information about her abilities away from him in the case that he might clue in. Besides, things had been going swimmingly between the two of them without her hinting him in. Perhaps she was putting Miller in the same dangers as Gordy, but they were two completely different people. Miller had already shown her that he can revert to stone or something (she didn’t quite understand it, but his skin transformed into a rougher and more solid version of itself, it looked somewhat similar to a pasty white stone, so she assumed that’s what it was) at a moment’s notice. If she ever feels the strange rumble in her abdomen she would warn him and duck and cover after that point. She ran the scenario through her head a couple times in the past. She felt a bit guilty about not telling him, and if it was anyone else she probably would have before offering them a place to sleep under her bed, but it being Miller she had to be delicate with him, like a butterfly. Of course, that didn’t stop her loudmouth and tendency to be rude, nobody’s perfect. She was controlling what she was able to control. Her powers were not exactly something she was chatty about, so she was easily able to avoid spitting out the truth of that.

She wondered what exactly she could be doing for the next couple of hours, before her dad would arrive to take her back home. Her stomach grumbled, which put her on edge for a second before she realised that she was just merely hungry. Thankfully, her belly was the epicenter for plot conveniences and to the cafeteria she went.

Much to Sandra’s liking, it wasn’t the high school’s lunch break, meaning there were plenty of empty tables to spare. Such a happy day, she was so anxious about there being huge crowds and yet she had yet to encounter one. Not that she would be socially incapable of dealing with it, she just hates being the wildcard in the crowd that may or may not explode and severely injure a ton of people.

She bought herself a lunch and sat in the area rather worry free for a good while.

She was lost in her thoughts as she scooped through the last bit of her pudding, mostly thinking about whether or not Miller would be doing fine on his own and what movie she should expose him to later that day. She was thinking to avoid the horror genre all together and perhaps focus on sci-fi and the like.

Just as she was running down her list of films, a rather obnoxious bell rang, indicating the next period would start. Sandra hoped that no newcomers would show up, but at least one of her hopes had to be crushed.

A handful of students began to sprinkle in, probably because of canceled classes or because they didn’t like what their current subject was. Either or, Sandra wouldn’t judge or care for that matter. What she did care about though was a group of teenagers (probably older than her) sitting at a table not far from her and began to babble to no end.

“Oh my god, Trixie. I just couldn’t do it today. I had confidence, but as soon as I passed Ms. Nora’s class, I just couldn’t” the brunette one complained.

As stated, she wouldn’t judge, but she definitely called the skippers right.

“I hear yah! That’s why I dropped that course the first week. History is so boring!”

Sandra attempted to enjoy the rest of her meal, though the trio next to her continued to squabble like clucking chickens. It was rather irritating, but she didn’t speak up. She would only be in school for a day, she might as well let them continue.

“Did you hear about Jon though? Carl dared him to steal a mirror from that haunted house! The minute he went in, he came screaming out! Apparently the ghost threw a chair at him!” The person Sandra assumed to be Trixie explained (she was the only woman in the group, so it was a rather easy deduction).

“Oh my god, that place is cray cray. I’ve never seen a single person exit that house without getting the piss scared out of them!” The brunette (Carl) spoke up again.

Sandra had never heard of the place they were talking about before. If it was truly haunted and what the ragtag group was saying was true then she was surprised that she had yet to hear about it on the news. That fact sort of limited the possibility of their word being legitimate, not to mention that she wouldn’t trust them regardless. Not that it mattered though, she had no plans of visiting that place.

As a new girl entered the scene, their topic of conversation was completely thrown off. Sandra wasn’t completely sure why, she didn’t look all that different from other teenagers she’d seen. Lean, tall, lengthy hair that basically reached her buttocks. She wasn’t dressed much differently either, so it wasn’t her style. The lonely schoolgirl sat herself down at the table furthest away from human life and began to fiddle with something in between her fingers.

“…That one’s a tool, right?” one of the chatty catties whispered when the girl was out of earshot. It was then that Sandra realised what was going on and rolled her eyes. If she wasn’t going to tell them to shut their mouths before, she might be forced to later.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure. I think her grandfather was like some sort of security guard or something.” Trixie answered, seeming to not care as much if the isolated student could hear her or not.

“Wow, why does she even go here? She’s already guaranteed a job. If I were her I’d say hell no to school and get straight to working. I mean what, is she stupid?”

“No, I think she stuck up. Doesn’t want to do that job AND get the benefits. This isn’t exactly the best time to become picky. Spoiled brat.”

Sandra whistled at the gang, her blood boiling from just merely hearing them speak. “Hey, f**k off. You don’t even know her” she snarled as soon as she got the attention of a majority of them.

“Better than you, she’s in our class. Back off, b***h.”

If it hadn’t been for her father’s words being in the back of her head, she would’ve pounced on them. Instead, however, she shot them a stink eye and proceeded to pick up her tray.

Luckily for Sandra, people like that had a tough time getting under her skin. She used to hang around clicks like that back when she was allowed in school (for more than brief moments anyway). In fact, she wouldn’t have been surprised if they were the same people as back then, well except for the fact that they probably would’ve remembered their favourite play thing. Such things were behind her though, as were the talkative trio.

Sandra slapped her tray down in front of the lone girl, her weak, yet inhumanly, vibrant green eyes gazing upon the stranger. She kept her mouth firmly shut, and just sort of nodded at Sandra. The finicky female looked like a deer in headlights, though her fingers worked away at some sort of pointy necklace charm. It looked as though she was stabbing herself with the sun-shaped object.

It was a bit of a peculiar scene, but after witnessing the weirdness that was Miller, the film buff could probably handle anything. “So I guess people stopped using the term SPITs, good that was always a stupid insult.”

“… Uh…” the girl slightly mumbled, her face still predominantly showing her innocence, but there was a slight twinge of befuddlement.

“Oh, you’ve never heard that one before? They used to use that one all the time when I was a kid, now it’s just tool. I mean seriously, SPIT never made much sense to me. I get that it’s supposed to be an acronym and insulting, but to me it just seemed like they came across the word and then tried to make it work as an acronym.”

The girl apparently found the floor incredibly interesting, either that or she was avoiding eye contact as hard as she could. Her hands were tightly wrapped around her necklace, squeezing it like a stress ball.

“Like seriously, Specially Powered Inhuman Tools. That’s just forcing it at that point. Technically we are human, and I guess I see what they were trying to go for by saying we’re not human, but overall it just seems kinda lazy.” Sandra further explained, however, she felt like she was speaking to a brick wall. She was beginning to think she might as well be. Her attempts at aiding the gazelle-like girl might be in vain.

Although, as Sandra used the inclusive plural forms of words, the bright eyed lady raised her head. “… Y-you are a… t-tool too?”

Sandra snorted at the comment, leaning back in her chair a bit. It was the only opening that the girl was offering, so she delved right into it. “Well, isn’t that a pleasant way to greet someone who was being nice to you” she spoke sarcastically as she held her laughing back for the moment.

The precautionary person peered back at the ground muttering an apology that only someone with supersonic hearing could pick up on. Sandra really needed to find friends that she could actually be sarcastic around, because she was really getting tired of having to hold it back so her opposite wouldn’t get offended.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. To answer your question though, er… Yes and no. It’s a bit complicated. Alright, let’s say that a powered person would be seen as a normal human baby, I would be like a normal human baby with a third arm. That is, if that third arm kept punching me in the stomach instead of actually being useful.”

“…Oh, you… you’re that mutant g-girl” the meekly maiden mumbled, seeming to be more engaged in the conversation.

Sandra swiftly propped her elbow onto the table, slapping a rather stupid grin on her face as she did so. “Ah, so you have heard of me. I’m guessing that I’m a big deal in the Aug community.”

“…A-Aug?”

“Wait, nobody uses the term Aug? Are we from the same universe?”

The meekly girl didn’t look like she knew how to answer that question because she seemed to be hailing from a universe where sarcasm isn’t a thing. She should really ask her if she knew Miller, they seemed to have a lot in common.

“Alright, you might have heard of me, but I’m guessing you don’t know me. I’m Sandra” she introduced as she splayed her hand out, waiting for the other young woman to give it a good shake. Subconsciously, it felt like a really terrible idea, so she had to reassure herself that she was wearing some sort of protection beforehand.

“Iris Frost” she stated in the most confident manner Sandra had heard the girl speak in yet, she was still shaking quite a bit in anxiety. On top of that, she was hesitant on completing the gesture, most likely because she was at least somewhat familiar with what Sandra was capable of doing. The spunky kid had to give her props though, she had a couple good attempts at trying to grab her hand.

“Don’t worry about the whole heat-sucking business, you’re safe so long as I’m wearing big fancy gloves.”

Once Iris was assured her safety, she gave a rather safe, yet weak handshake. Sandra had to do most of the work so that it didn’t seem like a stationary mid-air arm-wrestle.

“So you do trust me” Sandra replied with a raise of her brow.

The lanky lass nodded at a regular speed that most people would be moving at, if the world had suddenly gone in slow motion. The girl was so irregular and ghost-like that Sandra wouldn’t be surprised if the twist was Iris was the one haunting the house that the trio of teenagers were speaking of. Not to mention that she was still pricking the tips of her fingers with the charm on her necklace. Sandra could’ve sworn she saw crimson leaking from her thumb the third time around.

Her wondrous mind began to question if the other woman was a part of a cult and trying to summon a demon to save her incredibly anxious bodice. If it were true, she probably performed the ritual wrong.

“So, Iris Frost. Wait, does your power pertain to anything ice related?”

“… N-no.”

“Missed opportunity if you ask me.”

“… I, uh. I s-see colours… on p-people. I’m r-really s-sorry. I’m n-not good at explaining it…” she attempted to articulate, which really did seem like quite the struggle for her to let out.

Sandra’s jaw dropped, no film could have shocked her more than to see the lanky lady not only speak without being prompted to, but speak more than one sentence at a time. It was like watching a man in a wheelchair get up and walk, sure she stumbled a bit, but it was impressive none the less.

Iris observed her expression in a different manner and rebutted “I-I’m s-sorry if that fr-scares you…”

“No no, I’m just surprised you’re actually talking back to me. Seeing colours, that’s cool. What colour am I?” Sandra questioned, only since it seemed that her abilities were something she was somewhat comfortable in talking about.

“B-bright o-orange… some p-pink” she spoke as her vibrant green eyes stared down on Sandra’s body.

“Even my clothes?” Sandra asked curiously as she gazed down upon herself.

“…Y-yes. Anything y-you’ve been in c-contact with r-recently.”

“How recently?”

“T-two or… three d-days maybe. I-I don’t really k-know.”

“Okay, what about that guy over there?” she questioned as she pointed to the Carl kid at the other side of the cafeteria.

Iris very anxiously turned her head around to take a look at who Sandra was pointing at. She weakly answered with “I-I dunno, h-he just looks gray to me…”

“Holy s**t, I knew that a*****e couldn’t have had a soul.”

“N-no, I can o-only see c-colour on p-people I’ve m-met before…”

Sandra’s mouth shaped into an o, finally realizing that Iris’s ability wasn’t to just see heat signatures and putting an artsy spin on it, she actually saw people as peculiar colours. Either way, it didn’t change her plan. “Alright, get ready to meet him then. Those people have been talking s**t about you, and I’m not gonna just let you take” she spoke triumphantly and leapt out of her seat, readying herself for their march across the cafeteria.

“Uh… N-no. It’s o-okay if t-they’re… m-mean to me. I-I can s-sometimes be b-bothersome…” she answered whilst trying to hide within her own skin like a turtle.

“No, f**k that, you walked into the room and sat in an abandoned corner. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not going to sit by and watch them do this to you, because it’s bullshit” the rambunctious teenager attempted to rally her new friend once more.

“R-really thanks… but I-I’m a t-tool. I-I’m used to b-being treated l-like that” she muttered in refusal once more as she began to innocently tap her two index fingers together.

“Jesus Christ, we shame racism only so that we can pick on another minority and not feel bad about it” Sandra mumbled to herself aside and then rushed over to Iris so she could drag the shy student along. “C’mon, I’m gonna earn you some respect right now. We’re going to play their game by their rules.”

“I-if you in-insist” the timid teenager finally stated, joining the runty woman’s rally at last. Although her strides were forced to be longer due to the head of the two-manned girl-train going full steam ahead.

Sandra firmly planted both hands onto the enemy’s table like she just stormed into their war room, and commanded with utmost confidence. “You’re gonna take us to that haunted house, we’re going to go in there, and we’re going to find that mirror and smash it like a Mazel tov.”

“M-mazel tov is a ph-phrase…”

 

Miller’s Day

 

                Sandra closed the door quite firmly behind her, which was probably for good measure. It was interesting for Miller to analyze household life and how it differed from the usual day at the lab.

All that was left for him was his thoughts, and given the morning he already had, he wanted to avoid as much internal dialogue as possible. It would be tough for him to do since the only person he could talk to had already left, so he had to find other ways to occupy his time in order to avoid another argument with himself.

His caretaker had said that he could watch a movie before she left, so he decided he could probably do that. He had watched the fiery female fiddle with the electric box enough times to work it himself, though it hardly made him an expert at it.

His freakish eyes fell upon the monolith of a shelf and began scanning through his options on something to watch. It was quite overwhelming, in fact Miller was curious to know if she could even name half of her library off the top of her head. Considering the notion that she spent day in and day out in her room, he was willing to bet for her.

That was another odd thing about Sandra, she didn’t leave her room often. It was quite clear that her and her family had some sort of turmoil, but Miller’s perception of the average home was that those related to one another got along well. Dr. Miller and his daughter seemed to have that sort of family bond whenever the behemoth saw them together, though it had been quite a bit of time since he’d seen either of them.

Regardless, his search continued. There were so many names and phrases grouped together, concepts that he understood, but could not recognize nor follow. Not to mention that the wall was just scattered without any particular order. Perhaps that was what Miller could do with his day, organize Sandra’s belongings until she got back home.

For someone who rarely ventured outside her space, her room was quite the mess. Clothes, blankets, and other such laundry populated the floor. In addition, her heat providers were caked in dust. It would most likely make her happy if he did chores for her. Not only did he behave himself and keep calm when she was gone, he made the place presentable. He enjoyed the thought. In fact, he loved the idea so much he got to work immediately, starting by scooping up the fabrics on the floor with his only functional hand.

‘Your weakness shows yet again. Why would we escape from the box only to be doing work and groveling upon a different person?’

“Sandra is my friend, I am doing a favour for her. It is the least I can do for her since she’s taken me in” Miller begun in a rather frightened manner due to the voice’s sudden return, though ended feeling like his reasoning was justified.

‘She is not our friend. She tolerates us at most.’

Miller spilt a bit of the armful of sheets as his brain rebutted. “That isn’t true. She shows us compassion and she feeds us… I mean, she feeds me.”

‘She is safeguarding us until proper authorities arrive to detain us. She is afraid of the concept of us. She is an augmented human, how could you not see that? The signs are quite clear. She doesn’t want to make a scene out of it because she fears that it would stir up too much speculation and terror. The thought of us revolts her. When has she ever touched us or allowed us to touch her? Just this morning she forbade you to touch her. She is bold enough to tolerate us, but is she our friend? No.’

Miller’s breathing became harder, the heat of the room and of the conversation was agitating him to no end. “Perhaps it is a human custom, me touching her is not appropriate” Miller offered in return.

‘You have been fed many lies, don’t feed them to yourself. Sandra has been keeping secrets from us. What did she say when she left today?’

“Sandra said she had to take a test at school, which is what human children do.”

‘Sandra has been doing school on her computer device, why would she need to go to the building now? She has left so that the proper authorities could deal with us without her being in the crossfire.’

“No, Sandra trusts us, she wouldn’t keep such secrets from us… me, Sandra trusts me” Miller backtracked, not wanting to believe the conspiracy that his brain was conjuring up, though it was a losing battle considering that Miller had little to no information to combat it with.

‘But you trust Sandra?’

“Yes, I trust Sandra.”

‘If that is so, and you believe that people that trust you will share their secrets, then why do you avoid talking about the animal we killed? If you trust Sandra then why don’t you talk about it? You said you can handle the blame for it, then why don’t you?’

“I-I just want to clean Sandra’s room” the creature wept weakly, his head lowering below his shoulder line.

‘You always do this! When faced with a difficult question you instead try to retreat! If we want to survive we must fight!’

“There is nothing to fight, we can live here.”

‘For how long? How do you know we are not right? Better question, how do you know you’re not wrong? We are stupid, but we are strong! Why do you continue to try to live intellectually? It has failed us at every turn!’

Miller began to have a difficult time breathing when the conversation with himself had reached its climax. His brain was boiling from the heat, his stomach was churning with anxiety and guilt from the life of the creature he claimed. His eyes darted across the room, unsure of where to focus or sometimes forgetting what he was looking at since his internal senses were being put into more use.

His ears picked up on a door slamming somewhere else in the house. Miller knew that no one was supposed to be home in the next little while, or perhaps he was so caught up in his internal conversation that he didn’t notice the passage of time. Either way, the echo of footsteps were closer than he would like them to be and they were only getting louder.

‘That must be them now! They will take us away if you continue to do nothing and trust the girl. Just consider this: whether we are right or wrong, could we afford to take that risk?’

Miller didn’t want to agree with the voice, but it certainly made quite the convincing ultimatum. Even if he did trust Sandra, he couldn’t risk being wrong. He came too far already. His eyes darted to the bed as he readied himself to slip underneath it for cover.

‘No, they’ll find us there! Grab whatever is available and disguise us! Then escape through the window. We don’t know what we’re up against or how many there are, so we run to fight another day.’

The mild mannered man tossed aside the assortment of floor mess he picked up a while ago and swiftly began to sort through them for something that would be of more use to him than clothes that were quite accurately half his size. He plucked a small sheet from the pile and began to wrap his blade as thoroughly as a last minute present. The sound of the footsteps were getting closer, rattling the heart in Miller’s chest cavity as though it were a die and the gambler was desperate for a good roll.

His weapon was concealed, but he required something extra to hide his body. Even with the sword safely padded down it still looked rather peculiar, like his arm was recently flattened by a steamroller and somehow kept its shape.

Another swipe at the horde of belongings scored him a plaid blanket, large enough to conceal his figure, however, it made him appear like he was just recently kicked out of bed. On top of that, the fabric itched against his skin the instant the two surfaces met, but with the shadow of feet appearing under the crease of the door there was no choice left but to retreat.

Since what his brain predicted seemed to be holding true, he trusted it as his oracle for the time being and ran for the window. Sandra’s strategy of be ridding guests at her door would not work as well for him as it did for her, so with a swift motion he threw the blinds out of the way and launched the latch of the port out of his way.

The being flinched at the light, but couldn’t stop for the pain. He bolted as soon as he had the chance, running as fast as he could whilst making sure that his makeshift robe wouldn’t fall off. Through the streets, through the sidewalks, and through a park or two.

Meanwhile, back at the house, Sandra’s father propped the door open. His eyes darted toward the collection of films she had on display. His gaze did not break from the titles until he came across a certain one, pulling it out.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Sandra does have a really good memory. Anyways, back to work” the gent shrugged off as he placed Seven back onto the shelf.

Miller ceased his escape once he threw himself into an alleyway, how far away from his original location? He had no clue. He huffed and puffed a storm, threatening a mighty tornado to any possible ants below.

He was safe within the shade, and so were his massive pupils. Though, with Sandra’s house no longer being a possible safe haven, the next order of business would be for him to find a new temporary home. Either that or get back on track with his original plan to flee to Russia, but his ex-caretaker had already ruled that out as a fairly bad idea, which left Miller with nothing.

A perk to everything though, the outside air felt like a soothing winter day over the blistering heat of Sandra’s room.

Once Miller had regulated his bodily functions, he began to delve further into the crevasse between buildings. He peeked out into the streets. His eyes feasted upon crowds of people roaming up and down the sidewalks and a traffic jam on the road, cars moving only an inch per second. He must’ve somehow roamed into the heart of the city.

His jaw continued to jitter, so many souls in one place, each of them owning a life of some sort. He had never seen so many at once. He was taken aback in both amazement and paranoia.

The alley didn’t offer him much of anything, and going back the way he came would have been counterproductive, so he braved the crowd, throwing the tattered blanket over his head to disguise it as a hood and pretended to blend in with the rest. It was a difficult task considering that he was well over six feet tall and not to mention his attire and countenance slapped a frightful face on most people he passed by. The intimidating figure almost felt the need to apologize to those he spooked, but the task would be too monumental and attract attention to himself.

He actually had no plan of action, he was mostly riding the wave of people, curious to see where it would take him, but overtime he found that the street seemed never ending. He cut himself loose the minute he spotted another alleyway, hiding within the shadows once more.

He wasn’t alone though, a rather tiny and filthy sad sap sat amongst heaps of trash, his rough and unshaven mug watching Miller as he entered the territory.

“Oi you wouldn’t ‘appen to ‘ave any spare change on yah now, would yah?” the man spoke in a rather pompous British accent.

Miller tucked the ends of the blanket into his shirt, as he stared down the homeless person who was also wearing plaid attire. His was an actual sweater though, not just a blanket acting as a cover. He wasn’t exactly sure what the bloke meant by change, but considering he had nothing but the clothes on his back, it was safe to assume that he had nothing the beggar was looking for. “Uh, no. I have nothing…” he replied.

The shaggy man’s vision was glued onto Miller’s eyes for a second, his mouth parting a bit once he realised just what the giant guy was. In a few seconds though, his visage brightened in a cheerful manner. “Eh, you’re one of us, ain’t you?!” he expressed with open arms.

Miller was taken aback a bit by his sudden air of jolliness considering that he looked to be wallowing in his sorrows before the one armed wonder came onto the scene. Not to mention that the scruffy guy identified with him for some reason. “You’re augmented too?” Miller was technically more than just augmented, but he didn’t need to go into detail with the nomad. He told Sandra his backstory already, he didn’t feel the need to pass it around even more unless absolutely necessary.

“Nah, I mean ‘omeless. Yah look like yah ‘aven’t bathed in months. Not to bother yah ‘bout it. M’ name’s Pip. C’mon, ‘ave a seat with me. Don’t ‘ave much friends ‘round these parts” he invited pushing away one of the trash bags next to him.

Miller found the way the troubled tramp spoke to be rather enticing, not to mention he had such a welcoming tone and face despite being a tad bit tattered. Not that he was one to judge people based on looks. The gentle giant eased himself into the space that Pip made for him, answering back with his own name “Miller.”

“Right on yah, mate. Not from around ‘ere are yah? The bloody place is a trap, yah get in, but yah can’t get out. So many wankers, you’d think I was back in Britain!”

Miller knew just a small bit on geography, but he knew that Britain was on the same side of the globe as Russia, so perhaps he could still follow his original plan. If the homeless man could’ve made the trip across, then how much harder could it be for Miller to do the same? There were still issues about the other things that Sandra had mentioned, but he could always think of those when he arrived in Russia. “So, how did you get all the way over here?”

“Oh, bloody ‘ell. It was the worst mistake I ever made. I used what little money I ‘ad and bought a plane ticket. You know, they really build America up as a place where even people like me can make it big, but we don’t.”

“Oh, sorry to hear about that…”

“You know, me mum was related to royalty. I was the richest kid in the ‘ole sodding town. Could buy anything, I could. Then me mum died and my dad took me in. He stole all me money, he did. Didn’t leave a pound in my name. ‘E pounded on me bottom though, take me to the shed whenever I did something ‘e didn’t like. Beat me senseless until I learned my lesson. That’s why I came to America, wanted to show ‘im. Make twice the money ol’ Mumsy ‘ad and then shut ‘im down. Didn’t go so well…”

Miller sat in place rather awkwardly, not exactly expecting to get a guilt trip of a life story from the man. In the same sense though, he was very sympathetic to his situation, especially the part about the beatings from his father. While Dr. Miller was not the one responsible for the shock therapy he went through, the feeling of electricity flowing down his spine never really went away. He actually began to feel bad about not having any money to spare. “…Wow, I wish I could help you, but I don’t have anything…”

“Your ‘eart is as big as you are, my friend. Tell yah what, if yah come across anything that might be ‘elpful just come back ‘ere.  This ‘ere is my spot. Do yah have a spot o’ your own?”

“No, well, not anymore. I… got scared and ran off. I don’t really know my way back. I don’t even remember the house number…”

“Yah lived in a ‘ouse?”

“…Yes.”

“Look, these streets are a dangerous place for a guy as nice as you. Yah go back to that ‘ouse and yah face whatever fear this is. Not to mention that this ‘ouse might ‘ave some things ta ‘elp your buddy Pip. If anything, just grab some stuff from that ‘ouse and yah can stay ‘ere with me. Whadda say?”

“… I’ll think about it.”

Author's Note

Here's the third chapter to this title. Just give it your honest opinion (and by that I mean I'm willing to give you cold hard cash (if you don't live two blocks down from me, we'll talk about shipment) to make me sound like a masterful genius).