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Chrysanthemum
Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Chrys

“Oh, please.” I say. “Don't you think if i wanted to hurt you I probably would've done it as soon as you came in here? I would’ve come through a back window or something. Murderers don’t walk into a police station, much less through the front door.

“And I’ve been trained to dodge bullets. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried. Now, is Officer Abbot here?”

That catches him off guard. “Uh… ok. Yeah. um. Let me go get her.” he backs off from through the door, eyeing me warily.

I smirk. I also got trained to argue with flawless logic, and pose my body language as though i’m not lying.

“Winged girl…. Didn’t even blink when I drew my gun.” I hear the man on the other side of the door. It opens and him and a woman walk into the room. Her cold eyes rake over me.

She has white-blonde hair, ice colored eyes, and sharp features. She is ridiculously skinny, and probably in her early forties.

I recognize her. Dr. Amanda Clark. She was Dr. Turow’s right hand man up until I was about seven. She was always nice to me in little ways, like being gentle with the needle for blood samples, or congratulating me on successes in training. She even let me call her Amanda when we were alone. She was the closest thing to a mom I ever had.

I thought she left because of those things. It is restricted for anyone to show me any kindness or softness, they want me to be cold, hard, a warrior.

“You can leave us, Officer Arroyo.” She says.

She crosses the room to me. “Chrysanthemum.” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “I- I missed you so much.”

I take a step back. Thats…… wow. “Um…. Dr. Clark?”

“Erika Abbot, while we’re here. At home you can call me Amanda.”

“What? Home?”

“You’re staying at my house.”

“Ooookay. Chrys, please.”

She does something unexpected. She wraps her arms around me, squishing me. I pull away. “What the fuck was that?!” I say.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I forgot how little physical contact you get. You have a lot to learn.”

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

*★*

I watch as Amanda’s car pulls into a garage in a house atop a hill. It is large for a small town like this.

She has a three story baby blue mansion, a huge swimming pool and hot tub, roofdeck, and no neighbors, except for a VERY large, gray building with tinted windows and no doors except a hole in the roof.

I swoop down and land next to her car. She gets out. “Um. Hi.” she says. “We have a lot to catch up on.”

I nod and go inside. To my left is her living room, with a 55 inch TV, three couches, and an intricately designed cherry wood/glass coffee table. On the far wall is a bookshelf filled with many, many, many books, some of which I saw at the facility.

Behind that is some sort of control or communication center, with three 45 inch TVs, countless computers, and a six foot file cabinet. Behind that is a hallway.

To my right is an industrial size kitchen complete with two huge fridge/freezers, two dishwashers, seemingly infinite cabinets and drawers, and a large island.

The hallway comes into the kitchen and there is another door that I assume leads to the garage.

Next to the kitchen is a dining room that seats twelve. In front of me is an oak staircase.

“So” Amanda says, shutting the door. “The hallway behind that techno junk is the guest bathroom, complete with heated toilets and an authentic japanese soaking tub, and door to the backyard. Third floor is bedrooms and office space, at the end of the hallway is a hidden door to a research lab of sorts, but I rarely use it. I do still have to take blood and feather samples, though.

“Second floor is guest bedrooms, a spare office, and an exercise room. You can have a guest room if you like, or you can hang in that gray building, which is more what you’re used to, and has a gym like your old one. I know you don’t sleep, so I moved the bed out of the spare room on the third floor just in case.”

“I'll take the gray building. Are there security cameras in there?” I say.

“Yes, but there is a control panel so you can shut them off.”

“Ok, i’m going to go check it out.”

*★*

I swoop through the hole, which is barely big enough for my wingspan, and land on the ground. The width of the building is probably 45x45ft, and the height is probably 50ft.

Hanging from the ceiling are monkey bars and a line of hoops for me to fly through, ranging from a few inches under my wingspan to less than my arm span, and at different intervals and heights.

A huge fan is installed in the wall in front of me, with a row of four foot tall hurdles next to it. I see taller hurdles stacked against the wall under the fan.

Next to that is a row of exercise equipment, including a treadmill, weights, various exercise machines for my wings, and more. Behind me and to my right is an obstacle course, complete with hurdles ranging from 2-15 feet, sand pits to run through/jump over, tunnels, a narrow hallway-type thing that has obstacles coming out of it, and more.

On my right, against the wall, is lots of shelving stocked with bins and boxes of who knows what.

Above that is a climbing wall, tinted windows, then an alcove type thing with a couch, a coffee table, a desk, a bookshelf, and a tv. Against the far wall is a kitchenette with cabinets, a mini fridge/freezer, a sink, and a microwave. On the floor is a teal shag rug.

I fly up and land. I take off my black $180 Nike Ultraboosts and set them in the corner. I grab a coke out of the fridge and plop down on the couch. I’ll train tonight.

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