"For all the evers, for all the infinities, for all the infinite stars in the sky."

My spine went rigid; my palms flattened against the table. Whenever I heard the phrase in the past, it was a feminine voice that said it, and not a male's, as it was now. I twisted in my seat to pinpoint where the voice came from.

A couple tables over, a young man and woman sat side by side at a round cafe table in the shade of a Haussmannien building. Their hands were entwined, and their heads were bent close to one another as if none of the world mattered. Neither of them turned to confront my stare. Feeling disgusted, I righted myself. My hands still clutched the table as my gaze searched the area.

I found myself seated at a round table outside a cafe in the sunlight. The cafe was a part of a row of towering buildings that ran down the street. On the other side of the street, a wide river divided the city. Several bridges—spread out at intervals—connected the parts of the city. If I looked upwards towards the horizon, I could see the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame spires against the blue sky. My ears picked up on the exchanges of French and English as servers assisted cafe patrons with ordering.

My focus narrowed to my table. Unlike the lovebirds behind me, I was alone. There was a single cappuccino and pinkish macaroon in front of me; both were unsurprisingly untouched. The wind was slightly caressing my face and played with the skirt of my sundress. The temperature was perfect: not too cold that goosebumps formed on my arms, not too hot that sweat accumulated on my brow. Beyond the conversations around me, I could hear the rush of traffic. I blinked at the items on the table before me, attempting to make sense of my new contradictory reality. My mind was resistant against accepting this as real.

Instead, it was adamant that only moments ago, I was in the middle of another suicide attempt. If I concentrated, I could still feel the hospital guards' hands all over my skin as the paper suit ripped. I could still feel the faint pain as they torqued my limbs into painful twists. Someone had been wordlessly screaming, and those screams echoed throughout the building. My face had been wet. Sweat, maybe, or perhaps tears. Blood spread throughout the cell as if it was an explosion of glitter. It was a brutal bath. I had fought the guards for some time—long enough for the doctor to decide that it was appropriate to sedate me with Haldol and ketamine. The substances had fogged my mind, had sent me into blissful oblivion.

Until I had regained consciousness here.

I wished I could believe my senses and believe that I really was in Paris. Out of all the many places I had visited, Paris was amongst my favorites. The last time I had walked its streets had been a couple of years ago. I wanted to give everything I had just to have this be my reality instead of just a hallucination.

My gaze fell on the cappuccino again. I bit my lip, considering.

My instincts alarmed, and I glanced up quickly. My gaze landed on a solitary male sitting just to my left. He was also taking up an entire table by himself. His own gaze was focused on the book he had flattened against the table. I couldn't ignore my instincts. The man had just shifted his own gaze back to his book before mine could catch him. His facial structure was sturdy with a strong jaw and cheekbones, both of which were covered by a thin blanket of dark facial fuzz. His hair was buzzed short. Health was clearly a priority for him; I could see the thick corded muscles sculpting his collarbone area and shoulders. I thought he was going to ignore me until slowly, his own gaze drifted upwards to meet mine with inquiry—as if I was the one who had initiated the entire thing.

Out of human habit and the shame of being caught, my gaze darted away. I scanned the café’s exterior. There was something off about it all, something that extended way beyond the cappuccino and the words that the male half of the couple had stolen from my mother. Everything just seemed feigned, fake, as if stardust had been sprinkled all over the scene. Everything was just too pleasant. The couple behind me was too affectionate and their PDA too ostentatious. There were the two friends meeting over coffee in front of me who were too animated. They were too passionate over whatever they were discussing for it to be realistic. The server interacted with the next table over, and his smile was too wide and his uniform blindly white. A mother sat with her daughter in front of me. The motherly affection was a bit overzealous. No one seemed to care that there was a killer in their midst.

The only other person who wasn’t radiating overzealous emotion was the male sitting adjacent to me. His attention had refocused on his book. He even flipped a page forward, as his eyes scanned the new page back and forth.

Bringing my hand up to the necklace I was wearing, I returned my gaze back to the cappuccino. I ran my fingers across the pendent strung onto the necklace as I pondered. The pendent was a crude diamond. The sun's rays collided with it and created a rainbow across my hand. Testing this new reality further, I took a sip of the cappuccino. My nose crinkled over the tart and bitter taste. There was a lack of sugar, favoring, and cream to alleviate the bitterness. If this was a dream, I would not be having doubts about my surroundings. I would not realize it was a dream until the transition into awakening. Which meant something else was amiss.

I pushed back from the table. The chair scraped against the ground. No one even glanced in my direction as I stood up. Without looking back, I navigated my way through the maze of cafe tables and joined the pedestrian traffic walking along the river. I had been to Paris numerous times before and could navigate by using the landmarks. Feeling apprehensive, I walked at an even pace towards the Arc de Triomphe and Champ Elysees. Both areas were heavy in pedestrian congestion, and it would be easy to evade a stalker if I had one.

As I walked, I observed the other pedestrians. Their emotions were as ostentatious as those at the cafe. Their laughter was amplified, smiles too wide. I was used to being the reserved one in groups. This amplification was a bit too much. The world was filled with imperfections that this reality was not reflecting at all. I also couldn't shake the recent memories of those suicidal thoughts and actions. Then, there was the constant feeling that I was being watched from afar.

While all these different people around me were just figments of my imagination, there was one other person who was lucid and real. Several times, I glanced over my shoulder to see if he was following me. The crowd behind me concealed any indication that he was. Still, I tried to put barriers in his path, like the busy server carrying four entree plates out to the exterior tables in front of a bustling restaurant.

When I reached the roundabout surrounding the Arc de Triomphe, the traffic forced me to come to a complete stop on the edge of the curb. I bounced on the balls of my feet as I waited for the traffic to clear up. I didn't know where I was going exactly—I was still trying to figure out what was going on and where I was. I was curious as to how far this place went to resemble Paris.

I sensed my stalker’s approach coming from behind. I snarled underneath my breath and stepped out in front of a car. The car's brakes squealed as it slowed down enough for me to cross the roundabout. I skipped through the openings and dodged the vehicles in the inner lanes of traffic until I reached the circular concrete plate that the arc was on. Unlike the other times I had visited, it was void of any military and law enforcement presence. This made it simple enough to slip underneath the shadowy parts of the arc and wait. The monument's stone underbelly was cool against my exposed shoulders and hands, which were flattened against it.

It became apparent that the male had some tactical training when he slowly approached the monument's underside. Taking small steps on a convex line, he gradually exposed himself from his own cover as his eyes searched the shadows. There was enough of a concave curve in the arc's belly that I remained hidden from his search. The male's frown was clear. He paused as he searched the area to ensure I had not fled from the scene. When he convinced himself nothing was amiss, he started his approach into the arc’s underbelly. His arms were loose and partly raised to defend if he needed to.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

I held off attacking until he had crossed the threshold underneath the arc. I darted out of my concealment, grabbed his arm, lifted it, and kicked him in his kidney in a matter of milliseconds. The male released a grunt and reacted by starting to hunch over. I was already redirecting his fall with a skillful twist of his arm. It was a move that did not require much power once you had leverage and momentum over the subject. The ground underneath us vibrated as he fell. I scrambled on top of him and positioned my knees right underneath his armpits. "How did you know?" he croaked. "How did you know this wasn't reality?"

I frowned at the backside of his head. That wouldn't have been the first thing I would have said if I was at such a disadvantage. "The cappuccino," I grumbled. "I wouldn't order that. I prefer a caramel latte. Iced with sugar, syrup, and milk."

"They said you would be smart." I felt my equilibrium destroyed when the male pushed himself off the ground and leapt up onto his feet. I was flung sideways and off balanced onto my planted palm. I was still trying to find my balance when he threw me onto my back and assumed the position of advantage by kneeling over me. A smirk resided on his arrogant face as he peered down at me. The top half of his face was concealed by shadow so I didn't have to see his amusement tinkling in his eyes. "But not brilliant." I growled over his insult. He had my arms trapped by my sides with his legs. I fought through the astonishment over the sudden maneuver and struggled to get my breathing under control. I was somewhat impressed. He had to possess both strength and grace to execute that maneuver.

"Who's they?" I hissed.

"The people who want you to learn how to use the sanctuary, and me to train you." The male answered with contempt. I tried to shift underneath him. His thighs held me so tightly that it was impossible.

"I have no idea what you just said. To me, it seems like you hijacked my mind!" I told him snidely. It was impossible to not match the attitude in his tone, which made it clear that he loathed being here. It was obvious someone had to twist his arm and promise him something to convince him to take up this assignment.

The male snorted. "Again, not very brilliant."

My eyes narrowed into a glare over the insult. Fury erupted within me. "You're a fuckturd." I grunted as I bucked my hips upwards. His arrogance brought him down. His own fall was as ungraceful as mine had been. He posted his arms besides my head to regain his balance. I could feel his warm breath against my cheek. However, I was already moving. I had enough flexibility and strength to wrap both of my legs around his waist and pull. The male tried to resist the backwards momentum by grabbing for something. There was nothing around him except stone and me. My legs flung him to his back. I ended up on his chest with my feet pressing down against his upper thighs. My toes hit pressure points in the area, which caused the male to buck. Keeping my body low to his and my hands pressing against his chest, I worked my way up his body until I was positioned directly underneath his collarbone. I doubted he had enough of the required flexibility to copy my maneuver.

Breathing heavily from the exertion, I stared down at his face. This close to him, I realized that his irises were copper, and together with his face, expressed surprise. He hadn't expected to be flipped as easily as I had done it. My arms were pressed against his as I held them down, and I could feel the defined curve of his biceps against my forearms. "You're going to start off by telling me who you are," I demanded.

The male had the gall to snort underneath me. The arrogance in his eyes slowly consumed the awe. "That was the first question you asked me?"

"Wrong answer." My elbow was positioned precisely over his brachial plexus. A little pressure from my elbow made the male squirm and his face twist. I alleviated the pressure after a couple of seconds. "You want to try again?"

"Hawk," he declared.

My eyes narrowed. "What's your real name?"

"That's what you're getting," he growled.

In one movement, Hawk jerked upwards. It was enough to unseat my hold on him. I slid partly off his chest before feeling his leg press against my back and his arms pulling me over his head as he executed a backwards somersault. I tucked my head just in time before I slammed against the ground. Hawk hovered over me in the same exact position that I had been in moments before. The only difference was that Hawk had more strength than I did. His fingers curled around my wrists. "Did you grow up with brothers?" He wondered.

"You could say that," I growled. Jay was not an easy grappling partner. He made me work for dominance.

Hawk nodded to himself, as if my answer confirmed one of his theories about me. Then the wonder faded, and he refocused. "The first question you should have asked is 'Where are we?'"

I glared up at him. Some of the reluctance and agitation in his copper eyes had shifted into amusement. "Well, since you are so excited to answer that particular question, you should just tell me," I huffed.

"Or show you. Maybe then you'll listen to me." Hawk smirked. There was a flicker of concentration across his face. That was all it took for our surroundings to disappear. The cool stone against my back disappeared; I could no longer feel any surface supporting me. The shadowy arch above us faded into darkness. The traffic noises penetrating the shadowy interior of the arch faded into silence. Everything was gone; it was just Hawk and me in the middle of the darkness. We were floating in the middle of the universe. There weren't even stars spotting the space. Panic seized my heart. It was difficult to control. I could feel my breathing increase as my wide gaze drifted back to Hawk, who had also been looking around us. He, however, remained calm. Feeling my gaze on him, he turned back to me. "Lesson number one," he started. "You're in what is called a sanctuary. In a way, they are alternate dimensions. In another, they are black holes only assessable by one specific mind. In this case, we are in the black hole that is only accessible by your lovely ignorant mind."

"You did hijack my mind!" I exclaimed. Fear was flooding my bloodstream.

Hawk shrugged as much as he could in his positioning. "You could say that." I snarled at him, at his amusement. He ignored my agitation, looking up around us. "At its core, the sanctuary looks like this. It's a blank tablet. It's a whole lot of nothingness, until you start constructing. From there, everything and anything is possible. Your default setting was Paris, which tells me the city has some significance for you. You could create any city you wanted out of your imagination, color outside of the lines."

Growling, I slammed my head upwards. It connected with Hawk's chin. It provided the distraction I needed, and for milliseconds, Hawk's hold on my wrists loosened. It was enough for me to squirm out from underneath him. I scrambled to my feet. For moments, I was hampered by disorientation. I was standing in the middle of the darkness with nothing to orient myself to. I swayed on my feet, losing my equilibrium. Then Paris slammed down around me. Hawk and I were back in the shadows of Arc de Triomphe.

Fear still gripping my gut, I fled. I forgot about the walking pace I had previously used. I was severely frightened now. My thoughts were in chaos. This wasn't a coincidence. I knew that there was some connection between the massacre and this hijacking. I needed to find a way to escape this... whatever this was.

I ran to one of the bridges crossing the Seine. As I ran, I realized that all the overly enthusiastic bystanders had disappeared. Paris was vacant. My feet pounded on the bridge. I had been on this very one many times before. It was distinguished by the millions of locks hanging from its infrastructure, placed there by a million lovers. When I reached the apex of the bridge, a force snatched me back from my forward progress and flung me against the railing. My back curved against the rail. I stared up at Hawk.

"Lesson number two, never turn your back on your enemy," Hawk snarled. His breath was close to my face. "My captors are not to be trusted, and the sooner you learn this lesson, the better."

"And you can be trusted?" I breathed.

"Yes."

I swallowed. "Then send me back. Show me that you can be trusted. Let me go."

Conflict distorted his features. Then his hands slipped down from where they were pressing against my shoulders to just above my elbows. He squeezed once. "I'm not a monster," he muttered softly. "You'll come back. You could create your own worlds, your own universes. You won't be able to resist the possibilities."

Paris faded from reality.

The next time I opened my eyes, I was back in a hospital room, all my limbs restrained to the bed. My vision was blurry and thoughts foggy. A security guard sat against the room's threshold; her gaze was focused on her cell phone. I relaxed and allowed myself to be consumed by the ketamine that was still in my bloodstream. The sanctuary and its strange male were just a drug-induced dream.