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WONDERING !
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 THIRTY THREE・*:·. ⇌ ஜ  .·:*


   "Feeling okay?"

    "Feeling great, would you hurry up already?"

Ambrose frowned, standing above her. "If I hurt you, you'll die and then you'll never see Earth. How's that sound?"

   Cordelia rolled her eyes, staring up at the bright white needle that hung dangerously close to her head. She was anxious. She was ready, and she couldn't wait to get to Earth.

   "You're so dramatic." She teased, winking up at him.

   He shook his head, grumbling. "I've never seen anyone more excited to be in this chair than you, Del."

  Cordelia grinned, "I'll take that as a compliment."

   Guards stood all around the room, more importantly, her father stood just next to the door as he watched the ring around his daughter's head begin to glow.

   This was the last step. This was it.

   If Cordelia's mind was strong enough to withhold the power, they'd be sending her to Earth tomorrow. It was so close. She was so close to finally being able to do this.

   Earth. God, she couldn't wait.

   Millie was the designer of her own catastrophe. It was arbitrary. A thing descended from nowhere, pointed a bony finger, and smirked. As if to say, 'I choose you'.

   Millie blinks rapidly as she stares up at the white ceiling, trying to replenish the dryness that took over her eyes. She wasn't sure how long she's been tied up. She never was good at keeping track of time, usually, time got away from her. She does know, she was knocked out long enough for them to bathe her.

Cordelia.

   She felt so clean she felt disgusting.

   It was cold, with no dried dirt or hair covering her body like a blanket. Her hair smelt of light flowers and felt soft against her neck. Millie was afraid to look in a mirror. Her finger nails were clean and they were even painted over with a clear gloss; making them shine.

   "Good morning, Millie."

   The blonde flinched, craning her neck as far as she could. The older woman stood next to her bed, a long white coat dropped down her body and stopped at her ankles. Millie didn't respond, she didn't know what her voice would sound like if she did.

   The woman sighed, "How are you feeling?"

   Do you mean. . . after they drugged and kidnapped her?

   "Your vitals are good," she didn't wait for a response, inspecting a monitor that hung above her head. Millie's face twisted, the caution in Millie's studious gaze was enough to make the woman try a different approach.

   The woman started with her feet, then removed the straps at her wrists. Millie sat up so fast it made her head spin, the woman took a flinched step back, and the blonde saw her visibly swallow.

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