From beginnings as the daughter of a high-ranking Cooperative agent to Princess of her father's kingdom, Melanie Langdon has always been privileged. Is rising to inherit the Antichrist's throne in her destiny? [Sequel to 'King of Hell'; AU Apocalyps...
The little girl was shaken awake that morning, her eyes slowly opening to the sight of her lion-haired father kneeling at her bedside. He was not fully dressed, in fact he had just rolled out of bed himself. He lightly shook her, and she rose from the twin-sized bed put especially for her in the suite reserved for them.
"Hm? It's morning?" Of course, she thought, I can never tell. These outposts are so dark.
"Yes. Remember, you're helping me with the selections again," he reminded her. "You need to go in the closet. Use your talents to read their souls. You know the drill."
"I hate closets," she groaned.
"I can only see the dark parts of their souls, that which they desperately try to hide," he said. "You can see anything in someone's soul."
Melanie immediately thought of the blonde-haired crude woman, the African-American woman, and the Gray servant she encountered when first arriving. They all were so peculiar, but she could not put her finger on why: "dad?"
"Yes, darling?" He stood up and went to comb his golden tresses before putting on his red scarf to compliment his black suit jacket. She pulled back the covers and her bare feet hit the floor from the rather high bed.
"Did you notice anything..." She thought for a moment, and he looked back at her, "uh, weird, with any of the survivors here?"
Michael thought for a moment and chuckled: "all of them are weird. We've established this."
"No, no," Melanie disagreed. "I mean... I noticed something with... three girls here."
"Who?"
"Uh... one has blonde hair. Yeah, the one who was a jerk last night," Melanie recalled. "One of the Gray servants. Another was that black woman. They all seemed... I don't know. I just... sensed something strange."
He smiled curtly and nodded; "we will figure it out. Everyone will be interviewed here. I will review the files myself. You know the drill, that in between each interview, you are to tell me exactly what you sense in their souls. Hold nothing back. You are playing a big role, after all."
Melanie nodded rapidly and obediently: "yes, dad."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As promised, the man with bleach-blond hair and sunglasses was interviewed first. He was known simply as Mr. Gallant, a thirty-something-year-old former hair stylist from Santa Monica who lived with his affluent grandmother, Evie, who also resided at the outpost. Melanie was in the closet as she heard the interview between he and her father in full. He's a coward, she thought to herself, I saw it on him when I first encountered him.
"So, how does this work?" Mr. Gallant questioned.
"I'm not disclosing how you are being graded. There is no rubric," Michael answered, sounding authoritative. "However, anything you may feel will compel rejection may be exactly what I seek, and whatever you may think I am looking for, may not be what I am looking for."
"So... can I curb the system?" He takes the easy way out, Melanie sensed as she heard Mr. Gallant through the closet door, my dad will kill you, are you crazy?
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