Question before reading this post: what is Dmitri?

Enjoy :)

Chapter 48 – The Other Side of Right is Wrong (Samson POV) Pt.2

"Talk about not judging a book by its cover," Luca mumbles as we follow Fatima up a flight of stairs in the barn to a glass door, a keypad next to it. Immediately glancing around the small room, that could comfortably fit maybe six people, I spot four vents in the floor, eight above, and three rectangular-

"It decontaminates us," Fatima says as she enters the code quickly on the keypad, after just staring at it for a while. I had almost assumed she did not know the code. As she taps on the last key, the glass door slides to the right into the hanging wall.

With no fear, or less than I've seen on Fatima compared to when she was moving into our house, she steps into the room, near the far corner.

"Hold up! Wait, lets get the things from the car so we don't have to do this twice," Imogen chirps, turning and rushing down the steps, Luca and I following her while Fatima waits.

I grab the satchel, duffel bag and her suitcase while Imogen and Luca grab shopping that we had done along the way here stopping at places that were low key and didn't have CCTV that we could see.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Imogen and Luca behind me we join Fatima in the white room, the glass door closing behind us. I'm not sure what I'm expecting, but I startle when all at once the vents above and below me pelts air out.

I close my eyes from the force showered against my face. But as abrupt as the pressure came it was gone and the glass behind me, shifted to the right.

Leading us, Fatima enters the next white room, pushing the door open and searching for the light switches. Finding them easily, she flips the first switch. Moving aside, Luca and Imogen stand beside me, able to make out the open layout of the room in the darkness that Fatima could not.

The first overhead light shines over the kitchen, and Luca's earlier comment is proved to be an understatement.

Based on the wrecked exterior, I expected a matching interior.

As Fatima turned on the lights, the barn was slowly shown, white sheets over piece of furniture. The walls are concrete, but my eyes narrow at the wood ceiling. Searching for holes or slithered gaps in the frame of the barn, but I find none. It is also blatantly clear that if there were any crevices in the structure that they've been filled in with concrete putty.

Placing everything on the floor, I walk to the windows. Inspecting the design, again I look for spaces, gaps, anything. But again I come up short; the jamb, sill, channel and casing of the window are all secure.

Everything was pointing to Dmitri preparing this place to be like the one he kept Fatima. Blinking, I shake my head, focusing on Fatima again.

She stands still, her eyes taking in the room, and I do as well.

Walking around, slowly removing the sheets, I quickly come to the conclusion that Dmitri hasn't been here recently. Yet, it's warm. The shades used are browns, light caramels, dark burgundy sofas, and arms chairs placed in front of a fireplace.

Still, nothing personal jumps out at me. There are no pictures of anyone. I send a wary peek towards Luca and Imogen who are folding the sheets and stacking them, as they peer around the room themselves.

Almost robotically, Fatima, takes a step back, her face utterly blank. Looking away, I steel myself, wondering if she had been here before? Was this just another home that Dmitri left her alone in?

Or was he planning on bringing her here? When she leaves the kitchen, I rush over to the cabinet that held the canned goods, taking one in my hands and searching for it's expiration date.

July 2015.

Throwing the numbers around in my mind, silently, I realize that it's been nearly six or maybe seven months since someone has been here. But it's more than just when the last person was here. It has much to do with the time Fatima spent alone starving before Walsh found her.

Maybe it's the need to see something positive and not so cynical but I believe Dmitri meant to bring Fatima here. I saw the manila envelopes that Fatima had packed. Homes located in various areas. What was so special about this place?

It's an impossible question to ask, and even have answered. Imogen was right. We had to stop at the other homes, see what Dmitri did with them. Were they the same as this one?

Instantly, a new dreaded thought pops up. Once we get confirmation that he was preparing homes for the world that Fatima believed was coming, we'd have to face the why.

Why would Dmitri trust the words of a child from another realm? How did he even know Fatima was in that gray room with Cynthia? What happened before? What did Dmitri know that led him to make these types of preparation?

Exhausted, though I try to prevent myself from yawning, that effort is in vain. The loudest yawn takes over, as I groan, stretching myself out.

Blinking, swivel to face the group, but catch Fatima standing in front of a nearly seven or eight feet tall cabinet. Her arms at her side, back facing us. I expect her to open the top part with two handles, but instead she scoots down, and opens the bottom partition. Sitting back when it's fully open, on display for us all.

There are two shelves; the bottom housing board games, Life, Sorry!, Chutes and Ladders, Operation, Candy Land and Connect 4. The top shelves, as I get closer, I note hold a childs pencil box, and a few coloring books.

My eyes flash over to Luca and Imogen, before returning to see Fatima reaching for the white and blue pencil pox case. Though her hand blocks out the last two letters of something written in a child like print, it's clear to see what it spells.

F A T I M A.

She was here before, I think, screaming the words in my head. When she pulls a coloring book out next, I've already taken a few steps towards her, able to look over her shoulder. Yet giving her enough space so I'm not towering her.

Observing as Fatima begins flipping through the book, I note more than half of it is colored in.

"You were here?" I whisper, afraid to interrupt the silence or any memories that were coming back to her. Closing the book, she pushes it back into the cabinet, placing the pencil box case back on top and shutting the cabinet before peering up at me over her shoulder.

"I don't exactly recall being here," she remarks quietly. Nodding, I stick my hand to help her up to her feet. Sighing heavily once she's upright, she turns to Imogen and Luca, "bathrooms over there," she points to a one of four closed doors.

"And uhm," she pauses; walking over to the door next to the one that she says is the bathroom. Opening it all the way she nods to herself, "bedroom-"

"Actually why don't we all sleep out here?" Luca proposes, "just in case." I shrug not caring, tiredness slowly claiming me. "That's fine, but can you guys drag over one of the mattresses?" Fatima says pointing to the large queen sized bed. Again, with the ease of someone that has partial knowledge for where things are in this place, she walks over to another large cabinet situated between the two bedrooms. Opening the top half she pulls out four quilted blankets.

Sighing, I do as she says, helping Luca bring out the top mattress, laying it before the fireplace.

"Okay so, I bought everyone the same thing basically," Imogen starts as Fatima begins fixing the sofas with bedding from the cabinet. "Bought a pack of toothbrushes, and toothpaste, body wash, feminine products," she lays them out on the table, moving to the next bag.

"I also just grabbed a few clothes for us as well, under garments," Imogen's face heats, "didn't know what size you both were," she adds. By the time she's separated everything, I stand there a bit awed at how much she had actually purchased when we had made a quick stop.

One by one we take quick showers, and when Luca and I have finished, we meet again in the kitchen where I decided to make something to eat. Nothing big, just noodles. As I stir the pot, he rests against the counter.

"This guy, Dmitri," he starts when I say nothing, "he had to work for the Elders or maybe had connections with them. I mean none of this makes any sense!" he whispers. "Has Faith said what he was?"

I stop stirring to narrow my eyes at him. Waiting for an elaboration. "I mean, was he human? Fae? Vampire?" he inhales deeply, "I tried picking up a scent, but do you realize that there is none?" I frown, tiredly putting together what Luca was saying.

Inhaling, concentrating, I taste the air.

"There should be the faintest scent of something but I catch Faith, you, Imogen and myself, there is no other scent here. How is that possible? Not to mention the car? How did they get to the storage facility?"

In my moment of distraction the noodles I'm boiling starts rising and quickly falls over the edge. Dashing forward I shut it off, before rocking back on my heels.

Inhaling deeply once more, I try to catch an unknown scent. But like Luca stated, it just wasn't there. I could point out the rich wood and leather trace, but nothing of another person.

.

.

.

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© 2016 roxann_season All Rights Reserved

up next: Ansel POV.

Questions...

Should Luca, Imogen, Faith and Samson ignore the houses and just get to Williamstown as fast as possible? Or should they use this time to actually look into the things Fatima cannot remember?

Show of hands... who wants Cynthia gone? LOL!

Anyone still have faith in Danny?

(I'm just the writer but I do!! I will say he is no Pat... but it's just all the guilt. Everyone is so angry with what he's saying that they're not seeing that he is WILLING to throw Cynthia under the bus.)