“Every time I think about Level 02 and the testing that goes on there, my heart grows cold. Military cyborgs we’re developing there. Cold blooded killers.” She wondered again if Shelley’s old husband Arthur Kill (“Old Arthur”) was possibly part of these experiments.
“Let’s just get this visit over,” The Mann said back, concentrating on navigating the tricky staircase down to the basement of the manor, which will become The Mannor soon if he has his ways.
—–
“See?” he said at the cell’s door. “There’s the old hag of a witch. You’re *not* Mid-Hazel or Hazel Wood or whatever she calls herself these days. You’re different.”
“I just remember the–”
“You remember nothing. Dreams, I say. Dreams of a parallel existence perhaps, but… there she is and here you are. Separate but definitely not equal. You are good–”
“I have a red eye,” she quickly countered. “Some call me Red because of it.”
“AND… you have a blue one. Balance. You are not her,” he doubled down.
She decided now was a good time to test the sentence again. “How’s your *girl* today?”
Sunklands 