S2 TRUST NO ONE
1357 Words
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The street around Emberly felt too bright, too focused, as if the entire city had narrowed into a single spotlight trained on her trembling hands. Silas stood in front of her—calm, composed, watching her with a fascination that felt both dangerous and deliberate. She couldn’t decide whether he seemed impressed or amused by her unraveling.
“I don’t trust you,” Emberly managed, her throat dry.
Silas’s lips curved into something between a smirk and a pitying smile. “Good,” he said. “You shouldn’t. Not yet.”
The “yet” hit her harder than anything else.
He walked past her, hands in the pockets of his dark coat. “Come,” he said without looking back. “Let me show you something.”
“No.” Emberly didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Silas stopped. Slowly, he turned his head just enough for her to see the cold sharpness in his eyes. “You think you have the luxury of choice?”
That froze her.
“Someone stole your files,” Silas said, voice lowering. “Someone who knew exactly where they were. Someone who knows what you are. Every second you stand still is a second they get closer.”
Her heart hammered. “Who are they?”
Silas stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “The same people who killed your father.”
The words punched the air from her lungs.
He watched her reaction with unsettling precision. “If I wanted you dead,” he added softly, “it would’ve already happened. If I wanted you captured, you wouldn’t be standing here. Use your instincts, Emberly. They’ve kept you alive so far.”
He turned again. “Now come.”
Emberly hesitated, torn violently between fear and the desperate need for answers. Every instinct screamed not to follow him… but another instinct—the one tucked deep in her bones—told her that walking away might be far more dangerous.
So she followed.
---
The Ride
Silas guided her into the passenger seat of his sleek black car. He didn’t touch her—didn’t try to intimidate her physically. He didn’t need to. His control came from the certainty in his voice, the confidence in his movements.
She buckled her seatbelt with shaky fingers.
Silas glanced at her. “You look like someone who’s about to jump out of the car.”
“I am,” she muttered.
“Good.” He started the engine. “Fear sharpens the senses.”
They drove through the city. Emberly watched the buildings blur past, but her mind was racing in too many directions to focus. Every few blocks Silas would check the mirrors—not casually, but with trained precision. Tracking. Calculating.
“Are we being followed?” Emberly asked.
Silas didn’t look at her. “Always.”
Her hands clenched her knees.
He drove them into a part of the city Emberly had never seen—industrial, forgotten, painted in graffiti and the dust of old factories. When he pulled into a dimly lit underground parking area, Emberly’s breath caught.
“This is where you kill me, isn’t it?” she whispered.
Silas parked. Turned off the engine.
Turned to her.
“If I was going to kill you,” he said softly, “I wouldn’t make you wait for it.”
Her stomach twisted with both terror and something far more confusing—excitement? Intrigue? She hated herself for the flicker of curiosity burning under her fear.
“Get out,” Silas said gently.
She did.
---
The Safehouse
He led her into an abandoned textile factory. Inside, the darkness shifted with movement—shadows of old machines, hanging wires, and dust floating in stale beams of light drifting through broken windows.
It looked like a place secrets went to rot.
But one room was different.
Silas unlocked a metal door and pushed it open to reveal a spotless interior—white boards filled with scribbled diagrams, photos pinned to walls, files stacked on tables. Screens flickered with maps, digital logs, and video feeds.
Emberly’s breath hitched.
It wasn’t abandoned.
It wasn’t forgotten.
It was a war room.
And she was at the center of it.
Silas gestured for her to enter. She did. The door shut behind them with a heavy metallic thud.
Her eyes scanned the walls—until they stopped on a board titled:
THEEMBERLYPROJECT
Her voice cracked. “What is this?”
Silas stepped beside her. “This is everything they kept from you.”
She stared at the timeline stretching across the wall:
The day she was found in the orphanage.
The day her memories began showing anomalies.
The day her father died—marked with a red circle.
“You’re lying,” Emberly whispered. “My father died in a car crash.”
Silas placed a folder in her hands.
“Open it.”
She hesitated.
“Emberly,” he murmured, “you came here for the truth. This is it.”
She opened the folder.
Inside were autopsy photos. Reports. Blood analysis. Damage inconsistent with a car accident. And a final note:
Cause of death: Internal trauma inflicted before vehicle collision.
Her knees weakened.
Silas caught her elbow lightly—not intimate, but steady. “Easy.”
“stop,” Emberly whispered. “Stop. I can’t—”
“You can.” His voice softened. “You must.”
She shut her eyes tightly.
For a moment her mind spun—
—and a memory projection hit her like a sudden blackout.
A man running through a hallway.
Blood on his shirt.
A voice shouting, “We have to get her out—!”
A child crying.
A silver locket slipping from a panicked hand.
Emberly gasped and stumbled back from Silas as the projection ended.
He watched her carefully. “Another memory?”
She didn’t answer.
He took a step toward her—but she backed up until her shoulders hit the cold wall.
“Don’t come closer,” she said, shaking.
Silas raised both hands calmly. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then tell me why I’m seeing memories that aren’t mine!”
Silas’s eyes sharpened.
“Because your father made sure you wouldn’t die for his mistakes.”
The room seemed to tilt again.
“What does that even mean?” she asked, voice breaking.
Silas exhaled. “Your father was a neuroscientist—not a businessman like the files claimed. He helped develop a cognitive-transfer prototype. A way to store memories outside the brain.” His gaze locked with hers. “You inherited fragments of the data he hid inside you.”
Emberly froze.
“Inside me?” she whispered.
Silas nodded once. “You are the storage device.”
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
“No,” she breathed. “That’s impossible.”
“Is it?” Silas motioned around the room. “You’ve been proving it every time you see something you shouldn’t.”
Emberly’s body trembled so hard she could barely stand. “Why me? Why would he do that to a child?”
Silas stepped closer—not touching her, but close enough for her to feel the warmth of his presence.
“Because he knew,” Silas said quietly, “that the people after him would never stop. And hiding his research in your mind was the only way to keep it safe.”
She stared at him, feeling her whole world crumble.
“He made you the key, Emberly,” Silas whispered. “And now everyone is searching for the lock.”
Her breath caught as something clicked inside her—a realization both horrifying and awakening.
She wasn’t remembering someone else’s life.
She was remembering secrets she was never meant to unlock.
Silas watched her expression shift.
“Now,” he said, stepping back, “you understand why you can trust no one.”
Emberly swallowed hard. “Not even you?”
Silas held her gaze for a long, shattering moment.
His voice was a whisper.
“Especially not me.”
- Writer
