Where has this week disappeared off to? It’s time for the final instalment of my sci-fi serial already! I know the sci-fi element doesn’t exactly jump out so much, but if I was to take this further (purely theoretically speaking, of course) it’d be more obvious. Trust me on this, okay? Good.

Just like with yesterday’s post it’s not necessary that you’ve read the previous two posts to understand this one, but for the sake of completion you might want to read them anyway, if you haven’t already. You can find them here: Immortal 1 & Immortal 2

Now, today’s post is a little different to the last two. It’s a bit longer but, more importantly, it’s in 3rd person. Both ladies come together this time and I thought it’d be easier to tell their story that way, to include both minds more easily. It focuses on Dena, but let me know if it’s confusing 🙂 (also, their names are still subject to change, so don’t get too attached to them)

BIG thank you to everyone who has read the last two posts and left feedback. I love you for it and you know it means a lot. You’re all awesome and I hope you know it ❤

Happy reading! 🙂


A light came on in the corridor outside the door, its pale glow leaking through the narrow gap into the office. Dena rushed, knowing she was running out of time.

The office was a mess. Papers were lying scattered across the floor and opened folders lay on their fronts among the loose paperwork. She had only been here for twenty minutes but she had managed to go through most of the files in that time. There’d been nothing. No evidence that Life Corp. had anything to do with her, no sign of their connection to her life.

Feeling the pressure and adrenaline rise through her Dena went through another stack of papers. There had to be something. Her sources were reliable, they wouldn’t have sent her here if they weren’t sure that this was the right place.

“Come on, where are you!” In the corridor footsteps ran past. People shouted instructions, the metallic sound of a hospital bed being rushed past accompanied the hectic voices. There was no reason for anyone to come in here at this time of night. The man from the name plaque on the door would be asleep by now, and the cleaners had finished the room hours ago. She had watched them carefully, not willing to make a mistake tonight.

Still, she had to hurry. She couldn’t risk being seen now, unlikely as that was, especially by an employee of Life Corp.

Cursing under her breath, Dena sent the papers flying across the room. She had gone through everything, and had turned up empty.

Sighing in defeat, she slumped against the cold metal of the filing cabinet and slid down to the floor. If Life Corp. had any answers for her at all they weren’t here. The only thing of any value she had found was the address of their head quarters on some distant planet she had only been to twice. Why they would settle there was beyond her, it had been a dry wasteland last time she had visited. Of course, that had been several hundred years ago. She would go there next, but wasn’t sure whether she could expect any better results. The man in this office was the owner of this hospital, and the head manager of Life Corp. If he had nothing, there was a good chance she wouldn’t find anything at their main site either.

She held her breath when the door opened slightly, her hand on her gun in an instant. The footsteps that followed shuffled uncomfortably across the room, changing directions and pausing several times. Dena smiled. Someone else who wasn’t supposed to be here had entered the room. It never ceased to amuse her how famous people, rich people, who expected the least amount of trouble received the most.

In one fluid movement she jumped to her feet, her gun pointed in the direction of the unexpected intruder.

“Don’t move.” Whatever reason this person had for being here, maybe she knew something. Maybe there was a secret compartment Dena didn’t know about that this lady was about to pull out.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving.”

“I don’t think so. Sit, and tell me why you’re here.” The woman had had enough sense to shut the door behind her. If they spoke quietly enough no one would be able to overhear their conversation. People in hospitals usually had better things to do than to press their ears to the doors of an empty office at two in the morning. They’d be save, as long as they kept it down.

Shaking, the woman did as Dena had asked. She closed her hands around something small, and began to whisper.

“Save yourself the trouble. There’s no God up there, listening to you.”

Whoever this woman was, she wouldn’t be a problem. She looked like a rabbit caught in a snare, shaking and hoping for a miracle. But there was something else about her, too. A strange confidence Dena had never seen before, in anyone.

The woman shook her head. “I know. I’m talking to my daughter, not some God.”

Dena paused. Losing a child was a pain she knew all too well.

“Why are you here?”

The woman bit her lip. “They have a picture of my daughter. I want to take it with me, before I go. It shouldn’t be here, it doesn’t belong to him.”

Dena couldn’t help but stare at the strange woman. “You’ve broken into this office to steal a picture?”

She nodded. “Why are you here? I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“You’re awfully calm for someone who has a gun pointed at their head.”

The woman smiled. “I had the Immortality Cure procedure done. I’m the first human to be made immortal. You can’t kill me.” She didn’t look so sure of herself as she said that, but Dena couldn’t blame her for that. Unlike her this woman wasn’t used to not dying. It explained her strange confidence, too.

“You’re not.”

“I’m not what?”

Dena sighed. This was wasting her time. “Do you know anything about Life Corp.?” She had been a patient here, and for some reason the manager had a picture of her daughter. Maybe she knew something of value.

The woman nodded. “A little. My daughter worked for them before she- She was a scientist, the Life Cure was her baby.” Her voice had started shaking. There was more to it than that, and Dena needed to know it all.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“Help yourself. There’s a folder under the carpet by the desk. It’s got all the information they have in it.”

Suspicious, Dena checked the carpet around the desk. To the right the carpet looked lose, as if it had been patched up badly. A shuffle of her foot was all that was needed to shove the carpet aside and reveal the folder underneath.

“Why are you handing this over to me if your daughter worked on it?”

The woman bit her lip. “I have lost my husband and my only child. I don’t much care if you read their research or not, I just want her picture.”

Dena nodded. She understood perfectly the pain this woman was suffering through.

Lowering her gun she picked up the folder, and headed for the door. It was silent outside, no one would see her if she slipped out now.

The other woman was still sitting in the chair, her hands closed protectively around the small object. By the small golden chain falling over her fingers Dena guessed that it was a locket.

She had what she had come for. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.

She opened the door but paused, and turned around.

“What’s your name?”

“Margo.” Usually she didn’t care. Margo was no threat to her, but she had a feeling she would see her again. Her daughter had developed the Immortality Cure. She doubted it, but maybe their lives were connected somehow. “What’s yours?”

“Dena.” Her name had left her lips before she could stop herself. She never revealed who she was to anyone. It was too much of a risk – a risk she only took with people she had known for a long time or with people she was about to kill. Margo was neither. Her hand twitched back to her gun, felt the leather hilt under her fingers. She couldn’t allow lose ends. Who knew who Margo might report to?

With another twitch, her hand moved away from the weapon. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Without turning back again she left the room and shut the door behind her. She had new information to study. That was all that mattered.


All writing belongs to the author, Sarina Langer.

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