The Dark Ghost??? (Travis)

They took me into a dark, stuffy room that needed some serious dusting. I sat at a table, which had a lamp like the ones in those cheesy good-cop bad-cop movies.

Just perfect.

I've been sitting here for about half an hour with no one but two guards in the room–one of them just fell asleep. I looked around to see if there were any exits; anything from doors, to small openings in the wall. Nothing.

One of the guards–the one that wasn't snoring their brains off–was looking at me, as if I was a test rat to be dissected. I glared, eyes like acid. She smirked, and went back to her guarding position.

"You're not going to find an escape route anywhere in here, kid. We made sure to keep this entire facility impossible to escape. So you're doomed to stay in this room until someone shows up, but I like your reaction. Reminds me of our toughest prisoner here at the center." She stated, as if she was proud to keep such a guy. Well, I now know who I'll fight come lunch. That is, if I even get out of this poor excuse of an interrogation room. Although, the guy's probably not that good considering he could still be locked up in this dump. I might as well brush up any info I can while I'm in here.

"So, lady, what's the guy like? I'm sure he can't be that great if he's still stuck here, right? Even someone like you shouldn't speak so proudly of someone who's still locked up."

She slipped me a slight glance of annoyance as she directed her attention to her snoozing partner. She sighed. "Out of all the guards off duty, Letta had to give me 'Dosing Duffy'." The name suited the fat guard well.

She went to the table and sat in the chair across from me, so I studied her face. Her brown hair was pulled back into a low ponytail and there were dark circles under her blue eyes, she looked defeated. "First of all, my name is Meg. Secondly, the 'guy' has been through so many breakouts and captures that the kid wanted to take a break as well as give all us guards a rest."

Is this a game to him? To start and stop when the enemy becomes tired and lets them rest? Maybe the guy doesn't want to leave. He's mentally insane.

I turned my attention back to the guard, hoping that she didn't realize I wasn't listening. She didn't.

"Plus, the ongoing visits to our resistance station has worn the kid down. However, Alex refuses to break, and continues to resist in any way possible. This kid has the strongest will the Center has ever seen. The other Advisors want to control Alex for their own 'military benefit'. Personally, I'm all against it, but I don't have a say considering that I'm a guard."

I lifted my eyebrow in questioning.

Meg smirked, "Advisors, with an o, are the highest power in the Center, after them is the Advisers, with an e, who are each assigned one of the students here. Below the Advisers are the guards. The guards, well, guard all places such as the cafeteria, gymnasium, and the bathrooms as well as hallways. The most are stationed near Alex. The guards are everywhere and see everything since they are security. Me, I'm an Adviser and a part-time guard. I only guard when people like you are interrogated or sent on missions."

A ton of questions filled my head; that was a lot to take in all at once. So, I started with the simplest one, "So, Meg," she smirked at me, "the guy's name is Alex? That's actually pretty tough."

She laughed. Apparently there was an inside joke that I didn't know about.

"What's so funny?" I squinted at her. She stopped laughing, though her eyes still held onto the amusement.

"Yes, the kid's name is Alex. Tough? They're pretty tough, but not exterior-wise. It's shown in their attitude and action more than anything else," she laughed, getting up from her chair.

"Any other questions?"

Strangely, all of the other questions I had lined up vanished. It's like that was all the info I needed.

"Nope." He's tough. So tough that his shell is like a diamond, almost impossible to penetrate. That would be my presumption. Yea, this was all I needed.

About thirty minutes later a white-haired old lady came into the room. Her posture was defiantly not that of an old lady, but was more like a trained soldier. She had a scar that ran over her left eye. That, her hair pulled back into a bun, and her green army-like uniform, made her look like a dictator. She's probably one of the "Advisors" that the guard was talking about earlier. She might even be the head, considering how she seems so intimidating. What also brought me to that accusation was that she had two guards behind her left and right.

Her voice was powerful and angry.

"I am Advisor Letta," yep, I was right, "consider me as the head, or, better yet, your boss."

Oh, so right.

She placed one of her wrinkled hands on her hip and the other on the table, so she could stare at me at eye level. Her eyes were black, cold, and fiery, almost as if she's seen death, died, and came back to life.

I shivered, and she grinned in satisfaction. Her grin was so menacing that, even when happy, could make any kid cry. There was nothing wrong with her teeth, as in no "yellow crooked mess of a mouth", or "no teeth in general", but they weren't white either. I crossed my arms, leaning back in the chair.

Voice calm and even, I eyed her, "Well, Advisor Letta, would you care to tell me why I'm here? There shouldn't be any record of me conflicting with the law."

She glared at me for two seconds before she stood up straight and started to walk slowly around me, placing both of her hands behind her back.

"Yes, aren't you just the perfect little angel." Her sarcasm was like dripping acid. "I brought you here because you're the only one willing to accept this task."

I stood up abruptly, slamming my hands to the table, causing the lamp to wobble and flicker, "Who the hell said that I'm even gonna take your damn missi–"

She put up her finger to silence me, using her other hand to stop the guards who were reaching for their guns. The old hag is really starting to piss me off.

"Calm down. If you let me explain to you the situation, then we won't have to stay in this room longer than expected. Sit down."

Every once of my mind resisted but my body yielded to her forceful glare. I sat in my seat and folded my arms over my chest once more. She placed her hands behind her back and continued to walk, as if nothing happened. I watched her with the look of disgust.

"Well, it is true that you have no documentation of conflict with our forces, but your sister is another matter, is she not?"

I froze, eyes wide.

She continued in a satisfactory tone, "Yes, I do believe your sister, Gabrielle, has quite some records on file. Drunk driving, seducing and sleeping with the officers to get out of speeding tickets, oh and there was one particular incident that tops it all off," she stopped right in front of me, her body was turned to the side and she looked at me with the utmost pleasure.

I couldn't breathe. I knew what she was gonna say. I thought it in my head the exact same time that she said it aloud:

"The death of your parents."

The death of my parents.

I stood up immediately, my hands into tight fists at my sides, and head down. Teeth clenched, I practically growled at her, "I do not know what your forces have reported to you, but I swear on my life that my sister did not kill my mother or my father. I have no clue as to who killed them, but I assure you," I slammed my fist to the table, raising my head so I could glare right into her soul, "how could someone trembling next to me be murdering my family in the other room?! How could that innocent girl destroy her own happiness?! A monster killed them; hell I even heard freakin laughter coming from the other room! Never say that Gabrielle killed them ever again, or I swear to God that I will kill you!" My chest was heaving from my outburst of rage.

Advisor Letta was still. Her eyes were wide in shock and, maybe, a hint of fear, the smallest ounce of fear the world has ever seen, but it was still fear.

Meg was the same, only with sadness as she stared at the ground. The two guards, who were supposedly behind the old hag, backed up to the wall with horror.

"…The…D-Dark A-Apparition…" whispered the tall, bald, lean guard on the right in utter fear. He was turning white at the mention of the name along with the other guard.

I raised my eyebrow, confused. Advisor Letta quickly returned to her senses and swiftly turned to the guards, glaring at them so intensely that I could feel her rage from behind her. She was obviously doing this to get them to shut up.

I glanced over to Meg. She was leaning against the wall with her head looking toward the floor, obviously reminiscing, but she was engulfed in sadness. She looked over at me with tears in her eyes; they were the same blue eyes but faded as if they were glazed over. She was looking at me but no really seeing me. I was completely confused.

Looking from Meg to the hag, I couldn't help but think of that name: Dark Apparition. Come to think of it, Meg started to get sad when it was mentioned.

Advisor Letta was still staring down the two guards, but she stood-up straight as I began to find my voice.

Surprisingly shaky I asked, "Who's this 'Dark Apparition'?"

Sighing, she turned fully to face me with her dark eyes devious, matching her smile. There goes that menacing smile of hers.

"I can get those idiots to keep quiet, but you're certainly a different matter. Very well. This is linked to you, after all. Dark Apparition was the child's codename, or nickname, as you would say. Dark use to work for the military as their top spy, killing those whom have plotted against the president or, worse, murdered the innocent. Dark was like America's secret terrorist extinguisher, whom, if seen, appeared as 'a ghost' or 'Death'. The best child in the business, better than any of the adults," she smiled to herself before turning serious, "However, the kid turned rouge after they quit, and started to kill out of pure pleasure. We tried to hunt Dark down, following all witnesses whom claimed the kid told them to fear the name 'Dark Apparition,' but we came to a dead end. The child refuses to give in and resists to the most extreme extent. If we convince the kid to return to the military, then we could control our once sane Apparition. So that's the story."

Meg was glaring at Letta as well as showing a disgusted expression, mouthing a word that I thought was Lie. I focused on the old hag.

"So how is this 'Dark Ghost' linked to me?" She folded her skinny arms over her chest and smirked as if something was funny.

I looked at Meg once before turning back to the Advisor; she was looking away and hugging herself. She knew. Advisor Letta started to laugh. Still standing, I began to feel fear in the pit of my stomach.

"The Apparition is linked to you, Travis," she stated, still chuckling, "because there is a definite possibility that they killed your parents."

I froze.

My mind flashed back to that time. There was red blood stretched down the hall to our darkened hiding room. Dark laughter flooded from the room down the hall. The room, where we left my parents.

That laugh,

So tortured.

It burned into my mind…the laughter of him…

Dark Apparition.