Table Of Contents | |||||
Book 1 | Book 2 | Book 3 | Book 4 | Book 5 | Book 6 |
#SciFi #ScienceFiction #Futuristic #SpeculativeFiction #MindBending #Interdimensional #Otherworldly #PortalFiction #CosmicEncounter #ParallelRealities#GirlPower #YoungHeroes #UnexpectedHeroes #Teamwork #BraveGirls #EldritchHorror #UnknownEntity #BeyondTheVeil #DimensionalRift #AlienMystery#SciFiAdventure #RealityWarp #ExtraDimensional #StrangePhenomena #SupernaturalSciFi
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The frigid January morning bit through the windows of Ella`s bedroom, where the remnants of winter break lay scattered like the dreams they were reluctant to abandon.
Pizza boxes created a cardboard fortress around sleeping bags, and the familiar chaos of a sleepover night painted the room in comfortable disorder.
Ella rubbed the sleep from her eyes, taking inventory of her crew—all present, all equally disheveled, all sharing the same dread that hung in the frosty air. Hello Diary, It`s me, Ella Damn it all to hell—it`s back to school day.
I`m not ready for this.
The cold is biting, and my soul feels just as frozen.
Sorry, Diary, but I`m not doing it today. Everything`s a mess.
Pizza boxes everywhere, dirty clothes creating abstract art on the floor, shoes flung with the abandon only teenagers can muster.
We all smell like rebellion and stale pepperoni.
But God, I miss this—all of us together in one room.
I`m claiming the shower first, then we`re ditching this so-called education and finding something actually worth our time.
I`ll fill you in tonight...
if I survive whatever today throws at us. An Unexpected Mission "What the hell?" Ella`s voice cut through the morning air as she spotted the black limousine idling at the curb like a sleek predator.
The passenger door stood open, revealing their sister Patricia Rodriguez and her father, Admiral Paul Rodriguez, both wearing expressions that suggested this was anything but a social call. The girls rushed forward, their makeshift family instincts overriding any surprise, enveloping Patricia in a tangle of arms and barely contained questions. "What`s happening?" Eileen asked, her voice still thick with sleep but sharpened by concern. "Well," Patricia began, glancing between her father and her chosen sisters, "since you were planning to ditch anyway, Dad needs me at a briefing.
Military brass wants to discuss some strange aircraft they`ve encountered.
Apparently, they`ve even been inside one." Eileen`s eyes narrowed with familiar mischief.
"We really need to talk about keeping secrets from family, sister." Ella studied Admiral Rodriguez`s weathered face, seeing both the military commander and the man who`d accepted their unconventional sisterhood.
"Alright, Admiral Paul, but only because we love you." She stepped forward, surprising him with a fierce hug before gesturing subtly toward two figures doing yard work down the street.
Without hesitation, they dropped their rakes and moved toward a waiting car.
"But Beaker comes too.
We love you, but we don`t work for the military.
We work with people we trust." The Admiral`s slight smile suggested he`d expected nothing less.
As he opened his phone to make the necessary call, the girls piled into the limousine`s leather interior, followed at a discrete distance by their guardians` vehicle. The hotel meeting room felt sterile and official—small bleachers along one wall facing a podium, with a lower seating area that seemed designed to make visitors feel observed rather than welcomed.
Commander Beaker arrived moments after them, Melanie at his side, both wearing expressions of barely concealed concern. Beaker approached Admiral Rodriguez with military precision softened by genuine warmth.
"Always a pleasure, Admiral, and you know you`re welcome anytime.
But next time, let`s coordinate first." The exchange was friendly but carried an unmistakable message about boundaries and respect. An Unwelcome Presence Admiral Rodriguez took his position at the podium with practiced authority.
"Thank you all for coming.
We`re hoping this will be brief, but we need your expertise regarding a craft we`ve been studying for several years now.
The nature of this vehicle has proven...
challenging to understand." A chill that had nothing to do with January weather swept through the girls.
Their shared consciousness, that invisible thread connecting their minds, suddenly thrummed with alarm. Did you hear that? Eileen`s thought cut through their mental link like ice. Loud and clear, Helena responded, her otherworldly senses confirming what they all felt.
He`s one of them. Ella`s breathing quickened, her face flushing red as rage built like a storm in her chest.
That`s him! That`s one of those fucking monsters.
His face is burned into my memory like a brand.
I want to kill him.
Right here, right now. Calm down, precious, Eileen`s mental voice wrapped around Ella`s fury like a cooling balm.
Murder isn`t the answer.
Let`s make him live with the consequences of his choices.
Long and slow. "Excuse me, Admiral Paul," Ella`s voice cut through the briefing like a blade, every eye in the room turning toward her.
"We have a serious problem that needs addressing before we can proceed." Admiral Rodriguez paused, recognizing the shift in atmosphere.
"What`s the issue, Ella?" Ella`s finger shot toward the top row of bleachers like an accusation made manifest.
"You! Frederick, Fred, Freddy, or whatever name you`re hiding behind today.
Get down here.
Now!" Kissable Face "Girls, what`s happening?" Melanie`s voice carried both concern and warning.
"Let`s maintain some decorum." "Decorum?" Eileen`s laugh held no humor.
"Just listen to what we have to say." Ella`s voice grew deadly quiet, each word precisely placed like stones in a foundation of justice.
"You know we`re sensitives.
You know we`ve encountered each other before.
We can hear thoughts directed at us, and yours are absolutely disgusting." The room held its collective breath as Ella continued, her voice growing stronger with each revelation.
"`What kissable faces, especially the dark ones.` `Those soft, lovely, luscious lips.` `I can`t decide which one to fuck first.`" "Normally, we`d chalk up crude thoughts to typical male stupidity and move on.
We`ve learned to filter out most of the garbage men think when they look at us.
But you—you`re different.
You`re dangerous." The temperature in the room seemed to drop another ten degrees as Ella pressed forward.
"Our sister Margaret was your subordinate, and you raped her.
You and your buddies, over and over again, like it was some kind of game." "You`ve done this to other subordinates, students, even your own cousin.
And now you think you can add us to your collection? You picked the wrong crew, you sick bastard." Roxana`s voice cracked like a whip through the tension.
"We`re fifteen, you fucking pervert!" Admiral Rodriguez`s military bearing snapped into crisis mode.
"That`s enough.
Guards, remove this man immediately and hold him for questioning." His voice carried the weight of absolute authority as Commander Beaker followed the guards out, his expression promising that formal charges would be the least of Frederick`s problems. Processing Trauma During the brief recess that followed, Melanie gathered the girls into a protective circle, her therapeutic training kicking in as she helped them process the unexpected confrontation.
The room`s other occupants watched with a mixture of confusion and growing understanding as she explained the situation. "You need to understand the depth of these girls` connection to Margaret`s trauma," Melanie addressed the room with professional calm masking personal pain.
"To help their sister heal, they performed what can only be described as a psychic mind-meld, sharing the burden of her memories to dilute the psychological damage." Her voice grew heavier with each word.
"They experienced those assaults as if they had happened to each of them personally.
The memories, the fear, the violation—all of it became part of their shared consciousness.
In trying to save Margaret, they absorbed her trauma and made it their own." The Craft After the girls had regained their composure—aided by several pizzas that appeared as if by magic—the meeting resumed with a notably lighter atmosphere. Admiral Rodriguez cleared his throat, his respect for the young women before him clearly elevated.
"On multiple occasions, we`ve encountered craft of unknown origin.
These vehicles appear without warning in residential areas, witnessed by multiple credible sources.
What makes these incidents particularly concerning is the reported abductions—not just civilians, but military personnel as well." He paused, organizing his thoughts.
"Abductees report being introduced to young beings claimed to be their offspring, created from genetic material allegedly harvested during previous encounters.
While such reports aren`t uncommon—we`ve documented hundreds over recent decades—these particular craft behave differently." "In typical cases, we can track vehicles from low Earth orbit to their destinations.
We`ve successfully intercepted several such craft.
I rescued my own daughter from one of these interceptions.
But these new vehicles simply materialize from nowhere and vanish just as completely when their mission concludes." "Witnesses describe interiors that defy physics—spaces thousands of times larger than the external dimensions, with visible landscapes that blend familiar Earth environments with clearly alien terrain.
Patricia, you grew up on such craft.
Helena, you`re an interdimensional entity experiencing human existence.
Do either of you have insights into the nature of these vehicles?" Helena gestured to Patricia with a slight smile.
"Experience trumps theory.
You go first, sister." Patricia leaned forward, her unique background evident in her measured response.
"Dad`s right about the differences.
My ship—and she is a living being, not a machine—has extended spatial domains, but we don`t pop in and out of existence.
We phase between dimensions, which is entirely different.
But I have heard of the type you`re describing.
They`re technological rather than biological—sophisticated portal mechanisms that can project anywhere in space-time." Helena nodded thoughtfully.
"Patricia`s correct.
These are fascinating constructs—portable time-space portals capable of projecting to any point in time and space.
The computational requirements are staggering.
They must calculate planetary rotation, solar orbits, galactic movement, temporal fluctuations—even accounting for projections into past or future timelines." "Across cosmic distances, concepts of past and future become meaningless.
When they`re here, they`re here now, because now is the only temporal reference we can experience.
When beings enter these craft, they exist simultaneously on their home world and at the projection point.
The same applies to anyone they take aboard—you exist in multiple locations and times simultaneously.
That`s why the visual experience is so disorienting, showing multiple places and times blended together." She spread her hands apologetically.
"But if you`re hoping to capture one, forget it.
They exist in a state of quantum uncertainty—both here and not here simultaneously.
Trying to grab one would be like trying to catch something from a dream.
You`ll grasp nothing but air." The Long Drive Home The two-mile journey home stretched like an eternity through winter-stark streets.
The girls sat in uncharacteristic silence, their usual mental chatter replaced by a heavy quietude that spoke volumes about their emotional state.
Even Commander Beaker and Melanie understood that words would be unwelcome intrusions in this moment of processing.
Hello Diary, It`s me, Ella I`m wounded in ways I can`t fully articulate.
All I want to do is curl up and cry until this pain stops echoing through my chest.
Melanie warned us about this—PTSD from trauma that wasn`t technically ours, but absolutely is.
Anything that hurts my sisters hurts me.
We`re connected in ways that make individual experience impossible. I had murder in my heart today.
Not just anger or fantasy, but actual premeditated thoughts about stopping that monster`s heart or pushing him into traffic.
We have abilities that could make such thoughts reality, and that terrifies me.
I know it`s wrong to think such things, and even more wrong to act on them, but for a moment there, I almost did.
Melanie says our therapy is incomplete.
I think she`s right. The only silver lining is that Commander Beaker got us excused from school, and he`s taking action against that predator through channels that don`t involve bureaucratic delays.
He has his own methods for dealing with monsters. I`m exhausted beyond physical tiredness—this is soul-deep weariness.
I`m going to try to sleep, though I`m afraid of what dreams might come.
I`ll write again tomorrow, assuming I survive whatever nightmares tonight brings.
Until then, Ella
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