This startled the blonde. In a home so nicely decorated and appeared to be normal, why would this high-tech weaponry be found here? In a mahogany dresser drawer of all places. She studied the black item, it was obviously disassembled behind the glass case. And for some reason, she knew it was a MP5 and it wasn’t there for show and tell. How the hell would I know what kind of gun this is? She thought, surprised with herself. It’s not a gun, it’s a submachine gun. Her thoughts corrected and she shook her head, okay, now you talk? But, she wasn’t going to hold a conversation with her self when she already knew the answers, they both didn’t know anything.

     She decided that she was going to get dressed and explore a little more, there has to be someone else around, she thought. I’ll just wear this and go from there. She put the dress on and a pair of black paramilitary boots she found, and left the room. Wondering around, she came to realize that this wasn’t any ordinary house, it was a mansion. The kind where the President resides type of mansion. Now she was certain she didn’t live here, the place was too cold, and void of life.

     The girl couldn’t remember anything, but she was sure that she wouldn’t like to live like this, so withdrawn from the world. She knew that she was young, at least still in her teens, but she didn’t know anything else. Where were her parents? Why was she alone? And most importantly, why did she get the odd feeling, that she was being watched.

     CAMERA 04s watched her walk through the mansions main hall entrance. The blonde was immediately identified as a yellow grid pattern displayed on the screen, overlaying her form in real time with her information popping up beside her body in color.

     ID: SECURITY OPERATIVE

     Name: SPENCER CARLIN

     Age: 17

     Rank: Classified

     She was at level 00, it was a safe level so far. The only measure at this time to  take, was to record. And it did as she walked to the front hall.

     The place was huge. A ball could be held in there. Windows lined one side of the walls, and leather seats lined the opposite side of the windows. The floor was made out of a brown marble and there was a six foot statue, in-bedded against a far wall of an angel with large wings covered in what appeared to be plastic and another that matched it on the opposite side; two large lamps stood on either side of it. The place was spotless and hollow, just like an expensive office building, were it doesn’t matter how you walk, or what you have on, you can always hear the echoing of your footsteps, hollow.