Randal was discomfited.  Not only by what was happening, but that others had witnessed it.  The loss of control was unsettling, more, troubling since he hadn’t a clue what it was or what caused this total disruption. It was as if he’d become someone else, seeing through someone else’s eyes.

Damara.  Damara.  What was so compellingly evil about her?  For that’s what he felt.  Her venom filled eyes had trained on him specifically.  Her questions of Sherry were about him, related only to him.  Whether Sherry was or could become a target worried him. Why him?  What was their connection?  One existed, that was a given.

For one instant he’d known that face, seen that face, elsewhere.  He felt as though they were opponents, adversaries in an unholy fight, the results of which could be catastrophic and involve many.

Damn this was beyond frustrating.  If he could place himself back in that state, perhaps he’d find his answers. The question was how?  What was the ultimate trigger?  Was it happenstance, planned, controlled?  He had no answers and didn’t know where to begin looking.  A puzzle piece he couldn’t begin to fathom which annoyed him all the more.

Sherry went on with her classes.  When she finished, she returned to her office with the intent of finding out more about Damara.  Oddly all the information on file had been wiped.  It was as if she’d never enrolled, paid or participated.  She was simply gone. 

Sherry sat back in her floating chair and pondered the situation.  She wondered what Randal would make of this!

 

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