The snow settled outside. The sun was long gone. The moon shone brightly in the middle of the star-filled sky. Everyone was asleep in the ungodly hour. But a little figure sat in front of the warm fire, with a mug of Christmas tea in hand. The orange illuminated her gentle features. Her blond hair fixed in a messy bun. Her emerald eyes on the fireplace. She made herself comfortable in the dark, with a hand-knitted Christmas sweater.

Alone. It was normal for her. Most of her memories were a blur before she was nine. And now she was eighteen. Her parents disappeared. She never knew why. Only remembering a blonde soldier breaking the news to her. Everything before that was all a blur. Even if she tries to remember, she couldn't. It was like the memories were erased from her hard drive.

She lived in a large empty mansion. She assumed her parents were loaded and it wasn't too bad for her. But due to the size of the place, it gets lonely. Maybe a little too lonely. No siblings. No maids nor butlers. It was just her. Every day felt the same. One endless loop. She can't go outside. Not even the backyard. Did she have a backyard?

Not only that, she couldn't contact the outside world. It was like living under a rock. The news was the only thing that was connecting her to the outside. All of the windows and doors were locked. She tried, but it wouldn't budge. She wondered if there was anyone outside the house.

Important items, such as food and clothing were always delivered to her. Someone or something drops a package into the small slot beside the door. Every week, a package would arrive. And once in a month, clothes would come in the package. But she never went grocery shopping. Everything was provided in the house.

She wondered every day, was there someone trying to prevent her to leave? And why? What was so horrible outside to the point they wouldn't allow her to leave at all? She wished to go outside. Getting sun-kissed for once. Her skin was awfully pale. You could have mistaken her as a corpse if she was asleep.

The blonde felt someone's gaze on her. Turning to the door, she saw a figure. Small petit frame, slightly glowing in purple. She rubbed her eyes, thinking it was her brain fooling her.

"Nice mansion," the figure approached her. Their voice had a Mexican accent.

The blonde pushed herself to the other end of the couch, watching the figure step into the light, revealing itself. The figure was a girl. Her outfit was purple and black. Her hair shaved on one side. Her nails were purple. But it looked like she was mixed with tech. It wouldn't be a surprise if she was some kind of tech genius.

"You live alone here?" The stranger asked.

The blond eighteen-year-old nodded.

The stranger whistled, "Lucky you, huh?"

She shook her head.

"Why not?" the stranger looked around, "You're kinda lonely here, right? This place is big. But so empty."

She slowly nodded.

"I'm Sombra if you're wondering," the purple girl began walking around the house. "Dios Mio, all these are worth millions," Sombra muttered quietly.

Sombra's index finger went to the earpiece in her ear. She fell silent, turning to the girl on the couch. Sombra nodded and approached her.

"You've been outside before?" Sombra asked, her eyes keep looking at the door.

She pushed herself to the other end of the couch, which was nearer to the entrance of the mansion. She shook her head again.

"Wanna see what the outside looks like?" Sombra approached the door, her hand on the knob. "I can easily let you out," her hand twisted the doorknob. The door opened slowly as she pushed it.

The blonde placed her mug on the coffee table. As she quickly got up, running to the door. How did she do it? How did she open it? She turned to Sombra, who was leaning on the other door. She could easily run out of there. But where would she go?

"But," Sombra seized her by the wrist. "Where would you be going?"

Her eyes trailed to Sombra's hand. The long purple nails wrapped around her wrist. Sombra's skin was darker and it had more colour than her pale white skin. Her gaze went to Sombra's face, as she shrugged.

"How about…" she paused as if trying to stall, "You follow me. And my crew would take care of you. I promise you would see the world."

The blond bit her lip. What other choices she had? She looked behind, silently saying goodbye to her home. Or rather her prison. Her gaze went back to Sombra, nodding.

Sombra smirked, "Alright then, let's go."

Sombra went out of the door, her hand still locked on blondie's wrist. As her leg began to move, "Wait!" a sweet voice, which had a British accent called out. Blondie turned around, seeing a figure similar to Sombra. But her outfit was different. She wore orange google like glasses and a blue core was on her torso. Her shoes looked like grey crocs.

"She's the bad guy, love," the British spoke, her hand was out.

"Oh please, that's what a bad guy would say to trick the innocent," Sombra rolled her eyes, the grip on the blonde's wrist tightens.

Her emerald eyes went to the British. Her hair was brown and short. She seemed sweet and nice. She was wearing yellow leggings. The blue core highlighted the room. The blonde tried to pull herself free. Sombra noticed this, "Hey hey, what are you trying to do?" she pulled her, a little rougher than friendly. She sounded desperate.

The blonde shifted her gaze to the British. "Please, love," she pleaded, "Trust me." The Brit's hand went into her pocket, as she pulled out something. It was a small pin. But it triggered something inside the eighteen-year-old. A flashback of memory flooded to her. She remembered the blonde soldier. He gave her a hairpin. And it has the exact symbol.

She looked up to the tall figure. He looked young and he had blonde hair, just like her's. His uniform was dark blue, he had a square blue glass on his eye. His eyes were breathtakingly blue. He said something to her. And she sobbed, bursting into tears right after. She looked down to her pink dress, staring at her pink ribbon shoes. Her arms rubbing her eyes, trying to stop herself from crying. But she couldn't. She lost her parents. The soldier pulled her into a hug, letting the little girl cry into his shoulder. He pulled away, wiping her tears. His hand reached into his pocket. He showed a hairpin to her. It had a symbol. "If you see someone with this symbol, you can trust them," he said, as he tucked the pin onto her hair.

She pulled out the hairpin. Looking at the symbol, then looking at the British woman. "You're one of them..." the blonde muttered quietly. She pulled herself away from Sombra. Approaching slowly to the brunette.

Sombra pressed the earpiece, "Plan B, she's converting to Overwatch."

The windows broke. Next thing she knew, a whole crew was in the living room. Their eyes locked onto the blonde. The British grabbed her by the wrist and started running down the hallway.

"It's nice that you remembered," The Brit turned behind, smiling sweetly at the blonde. "Just don't look behind you."

They continued running until someone stopped them. Forcing the two to split. The brunette went into the room on the left, as the blonde went into the right. She looked around the room. Of all the room she had to enter, she entered the small storeroom. Oh golly, she went to the other door in the room. She twisted the doorknob. Locked. She gave the door a rattle. Stuck. The wood floor behind her creaked. She turned almost too fast.

Word Count: 1,348

Last Update: DD/MM/YYYY: 13/12/2019