The Mimic Novels & Stories

I said as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. "I love mint choco." He said and I stopped. "Disgusting!" I hissed and he laughed. "Why is that disgusting? It's good." "I feel like brushing my teeth when I eat that flavour." I shook my head. "Do you have a pet?" He asked. "I have a black labrador at home. How about you?" "Really? I have a labrador too!" He said and I turned to him completely surprised. "Millie.. her name." "Blue.. his name." I turned to him and looked at him straight into his eyes.

Ang kanyang mga mata, na dati ay kayumanggi, ay panandaliang nag-flicker sa kulay violet. ​Hindi siya clone, at hindi rin siya cyborg. Siya ay isang Bio-Mimic—isang bagong creation ni Vane kung saan ang bawat cell ay isang micro-computer na kayang gayahin ang human tissue hanggang sa antas ng DNA. ​Naglakad siya patungo sa nursery kung nasaan si Alexander. Ang bawat hakbang niya ay hindi naririnig ng mga sensors dahil ang kanyang katawan ay naglalabas ng isang Frequency Jammer.

She was writing something, her hand moving across paper in steady, mechanical strokes. "Mimic," Marcus whispered. They were Class D threats that copied human behavior. Dangerous because they looked normal until you got close enough for them to strike. This one had probably been here for years, sitting at that desk and waiting for someone stupid enough to approach. I'd killed Mimics before. The trick was speed. Get close, strike fast, don't let them react. I moved toward the desk. The woman kept writing. Three steps away. Two. One. I drove my blade through the back of her chair. The Mimic screamed—a sound that wasn't human at all. It twisted, faster than anythi

The three mimics on the floor below lit up in Jack's perception like counterfeit bills under ultraviolet light, their false signatures suddenly, obviously wrong. Jack folded space. He materialized in the corridor of the forty-seventh floor face-to-face with a perfect copy of himself. Same dark-gold eyes. Same gauntlets. Same predatory stance. The mimic smiled with Jack's smile. "Hello, Father-blood." Jack didn't hesitate. He drove the compass directly into the mimic's chest. The device's reality-frequency resonance clashed with the construct's void-language foundation. The mimic shrieked, its form

Mimi waved her hand. "Silly, did you think I actually have appendicitis? I’m just lying to him." The assistant was shocked. "Huh? Mimi, so you’re fine! You were so good at acting earlier." Mimi hurriedly covered the assistant's mouth nervously. “Can you keep your voice down? Are you a fool? Do you want everyone on the crew to know that I'm faking an illness by speaking so loudly?" The assistant quickly realized what happened and lowered her voice. "So, Mimi, there’s nothing wrong with your body?"

She likes him. I couldn’t help myself mimicking her and it didn’t free me from the eyes of the staff. They giggled and looked at me, as if they were saying that I needed to be patient when dealing with this woman. I smiled at them and went to the center. Stefan didn’t take long and went out of his tent. You heard it right, his tent. Hello, we’re indoors. I don’t see any reason for setting up a tent. His overflowing love for himself is showing. Yeah, he has issues.

I waited for an opening. The creature swung its arm. Elena ducked and struck its knee. It staggered. That was my chance. I lunged. The Widow-Maker entered its side. The creature shrieked. I pushed deeper. The blade struck something hard. Its core. The Mimic convulsed. A burst of black energy threw me backward. I crashed against the reception desk. Pain shot through my back. Elena stepped away as the creature collapsed. The System appeared. [Elite Mimic defeated.]

Noah Ellis had a theory about Mason Reed. The theory was this: Mason was the most self-aware person Noah had ever met who worked the hardest to pretend he wasn't. Everything Mason did, the jokes, the charm, the easy confidence that filled whatever room he walked into, was deliberate. Not fake, Noah had never thought it was fake, but deliberate, the way an architect is deliberate, building something functional and beautiful that also happened to hide its own foundations. Most people never looked for the foundations.

It was a period of transformation. Was all that loudness mere distractions? If a person wears his heart in his sleeves, then what does he hide beneath that chest? How can the silence be so mean and unforgiving? Does the refusal to speak simply means that there was nothing to be said anymore? In thirty days, a butterfly's life will be complete, coming out of the cocoon as a changed and majestic creature. But humans aren't butterflies and thirty days weren't enough. In thirty days, you're world can turn upside down. You can learn a new way to breathe. You can grow into something you've never imagined to be. You can laugh like you never did before.

I opened my eyes to find myself an inch away from the floor. "Am I flying?" "You’re not," said a husky British voice near my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. Freaking hormones. I fake-coughed and composed myself, standing properly and slipping out of his grip. "Thank you," I said with a small smile, trying to hide the pain. He nodded coolly and resumed mopping. Wait… wasn’t he supposed to be on the other side? "Are you Flash or something? How did you get here so fast?" I asked, and he chuckled.