The Lux Establishments: Sectors of Truth

By Laura T. Espinal Corpeno

Amelia DeSantos, at the age of fifteen, was thrown into an unknown world filled with riches and luxuries. Currency unfeasible to her imagination was at a swipe of a card. With money comes a convoluted power over society, to manipulate or to advance. Amelia, even with riches, found herself drowning in a foggy mind. Distinct periods of her life were wiped from her memory, and only scrambled moments resurfaced unpredictably. With a mind selectively erased, her intelligence faltering at basic concepts, Amelia finds herself struck with the sudden disappearance of her parents and in need of answers. Where was she? Who were the Covered obeying her every command? Why was her once bright mind faltering and unwilling to comply with her? In search of her parents, Amelia uncovers the cynical truth of the Lux Establishments and her true purpose in their wicked intentions. In an attempt to find these answers, Amelia may fail miserably or succeed in knowing a truth she may not want to accept.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: May 16, 2022
• ISBN: 9781662472527

Book preview

The Lux Establishments

Sectors of Truth

Laura T. Espinal Corpeno

Copyright © 2022 Laura T. Espinal Corpeno

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2022

ISBN 978-1-6624-7251-0 (hc)

ISBN 978-1-6624-7252-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 1

Amelia looked into a thick darkness for what could have been seconds, minutes, hours, maybe even years. Time seemed to have lost its meaning. Pure, almost static, silence enveloped her like a heavy suffocating blanket. Her thought process had ceased to an inching crawl. Her mind couldn’t process what took place before her, or perhaps her mind refused to process the situation. Amelia could hear slight thuds in the distance, reminiscent of steps with a rhythmic echo through the void. The rhythmic thud of feet quickly morphed to panicked randomness. Was it the pitter-patter of anxious feet?

A jagged stream of wind pressed against her face, and her legs started to vibrate in seamless unison with the sound. Her mind suddenly began to form a crude realization.

Am I running?

The sound of her voice vaporized the darkness and gave way to a new path. Panic suddenly gripped her heaving chest as she raced down a cheerful pastel hallway. The delighted flowers and the animals depicted on the walls blurred as she zipped toward a black charred door. The lights above flickered as if they were urgently trying to convey a message.

I can’t run any faster! a distorted voice screamed frantically.

I’m not alone? she thought.

She tried turning toward the sound of the voice, but her head was fixed in place. We can hide! another voice yelped in despair.

Amelia barreled through the door that disintegrated into ash. She skidded to a stop in the center as the rest poured in. Amelia tried focusing on their faces. They morphed into different shapes while she scanned them for any form of identification. She could only distinguish specific items from the morphing bodies. A hot-pink top hat that was too absurd to miss, a deep-green watch with clicking gears, a crimson-tinted monocle, and lastly a plain wooden cane. She felt these items brand themselves into her brain.

We’re screwed, we’re definitely screwed, another voice trembled.

The room began to warp and sway hypnotically, similar to the way a mother would comfort her child. She let her body sway offbeat with the room. Her gaze glued onto the floor. Amelia could no longer find her feet, nor could she find the floor. In its place she found a thick opaque substance crawling up her legs like millions of creepy crawlers. She witnessed helpless as it pulsed and multiplied in size. The dreadful conclusion flourished into an unspoken reality. Amelia’s vision snapped to and fro from the room to Oblivion. Foreign steps drew closer; she couldn’t hear them… She could feel them. Random objects spontaneously appeared as her will to move was finally obeyed. She found herself stepping backward toward a broken high chair and carefully climbed onto it.

Step by step, breath by breath, beat by beat…

Her ears were slowly being submerged into a thick silence once again. The sound of her pounding heart diminished to a faint whisper, the rate of her breathing normalized, yet the tension in her chest remained. A cold feeling crept over her like a shadow. Amelia watched the liquid bubble vigorously as an analog clock surfaced. The numbers shifted between 2:01 to 11:21.

The slightest motion of her feet collapsed the high chair. Amelia’s stomach lurched forward. She was launched directly into the unknown.

Amelia’s eyes snapped open as she raced out of her bed and crumbled onto the velvety soft carpet. She was home? Her gaze lifted from the rug and observed her surroundings. Where exactly was home? She pressed her hands against the soft carpet. When did she buy this rug? The fabric trailed effortlessly between her fingers…seemed too expensive for her to purchase. Her eyes danced from section to section; her mind had divided the room into points of interest. Well, points of interest it severely lacked. Standard white desk on one side, dresser of the same shade of white on the other side. A lone shelf was oddly placed beside the doorframe; it housed only a few scattered encyclopedias and dictionaries with weird letters. Lastly was an arched window that overlooked a picture-perfect field. From the floor, she could barely see the tip of a skyscraper in the deep distance. Amelia’s eyes shifted to her bed. Her bed was massive with an abundance of white silk pillows, sheets on top of sheets. Not a single stuffed animal, which she found odd since she enjoyed them so much. She could vaguely remember a bear…

Remember…memory…

She tried to recall the basic routine she did on a…Monday? Tuesday?

Amelia’s eyes widened; she couldn’t remember the day, month, or even the year. She instinctively blinked a few times, then pinched her skin just enough to know she was awake. She moved her body around to make sure her motor skills were running orderly. Jumping jacks for stamina, although it had never been at its finest. She then tossed a weirdly shaped vase a few times to check her hand-eye coordination. She even tried doing simple math to check that her mind was running smoothly, yet she couldn’t think of any equations. Perhaps, she would have tried some riddles if she had a normal book at hand. Amelia sat back down on the carpet and began to think. Her brain started to buzz with a vague fuzzy feeling. Amelia furrowed her brows in concentration.

Think small, she thought.

Name: Amelia DeSantos.

Age: fifteen.

Parents: Andrés and Rebecca.

My most awarded fact: I am incredibly smart.

Amelia felt her muscles relax as she sunk into that thought. She wasn’t completely clueless. She could almost recall a faint gold glitter of trophies…almost. With a sigh of relief, Amelia sprang up to her feet and compiled a simple step-by-step plan.

Step one: go to the kitchen and inspect.

She stuck her head out. Her room was located at the end of a hall; going left was her only option. The hallway took her back for a moment; she was almost hesitant to put the rest of her body out. The marble flooring glistened proudly, so clean and polished, it reflected her bewildered expression. One side of the deep burgundy walls were decorated with gracious paintings of farms, landscapes, and lone towers. Every few feet were small pedestals that held seemingly expensive pieces of art. The other side sported a unique array of clocks. As she quickly walked down the hall, she noticed that each clock was set to different times, perhaps relating to time zones.

The simultaneous tick echoed unsettlingly. Her steps began to slow down when she reached the only window in the long hall. Sandwiched between two replicas of the Tower of London was a massive lone window, similar to the one in her room except more captivating.

The frame was meticulously crafted with zero visible imperfections. On each corner was a small bird, almost insignificant compared to the rest of the window frame’s grandeur. The two birds were caught midflight with their beaks sealed by a rope of gold. Around their heads were intricately designed musical rhythms overlapping each other. Amelia took a step closer and gazed upon the astonishing view. Unnaturally green rolling hills claimed to be her backyard, the more she studied it, the more she discovered that the hills were merely the canvas. A wide range of flowers truly painted a dreamlike image. Each flower was carefully placed to serve its purpose, to create an image that would be the first thing to sear into her blank memory. Happily colored flowers formed a crown, and the scattered trees were perfectly groomed into spongy circles. Bushes laced the cobblestone trail that ended abruptly at the base of the crown. Amelia lifted her gaze to the far distance. She could barely see the outline of another house. Although she felt the term house was a blunt understatement.

The echoing pitter-patter of footsteps snapped her from her daze. The faces of her parents surfaced.

¡Hija! Her mother’s cheerful voice traveled. It’s time to eat or you’ll be late!

Right, school… I am a kid, I should be attending school.

She quickened her pace down the hall and wiggled her limbs to shake off the awestruck feeling. Amelia followed the sound of her voice to an underwhelming wooden table situated in the corner of the dining room. The smell of freshly made food wafted into her nose by the cool wind. Her eyes drifted down the main table. The marble island was smothered in a wide variety of breakfast items. Eggs, pancakes, plantains, chorizo, and fancy meals that she didn’t know the name of. Amelia looked at her mother and observed her quietly; she knew it was best not to interrupt her. Amelia’s eyes narrowed like that of a camera lens.

She had always found her mother’s constant high-paced energy comforting. She kept going to and fro from the table to the counter like a yo-yo. She muttered under her breath fragmented verses from reguetón songs. Amelia watched as she stuffed generous amounts of food into containers. Details about her mother’s meticulous processes surfaced. Grains in one container with just enough space to seal it; fruits, meats, and dressings all separately packed. Amelia felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips as her mother’s warm gaze met hers.

Amelia! I didn’t see you there, she looked back to the containers. Take a seat. You don’t have much time till you leave.

Amelia complied rather quickly at the sight of food. As soon as she made contact with the chair, a shadow zipped past her. His sudden appearance made her jolt up from her chair.

Wait a sec— she said out of instinct.

The moment the words escaped her mouth, he froze instantaneously and stood in a fixed position. His hand hovered over the plates very steadily, reminiscent of a mannequin. Instead of speaking or asking any questions, Amelia simply tilted her head and stared at him. Her mother shot her a confused look.

You don’t want Dimitri to serve you?

She felt her brows furrow slightly; she stared blankly at her plate. D-don’t I usually do this? Amelia asked.

Her mother’s face went blank for a split second, then immediately flickered to the warm smile she recognized.

Nunca, Mama responded firmly.

Oh…okay then, Amelia said with an awkward smile to the older man.

She continued to look at her mother as Dimitri generously served her. Amelia formed a new step.

Step two: be wary of obvious questions. Ask carefully when needed.

Amelia pursed her lips, Mamá, what was the highlight of this past week?

Hm… Her mother paused for a second. I’d say when we analyzed different terrains. We had a very busy month, you know?

Amelia nodded as she fed herself a spoon full of gourmet eggs. Her taste buds continuously exploded with flavors.

And you? Her mother asked.

Me what? Amelia blinked into realization. Oh right, I’d say the same. Different terrains are fascinating.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Dimitri disappear through a small teal door and returned with many bags of luggage intertwined in his arms. He seemed completely unbothered by the heavy load.

It is time, he said in a clear manner, your shuttle leaves in twenty minutes.

Perfect. Her mother scurried over to Amelia and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. Nos vemos en dos días. If you need anything, you know, just ask a Covered to contact me.

Okay, Amelia smiled, her eyes focused on the small door. Safe travels.

Dimitri retreated back to the small door while her mother exited through an unexplored part of the house. Amelia scratched her head; she didn’t really know why she considered it unexplored. Her stomach growled; she should eat more before leaving. Her brain definitely needed it.

Exactly twenty-seven minutes had passed before a young woman appeared through the small door. She looked like she was in her late teens or early twenties, dressed in the same attire as Dimitri. White shirt, black pants, and plain black shoes. Her blond hair was tightly braided and out of the way. She sported no form of accessories; she seemed even more plain than Dimitri. In one hand, she held an ironed school uniform with a plastic cover over it. On the other hand, she held a relatively small backpack, with the letters SOA engraved in it.

Hello, Ms. Amelia. Pardon my intrusion, but it is time for you to go to school. The young woman spoke almost robotically.

Her eyes were fixed on the food yet she showed no hunger. Rather, her eyes were as blank as Dimitri’s, completely unreadable. Amelia pushed the empty plate away from her. An idea had surfaced, an idea that involved careful procedure.

Mind if I ask you a few confidential questions. This stays between you and I.

The woman nodded. Her expression remained as if it was etched in stone.

I woke up in a bit of a daze. I don’t really recall every detail today. The questions may be painfully obvious to you, but they are important for me. First, who are you? When did you come to work with us?

My name is Rose. My age is nineteen. I registered to work here three years ago, Rose stated.

Amelia nodded earnestly; her brain created a file for Rose.

Do you know how long I’ve lived here?

Time of occupation: fifteen years. They moved here four months prior to your birth.

And what do my parents do for a living?

Andrés and Rebecca are respectable and honorable scientists in their respective fields of research, Rose said as her eyes shifted to the clock.

Last question, Amelia responded. What type of school do I attend?

School of advancement. Simpler terms: high school, sophomore. Rose blinked very slowly. It is time for you to get ready, Ms. Amelia.

Amelia carefully grabbed the uniform and smiled. Thank you, and just Amelia would suffice.

Chapter 2

Amelia paced around her room for a solid two eternal minutes. She needed to regroup with the little information she had; she needed a step three. She found herself suddenly struggling to remain levelheaded. She would usually confide her worries with her mother, yet asking her during breakfast felt wrong. She was well aware of her partial amnesia, though she was very disoriented as to why she had partial amnesia to begin with. Details about herself were very clear in her mind; her likes and dislikes were known. She knew very minor details about her parents as well. Amelia could safely conclude that her personal identity was intact. The problem was that she couldn’t retrace exact moments in her past other than the present day. Amelia stopped pacing and started thinking smaller once again. What information seeking plan could she designate to step three? She decided she would refer to step two as Confidential questions, although the word confidential was often interpreted loosely. Amelia took a deep breath, her jumbled thoughts dispersed. She focused on a primary target: Natural behavior.