The Elite

Thirty-Eight

It was only after Aza was gone did I take in my scenery. Instantly, I spotted the dark coffins hiding in the gloom, a meager, far-off light source illuminating the names on the coffins: Black Queen and Nefarious.

Joy and hope blossomed in my body, making me feel almost giddy. Aza must not have thought that hard about a destination, leaving my mind to fill in the gaps. I wished to be in the Catacombs so I could bring my parents back to life. So, Aza's power seized onto my direction, having none from Aza, and followed it.

Without giving it another thought, I jumped up and ran over to them. Grinning, I heaved the heavy lid off my mother's coffin, needing to see her and needing to save her.

Looking down at the barely preserved body lying in the box, I identified it easily as my mother's despite the decay. Her mocha skin was pale and white and long dead, and her lush black hair was no longer lush, or black, but merely a decaying pile. She looked gross, unlike the beautiful woman I had known in life. Like this, she looked like she belonged in this dark catacomb, and I hated that. But I still recognized her, for Talbots didn't decay quite as easily as humans.

Tears prickled at my eyes as I stared at her, feeling a sense of loss overcome me. I'd never seen my parents bodies before, having been told to hide before the Elite came. They were killed and carted off before I left my hiding spot. I must have sat there for hours upon hours after they'd died. My sadness was so overcoming, I couldn't force myself to do anything but sit there and wallow in my grief. Master Jobi found me there, though, long after my parents were gone. He offered me only a slice of comfort, but I was so distraught I took anything. I let him take ahold of my life, guiding me on my path, because I had no energy to do it myself after my crippling loss.

It wasn't until I joined Lagos-16 that I really began to feel whole again. I took a hold of my life, and it lead me exactly where I wanted to go — to saving my parents. And I was finally there.

I touched my hand to my mother's decaying face, feeling angry at how disgusting it was as skin flakes disintegrated beneath my fingers. She didn't deserve to be like that. My mother should have been stunningly beautiful, as I'd known her my whole life, not quite gross. She was supposed to be wonderfully comforting, not revolting.

Though I had no idea if it would work, I urged my healing power to go faster as it brought her back to life. I couldn't stand her being like this.

Then suddenly, two things happened at the same time: my mother took a breath, her eyes still closed, and an explosion ripped through the air, sending me flying backwards into a pile of newly-made rubble.

It hurt terribly badly. My head was pounding and my whole body ached from injuries my body was trying to heal. I reached up to feel sticky blood on my head, but I could feel it healing fast, so I wasn't all that concerned about that. I was more concerned about the fact that someone had figured out I'd just somehow invaded the Offender section of the Catacombs, and they would not be happy.

Through the haze of dust I caught sight of an unfamiliar masculine figure, just as he was attacked by my mom, her khopesh swinging at his head and bouncing off.

"Mom."

I scrambled to my feet and raced to go help her.

Well, I tried.

I only got a couple of feet before another explosion rattled the catacombs, sending me toppling into an open box, dead corpse and all.

Instantly, I realized that this must be my father's dead body, being the only other one in close proximity I had observed. However, although I had always enjoyed his warm embrace, I did not enjoy the flaky, gross embrace of his decaying corpse. So I got off of him, crouching next to him in the stone coffin as I resurrected him, figuring my mother could handle herself. She was awesome.

Two seconds later, before my father was fully resurrected, a face appeared out of the dust, the body it belonged to standing right next to the stone coffin. My heart skipped a beat — not because of fear of my own death — but of the fear I wouldn't finish resurrecting my father.

The guy grabbed me around the waist, pulling me out of the coffin. I struggled to hold onto my father, grabbing his mostly formed hand. I wasn't going to let go until he was definitely alive.

As my father's hand started slip in mine due the man tugging at me, I did the next best thing. Like a little kid, I screamed for my mother. Unfortunately, I only got out a "m" sound before the man clamped a hand over my mouth.

That gave me enough time to watch my father breathe his first breath in five years. I let go of him, causing the man that was holding me to topple over backwards, no longer having a resisting force. I fell on top of him, but I planned it.

There was something poking me in the side, stuck in the pocket of the man's lab coat. Quickly, I grabbed onto it, pulled it from his pocket, and slammed it into the man's head, ignoring the part of me that was terrified I'd get too violent and kill him. I had to fight, or I was going to die.

In the millisecond I pulled it off it his head to whack him again, he shoved his hands against me, and an explosion detonated on my chest, sending me flying backwards. I managed not to die, but I felt really faint as my healing worked overtime to save me.

As I started coming back to full consciousness, my body being restored to normal, I realized what I was holding. It was a curved bone, and it was green. Though it could have been painted or dyed, something about it seemed too natural, and unlike anything I'd ever seen before. It seemed authentic.

Curiosity piquing me, I decided to resurrect whatever it was that this bone belonged to. It took longer than I expected, likely because all of it wasn't in front of me, but it started to shape in front of me. Distantly, I knew I should be trying to help my parents, but whatever this was seemed strangely important.

It was humanoid, but everything about it seemed much more graceful and elegant — and green. Nearly everything about this creature was green. Even it's strange skin — a smooth scale-like surface, without the separation of individual scales, and yet pliable beneath the press of my fingers — was a hue of green.

Even though it was strange, I didn't stop until it was fully formed. There was something important about this, and I needed to understand.

Taking it its shape, I saw it had long, curved limbs, and a sharply defined face. And, obviously, it was green. As it took in a its first noiseless, elegant breath in many years, I let out a very undignified and childlike scream, for the thing before me was definitely an alien.

Like Aubrey alien. Except, unlike her, it looked like a alien, freaking me out.

I crawled backwards away from it, still screaming at the top of my lungs. My palm ran into a sharp rock, cutting the skin open, and spilling blood. Without giving much thought to my plan, I grabbed that rock and sprung forward, hoping to use it to impale the alien, and return it to the dead.

Whether or not I felt bad about killing, I wasn't sure. I didn't know if I was being possessed again, or if my brain didn't think the alien was worth grieving over killing it, or if I thought it was okay since the alien was supposed to be dead anyway and the only reason it wasn't was because of me, or if I was just too terrified to think straight after being confronted with a resurrected alien, but I just wanted it gone and dead rather than in front of me.

Just before I reached it, the world went gold. This time, it was so fast, I barely even had time to react before the colors returned, and I pushed that rock into someone's chest.