Monsters Like Us (Book 1 in The Huntress Series)

Chapter Eleven (Part One)

That night, Esperanza had another nightmare. She was spread out on one of the steel dissection tables, her wrists and ankles bound and locked in place. She fought to release her restraints, but no matter how hard she tried, nothing worked. She was trapped.

The wall in front of her was stocked with sharp instruments, glinting in the harsh florescent light. "Are you comfortable?" Lavinia asked, stroking Esperanza's hair. She threw her head back and laughed. "I promise to be gentle."

She seemed to glide across the room, admiring her tools. She wore a white lab coat and latex gloves. Esperanza realized that she couldn't speak or move her lips. Her tongue laid limp in her mouth. It didn't even feel as if it belonged to her anymore, as if someone had replaced it with a dead slug. "You're being exceptionally quiet," Lavinia noticed. "Is somebody nervous?"

She wiggled her fingers, trying to decide on a tool. "Well, I suppose I would be nervous if I were you." Her long fingers grazed the bone saw. Lavinia's eyes burned bright with desire, and she shivered. "This one is my favorite," she whispered. "But I think we should start with something else first. Like the classic, ever handy scalpel."

Esperanza watched as her fingers wrapped around the scalpel and she held it up to the light, admiring its beauty. "Oh, would you look at that?" she gasped, wiping away a smudge of blood. "I forgot to clean it properly." After polishing the surface, she inspected the scalpel once more. "There. Much better."

Esperanza squirmed desperately. She eyed the exit. Lavinia turned to her, grinning. "Oh, you're not going anywhere. I have to conduct an exploratory surgery first, figure out what makes you tick. But unfortunately, we're fresh out of anesthesia, so I'm afraid you'll just have to suffer through the pain."

Esperanza squirmed again. She squeezed her eyes shut as Lavinia touched her cool latex fingers to her belly. The scalpel dug into Esperanza's skin, sharp and icy cold. She wanted to scream and thrash, jump up from the table and wrap her hands around Lavinia's throat. But she couldn't.

She couldn't do anything as Lavinia made the first incision across her lower abdomen from hip to hip. A deep slice that burned as blood bubbled up and flowed out onto the table. Lavinia paused, listening. "Do you hear that?"

Esperanza breathed evenly through the pain. She did hear something. It was wet, like somebody stirring soup. What is that? she wanted to ask. What is that noise?

Lavinia grinned even wider. "Oh, look. You have a worm." She pointed at Esperanza's chest, where the outline of a fat worm wriggled beneath her skin. Her eyes widened. Get it out, Esperanza wanted to shout. Get it out of me!

It wormed its way up to her neck, wriggling into her cheek, before embedding itself into her brain. She could feel it chewing holes into her individual lobes, nestling inside where it would eventually lay eggs. "There's only one way to get rid of a parasite," Lavinia informed her, replacing the bloody scalpel and selecting the bone saw. Suddenly, she appeared behind Esperanza, the bone saw held high above her head. "You have to cut it out!"

"No!" Esperanza shouted, jolting up in bed. She panted, her nightgown slick with sweat. Her hands ran over her belly, hovered above her brow, checking to make sure that everything was still in place. When she was sure it was, she relaxed. She couldn't lay in bed any longer, couldn't risk falling asleep again, especially if there was any chance of continuing that nightmare. Climbing out of bed, she went to the bathroom and splashed cold water in her face. Later, as she sat at the vanity, there was a rap at the door. "You can come in."

Bridger stepped inside, clutching a bouquet of white lilies. "I'm so ashamed," he said in almost a whisper. It was the first time she had agreed to speak to him since their incident the other day. He kept his eyes low, focused on the floor. "I'll understand if you want to call off the wedding. It would devastate me." When he said the word devastate, his eyebrows twitched. He clutched the bouquet tighter, the stems bending in his grip. "But I wouldn't blame you for it."