|-MABEL O'CONNOR-|
No Entry.
|-ROSALINE EUBANKS-|
Waking up to a dark ink sky one expects to see stars. Where, in the swirls and pools of clouded eternity were the patches of dying structures far older than that of time itself, slowly fading into obscurity? The air was cold and bitter and it tasted foul. Rose scrunched her nose. The air made her lungs hurt and she wanted to throw up. The air was too foul here.
You need to breathe better air.
She couldn't see a thing and yet she knew that she was in a graveyard of sorts. There must have been at least two, maybe more, dead bodies on the floor next to her. She patted the wall above her head until she felt safe enough to stand. It hurt when the key clanked against the sharp stones, and she was careful to keep it from making too much noise lest her captor knew she was awake.
Once up, she brushed one leg against the ground in front of her, making sure it was clear to walk, and then moved forward. Even in darkness, she had ways to see. It was easy. As a child, she played in the dark all the time.
In the army, they taught her how to move at night.
Step. Sweep. Step. Sweep. Hand against the wall. The wall ended, and she turned with it. She kept her ears alert and made certain to clear her mind. Focused. She needed to be alert. The monsters–aliens–demons–whatever the hell they were, whatever she was, wanted everyone in their little Arizonian town dead. She couldn't let them out of the caves. She had to destroy the exit, to keep them locked down there for good. Perhaps too then she could free herself from this beast of destiny.
What would she be, if she lived a life of her own?
Who could she be?
There was time for idle contemplation another day.
Just as she'd started to grow used to the darkness, she crossed another wall of rocks and the familiar warm crimson glow engulfed her. It was bright and she squinted at first. She welcomed it and began to walk a little faster, feeling more confident that she could get back to the stairs until she noticed a pair of white glowing eyes with a soulless black iris that seemed to come from a dark patch of rock. The closer she got to it, the more unsettled she became. That is until she got too close, and the eyes stood up. And the rocks stood up. Until it rose and was almost as tall as she. It stood at roughly five feet tall, with the head of some type of canine, a long snout, a black body with some brown and white spots on it, and keratin spines that looked almost like hair sticking out from its back.
"Whoa," she said, her hands raised out by her sides in a gesture of peace. She made certain to show she had no weapons on her.
Another three dogs stepped out from the shadows, all of the same size. She couldn't help but let out a string of curses that couldn't be repeated on family television.
The dog let out a rotten-sounding growl and what appeared to be blades for teeth clacked against each other.
"I don't have any food on me," she said. She tried to raise her voice some. In a magazine once, she heard that dogs seemed to like raised voices more than deeper ones. "You're a good boy or girl, right?"
The creature let out another growl and pawed at the ground. It seemed to regard her with suspicion. It started to move closer and she didn't move an inch. She knew if she ran, the dog would chase her. Based on the shape of the dog, it was some type of Greyhound, or perhaps a Whippet. Those dogs were made for running and biting. The jaw on the beast was impressive too. It could bite into her easily. She needed to be careful. The only thing close to a weapon she had on her was the key. She couldn't fight the beast. She needed to think.
