With the remainder of humanity in chains, Shasta keeps her head down and tries to weather the storm. Servicing the filthy needs of a superior alien race, each day passes in a blur, the struggle to survive outweighing everything else.
After ten years...
When I woke up in the morning and he hadn't returned, I wasn't worried. By the time I started to feel tired again, signaling the end of another day, fear creeped in. I tossed and turned all night long. My hunger and thirst mixed with fear that he's angry with me won't allow me to rest.
I'm sure it's morning again and he still hasn't returned.
I've tried turning on the water in the bathroom but I can't figure it out. I've pressed every button but nothing happens.
I'm starting to panic.
I didn't survive everything I've lived through to starve in his bedroom. Is he punishing me?
Pushing the panel near the door, I start pressing buttons. I've watched him open the door, it doesn't seem as complicated as the water. I should be able to figure this out.
With each wrong button, I feel my heart rate spike. Not getting out of here is not an option. I have to find help from someone.
Trying another button, the door slides open. My chest heaves a sigh of relief but fear grips my spine. Am I really planning to go out there? Telling myself that it's the only option, I push forward.
Peeking my head outside, I find the sloping hallway empty. Slowly I step out. When I'm not immediately incinerated or tackled into the ground, I take a few more steps. I feel like a skittish mouse. I don't know where to go or who to turn to but I have to try.
"Hello?" I call out quietly, my voice squeaking. "I need-"
"You!"
Ducking down and covering my head, I prepare to be injured. The rage in the voice is so frightening that I don't turn around to see who it is.
A tight grip on my arm yanks me down the ramp.
"I'm sorry," I sputter trying to explain myself. "I've been-"
"Silence!" He shouts something that doesn't translate, something that scares me. Snapping my mouth shut, I run to keep up with his hurried steps.
He pulls me into a room. I feel like life drains from my body, dropping from my head down to my feet. The room is suddenly much colder.
"Wait! Please!" I hear myself screaming but I can't stop. Glass cells line both sides of the room, each with a Monturain inside. Is he putting me in jail?
Without even a moment of pause, he pushes me into a cell. The Monturians mouth twists into a smile that freezes my blood.
"Hello human," his voice drips with excitement. He may not be at the top of the food chain anymore but he's still above me and he knows it.
His long black tongue pokes through his lips and my stomach rolls. The pleasure they get from inflicting pain is the most frightening thing about them. Nothing is out of bounds, no physical or mental torture is too much. If they want to do it, they do, no matter how awful or depraved.
Whoops and hollers of excitement from the other cells fill the air. They are all going to enjoy this even if they aren't the ones inflicting the pain. The opportunity to watch is enough for them.
He lunges forward, grabbing my body like a rag doll.
"I recognize you," he grips both of my arms, bringing my face up to his. He sniffs my skin, then licks my cheek.
Closing my eyes, I picture the desert. My mind automatically shuts down. After years, I've grown used to it, it's second nature. Block it out - pretend it's not happening. I can be somewhere else in my mind. I don't have to feel any of it.
He speaks but I can't hear him. It's nothing but a muffled sound in the background.
With my eyes shut tight, I feel myself being yanked and pulled, then warmth. But it's not the desert sun, it's something else. Something hard and warm, something holding me.
"Why did you leave my quarters, Shasta of Earth?" I feel myself being shaken.
Destroyer?
Opening my eyes, I'm met with his angry gaze. It takes a moment to register that I'm soaked. Something sticky and wet drips all over me. It's all over him too.
Monturian blood.
He sets me down on my feet and turns to the crumpled body of the man that had previously been holding me. I don't mean to gasp but I can't hold it back. He's split in half from the top of his head down into his chest.
With no regard for the body, Destroyer yanks his blade free before cleaning it. The crystal glints in the light.
He sheaths it and turns to me, his rage palpable. He doesn't speak, just steps around me. With quick silent steps, I follow behind him, running like a dog after its owner.
A trail of blood drips from both of us, leaving gooey black drops on the ground.
When we reach his room the door opens and he moves to let me enter first. It's not a gentlemanly gesture, he's furious. I can feel it coming off him in waves.
"Why?" He turns, pinning me to the wall.
"You left me here for so long with no food or water! I was just trying to find help!" I'm not sure why but tears burn in my eyes. I wasn't expecting to feel so emotional. It must be low blood sugar.
"We ate together before I left." He looks confused.
"Right, but I have to eat and drink more often than that. To live I need water every day." I watch as his face changes, some of the anger seeming to fade.
"Every day?"
"Multiple times a day."
Turning, he taps the panel and presses several buttons. "Do you require animal food again?"
"Um, yes, please." The thought of eating meat again does not appeal to me at all.
"Clean yourself." He touches the panel, opening the bathroom door and starting the water. This time, as soon as I enter the room, he closes the door.
I gulp down some water and clean myself as fast as I can.
"Cover yourself with this." He holds out one of his shirts. It's a soft, stretchy uniform that stretches tight on his chest but drowns me in the fabric.
I notice that he has his eyes on the ground.
A tray of fruit sits on the table and my mouth starts to water. I dig in immediately, not taking any time for manners or formalities.
"We do not eat or drink daily. I did not intend to starve you." His voice is stern. "You may not leave my quarters alone. It is strictly forbidden. Anyone wandering here is seen as an enemy."
"I won't go out again."
"Good."
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