Chapter 2
Xiaoyu
I like the thought of solitude, but I’m in love with a peaceful mind amidst chaos.
The one who can remain gentle, serene, kind in difficult situations.
Not a mind on fire—that one always bites more than they can chew.
My strict regimen came from years under Mother’s watchful eye.
It has created an impenetrable wall in me that keeps me guarded and isolated from people.
It’s why I’ve had no boyfriend since college. The years after, I’d been stuck in a loveless engagement with a man Mother arranged for me. A Han heir. He’d been nice, never said a mean word to me, but I could see he’d been just as trapped as I was.
Two years of engagement had been an insane stretch, and we’d worn out both our family’s patience. It’d been a mutual break-up for us. Ever since then, Mother’s disdain for me worsened. And ever since then, I knew within myself I would always be alone.
I move the only potted plant in my house closer to a window and water it.
It’s a miniature jade plant, one of the most resilient species of succulents.
Ironic since I’m a botanist. I should have plants in my own space, but I can never subject them to living in this house Mother can tear down anytime.
I’m not sure when I will return, but hopefully it’s still alive when I come back.
The mirror I just passed has always been covered. I hate looking at myself in the mirror. It’s always a jump-scare. I hate how I need to keep my hair short and tied. If I don’t, I will leave a trail of them everywhere I go.
Locking the door, I quietly make my way to my driveway where the expensive car Mother got me is parked. On the other side is my little scooter.
“Professor Lin?”
I turn and see Ingar Lunden. He’s wearing dark hiking clothes with something strapped around his thigh. I can only guess what it is.
“I have to park my—”
“Moriarty will do that. Keys, please.”
I want to lash out. Tell him I can park my own car then remember we are on a time-crunch. I toss him the keys, and he nods at my satchel.
“What’s inside?”
“I only brought a couple of my notes, a pen—”
He immediately shakes his head. “Your notes will be fine but no plastics. You’ll be provided appropriate writing material on-site.”
I click my pen one last time and toss it to the nearest trash bin. I respect that. They are trying to preserve everything on the island. It’s only right they be extra careful.
I’m very quiet when we’re inside the car. Ingar looks intimidating, but he keeps clenching and unclenching his fists. Nervous. Knuckles deeply scarred and calloused. He doesn’t look like a director or a scientist—more of a security person.
“What’s the name of this island?” I try to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“You’ll know everything there is to know when we get there.”
The air smells sweet here. It's sending a thrill down my body.
“I’m not being kidnapped, right?” It just comes out. My tongue is loose, and I can’t hold back. “Because you don’t look like a nerd like me.”
He slowly turned to look at me, his eyes quizzical. “You signed papers, in case you forgot.”
I shrug, suddenly lethargic. I can’t understand myself.
My thoughts. I’m feeling…giddy, but tired.
“Yeah, but you could always forge my signature and stuff.” I giggle.
Giggle! “People like you are pro’ly above th’law.
” I am slurring my words, and—like my hands—I see my tongue escaping.
Jumping out of my mouth, and all I can do is stare in horror as it dances around, tears out a part of itself, then tips it at me like a fleshy top hat.
Shit. I’m drugged out of my mind.
His eyes shutter. Like he’s expecting something, he leans away and crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t fight it, Professor. Go to sleep.”
My eyelids are heavy, my vision all but swirling color. Utter darkness is a sight all on its own. A scary one, but I’m too blitzed to feel fear.
When I wake up, I’m ripping his eyes out.
I’m back with it again—the mouth. Today, it attempts to talk to me for the first time. It babbles adorably, its tongue slipping in and out—barely missing those sharp teeth. It’s a precarious and gallant thing to do.
Seated on the ground, I inch closer to it when it whistles at me.
In better light, I can see more of it. It’s not just a giant anthropomorphic mouth—it’s a gigantic dionaea the color of deep, deep fuschia.
Almost purple. Right behind its bulbous head are lines of bright pink and green foxgloves decorating it like a floral crown.
It notices me admiring and preens. It’s cute the way it lifts its massive leaves to show off like how a man would flex his biceps.
I laugh out loud. It’s so cute. “Do you have a name?” I ask, my voice muted in my own ears.
It shakes its head. No. It places those leaves in front of its stem together, shaking them. It looks like it's pleading with me to give it a name.
“Of course! Umm, are you a girl or a boy?” My heart squeezes as it cocks its head. It doesn’t know. Well, from a botanist’s view, dionaea muscipula—more known as Venus flytraps—are both male and female. A “perfect” plant, one might call it.
“It’s alright,” I reassure it. “How about I call you Venus?”
It seems to consider this before shaking its head.
“Dione?” Still a no. “You’re a picky plant.” I chuckle and touch its maw, stroking. It loves this and leans in. “You’re such a brother bear.”
It shifts, and it looks like it’s about to eat me, but I’m pretty sure it is its way of staring at me. Suddenly, it just begins to jerk its head up and down.
“You like that, huh? First name Brother, last name Bear. Brother Bear, it is.” I’m smiling from ear to ear. I can’t remember the last time I ever did. “That’s a male name, though. I can’t keep calling you it. So you’re a he/him to me.”
Brother Bear’s incredibly happy at this and shows off all his ornaments. The foxgloves start to glow the darker the sky gets. I’m worried now. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go…I don’t remember anything…
Yapping, he then shows me a tree branch with rows of fruit that look like cute little beans. The placement of the fruits is unnatural, too straight. It’s obvious he loves them given how he strokes his leaves over them.
There’s a wet, silky caress along my neck. Alert, I touch that spot, feeling nothing. The crickets stop singing completely. It leaves a weight in the air that presses into my chest. I feel like I’m being smothered. My belly starts growling, churning.
Noticing this, his head cocks from side to side. I’m not sure how he can see with no eyes. I try to look for something in the sea of green, and there’s a shadow in the corner. I tremble knowing that it’s not the first time I’ve seen it.
This is the shadow—the hole that visits me during my darkest, hungriest times. I know what it wants. It feeds on my fear, my sadness, the searing, rumbling pain in my gut. It leaves me trapped as it swallows my vision like veins of used oil. It’s never done this before.
Brother Bear makes an urgent sound and hisses at me. He opens his jaws wide, and for a second, I think he’s going to eat me alive. But no, he wants me to hide inside his mouth. He’s protecting me from the hole.
I trust him completely as I climb inside. It’s warm and moist, but I say nothing. He shoves his fruits in with me, and I hug them. As he gently but urgently closes his trap, I can see from the gaps of his sharp teeth the shadow has stopped just where I’d been sitting.
It’s a large, imposing void that slithers in the air like a thousand snakes. I can feel Brother Bear shake. He’s terrified of this figure. A surge of protectiveness consumes me. I know it’s going to eat us.
“Lin.” It’s a disembodied voice.
A strong stench hits my nose, firing up the sleepy neurons, my muscles reacting.
There’s a loud crashing sound somewhere.
My vision glitches like those old analog TV’s.
I blink hard until I feel my eyes hurting.
Something presses my chest harder, and then I’m rolling…
my body flipping over into nothingness until I slam on a cold metal space.
“Good, you’re awake.”
I don’t make a sound as I attempt to make sense of what I’m seeing. Everything’s blurry. I can only see shadows of…people.
“Here, your new glasses.” Something gets waved in front of me and I grab it.
I could never wear contacts, and I’m blind without my glasses. So when I peer around, I’m taken aback at how clear my sight is. I touch the glasses, noticing it isn’t mine.
“Like I said, we replace everything that’s safe for the island.”
“These aren’t even bifocals.” I note, seeing the difference of the weight and effectiveness.
Ingar ignores me as he sets down a number of duffel bags on a wide table. There’s something off with my center of gravity. Everything’s moving, shifting…then I realize the crashing sound comes from outside. Waves. We are in the middle of the sea.
I stand, taking in the very outdated scene around me.
All my life, it’d been marble, granite and technology.
My jaw drops at all the wood I’m seeing.
It’s…a pirate ship. From the barrels, to the muskets with golden rings.
I feel like I’ve just been dropped into a nautical adventure movie.
The only thing that brings me back to reality is the clothing.
The people—mostly women—are dressed in casual nondescript hiking clothes. Boots, pants, plain shirts.
A surge of panic goes through me as I look down at myself. Fuck! Somebody changed my clothes while I was out.
“This wasn’t in the contract. I didn’t sign up to be drugged and touched while I was unconscious.” I snarl at Ingar, getting in his face as much as my height permits. My reaction surprises me. I’ve never been so openly hostile to someone.
He doesn’t react. In fact, he looks tired. “We made sure you were all changed by a woman.”
I grit my teeth together, my unusual, protective response coming from a deep place in my heart. I can feel it racing in fear even after all this time. No matter how much Mother stifles everything with her conditional gifts, I still remember it.
“You will do no such thing again.” I grind out, reaching to clutch his shirt.
Ingar’s pause is pensive before he lifts his hands. “Understood. I apologize, Professor.”
Releasing him did not extinguish the fire in me. In fact, it only tripled my anger because I have no excuse to take a swing at someone. Leveling my breathing, I grind out, “Am I allowed to ask questions now?”
He inclined his head to the side, away from everyone. I’m confused about this. Why are there women here? From my earlier perusal, I just saw about two men, all wearing Moriarty symbols on their shirts. I follow him inside a room, and it looks like a cargo hold.
There are plenty of chains and more of those muskets that my hands turn cold.
“What in the ripe musk of hell did I get myself into?”
“Shoot everything that tries to eat you.”