Chapter Forty
Turmoil surges in my stomach as a dark figure passes through me.
A picture of sheer shock is painted on my face as I look down to see my once solid hands transparent.
I am looking at my feet through my fingertips; my feet are settled on a white marble floor.
What is this place? My stomach swirls again as another figure penetrates through me, twisting my stomach momentarily, making me wince.
I jump back against the wall behind me; the strong smell of disinfectant ignites my senses as my eyes take in my surroundings.
The walls are white to match the floor, and several bright white lights conquer any darkness that might try to take over the room.
It has a sterile feel to it, clinical, like a hospital.
Figures wander in and out of the room with long white coats drowning their frames; they walk with purpose, some holding notepads, taking notes as they walk.
I startle at the loud mechanical whir of a door clanking open and snap my head in its direction.
The metal doors give way to more figures marching through like soldiers, this time wearing yellow hazmat suits and armed with knives and other weapons.
They march in synchrony, their steps thumping in rhythm like the beat of a drum.
My feet urge me to investigate, but my head hesitates, the theoretical hole in my stomach assures me that the figures cannot see me, and I am ninety percent sure I am just dreaming, so I swallow down the fear and confront them closer.
I count around fifty hazmats striding side by side through the iron doors, the breeze from the outside air breathes into the room as they file through, and I can see the landscape behind them, like a postcard.
A backdrop of a snowy mountain, the same snowy mountain I saw that day on Craize’s back.
Which means I am in the very place I told Ryder about, the place I saw Maddox Webb boxed up and delivered to.
A lump in my throat fights the back of my tongue as a trembling fear takes over me.
I take an overwhelming step out without thinking, ten more figures infiltrate my innards as they violate me.
I curl over, cringing at the uncomfortable feeling, and stick myself to the wall.
My eyes follow them as they invade the hall and cram into an elevator, the elevator is too small to hold them all, so some wait outside as the doors clang shut.
The beating of the drum quietens as their boots still in the metal cage. They are going down to sub level six.
The elevator drops them off and begins its journey back up.
I need to think fast. My feet take me as quickly as they can to the end of the corridor.
I congregate with them, a ghost in the midst of warm bodies, my translucent frame intertwines with theirs, the occasional arm or hip eats through my waist, making me want to throw up, but I swallow my unease and enter the elevator with them.
The doors shut harshly, and the descent is fast. The hazmats do not speak; they fidget restlessly and grip tighter onto their weapons.
I feel their unease; whatever requires this amount of weaponry must be dangerous.
The steel doors slide open, and ironclad men file out two by two like ants leaving their nest. Footsteps echo down a dark hall that lights up when it senses movement, each one lighting up one after the other like dominoes.
Their footsteps are different this time, rushed, drumming to a faster tempo.
I pick up the pace and follow them, an abstract in their tangible army.
Their movements are simultaneous, halting all at once and then veering past a sharp corner once given a signal.
I mimic their movements, delayed slightly behind like an echo.
Around the corner is another long corridor with ten doors plastered opposite each other on either side of the walls.
The army waits for the signal before filing through the third door, their knives entering before them; some stand guard outside.
The sound of rabid screaming and distorted voices stuns me to stop in my tracks, and a cold shiver pinches at my spine, three hazmats fly with force out of the door and smash into the hard wall beside me, thumping onto the floor unconscious and unmoving.
Nightmarish screams and growls claw at the walls in the room, and two more fly out, the fast momentum of their large bodies being flung across the hall like rag dolls, makes me wonder what kind of creature possesses such strength.
My feet tiptoe towards the sounds, not knowing if they want to disturb the unknown.
I take a step forward and freeze again as the door behind me begins to bang violently.
I shake as each bang quake through me, causing my heart to pound hard and fast against my rib cage.
A cascade of bangs and screams and snarls claw at each door as the commotion has awakened whatever lay dormant inside each room.
My feet betray me and wade past my fear, over the bodies sprawled on the floor, and into the room.
My breathing becomes heavier as I walk through the doorway; my words are stifled with unease, and my heart is beating so fast it feels like a cold hand ripped straight through my chest to play with it.
I tilt my head, trying to comprehend the creature in front of me.
A humanoid figure skulks across the room, its elongated, spindly limbs move with a jerky and unnatural grace, bending at joints that shouldn’t exist. It moves with unsettling speed, blurring as it darts from place to place like a puppet controlled by a frantic, unseen hand capable of movements that defy both physics and anatomy.
A mockery of humanity, a bundle of flesh and bones with skin that lacks a natural, healthy pink glow, instead, it is mottled with prominent red veins spidering up the length of its gangly features.
It looks through me, the whites of its eyes a sullen black, wide and unblinking, glowing with a predatory hunger.
It smiles, revealing rows of needle-sharp teeth that seem too large for its mouth as it moves again in a blur of distorted limbs and snapping joints.
One moment it is lurking in the shadows, and the next it is upon a hazmat, limbs flailing with impossible force, its mouth opens wide and tears into the flesh and bone with ease, the blood-curdling screams are back.
I shake in my spot, watching hopelessly as the being rips through the army.
A few hazmats outside the door retreat and slam the door shut behind them.
The creature slows and treads distortedly around the perimeter of the room, banging at the walls and door again.
It stops and sniffs the air, as if it has sensed prey nearby.
I hold my breath, imprisoned with this beast. Its head snaps in my direction, and its jaws widen again, remnants of flesh and hazmat clinging to its sharp teeth.
I feel vulnerable as its eyes stare into mine, void of human life.
It charges with speed towards me, and I stand, feet glued to the floor in fear.
My heart thumps heavily in my throat, and the beast continues hurling its way at me.
The sound of hissing fills the room and quickly renders the creature unconscious as a green gas disperses into the room.
It lay curled on the floor, a weapon dismantled.
I let out a shaky exhale, thankful for the cloud of green gas that fills the room.
Air vents appear from inside the walls and suck out what’s left of the pungent gas.
I rub my eyes to understand the sight before me, the sunken-eyed and red-veined animal that had just tried to hunt me, a predator I had no knowledge of before.
I gasp as its skin ripples and the sound of its limbs crunch and shorten dramatically.
In the blink of an eye, the creature has transformed, its teeth now blunt and square.
A frail body lies on the floor in the foetal position. I wipe my eyes in shock… it’s human?
A moment passes, and the clicking of a latch enables the door to swing open. Miss Worthington and the mystery man from the dining hall that night at Sun Sovereign stand with a smaller army of people behind them. The taps of her heels stop at the unconscious body in front of me.
“Number fifty-six failed the transition.”
She crouches beside him and inspects further by using the end of a pen to prod at his face, then writes something down on her notepad.
She fumbles in her pocket and pulls out a smooth, transparent pebble, which she holds close to the creature’s skin.
It glows blue briefly before ebbing out, which makes her look frustrated.
“The dosage is wrong, try again,” she orders and shares a look with the man in the long black coat.
“The creature is impressive, but too unpredictable.”
His lips loosen into a smirk. “At least these aren’t dying like the others. We are getting closer.”
Miss Worthington nods her head and signals to the army, who rush to the side of the body and drag him out of the room. I see him as they take him, a far cry from the distorted beast I saw minutes earlier. The face of a boy I have only seen in a two-dimensional image…a missing Moon.