5. Aliana
ALIANA
What is life, if not a giant bag of horse shit wrapped in dynamite with a lit match dangling a mere inch away?
I don’t know how long we remain trapped in the prison of gnarled tree branches, but it’s days too long for my liking.
I’ve come to realize one vital revelation about human nature as hunger gnaws at me and digs its sharp claws into my ribs—if we lose our humanity in our quest to survive, then what’s the fucking point?
What’s the goddamn point?
My belly gurgles incessantly, demanding I replenish it, but I stubbornly refuse, knowing exactly what the meat they offer me truly is.
Tears prick the backs of my eyes, but I don’t let them fall as the sun dips below the horizon, reappears the next morning, and descends yet again the following night.
I can’t even look at Chase who sits beside me on the compacted dirt, his knee close enough to touch mine. He hasn’t eaten the proffered food either, and his growling stomach is almost deafening amidst the sobs and cries of the other humans.
I don’t speak to him. Not a single word passes my lips as Eon’s dying croak reverberates through my head like a ball constructed entirely out of razor blades. As it bounces around, it slashes everything in the immediate vicinity to intricate ribbons.
Oh, Chase tries to talk to me, that’s for damn sure, but when I pointedly ignore him, he gives up with a forlorn expression marring his pretty-boy face.
It’s only on the fourth night that we’re moved—loaded up like goddamn cattle into the back of huge military trucks.
At least, I think they’re military trucks, though I’ve never seen one in person before, only read about them in books.
Benches line either side of the truck bed, and a heavy tarp is arched overtop us, thick enough to keep out the moonlight above.
The humans all around me sob and beg, but I tune out their pleading as I struggle to orient myself with my surroundings.
Unfortunately, it proves difficult to do.
I’m painfully weak from both dehydration and starvation—not to mention I barely slept a wink the entire time I was imprisoned, despite Chase’s promise he’d keep watch over me—and the tarp over the back of the truck bed makes seeing impossible.
And what’s the point? It’s not as if I’d want to find my way back to that goddamn forest of pain and misery, where I witnessed the death of both Eon and Lucas.
My heart lurches painfully in my chest at the thought of my friends. I should’ve done more. Been stronger, faster, smarter.
If only I hadn’t missed…
If only I had fought harder…
Chase’s hand clamps down on mine, offering what he probably thinks is a reassuring squeeze, but I pull away as if his touch is toxic. As if I can feel the acid emanating from his palm and burning away my skin until I’m bleeding and raw.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, making sure to keep my voice low so as to not alert the night visions driving the truck. I sway precariously to the side as we hit a pothole in the road, the sudden movement jostling me.
“Aliana…”
“Don’t, Chase,” I bite out, my tone scathing and acerbic. “Don’t.”
My skin prickles as Chase’s lips compress into a grim line before he reluctantly nods his head and turns to stare directly ahead. All I can hear is the scratching of tires against uneven ground and the sobs and cries of the other humans.
How long have they been in that prison? Days? Weeks? Months?
They’re all painfully thin, sickly looking even, with jaundiced skin and sunken cheekbones. I want to feel sympathy for them…
But then I recall the way they dragged Lucas’s body away, and that pity withers up and dissipates in a cloud of dust.
It all comes back to this—what are you willing to give up in order to survive?
And if your answer to that question is your morality, then I feel sorry for you.
I would rather die with it intact than become the exact thing I’ve been trying to eradicate since I first understood the meaning of the word monster.
I curl my hand into a fist on my thigh, my nails biting into my fleshy palm. Anger drills through my lower belly.
Don’t get me wrong—I plan to fucking fight. I won’t be a goddamn sex slave to these beasts or whatever the fuck they expect from me. I’ll kick, scream, claw, and I’ll show these wicked monsters exactly what happens when they choose to mess with a human who doesn’t have a lot to live for.
But I won’t turn into a monster myself.
I fucking refuse.
If my choice is between death or becoming the exact thing I despise, then I suppose I’ll have to shove a dagger into my heart myself.
* * *
We’re frog-marched into a house that seems to be plucked straight out of one of those old gothic novels Gemma used to love to read so much.
I try to catalog everything I can—from the turrets piercing the pitch-black sky, to the neatly trimmed grass and the fountain splicing the driveway in two—but I’m only able to sweep my eyes around the area once before I’m shoved through a nondescript doorway and into a darkened hall.
“Hey!” Chase growls, moving to stand beside me in what I might’ve described as a protective move if it were anyone else but him. “Don’t touch her.”
The antennae on the night vision’s forehead wiggle erratically as he twists his head to sear Chase with a beady-eyed look. “M-mm-ove, human,” the beast hisses, giving Chase’s shoulder a painful shove.
Chase stumbles, his blond hair flopping forward to obscure one of his eyes from view, and growls something unintelligible.
Muted conversations reach my ears as I move down the dauntingly large hallway. I swivel my head back and forth, trying to find the source of the sound, but it becomes clear pretty quickly that it’s on the other side of the stark white walls.
When the night vision closest to us sidles a few steps forward to scream and hiss at a painfully frail human female who has stopped moving, Chase moves to stand beside me.
“We need to fight them,” he whispers out of the corner of his mouth, keeping his gaze fixated straight ahead.
I just barely hold in the snort that wants to escape.
My usual motto in life is fight and pray to fuck that you survive, but I’m also a realist—not to be confused with a pessimist. I don’t fight battles I know I won’t win unless I don’t have any other choice and I know death is imminent.
This fight?
It’s futile, and we both know it. We’re weak, exhausted, and ill-prepared to take on the fleet of night visions surrounding us, and none of the nearby humans will be of any help in their current states. Not to mention the most pressing matter at play—where the fuck will we go if we happen to win?
We seem to be smack dab in fucking monster land, and who knows what horrors we’ll face behind these ivory walls. Death, more than likely. Pain. Suffering. Torture. I don’t like the sound of any of that.
We need to be smart about this. There will be a time for us to make an escape, but now isn’t it.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I reply, my voice barely above a breathy murmur as I glance surreptitiously in both directions, ensuring the night visions are occupied. “There’s nowhere to go.”
“Anywhere is better than here,” Chase insists.
He gasps abruptly, his body arching and convulsing, and I whip my head around to stare at the night vision directly behind him, holding what appears to be a baton in his hand.
Electricity sparks along the rod, and the night vision doesn’t hesitate to whack it against Chase again until he falls to his knees.
“G-g-get up,” the monster hisses, kicking at Chase’s back and forcing him to hunch over.
Chase’s gaze remains glued to the floor, but even from this angle, I can see the intent in his eyes. His green orbs swirl with emotion as sporadic jolts radiate through his body.
They’re burning with anger. Brimming with malice. Percolating with vengeance.
Oh…fuck.
“Chase, don’t—” I manage to get out, just as he jumps to his feet and spins to face the night vision.
With a growl that doesn’t sound completely human, his hand snakes out. He captures the monster’s wrist, stopping the night vision before it can swing the baton at him a second time.
“Run!” he bellows as he grapples with the monster. “Get the fuck out of here!”
“You goddamn idiot!” I shout as two night visions fly past me, their wings brushing against the walls on either side of us.
They grab ahold of Chase’s arms, but he’s like a man possessed, shaking and screaming and fighting with every ounce of rage inside him.
The humans stare at one another in dismay, their eyes wide with fear, before they break into a run down the hall, practically tripping over one another in their haste to escape.
I watch in horror as a man shoves at a woman, forcing her to the ground in a heap of skin and bones. Others start to trample her.
“Fucking hell! Stop it!” I scream.
The fastest human finally reaches the door at the end of the hall, his fingers closing around the knob. He jiggles it erratically, but the door remains shut. My heart crawls up my throat, becoming lodged there, as a dozen night visions twist their tiny heads to focus on the humans.
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” the man whimpers. The door remains locked, despite his repeated attempts to open it.
Two more men push their way to the front of the crowd and begin to ram their bone-thin bodies against the door.
The wood doesn’t even creak.
I know I should look away, but it’s like witnessing a collision. You want to scream at everyone to stop, to press the pause button on life, but all you can do is watch as it unfolds before your very eyes.
A hurricane of emotions erupts inside of me as I volley my gaze between Chase’s kneeling form on the ground, two night visions pressing down on either one of his shoulders, and the other humans. Finally, I direct my attention towards the night visions slowly advancing forward.
“Leave them alone!” Chase bellows, and I can see the flames of anger in his eyes. If he’s not careful, that animosity is going to burn him alive.
“Chase,” I warn briskly, already knowing exactly what is about to happen as I remain rooted to the spot.
Chase glances at me, and his blond brows dip downwards, lines bracketing his eyes. His mouth opens and then snaps shut abruptly as horror splays across his face.
But all we can do is watch.
The night visions don’t kill the humans. Oh no. That would be idiotic, even for creatures with pea-sized brains. After all, they spent all that time and effort capturing and containing us, before transporting us to this house of horrors. Why would they kill them? What would be the point in that?
Instead, they beat the humans who ran until blood splatters across the once pristine white walls and teeth litter the floor. Until bruises mutilate the humans’ faces and there are more limbs broken than not.
Insurmountable rage bubbles up inside of me, coating my tongue in caustic poison. I have to physically bite down on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood to keep myself from screaming.
Chase’s expression crumbles where he still rests on the ground, horror swimming in his green eyes and darkening his irises. Lines furrow across his forehead as he watches the consequences of his actions unfold.
“You goddamn idiot,” I whisper, low enough only he can hear.
“I was just trying to…” He swallows heavily, his words tapering off. “I wasn’t thinking…”
“And that’s exactly what will get us all killed.” Something cold skates down my spine, and I have to fight off the full-body shiver that threatens to wrack me.
Maybe that’s another aspect of human nature I never considered before—every action has a reaction, a consequence, and ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s not a good one. Especially in a world ruled by vicious monsters.
To survive, you need to be smart.
But to live…
I swallow around the golf ball-sized lump in my throat.
To live, you need to be free.
And I will be free, even if I have to bide my time.
Even if I have to give in to the monsters in order to escape them.