Chapter 18 #3
Upon entering, muffled noises can be heard in the air.
But there is hardly anyone in sight. All around, I notice white doors encircling us and agonizing screams escaping from the doors.
I swallow my spit and take a huge breath, trying not to imagine what horrendous things must be taking place beyond those doors.
I notice Pesh’s steps growing louder. Head down.
That’s all I have to do for the next minute.
He proceeds with the same stern voice upon entering a main room. “I need a student!”
I cannot see faces, but I hear gasps from the guards around us, and their legs turn toward us.
I look to the right and notice large sandals on a woman with claw-like feet.
She begins to speak in response to Pesh, but I notice she turns to stare at me for a moment.
I hold my breath. I don’t know why she is staring at me.
Perhaps because she cannot make eye contact with Pesh.
I choose to believe that is the case, to control my tenseness.
“Patron Pesh, what brings you here?” she says.
“Levon Lerogaski. Fair skin. Curly hair. 5’7. Green eyes.”
“You need her?”
“Uh-huh. So what are you waiting for?”
She shudders, stammering, “Sorry, um… let me just check where she is at the current moment.”
She clicks on her keyboard, and I peek to see one of her hands is covered in calluses, the other a bloody red bandage. She flips through scuffles of paper, her hands shivering as though uneasy and restless.
“Is there a problem?” Pesh asks.
“No, Patron Pesh. I’m just trying to find, um, her. We didn’t know you were interested in her before she was assigned. In fact, we didn’t even know you were interested in any of them!”
I don’t know what she’s alluding to. But it seems Pesh does. I wonder what type of assignment this woman is speaking of, but it causes my head to be tangled in terrifying thoughts.
“Find her, wherever she is. You have 60 seconds.”
“Yes. Patron. Pesh.”
My fists curl as sweat begins to form in my trembling fingers.
Something seems wrong. I can hear whispers.
I know I’m not supposed to look, but I can’t help it.
My eyes look to the right, and I notice scuffling at the end of the door.
Out the corner of my eye, I see a man who looks like he is in his early thirties or late twenties.
He has a scruffy beard, with blazing brown eyes, and his hands are dragging someone.
I swallow my spit and peek again to notice that his name badge says, “Gihard.” I can now hear growing whispers.
“I’ve been looking for you!” the Gihard man says.
“I believe she was just stationed into an experiment, Patron Pesh. We didn’t know you had interest,” the woman repeats.
Interest? What is this woman talking about?
“What experiment? Abort it immediately.”
Suddenly, I look to see hands being grasped.
I can almost see a tattoo on the hands, and it reads S x L.
Oh my God. Shantavia x Levon. That’s my sister!
I almost scream, but I hold my breath and tighten my clammy fists to stop myself.
Levon is being restrained by that man and taken away, so I instantly pinch Pesh, petrified.
He turns to the direction of my gaze. “Levon?” he asks.
I tighten my fist to symbolize a “yes.”
He looks at the direction of my feet and looks up to see Levon. “Levon! That’s her!”
He walks toward her instantly. I follow suit as we walk out through the glass doors and toward where she is. I wish I could look, but I can’t. My head must stay bent at all times so as not to attract any undue attention.
“Sir, may I help you?” the Gihard guy says.
“I need that student immediately!”
“This useless one? I can give you any other student of greater worth who can do better work for you, your highness!”
“Did I ask for your opinion?”
“No, sir.”
Pesh takes a strong step toward the man. I can hear the man gulp as Pesh speaks under his breath in a commanding voice, “Patron. Pesh.”
“Of course! I apologize! Yes. Patron. Pesh.”
“What are you waiting for? Get out,” Pesh says.
Reluctant for a moment, he begins to leave. I notice his feet hesitate upon departure as though in doubt. Levon steps forward beside Pesh.
“Don’t touch. Don’t talk,” Pesh whispers.
Stopping myself from holding her feels like fighting the ocean or holding back the weight of a hurricane, yet I do. For Levon, however, it’s much easier I assume. She says nothing, and we all walk out toward the elevators again, zooming down.
I shouldn’t look. I shouldn’t look.
I can’t help it. I sneak in a look.
Wisps of her golden hair stream down her face.
Her hands are full of blood, her uniform full of mud, her eyes full of scorn.
I’m staring at my sun, but all I see is darkness.
My heart shuts down immediately. I cannot even begin to fathom what she has experienced.
A flush of fear sprints inside my chest, and I look away instantly. I cannot bear to look anymore.
I now realize why Pesh told me not to look.