Chapter 1 #3
Instead of finding love with a hunky alien and living a life of love and adventure on an exotic planet, Toni’s butt was stuck in a holding cell with four other women on a gangster planet called FiPan.
To make matters worse, their android jailers—called, of all things, sexbots—stopped working some time ago, leaving her and her friends to die either of starvation or thirst.
Or monotonous boredom.
Just when Toni feared all hope was lost, a clatter of alien footsteps echoed down the abandoned corridor.
She blinked against the light that clicked on in the hallway, spilling its dull glow into the dreary cell.
What came toward them made her eyes widen.
They were strange-looking creatures she could only describe as a nightmarish mix of dingoes and beavers on two feet.
That is, if a dog walked on its hind legs.
They scrambled to a stop at the entrance of the cell.
They were short suckers, only around four feet tall.
All of them had six arms—three on each side of their furry, matted torsos.
In the middle of their foreheads, above their snouts, were four black-beady eyes that gleamed with identical malevolence.
Each one fixated on her and her captive friends.
Her stomach tightened as one of them ran a scan around the cell with some kind of device it held in its clawed middle paw while others focused on the frozen red sexbot poised at the entrance to their cell.
Together, they dragged the android away while uttering growls and hisses.
Toni’s faint hope of freedom evaporated once the force field covering the entry dissipated when the sexbot was gone. She gritted her teeth in a vain attempt to steady her breathing. These creatures weren't rescuers. They had to be something far more dangerous.
Sudden pain from the thick slave collar around her neck shocked Toni.
She dropped to the floor like a stone, every nerve in her body blazing with agony.
With everything she had, she did her best to cry out, but before any sound escaped, one of the creatures slammed a putty-like gag ball over her mouth.
It expanded and covered her frozen lips.
Cold metal bands snapped onto her wrists with mechanical precision over her wrists, binding her hands in front of her. The icy metal bit into her skin, making her fingers numb.
The pain bled away, giving her a chance to breathe through her nose.
Her captor yanked her upright, and the sudden movement left her dizzy.
She stumbled forward, dragged along by the six-armed alien who gripped her with unnerving ease with his middle paw-hand.
The other women in the cell with her were similarly held captive.
Their expressions over their gags were a mixture of fear and defiance.
Toni’s heart wrenched when she caught sight of Morgan’s narrow-eyed determined stare at the alien manhandling her.
Izzy—gentle Izzy—whose brown eyes were now wide with tears.
She couldn’t see Althea or Lisa, who sounded like they were behind her.
The elevator ride from the cell block was suffocating, both from the stench of their captors and the oppressive silence they forced on them.
Toni's fingers flexed against the restraints as her mind raced for an escape plan.
But nothing jumped out how to get free. The only thing she could do was glare at the short alien holding her.
Not helpful, but it made her feel better.
When the doors of the elevator slid open, chaos greeted them.
The once-pristine facility was in shambles, its halls reduced to a battlefield of destruction.
Aliens of all shapes and sizes looted, fought, or reveled in chaos.
Toni's captor pushed her onward, ignoring the scene as though he couldn’t care less about the twisted spectacle going on around them.
Her breath hitched when they emerged outside.
The outside world was a blur of dull sunlight and rancid air, but it was the looming metallic structure ahead that scared the crap out of her.
The octagonal vessel radiated menace, its surface marred by years of wear and stained with substances she didn’t care to think about.
Toni stumbled, and her knees pounded onto the crumbling asphalt.
The rough ground scraped holes in her pants and scratched deep gouges in her skin.
Her muscles screamed in protest as the collar around her neck tightened and hoisted her off the ground like she was a puppet on invisible strings.
She thrashed, desperate for air. But her struggles only made the pressure worse.
Her captor’s grip didn’t falter as he propelled her toward the ship.
Once they reached the side of the battered vessel, a metallic slab slid out.
The collar around her neck tightened, making it hard to breathe.
Its hold lifted her into the air, and she hovered for a moment before it settled her onto the slab.
She shivered. The icy surface seeped through her clothes, a frigidity that burned the skin on her back.
Straps emerged automatically, binding her with ruthless efficiency.
Toni’s mind screamed in defiance, as if her mental struggles made a difference.
This couldn’t be the end! Not here, not like this.
Her only answer was the hiss of something piercing her neck. Her gasp of welcome air was the only good thing before darkness claimed her and put her out of her misery.
Azazel slid up the wall he’d leaned against, straining to stand as his thigh muscles screamed in protest with every movement.
It took a while, but once the spinning in his head slowed to a dull ache, he rested his hands on his thighs and raised his head to look around.
He couldn’t believe how weak he still was.
JR14 flittered in front of him like a ladybug in flight, his wings beating faster than the eye could follow.
The droid turned down the corridor toward the open doorway next to them.
With slow, sure steps, Azazel trailed him, watching the bot’s eight golden legs with their red trimmings dangle.
The room they entered was barely big enough to hold the coffin-like stasis pod.
Its clear casing was as grimy and crusty as the rest of the ship he’d seen so far.
A rancid smell hit him, making his eyes water.
The closest Azazel could describe the stench was a mix of something rotting and sharp, like sour meat soaked in cleaning chemicals.
It also carried an underlying bouquet of feces, vomit, and urine, all marinating in a vat of ammonia.
“Son of a lilit!” Azazel wiped the tears from his streaming eyes. “What is creating that odor?”
JR14 buzzed beside him, his small metallic head tilted. “Hold for determination.” The bot flew to the other side of the pod, then hovered. “Analysis complete. Organic classification: Ozevroc male, deceased. Cause of death: undetermined.”
Azazel strode in the direction where JR14 pointed one of his front claws.
“Olfactory analysis indicates advanced decomposition.” JR14 continued, his front claws clicking as he processed. “The odor is consistent with sulfuric compounds and putrefying proteins. Summary: the specimen is dead, thus creating what you organics would specify as a very smelly experience.”
Azazel’s mouth twitched into a small grin when the droid said “smelly”.
Glancing at the dead Ozevroc, he frowned.
Even though he was unfamiliar with this type of creature, it was clear it had died a painful death.
The Ozevroc’s six arms twisted at awkward angles, and its long, clawed fingers curled inward, as if clutching something unseen in its last moments.
The alien’s snout gaped open, exposing sharp yellowed teeth now bared in a silent scream of agony.
The creature’s matted, dull, navy-blue fur clung to its emaciated frame.
Two sets of glossy black eyes stared at the ceiling.
Azazel crouched closer. No obvious wounds marred the Ozevroc’s body.
No gashes or punctures to suggest how it had died.
And yet, every detail of the scene—the tension in its limbs, the unnatural arch of its back—spoke of unbearable suffering.
It was as if an invisible force had crushed the creature from the inside out.
Sheer, unrelenting pain had snuffed out its life.
“JR14,” Azazel said, his voice tight, “please analyze the cause of death.”
The tiny spider-like AI perched on his shoulder and his front claws clicked softly in response.
“Analyzation in progress: death likely caused by severe internal trauma or system failure. No external injuries detected. Pain levels during expiration—estimated as extreme. Final determination: This organic suffered before dying.”
Azazel’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists. Whoever caused this Ozevroc’s death wasn’t looking to just eliminate a foe, they reveled in causing extreme pain and suffering. He looked up at the stasis pod holding the woman.
“JR14, please examine the woman in the pod to ensure her health.”
“Affirmative.” JR14 buzzed away.
Azazel turned his attention back to the dead alien. He couldn’t let someone who suffered like this to be ignored in its final moments.
“May the universe cradle you once more in her tender embrace, my friend, and renew your spirit in the boundless warmth of her eternal grace.” He closed his eyes and ran an open palm over the torso of the Ozevroc.
With his psychic ability, he scrambled the creature’s molecules into the finest stardust, then waved them free to be absorbed into the cosmos.
When he opened his eyes, the alien’s body was gone, as if it had never been there.