Deus
I open one eye. It hurts like a nevver, so I close it again. After a while, I think I should probably attempt the eye thing once more. It still hurts, and the blinding white light sears into my pupil.
“The subject is awake.” It’s a bot voice, metallic and cold.
“I’ll tear your innards out,” I attempt to say.
All that comes out is a series of grunts. My voice is gone, taken by the tight grip around my neck. I attempt to lift my arms, move my hands or my legs. I get so far and then…
A lightning bolt spears through me, causing an almost instant paralysis.
I am as weak as a newborn sarkarnling once more. Unable to move, unable to stop the thing going into my eye and holding it open.
“This is an interesting specimen.” A different voice, not a bot, fills my ears. “Unusually resistant to the usual methods of containment.”
I attempt to tell whatever it is to nev off, but there is only a growl.
“Some of them are.” A second voice. “This is part of a group we infected with a virus. It survived. You can tell by the DNA scarring.”
“Not all of them survived.”
“No. But the ones who did are the better specimens. And any they have mated with.”
“They mate? How primitive.”
“You have not worked on Sarkarnii before?”
“I have not.”
“Then you will find this enjoyable.” The second voice has an element of amusement within it, but not in a way I think will be good for me.
“Working with a new specimen is always an experience,” the first voice says, moving closer to me. Something fills my vision, something grey and green.
And a stench.
It doesn’t matter what they once looked like, you can always recognize an Ulep by their stench.
I attempt to recoil, but my body still isn’t prepared to assist.
“This one seems to have lost some of its ability to change form at will.”
My tail shifts. I can feel it. It swings from side to side as if unaffected by the hold these Ulep have on the rest of my body.
“You were saying?”
“Increase the gas.”
A puff of hot air goes up my nostrils. I attempt to gasp in some clean air, but that too is filled with droplets which coat my mouth and tongue. A bliss flows through me, not what I want, but what I’m getting.
“There we go. It’ll sleep now.”
“Good, because it isn’t going to like what we do to it.”
The voices fall away, everything falls away until it is me, floating in space, not sure if my wings are on or if I even still have a head.
One thing I do know is I will get back to my Lydia. I tried to tell her when we were in the cabin that something was wrong, that there was something filling my head with nonsense, but the words wouldn’t come out right.
I am never going to let her go. She is my soul, my heart, my shift, and my flame. Lydia is my mate and I wouldn’t want it any other way.