8. Merle
Merle
It doesn’t matter that I expected it or that I heard him breathing. When I open my eyes and see the alpha lying on the ground staring at me, my heart starts thundering away in my chest, my bladder screams at me, but I’m frozen, unable to move.
Fear is an insidious thing, and I am a connoisseur.
“Morning,” he whispers and slides a cup towards me that smells of cocoa and coffee.
I scrunch into an even tighter ball, and millimeter by millimeter, I edge back until I’m almost out from under the bed. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. If he wasn’t breathing, I’d think he was dead.
He bounces up, and I explode in reaction, throwing myself back, plastered against the wall, my knees tucked to my chest, arms up, ready to stop the blows from falling.
When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me with an expression of what appears to be shock and intense distress. He purses his pretty lips and slowly lowers his arms.
He blows out his cheeks and skips a few steps to the side. I spin so that I’m facing him, watching the danger he’s bringing.
Blond hair that gleams. Flashes of memories from yesterday resurface. Was it yesterday? I still don’t know where I am.
He edges closer, ignoring the way I stiffen until he’s almost within arm’s reach.
“Do you keep something sharp?” His voice is like honey. Is everything about him beautiful?
I stare at him, wondering what that means. Is he going to kill me?
He pulls out a rectangle piece of metal and shows it to me, then presses a button. The knife that springs from inside is sharp and glints in the light.
I jerk so hard I slam my elbow into the wall, but I don’t even acknowledge the pain. All my focus is on him.
“Here.”
He holds it out.
I don’t dare take it.
With a grumbling huff, he places it on the floor, slides it towards me, then stands up and bounds off, out of the room. The blue-haired giant walks in, and again, he takes the danger out of the room, leaving me feeling exhausted. He spots me straight away and carries a tray to me.
He crouches, trying to look small, and puts the tray on the ground.
It’s got so much on it, it’s a wonder he didn’t spill anything trying to bring it in.
There’s scrambled eggs and sunny side up, bacon, sausage, tomato, onion, pancakes, toast, jam, butter, three types of cereal, a bottle of water, a cup of tea, a cup of coffee, and an electrolyte drink.
I’ve never seen so much food in my life. I don’t know what to look at. Is this a trap? Am I going to die if I eat this? A last meal?
“Sage and Blaze went overboard,” he says in a low voice. “I added this.” He points to the small orange and the tips of his ears turn red.
I don’t know what to make of it. If he’s going to kill me, why is he so embarrassed?
He stands up and stomps away, leaving me alone with the tray.
I reach for the orange.
I’m bent over the toilet, throwing up the cereal, sure they’ve poisoned me, the orange clutched in my hand when I feel the presence of someone invade my space.
I’m helpless, retching violently. My fingers clutch the porcelain hard.
I watch out of the corner of my watering eyes as the omega comes in and sits on the side of the bathtub, watching with a great deal of interest.
“Dumbasses.”
I think he’s talking to me, but he’s staring into space, not even looking my way. I grab some paper and wipe my mouth with a shaking hand and slump against the wall. I’m all sweaty, and my stomach aches.
“Stand up.”
The order comes with such command I don’t even think of disobeying.
He waits until I stand up, then gestures for me to follow him. At this point in time, I don’t have the ability or will to fight anymore, so I trail after him, dragging my feet. He leads me back into the kitchen and points at a stool.
“Sit.”
I pull it out and sit, my shoulders tense.
His movements are slow and methodical. He doesn’t talk to me; he doesn’t look at me.
I hold the orange to my chest and glance around, taking in the black cabinets that go floor to ceiling, except where the stove and kitchen sink is.
There’s a massive wooden island that is clearly where they prepare food and another bench coming out from that with three stools on one side.
I’m sitting at the one furthest from the omega.
There’s a door behind me and one in front, while the omega’s is on my left. I do not like having my back exposed.
Despite the kitchen having a homey feel, it appears to be all new.
And again, no windows.
The omega turns, frustrated, and lets out a rattling hiss, before he spots something that makes him smile. He goes and slams a palm to it and with a whoosh, another hidden door opens.
My jaw drops open as I see all the food in there. It’s like a shop. There’s so much.
“That’s five,” he mutters.
I want to ask what’s five. How did he know it was there? What’s in the back?
He goes in and comes out with a container that says sugar.
I watch as he dumps some into the pot he’s got on the stove.
“This is a Sanderson family recipe. When you get sick, when you need comfort, Yvonne makes big pots of this. It’s easy on the stomach but filling and helps you get your energy back.”
After that, he stays silent while he cooks.
He sets a bowl in front of me, then plops down a spoon.
I force myself to look up into his eyes, though it hurts to do so. You can learn a lot from what is hidden in their eyes.
His are shuttered, cunning. I don’t learn a damn thing, but I don’t think he wishes me harm. Why would he go through all the effort of cooking just to poison me?
I pick up the spoon and dig in. It’s porridge in a way I’ve never tasted it. Sweet but thick, the flavour is mellow yet pleasant. Every time I’ve had it, it’s been cold and lumpy with no flavour and full of things that will hurt me. He leans against the cupboards and watches me as I eat.
“Have you seen, oh!”
I tense, the spoon clattering to the bench. The omega, Pix, picks it up and holds it out to me, while I twist around as the silver-haired Sage walks into the room. He smiles at me.
“Good morning, Merle.”
I gulp, trying to calm the startle response.
He goes to the cupboard and pulls out a glass and a jug of orange juice. I hold my orange tighter, hiding it from him.
Pix takes my hand and wraps my fingers around the spoon. “You can’t fight us all without food. Eat.”
I look up at him, gaping at the outrageous statement, but he simply snatches an energy drink and walks out of the room, not having even acknowledged the other alpha.
The silver-haired alpha watches him go.
“So, Merle, I’m not sure if you remember me from yesterday. It was a bit of a mess, to be honest, but my name is Sage, and this is my home.”
I stare at him, trembling a little when I remember how easily he made me do things yesterday.
“Please eat, I’m not going to touch you or hurt you. I’m just making breakfast for Blaze. He’s in his office, and if I don’t feed him, he won’t eat at all. He gets a little bit obsessed about the projects he’s working on.”
I eat a little more, but my stomach is tight, so when he’s not looking, I get off my chair and slink out of the room.
There are lots of closed doors and a few locked ones.
Some shared spaces, but the one I’m looking for is wide open.
I slink back in and sit down against the wall on the far side.
The tray of food is gone, but there’s a couple of water bottles, a book, and another jacket.
I sit there until I start falling asleep, then I lie down, my head on the jacket, facing the door where I can see anyone enter, and I sleep.
Time passes with visits from them. They all come, except the detective. But mostly it’s King, Rolly, and Pix. I get used to them suddenly opening the doors, bringing books, food, drink, clothes, and other little things. They always talk in low voices, as if they are trying not to startle me.
At night, sometimes when they are sleeping, I explore. Just a few steps out of the room, then back, trying to find the courage to run.
I gradually learn their names. Pix or Daega is the omega. King is the blue-haired alpha. Rolly is blond. Sage and his alpha, Blaze, and the last person here is Roseland.
There is no one else.
I keep expecting them to find me, or for the alphas here to suddenly change into the monsters they are. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten fooled. People will go to extremes if they enjoy the game well enough.
My dreams are plagued with nightmares that have me waking, lost in vicious memories. My days are filled with reliving each and every single decision that led me to this point. If only I hadn’t chosen this path, if only I’d taken that fork, I should never have spoken up, I should…
But no matter how many times I go over it, I end up in the same place, making the same decisions.
There’s no hope for me if I can’t even help myself.
My bruises fade from the almost black purple to green, then yellow, before they vanish completely. My energy levels claw their way back, and a full stomach helps my aching muscles and weight increase back to a less close-to-death level.
But with the slow and gradual return of my health comes a return of my awareness. The fact that I can’t stay here indefinitely, my curiosity about my surroundings, the strange alphas, and this bunker-like home.
Every day, King brings me an orange on a tray, not speaking a single word to me.
He just places the tray on the floor in front of me and walks out.
The omega comes in and brings the porridge.
Rolly…well, sometimes I wake up with him lying there staring at me with this smile that makes me feel uneasy; sometimes he brings me things.
But I like the shiny things he brings. There’s a little bowl he brought that was so reflective that I could see my image in it.
I keep that under the mattress, where no one can steal it.
I don’t see the others.
But the door is open. I can go out. There are no locks or rules, no doors stopping me. I stare at the temptation day after day, hour after hour, with nothing else to do but think.
One thought is louder than the rest.
I need to escape.
But I wait, biding my time, gaining my strength. They bring me clothes and shoes, a hairbrush, toothbrush. I can shower as many times as I like; I can sleep where I like. Eat what I want. Do what I want.
The trap is going to snap closed around me, eventually.
I shower in the middle of the night in the veil of darkness, and I sleep on the carpet-covered concrete floor.
No one tells me to stop.
The day I decide to really explore is just like any other in this strange underground world. I find the courage from the shreds that I wear like a tattered cloak and slink out of the room, looking both ways along the corridor, waiting for the shout from the alphas telling me to stop.
Nothing comes.
I get to the first door and pause, sniffing. I follow the hallway, noting the scents; my feet whisper quiet on the soft carpet.
At the end, I find a door open, and when I peer inside, I see King attacking a punching bag. He’s vicious and strong, much stronger than he looks. Rolly is lying on the bench press, his ankle crossed over his knee.
“She’s really beautiful, isn’t she?”
King doesn’t answer.
“I wonder if she likes the presents I’ve been bringing her.”
“No presents,” King says sharply. “You give weird presents; you will scare her!”
“Moi?” Rolly says with his fingers pressed to his chest. Even from here, I can see him smiling. “I would never scare her. She might like a bouquet of fingers.”
Fingers? My mouth drops open. Who are these alphas?
King slumps. “We all already scare her.”
Rolly sits up. “With that shitty, defeatist attitude, of course, we will.”
“Why aren’t you chasing Pix?”
“I tried. He almost skewered my balls. I told him, I would court him again tomorrow when he’s not PMSing.”
King groans. “You did not say that to him.”
“I did. He went this fantastic shade of red. It was really pretty.”
King groans.
“But what about you, Mr. I Want To Antagonize A Certain Roseland Into Committing Murder?”
King grins. “I can’t help it. There’s something about him that makes me want to get him really mad. I just need to follow him around and brush against him, and he loses his mind.”
I shake my head, deciding the two of them are clearly insane.
A quick circuit of the house reveals no obvious doors.
The kitchen backs onto the dining room, then a movie room.
Before a corridor runs into the bedrooms. The gym is at the far corner, then there’s a row of doors that smell strongly like Roseland, Blaze, and Sage.
The corner room is locked. But along the next corridor is a massive pool.
Who builds a pool in their underground bunker?
The layout is a square with rooms on the inside and outside, but the bigger communal rooms are always on the outside.
I go back into my room and sit down in my blanket, pulling out the three spoons I’ve stolen and putting them under my jacket pillow.
I lay there and think about how to get out of this maze, but no answer comes.