It was a minute past midnight and the moon outside the castle was deliciously bright and round. I stood admiring it at the window, the fire crackling in the hearth behind me, shadows dancing along the flagstones. Though none were cast at my own feet.

Beyond the castle, the black cliffs crumbled away into a deep ravine, where dark trees bundled together like matchsticks, and a gushing river swelled between the rocks like a silverbacked serpent. The wind whistled through the broken casement of the window, chilling the air and threatening to extinguish the fire.

There was a whisper of movement on my left and one of the sisters appeared beside me, bowing her head. Her dress was a deep red, the same colour as her eyes.

“It’s a pleasant night,” I mused, raising the collar of my black coat against the chill as the moonlight dusted the windows. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders as she raised her head.

“Yes Master,” she said in a subdued tone. “However, I fear I shall ruin it with my tidings.”

I turned to her fully, examining the grave expression on her face. Her lips were pinched. “Why is that? What tidings do you bring?”

Her red eyes glowed in the firelight. A long shadow was drawn across her features. “A peasant house is in the midst of construction beside the castle.”

I stared at her for a moment. The fire crackled sharply. “A… peasant house?” I finally repeated, scoffing at her words. Surely she was mistaken. The area around my castle was a perfectly barren wasteland; the peasants in the settlements knew better than to encroach on my land without permission, never mind erect a building on my grounds. “What is this trickery?”

“No trickery, Master. Come see for yourself.”

The vampire sister turned and strode towards the opposite side of the tower, her long red gown trailing behind her like a pair of folded wings. Curious, I followed her, our footsteps silent on the stone floor. I assumed I had misunderstood her, for nobody would be foolish enough to even approach my castle. Unless they were naive or ignorant of my nature.

But as we paused by the window, and she lifted a hand to point outside, I stood aghast at what I saw. A short distance away from the front gates of my castle, visible through the fog, there was indeed a house being built. Beneath the cold glow of the moon, I saw piles of stone and wood, the loose structure of rafters and foundations already laid. What sort of fool would dare build a house so close to my castle? Who would dare to become my neighbour without first consulting the master of this tower?

I was furious and intrigued at the same time. Only the dumbest, and perhaps bravest, of men would do such a thing. And I found myself feeling very much inclined to meet him.

“The house seems deserted now,” the vampire sister observed, resting her hand against her cheek. “Perhaps they have given up?”

“Or perhaps they only build during the day, knowing the weakness the sunlight inflicts upon us creatures of the night,” I said with a harrumph.

“You are wise, Master,” she said. “Shall I take my sisters over there and tear it down? It is a stain upon your grand castle.”

I pondered her offer. “No. I should like to meet the fool first,” I decided, extending my fangs below my lips. “Perhaps he would see fit to grace my castle with his… delicious presence.”

The sister covered her mouth with a low chuckle. “I understand, Master. You would see it fit to make a meal of him?”

I nodded. “Leave the peasant house for now,” I told her, turning away from the window with a flourish of my coat. “I wish to see how far he dares to go.”

The following night, as I rose from my coffin at the heart of midnight, my first thought was of the house being built by the castle. Had more progress been made, or had the owner seen the measure of his own foolishness and deserted? It would be a shame if he had fled before a meal could be made of him.

It had been a while since I had anything to amuse me on these long nights, just as long as it had been since fresh blood had passed these lips. The peasants in the surrounding settlements had grown wise to my nature and seen fit to ward their houses, stringing garlic and crosses upon the threshold. I was only able to feed when an unwitting traveller passed by, or a fool decided to build a house directly beside my castle.

The tower was quiet as I made my way to the top, winding through the warren of rooms and climbing the narrow, crumbling stairways. The sisters were nowhere to be seen; perhaps frolicking outside in the moonlight as they so often did. I reached the highest point of the castle and strode to the window that overlooked the barren grounds. From this height, I could even glimpse the closest settlement in the far distance; a small cluster of thatched houses and burning torches that lit the foggy hills like burning eyes.

But my concern was much closer. Lowering my gaze to the land right outside the gates, I saw that the house had changed. There were more walls than yesterday, denser foundations, the first signs of carpentry. The fool really had continued building the house. Had he not been warned of the dark Count that occupied the castle? Had he not heard the rumours of the blood-feasting creatures that stalked these lands once the sun went down? Why else would he choose to dwell in my vicinity, if not for ignorance?

I shook my head, almost pitying the poor halfwit for what he had brought upon himself. But I should delight in showing him the truth soon enough; that he had elected himself a willing sacrifice for me and my hungry brides.

It was a shame that he vacated the house during the night, for I would have to wait longer to lay my eyes upon him. Would he not show himself before the house was finished?

“I see the building is progressing,” a voice whispered behind me. I’d been too lost in my thoughts to hear them approach. I turned, seeing two of the sisters behind me. They too were observing the house through the window. Their wild, windswept hair and bright eyes confirmed my suspicions that they had been dancing outside.

“Yes,” I muttered. “It would seem so.”

“What a blight upon the castle,” the other sister said, her fair skin glittering in the moonlight. “I hope the trouble is worth the meal.”

“It will be,” I said, casually flicking my hand towards the half-built dwelling, “if only the fool would hurry up and be done with it.”

The next night, more progress had been made on the building, but the owner had still not shown himself. I grew more agitated that I was allowing this to happen, but reminded myself that I would soon enough be able to quench my thirst.

So night after night, as the moon began to wane, the house’s shadow grew bigger, and my hunger grew stronger. The fool always fled before night fell, leaving the evidence of his daytime activities for me to observe. The dwelling had taken on the same shape of the peasant houses in the surrounding settlements; white stone and timber, with a long thatched roof. He had even tilled the soil into a small garden, erecting a wooden fence around the plot in front of the building. But compared to my grand castle, with its dark crumbling bricks, spiralling towers and winding, labyrinthine rooms, it was a blight. And I wanted it gone.

Finally, more than a week after the house was little more than a pile of stone and timber, one of the sisters woke me with news that the structure was finished.

I rose from my coffin, sluggish and weary from slumber, and fastened my coat about my neck. The sisters had already lit the fire, but the air was chilled.

I followed her to the window and set my gaze upon the house. A single candle sat in the windowsill, guttering in a draught. A lit candle. Did that mean the house was occupied? The fool had not fled this night.

“It’s time,” I announced, “to show this fool once and for all what happens when you anger the Count.” The other sisters joined us, and I turned towards them with a slow smile. “I hope you are hungry.”

The three sisters screeched in delight, grasping each other’s hands and dancing in circles, their gowns fluttering around their legs. The fire roared in the hearth.

But as I began to cross the room, one of the sisters stopped me with a gasp.

“Master, wait. There’s someone at the gate.” She was pointing out of the window. I peered down at the large wrought-iron gate that fronted the castle, my eyes narrowing. A figure stood by the fence, carrying a lantern. His face glowed in the flickering light, revealing a sharp, sloping nose and dark eyes.

“Who would be foolish enough to call upon me at this hour?” I snarled, my black coat twisting around me as I turned from the window.

“Perhaps your new neighbour,” one of the sisters answered, “has come to hasten our feast.”

“Perhaps,” I said, already striding towards the doorway.

The sisters swept after me, whispering amongst themselves. Flames guttered as we passed lit candles, stirring the dust at our feet and disturbing billowing cobwebs. There was a haste to our movements as we descended the tower. It had certainly been a while since we’d had prey wander into our arms like this.

Crossing the foyer, the long red carpet spilling out like blood, I threw open the doors and stepped out into the chilled night, the three sisters stepping in my wake. The moon was a pale sickle, its silvery glow dancing around my shadowless feet as the stranger at the gates called out to me.

“Hello there!”

Struck by his brazenness, I almost flew at him in anger, but restrained myself. Ignorant minds really were unfathomable. With a flick of my wrist, the gates began to creak open. The man remained at the threshold, holding his lantern aloft as he stared back at me. He was of medium build, with stocky shoulders and a mop of thick tousled hair. His clothes were poorly made, covered in dirt and patches. He had the audacity to smile at me as I glared in return.

“What business have you here at my castle?” I demanded, wanting to sate my curiosity before I sated my hunger.

The man cleared his throat, raising his lantern to the crude house sitting barely thirty metres behind him. So this was indeed the proprietor of the building; what a brave, albeit dimwitted, man he was to present himself before me like this. “I’ve just this morning finished constructing my house,” he said, not seeming to notice the displeasure on my face, “and a slight issue has come to my attention.”

“An… issue?” I repeated, my brows arching sharply.

“Yes. During the day, the leftmost tower of your castle casts a shadow over my garden,” the man said regretfully. “I hoped that you might be amicable enough to remove it. Or at the very least relocate the tower, so that it does no harm the roses I am trying to grow. All life needs sunlight, after all.”

I stared at him, completely aghast. Behind me, even the sisters had been stunned into silence. The audacity of this imbecile, to ask me to change my own castle for his benefit. The man was not right in the head, surely.

“How dare you–” I began to seethe, but the man interrupted me, lifting a finger as if hushing a child.

“I do understand it is a large undertaking I’m asking of you, but my gratitude would be immense,” he added.

“You think I care about your gratitude?” I sneered at him, clenching my fists beneath my coat. The gall of this man. Who did he think he was? “Do you know who I am?”

The man stared at me, the lanternlight dancing over his blank expression. “You are the owner of this castle, I had presumed?”

“Precisely. And what makes you think that I, as the Count of this castle, would do the bidding of a mere peasant?”

The man scowled at me, a shadow encroaching upon his face. “I shall ask you again, and I do hope you will be quite civil this time. Will you remove the tower from your castle so that my roses might see the light?”

“I don’t give a damn about your roses,” I snapped.

“Now, there’s no need to be rude,” the man said, his voice turning bristly. The shadows deepened around his eyes as he narrowed them. “I’m asking for a simple favour–”

I scoffed in his face, my rage burning beneath my skin. It took a lot to make a vampire’s blood burn hot. I almost couldn’t believe what he was saying. This fool considered the reconstruction of my ancient castle a mere favour? Asking me to tear down part of my fortress so that he might grow some roses.

I took a measured step towards him, lifting my shoulders to appear taller. My fangs were itching to taste his blood. For all the disrespect he had shown me, there was no escape. I would suck this man dry by the night’s end, leaving nothing but a fleshless husk.

“Once again, I implore you to consider my–”

I was no longer in the mood to listen to his insane ramblings. He had agitated me far too much to go back from this. I would show him, and anyone else who might learn of tonight, what happens to those who cross me.

Baring my fangs, I lunged forward, ready to sink my teeth into his neck.

In one swift motion, the man pulled his hand back into a fist and threw it towards me. Blinded partially by the lanternlight, I did not see the attack until his knuckles met my face.

Pain exploded through my jaw, and there was a terrible snap as my left fang bore the brunt of his punch, splitting completely in half. The hit landed with enough force to send me staggering backwards and, incredulous and in shock, I fell to the ground.

Dirt bit into my eyes as I landed face-down, my broken fang scraping against my lower lip. Sputtering, I raised my head, just as the man lifted his light and calmly made his way back to his house.

Behind me, the sisters watched him leave in a choked silence, before hastening to help me back to my feet.

To say I had been dealt a great humiliation was an understatement. How did a mortal man possess such strength? Enough to break one of my precious fangs and completely overpower me.

With a bruised face, and an even more bruised ego, I hobbled back into my castle, the three sisters trailing silently after me.

By the following night, the leftmost tower had been partially disassembled, leaving a gaping wound in the side of the castle. Wind gusted through like howling wraiths, immediately extinguishing any fire I tried to light, leaving a heavy chill in the air. The sisters, at least, seemed to delight in the pool of moonlight that was cast upon the open ground.

Workers had been swarming the castle all day, interrupting my sleep with their banging hammers and chiselling tools as they took the tower apart brick by brick, but I had little choice. The man had made his demands, proven his strength, and forced my hand. Now I had to destroy my own magnificent tower so that the fool might grow his roses. And I hadn’t been able to harvest even a drop of blood either.

This was a defeat, and a humiliation, that would take centuries to heal.

I’m working on a psychological horror novel set in an old psychiatric hospital called *St. Marian Institute*.
A young psychologist arrives for his internship, expecting a normal job. But then he finds a room on old blueprints that doesn’t exist anymore, his own medical file with dates from the future, and patients who seem to know things they couldn’t possibly know.
I’m going for a slow, unsettling atmosphere rather than ghosts or jumpscares, with the main mystery being whether something is really wrong with the institute or if the protagonist is slowly losing his grip on reality.
Does this sound interesting, or a bit too familiar? I’d genuinely appreciate some honest opinions.
And what would creep you out more: the hospital hiding something, or the possibility that you can’t trust your own mind?

I don’t even know how I landed this position. I'm not qualified at all. All I know is I was looking online for a way to make quick money on the side to help pay for groceries or whatever.

I ended up coming across this ad on, like, the 6th Google page. Hidden between obvious scams and what I was 100 percent sure were viruses.

That’s actually what made this particular ad stand out. It didn’t look like typical 6th-page gobbledegook. It was actually pretty well put together.

The incentive was simple enough. 500 dollars for every crime I could act as a witness for, with opportunities for advancement.

I called up the number that was listed, just to feel things out, and was met with an actual human on the other end. Not only was she human. She sounded like she was actually tired of all the calls she was getting.

“Can I help you?” she hissed.

“Yeah, I was just looking online when I came across this ad…”

“Are you 18 or older?” she interrupted.

“Uh, yeah, of course I am. I just wanted to make sure…”

“What’s your email address?”

“My email address? Why would you need that?”

She sounded personally offended that I was even asking. Like somehow it was me being unreasonable.

“Well, hon, so we can send you the onboarding information. You know what an onboarding is, right?”

“Yeah, but I…”

“Listen, Mike, it’s an easy job. All the information is in the onboarding packet. Take it or leave it, I don’t really care.”

I don’t know why I gave her my information. Maybe it’s the mommy issues. All I know is she felt dominating.

Anyway, the email came through about 5-10 minutes later. Didn’t go to my spam mailbox, which was a good sign, I guess.

I threw on my monocle and went over everything with a fine-tooth comb. Just to make sure I wasn’t getting myself into any legal trouble or anything. Truthfully, though, the whole thing was pretty straightforward.

Call-based job. They call, I can either accept or reject the assignment. And all I had to do was be at the location of a crime as it took place.

Well, maybe that’s simplifying it too much. I actually needed to be the first person to witness it. They kept a pretty strict schedule.

I’m not sure how they got my number, though. Not long after I went over the onboarding information, my phone started ringing off the hook. I was getting calls at least once an hour.

It wasn’t until the third or fourth call that I accepted an assignment, though. Mostly because it was literally just 15 minutes away from my house. I could literally bike there.

I was supposed to show up at 1:03 PM on the dot. They gave me coordinates instead of an address. All I had to do was just wait.

I got there right on time. A little intersection right on the edge of town. When I arrived, all I could do was just stand there on the sidewalk, waiting for something to happen.

Finally, right at 1:07, a guy in a white Miata blew through the stoplight and T-boned this other guy in a pickup truck. The crash looked pretty brutal, but both of them seemed pretty alright, I guess. I mean, they got out and started arguing, so I’m assuming no one was too injured.

See, I thought I was gonna have to be a witness for the police. But not even 30 seconds after the incident occurred, I got a notification on my phone.

500 dollars had been deposited into my bank account. Then my phone rang with no caller ID.

Some guy with the deepest, darkest voice I’d ever heard simply said, “Assignment complete. Return home and await next assignment,” before abruptly hanging up on me.

Who was I to give even a morsel of a hoot or a holler, though? All I cared about was that 500 dollars hitting my bank account.

Needless to say, I started accepting more and more assignments after that. Nothing too crazy would ever happen. I saw a lot of car accidents. Lot of bar fights. More than a few shoplifting incidents.

Then I got a call I’d never gotten before. This one was classified as ‘intermediate.’ And it paid 750 instead of 500.

I just thought, hell, I’ll take it. Couldn’t be too bad.

The time was kind of late, though. 11:12 PM. Not to mention the coordinates led me to a dark alley behind a popular bar in town.

I sat there and waited. Ducking behind a dumpster and listening for, I don’t know, crime to occur or something.

At 11:15, it started.

I heard an angry male voice and a pleading female voice. Both sounding equally intoxicated. I peeked out from behind my dumpster and saw that the man had a knife.

He was poking it at the lady, attempting to steal her purse, but she wouldn’t let go. That is, until he stabbed her. Kinda let go no problem after that.

He snatched the purse and left the knife in her torso as she fell to the ground. Thirty seconds later, the 750 hit my account.

Every instinct told me to call the police, but right when I went to dial, I got a call.

“Assignment complete. Return home and await next assignment.”

The line went dead. I stared at my phone. My eyes flicked over towards the dying woman. Unbelievably, she managed to meet my gaze.

I think she tried to mouth a ‘help me,’ but her voice was so garbled it was hard to make out. Besides, I couldn’t help her. As soon as my line went dead, I got another notification on my phone.

A text from an unknown number that simply read, “Do not interfere. Assignment complete. Return home and await next assignment.”

So that’s exactly what I did.

And I’d love to tell you that after that I retired and moved on with my life. But who am I kidding? I was making enough to leave my regular job behind. All I had to do was watch shit happen.

I kept taking those intermediate assignments. I watched drug deals go wrong. Watched people bleed out on the hot asphalt. Watched robberies turn into homicides like it was nothing.

I guess I should’ve listened to my conviction. Maybe that would’ve saved me a lot of sleepless nights. But at least I was tossing and turning with a roof over my head.

And besides, it’s kinda just the way life goes. You live. You make decisions. Sometimes those decisions get you killed. Either way, we all die someday.

Even still, I probably should’ve stopped at intermediate. Because I got my first advanced assignment last week. Got paid 1000 dollars, but I don’t think that’s enough for what I had to see. At least, in hindsight.

When I first got offered the assignment, I was fired up and ready to go. Got the time. Got the coordinates. And off I went, mentally preparing myself as I made my way to the location.

As I got closer, though, a pit started opening up in my stomach. I recognized this place. I wasn’t out in the world. I was home. Well, my old home. Back when I used to live with my parents.

Unlike other times, I could hear the crime building up as I approached. Dad must’ve been drunk again. All I could hear was his angry voice and Mom’s screams as she fought back tears.

A notification popped up on my phone.

“Do not interfere.”

So I didn’t. I just peeked in through the window while Mom and Dad paced back and forth through the house, fighting like cats and dogs.

Normally, that’d just be Tuesday. But Dad had a gun this night. He was waving it around. Punctuating his screams with it. All while Mom stood her ground like the fierce woman she was.

I’d love to tell you that part of me wanted to interfere, but in all honesty, this was just business to me. Just another day at the office.

Even still, I won’t lie to you, seeing Dad smack Mom across her face definitely struck a chord with me. But I remained professional. I just watched and waited.

Part of me hoped that was it. That the crime was the domestic assault. That the money would hit my account any second. But all that came were more screams from inside the house.

Fortunately, Mom and Dad lived out in the sticks. Didn’t have many neighbors to call the police. That would’ve thrown a wrench in this whole operation. Instead, there was nobody there to stop the escalation.

Things just kept getting louder and louder until it finally happened. Right there in the living room. The room where I used to open presents every Christmas. Where me and Dad used to watch football together before his drinking got out of control.

Now that room was covered in my mother’s blood and brain matter. Across the walls, staining the carpet, a smoking hole in the wall behind her.

Immediately, I saw Dad’s entire demeanor change. He went from filled with rage to overwhelmed with remorse and regret in basically the blink of an eye.

I felt my phone vibrate with a notification, but I didn’t bother to check it. I couldn’t help but keep staring at Dad as he fell over Mom’s lifeless body, sobbing uncontrollably.

My phone rang and rang, but I didn’t answer.

All I did was watch.

Watch as Dad’s grief overwhelmed him. Watch as regret took the form of self-hatred. Watch as the gun he used to kill Mom was pointed at his own head. And watch as he, too, fell limply to the ground.

His eyes met mine for the last time. There were no memories of my childhood. No love that once existed somewhere within him. Just two empty pupils fluttering like a baby doll’s.

I didn’t cry. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. I’d been so desensitized that all I could think about was how I’d have to react when the police told me.

I finally answered my phone, though. Got the same message I always got. The assignment was completed. It was time for me to go home and wait for the next one.

I had to put on a big song and dance for authorities. Not to mention their funerals. Which was surprisingly difficult because just… I don’t know.

It didn’t feel too big to me. I mean, yeah, it stung, they were my parents and all. But just… we didn’t talk too much anymore, you know?

Ah, you don’t care about that. No need to drone on.

Point is, I didn’t take a lot of assignments for a few days after that. It was the least I could do.

But time has passed now. Everybody has to move on at some point. I still get those calls every day. I get a lot of advanced offers.

I think it’s time I finally pick myself up by my bootstraps and get back to work.

I don’t know what she’s been on. All I know is I wish she’d stop. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.

We’ve been together for 4 years now. Never once had she done this before. Then, one day, it became an every-night thing.

We turn in for the night, the lights go out, we go to sleep. Then, however long later, in the middle of the night, I’m woken up by the sense of being stared at.

I open my eyes, and all I see in the darkness is her silhouette looming over me. The first time it happened, I tried calling her name, but all she responded with were snores.

I turn on the flashlight on my phone, and she’s dead asleep, but her mouth is twisted into a painful-looking smile. All while she’s on her hands and knees, leaning over me. 3 inches from my face.

It’s gotten to the point where she’s chipping teeth from clenching her jaw so tight. We’ve already been to the dentist nearly 6 times, but it just keeps happening.

She never remembers it the next day. But she for sure notices the pain in her jaw. But by the time night rolls around, she’s right back at it.

I’ve tried to be patient with her. I mean, it’s not her fault. At least, I don’t think it is.

She’s just so hard to wake up when it happens. That’s the part that really gets me. I kind of just have to wait or go back to sleep because she acts as though she’s in a coma every single time.

I’ve tried screaming at her before. Shaking her. Prying her eyelids open. Nothing wakes her up. And that smile never changes.

I think everything is starting to evolve, though. Because now, instead of just smiling, she’s starting to salivate in her sleep. If her presence doesn’t wake me up, the drool does. And her snores are starting to sound less like snores and more like growls.

I keep having that dream where I’m drowning. I wake up and find my face covered in hot, foamy saliva. My girlfriend snarling at me through gritted teeth.

But, again, she doesn’t like when I bring it up. She acts personally offended, like it’s somehow my fault she doesn’t remember. She’d rather pretend it’s not happening and leave me to deal with the brunt of the consequences.

And it’s not like we haven’t tried to fix things before. I’ve slept in other rooms. I still wake up to her 3 inches from my face. I’ve slept in my car. She’s smiling at me through the window.

I just don’t know what to do. I don’t want us to break up. I don’t want to ask her to leave. But I can’t keep living like this. It’s affecting my sleep. That’s affecting my work. It can only get worse if nothing changes.

And something needs to change fast.

Because now something else is waking me up at night. And it’s the biting. I never see her doing it. All I feel is the pain.

But she’s always back in her usual spot by the time my eyes shoot open.

Snarling, smiling, and foaming at the mouth.

Then she tries to pretend that I somehow gave those bite marks to myself the next day when I confront her about it.

Last night, she actually broke skin. I could feel the blood puddling on my arm and soaking through my comforter. But she wouldn’t let me move to get a bandage.

I don’t know. We’ve talked about this so many times now. I don’t think I can keep dealing with this.

I think I’m just gonna eat her before she can eat me.

It started with just one.

I was taking a shower when I got this weird pain in my right arm. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed it before. I guess I’d been too busy to notice the irritation.

When my eyes landed on it, though, I immediately felt bile rising up in my throat.

It wasn’t a maggot. No, what I actually saw when I glanced down was what looked like a boil. About the size of a quarter, bright red and brimming with what I assumed was green and white pus.

It was hot to the touch. So much so that I had to draw my hand back as soon as I fingered it. It was like touching a glowing eye on a stove.

It sort of… responded to my touch.

Like I’d disturbed it or something.

Needless to say, showering quickly became my lowest priority as I hopped out and wrapped my torso with a towel.

I went to my bedroom and found some tweezers that I usually used for splinters and what have you. I started trying to pop the thing, but it just wouldn’t budge.

The pain was maddening, but the sight of it was worse. I needed this thing off of me. Tweezers refused to work, so I switched to pliers. I kept pulling and pulling until… pop.

The boil burst, and a puddle of syrupy, red, white, and green sludge coated about 6 inches of my forearm.

The pain subsided slightly, but it was replaced with a new sensation. It felt like there was something swimming through my blood and patching the hole in my arm.

I figured that it must’ve been some excess pus, so I just kept squeezing with my thumb and index finger until I caught sight of what actually lay beneath the skin.

I was forcing it through the wound with my squeezing. It was wriggling. It was squirming. And it was massive.

When its body finally poked out through the hole, I grabbed the tweezers again. It held on for dear life, taking chunks of flesh out of my arm as I pulled, but I removed it and examined it between the forceps.

A fucking maggot.

I couldn’t hold back the vomit anymore. I barely had time to grab a trash can before it came spewing out.

I sat the little fucker on my desk and burned it with a lighter. I swear I could hear it screaming in pain as the flame caused it to pop like a tick.

I hoped that’d be the end of it, but that hope was short-lived. It was like my entire arm started to pulsate and bulge after I took out what I thought was the source of the problem.

Boils started popping up all over my arm. From my wrist all the way to my shoulder. They threatened to move to my neck and head if I didn’t act fast.

It was like active volcanoes. I couldn’t even look at myself. All I could do was grab a knife and get to work. Well, a knife and a spatula. I needed something to bite down on just so I didn’t bite my tongue in the process.

The blade glided through the dozen or so boils on my forearm, sliding through them like hot butter as tears fell from my eyes and I stifled screams.

Dozens of maggots fell from each boil I removed. I had to stomp them into my carpet because they just kept crawling towards my feet.

My arm and shoulder were nothing more than raw, bloody meat covered in that syrupy liquid. It was like my body was more maggot than human.

There was an ocean of the things eating away at my dead flesh. I’d scrape them away with the blade, and hundreds more would pop up seemingly out of nowhere.

That’s when my vision started to get blurry. I could feel myself getting weaker and weaker. The world was swimming, and I was getting lightheaded.

I guess I passed out from the blood loss?

I’m not sure. Maybe it was the shock. All I know is, when I woke up… my body was completely healed.

I could still see the bugs writhing beneath my skin, and my carpet was still stained with pus and crushed maggots. But the pain was gone. My flesh was back. The only abnormality was one single boil right in the center of my forearm.

I stared at it for a few minutes.

Ultimately, I decided to leave it there.

There was no way I was going to go through that again.

Look, we all have a past. Peppered with those memories we want so desperately to erase. It’s just a part of being human. Nobody’s perfect.

Me personally… I thought that I’d put my past behind me.

I was a bad person. I did things that I’m far from proud of. Looking back now in my older age, I don’t even know how things spiraled as bad as they did.

All it took was one hit, and it was downhill from there. One little mistake. One memory I wish I could erase. And here we are, all these years later, and I still feel those urges.

I tried therapy. I tried rehabilitation. It worked, for a time.

I don’t know if it was me who wanted to get better or if it was the pressure from my friends and family. They kept telling me they couldn’t protect me forever. That, eventually, my lifestyle would catch up to me, and I’d either be dead or in jail.

I suppressed my urges. I fought my demons. I want so desperately to believe that I kicked my nasty little habit.

I was clean for 11 years. Over a decade without incident. But no matter how many days went by, my demons kept whispering to me. Getting louder and louder as my withdrawals became unbearable.

But I stood firm. I ignored the darkness. To the best of my ability, at least. Don’t get me wrong, there were hard days. Days where I’d lock myself away in my room, too afraid of what would happen if I went out.

It’s a surreal feeling. Not being in control. But that’s what addiction does. You surrender control the minute you take that first hit.

But, like I said, I thought I’d taken that control back. I improved. I became a functioning member of society.

I just think… I don’t know. I think my body wanted it more than my mind did.

I relapsed last month.

Not by choice. God, I know it wasn’t by choice. You don’t achieve 11 years of success by sheer accident. I know it wasn’t me.

It was almost supernatural.

One minute I’m in my room reading my Bible, the next I wake up in a house that I don’t recognize. The familiar scent of copper and iron filled the air.

I thought I was in a nightmare, but the pain in my arm told me that this was just as real as it was all those years ago.

When I saw the claw marks across my forearm and shoulder, I felt my stomach drop. They must’ve fought back. And by the looks of it, they fought hard.

I hardly had time to dwell on my injury, though. The taste in my mouth was making me want to vomit. Not because of the taste, but because of what it represented.

I knew that taste. I loved that taste. I’d spent years trying to forget it, but blood has a way of lingering.

I puked on the floor and felt bones and tendons scratch at my throat. My vision went blurry with tears, but that didn’t prevent me from seeing what I’d done.

A man, somewhere around 30-40, lay sprawled out across the ground. His arms were gone. His stomach was torn open. His jaw had been dislocated and hung open as he stared at me through those empty sockets.

A woman, I presume his wife, lay beside him. Her condition wasn’t much better.

I prayed for God to wake me up. To snap me out of this dream. When I realized it wasn’t going to happen, I begged for forgiveness.

I begged for him to recognize my heart. I pleaded for him to acknowledge my growth. I backslid. I made a mistake. I couldn’t even remember it.

After what felt like hours of bawling my eyes out in a pool of blood and vomit, I realized the sun was beginning to peek through the curtains of this dark room.

I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to throw my life away. I had to move.

I cleaned myself up in their bathroom as best I could before leaving that damn house, already pushing the memory of it back to the darkest corners of my brain.

How did I even end up 20 miles from home? Who were those people? Why am I like this? Why can’t I be better? What the fuck is wrong with me?

I spent the rest of that day locked away in my room, punishing myself with pain. I didn’t deserve to feel comfort.

I kept trying to tell myself that it was nothing more than a hiccup in my progress. That tomorrow would be a new day. But I knew.

I knew that I had reset the system.

I took that hit once again. It was my decision. That’s why I couldn’t blame anyone but myself every time it’s happened since.

This isn’t who I am.

I know I can do better.

I will get this under control if it’s the last thing I do.

You know how they say love finds you in the most unlikely places?

It's a cliché. The kind of line you'd expect to find in some cheap romance novel wedged between two equally cheap pop magazines.

And yet, sometimes the unlikely becomes inevitable.

My name is Adam.

I lived in an eastern-block apartment complex in Most, a city you've probably never heard of and will most certainly never hear of again. The rent was remarkably cheap, mostly because the living conditions made you question whether you wouldn't be better off homeless.

I was twenty-five years old, had recently dropped out of university, and was unemployed.

At that point, I wasn't really living.

I slept at odd hours. Ate when I remembered. Spent most of my time staring at a screen because there was nothing else worth doing.

Days blurred together until I couldn't remember what I'd done the day before.

That was before one small piece of paper changed my life forever.

It happened on a night that had started exactly like every other.

I'd just gotten back to my apartment when I noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor just inside the door.

Someone had slipped it underneath while I was gone.

I barely looked at it.

My first thought was that it was another notice from my landlord. I was behind on my rent, hopelessly in debt, and far beyond the point where I cared enough to pretend I was going to fix any of it.

Whatever threat or warning was printed on that piece of paper could wait.

So I left it there.

For about six hours.

Eventually, sometime around 1AM, I found myself staring at it again.

"Fuck it."

I picked it up.

It wasn't a notice from my landlord.

It was a job offer.

The flyer was surprisingly plain. No company logo. No colorful graphics. Just black text printed on cheap white paper.

YOUNG MEN WANTED.
AGES 18–30.
NO PRIOR EXPERIENCE OR PROFESSIONAL QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY.
PAY: 250 CROWNS PER HOUR.
SHIFT: SIX HOURS EACH NIGHT.

Then came the job description.

"The appointed observer shall observe the object of interest for the duration of his shift."

That was it.

No explanation of what the "object of interest" was. No company name. No details about the work beyond watching something for six hours.

I assumed it was some kind of strangely worded night-guard job. Maybe the company was foreign and had used a translator who wasn't quite good enough at his job.

There was no phone number.

No email.

No website.

Nothing except an address.

I looked it up online.

It led to an old shoe factory that had stopped operating more than thirty years earlier. There were a few old photographs of the building and some records concerning its closure, but not much else.

As far as I could tell, nobody had bought the place since.

That was when I became pretty certain that if I actually went there, I would be murdered and my organs would be sold on the black market.

Not an entirely unreasonable assumption around here, believe it or not.

There was absolutely no way I would be stupid enough to show up at an abandoned factory in the middle of the night.

 

3AM, I was standing in front of the factory.

I wish I could say there was some profound reason why I went.

There wasn't.

I was simply desperate enough to ignore common sense.

The factory looked exactly like it had in the photographs.

Crumbling concrete. Rusted metal. Broken windows. Weeds pushing through cracks in the pavement.

The whole place looked like it had been dead for decades.

I stood outside the entrance for about twenty minutes.

Then I took one step inside.

Immediately, I was surrounded by armored men carrying guns.

Yup.

Getting murdered.

"Now, now. Don't spook the boy too much."

An older man stepped between me and the gunmen.

He looked to be somewhere in his fifties. Gray hair. Expensive coat. Tired eyes.

He wasn't carrying a weapon that I could see.

Somehow, that made him more intimidating than the men pointing rifles at me.

"Or else you might end up having to take his shift."

The men lowered their weapons slightly.

The older man smiled.

"Sorry about this, Adam. Just a necessary unpleasant precaution."

I stared at him.

"How... how do you know my name?"

He laughed.

"Well, we only slipped the flyer under one door. So either you're Adam Devon..."

He looked me up and down.

"...or we have another squatter situation on our hands. In which case, I'll have to let the boys carry on with their task."

He leaned toward me slightly.

"Do we have a squatter situation, boy?"

"No!"

The answer came out much louder and more desperate than I'd intended.

The man's grin widened.

"Wonderful!"

His enthusiasm was very obviously fake.

"If you would be so kind as to follow me, Adam."

I followed.

The complex I was led through was nothing like the abandoned shell I'd seen from outside.

The decrepit factory was apparently just a skin wrapped around something that was very much alive.

Behind the rusted doors and shattered windows were functioning corridors, electrical systems, cameras, reinforced doors, security checkpoints, and enough equipment to make me wonder what the hell kind of place I'd walked into.

And yet there were very few people.

Aside from the occasional armed guard passing through the corridors, the facility was almost completely empty.

The older man opened a door to the security room.

"Here you go. Make yourself comfortable."

I stepped inside.

"But not too comfortable," he added. "This isn't actually where you'll be stationed."

He gave me a thin smile.

"The name's Kenndric."

He closed the door behind us.

"Now, I imagine you have plenty of questions."

I opened my mouth.

"I have absolutely zero desire to answer any of them."

I closed it again.

"So just shut up and listen."

I decided that was probably good advice.

Kenndric walked over to one of the desks and dropped into a chair.

"You were offered a position within our company. The name of which you really don't need to know."

He leaned back.

"Our object of interest requires twenty-four-hour observation. We do have a complete surveillance system here, but, truth be told, nobody actually watches the feeds."

He shrugged.

"This particular object requires close-quarters observation anyway."

I frowned.

"We have several other sad bastards like you taking the other shifts. Your time slot was simply the last one left unfilled."

He looked at me.

"Apparently, nobody else was stupid enough to take the graveyard shift."

I couldn't tell whether he was joking.

Judging by his expression, I didn't think he was.

"Your job literally couldn't be any simpler."

He pointed toward the door.

"You'll sit on a chair and stare at the object until your shift is over. Then you get your sorry ass out of here."

He leaned back.

"Meanwhile, I'll be sitting in here watching my shows."

He pointed at me.

"I don't want to hear from you. I don't want to see you. You don't ask me to open doors for you. There's a reason I have access and you don't."

I swallowed.

"Understood."

"Good."

Kenndric stood.

"Now let's make our way to your workplace."

We left the security room and walked deeper into the facility.

The corridor ahead was almost completely dark.

As we approached, lights flickered on one after another, illuminating the path in front of us.

Eventually, Kenndric stopped in front of a massive door.

He opened it.

"There it is."

The lights inside began coming on.

One by one.

And then I saw the object of interest.

In the middle of the enormous room stood a large glass cube.

Four strange pylons surrounded it, each connected to the glass. Symbols I didn't recognize covered their surfaces.

And inside the glass was a girl.

A young woman, maybe in her early twenties.

She wore pure white pajamas and sat cross-legged on the floor with a collection of crayons scattered around her.

She was drawing on a sheet of paper.

She didn't look toward us.

She barely seemed to notice we'd entered the room.

"That's..."

I stared through the glass.

"That's a girl."

"Dear God," Kenndric said. "We have a genius on our hands."

His voice dripped with condescension.

I looked back at him.

"Why is she in there?"

He didn't answer.

"Is she alright?"

Nothing.

"Is this legal?"

The questions started coming faster.

"Who is she? What did she do? Why is she being kept in there? How long has she been—"

"Did you just think?"

Kenndric's voice cut through mine.

I stopped.

He stared at me.

"Adam, no one is paying you to think."

He walked over to a chair positioned directly in front of the glass cube.

"Leave that to the grown-ups."

He patted the seat.

"You are paid to sit right here."

I looked at the chair.

Then at the girl.

She was still drawing.

There was something different in Kenndric's expression now.

The sarcasm was still there, but underneath it was something harder.

A warning.

I reluctantly sat down.

"Perfect."

He smiled.

"Now, you are not authorized to speak with the object."

He paused.

"You're not authorized to feed the object. All of that has already been taken care of."

"You merely sit here and observe."

He patted my shoulder.

"Good luck."

He started moving toward the door.

"Have fun."

The door closed behind him.

And just like that, I was alone with the "object of interest."

I sat there and watched her draw for hours.

Every now and then, she looked up at me.

Not casually.

She would stare at me for several seconds before lowering her head and returning to her drawings.

The room was so quiet I could hear the occasional scrape of crayon against paper.

By around five in the morning, exhaustion was starting to catch up with me.

My eyelids grew heavier.

I leaned back in the chair and told myself I'd close my eyes for a second.

Then—

THUD.

I jolted awake.

My heart was pounding.

The girl was standing directly in front of the glass.

She was holding a piece of paper against it.

A drawing.

Of me.

For a few seconds, I just stared.

She'd somehow captured details I'd never noticed about myself. The shape of my nose. My unshaven jaw. Even the dark circles beneath my eyes.

It wasn't a perfect likeness.

But it was close.

And, honestly, it was adorable.

I wanted to say something.

Then I remembered Kenndric's instructions.

I wasn't authorized to speak with the object.

I glanced toward the cameras mounted high in the corners of the room.

Then I remembered something else.

Nobody actually watched the feeds.

"That's very pretty," I said.

The girl's expression immediately brightened.

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

She placed her right hand against the glass.

For a moment, I hesitated.

Then I stood and pressed my own hand against the other side.

The glass was cold beneath my palm.

"I'm Lily."

I smiled.

"I'm Adam."

She giggled quietly.

"Adam was my first boyfriend's name."

"Oh."

"I didn't really like him, to be honest."

She shrugged.

"My dad pretty much forced that relationship on me."

She said it so matter-of-factly that I didn't know what to say.

Jesus.

What the hell had this girl been through?

"Lily..."

She looked at me.

"Why are you in here?"

Her smile faded.

For a few seconds, she said nothing.

"I'm not sure."

She glanced down at the floor.

"I think they're scared I might do something bad."

I looked around the room.

The reinforced glass.

The pylons.

The strange symbols.

The cameras.

The armed men outside.

"What the hell could this girl possibly do?"

I didn't ask.

Instead, I pulled the chair a little closer to the glass.

"So..."

She looked up.

"So?"

"If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?"

She thought about it.

"The ocean."

"The ocean?"

She nodded.

"What about you?"

"I don't know. Anywhere that isn't Most."

She laughed.

"Fair enough."

And that was how we started talking.

Nothing important at first.

Places we'd like to visit. Places we'd rather run away to. Things we'd do if we ever had enough money to stop worrying about everything else.

Lily wanted to see the ocean.

I'd never been particularly interested in beaches, but something about the way she talked about it made me want to see it too.

We talked about movies, music, stupid things we'd done when we were younger.

Eventually I told her about my unhealthy obsession with heist movies and prison breaks.

"Why prison breaks?" she asked.

"I don't know."

I thought about it.

"I guess I like watching people figure out how to set themselves free."

She looked at me for a moment.

"Maybe that's because you want to be set free too."

"Maybe."

She smiled.

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds.

Then she started asking me questions.

I gave her mostly half-assed answers.

She didn't seem bothered.

She didn't look at me the way most people did when I talked about my life. There was no disappointment in her expression. No judgment.

She just listened.

And somehow, that was enough.

The hours went by faster than I expected.

For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about how miserable my life had become.

Debt.

Or rent.

Or what I was going to do with myself.

I was just present.

Talking to a girl through a pane of glass.

When the shift finally ended, it caught me completely off guard.

The door opened.

One of the armed men stepped inside.

A knot immediately formed in my stomach.

For a second, I wondered if this was the moment they decided to shoot me for breaking the rules.

But the guard barely acknowledged me.

"Time to go."

That was it.

He turned toward the door.

I stood.

Lily was watching me through the glass.

"Thank you for talking to me."

Her voice was soft.

"No one else does."

There was something bittersweet about her smile.

"I'll..."

I looked at the armed man waiting for me.

"I'll see you again, alright?"

Lily smiled.

"Sooner than you think."

I didn't understand what she meant.

I just smiled back.

Then the guard escorted me out.

 

Despite being exhausted, I struggled to fall asleep when I got home.

I spent hours lying in bed, staring at the ceiling while the darkness of my apartment pressed down around me.

I kept thinking about Lily.

About the way she'd looked at me through the glass.

And about that stupid drawing she'd made of my face.

Most of all, I couldn't stop thinking about the question I hadn't been able to answer.

If Lily was dangerous enough to justify keeping her inside a glass box, why didn't they keep her in a proper cell?

And if she wasn't dangerous...

Why the fuck was she there?

 

Eventually, sometime toward morning, sleep finally found me.

It didn't come like a wave.

It came like a flood.

I found myself standing in absolute darkness.

Nothing but blackness stretching endlessly in every direction.

I tried to move.

I couldn't tell if I was actually walking or simply moving in place.

Then I smelled something.

The sea.

It was faint at first. Just a trace of salt and cold water carried through the darkness.

I turned toward it.

I don't know why.

I just knew I had to follow.

I started walking.

Then running.

The smell grew stronger with every step. A breeze brushed against my face.

Actual wind.

For the first time, I could hear something besides my own breathing.

Waves.

Far away at first.

Then closer.

A dim light appeared ahead of me.

I ran toward it.

The darkness began to recede.

Sand appeared beneath my feet.

Then water.

Then a pale sky.

A small beach surrounded by the dark.

And there she was.

Lily.

She stood at the edge of the water in a bright white dress, her hair moving gently in the sea breeze.

She turned toward me.

"Meet me On Distant Shores."

The darkness swallowed the light.

I woke with a gasp.

I sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard.

For several seconds, I had no idea where I was.

Then I looked around my dark apartment.

My heart was still racing.

I didn't understand the dream.

But one thought had already taken hold of me.

I needed to see her again.

I spent the entire day trying to distract myself.

Games.

Movies.

Walking aimlessly around the city.

None of it worked.

No matter what I did, my thoughts kept circling back to the girl in the glass box.

I hated the people who had put her there.

I hated myself even more for doing nothing about it.

But what could I realistically do?

I didn't know who my employers were. I didn't know who they answered to or what the facility actually was. All I knew was that they were powerful.

And they knew everything about me.

They knew where I lived.

They knew I was desperate for money.

And, apparently, they knew me well enough to assume I was a spineless coward.

Normally, they would've been right.

I'd spent years wasting away without caring enough about anything to fight for it.

But now I couldn't sit still.

I went to the gym that afternoon and spent almost an hour beating the shit out of a punching bag.

It didn't get rid of the anger.

By the time I left, my hands hurt, my shirt was soaked through, and I was still thinking about Lily.

Still...

For once, I felt alive.

I arrived at the factory almost two hours before my shift.

I didn't care about waiting.

I just needed to see her.

When they finally let me inside, I paid much more attention to my surroundings than I had the night before.

The facility was still bizarrely quiet.

There were only a handful of guards. They were spread throughout the building, and I rarely saw more than one at a time.

There were dozens of locked doors.

Yet the security seemed strangely simple.

One access card appeared to open most of them.

Nobody searched me.

Nobody even took my phone.

At the time, I simply assumed they were arrogant.

As we walked down the corridor, I saw Kenndric coming toward us.

The moment he spotted me, that fake smile appeared on his face.

He gave me a little wave.

I stared back.

He stopped at the security room, flashed his card, and disappeared inside.

A few seconds later, the door closed.

Then we reached the observation room.

The door opened.

The moment Lily saw me, her face lit up.

She ran toward the glass and pressed her hand against it.

I don't even remember deciding to move.

One second my hand was at my side.

The next, it was pressed against hers.

Her fingers lined up with mine on opposite sides of the glass.

"Hi," she said.

She smiled.

"You're back."

"I promised I would be."

"I know."

She looked genuinely happy to see me.

Then, almost casually, she said:

"I had a dream about you."

I froze.

"Really?"

She nodded.

I stared at her.

So did I.

Though I didnt tell her that.

"You really have to be bored to dream about me of all things." I said jokingly.

She laughed.

"Well, what should I dream about?"

"Being rich."

"Boring."

"Being famous."

"Even worse."

"Winning the lottery."

"That's not a dream. That's just being lazy."

We both laughed.

„What do you want to dream about?“ I asked.

"The ocean."

"I still want to see it."

"Then I'll have to show you."

The words came out before I could think about them.

Lily looked at me.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then she smiled.

"I'd like that."

We talked.

About everything.

And nothing.

I told her about the things I'd wanted to do before I'd stopped wanting anything at all.

She told me about some of the things she'd wanted.

Some were stupid.

Some were impossible.

Some were so ordinary that they almost hurt.

She wanted to see the ocean.

She wanted to travel.

She wanted to wake up one morning without somebody telling her what she was allowed to do.

And she wanted to know what it felt like to be somewhere nobody could find her.

I understood that last one.

Probably more than I should have.

The hours disappeared.

Eventually, I glanced toward one of the cameras mounted in the corner.

It was pointed directly at us.

I stared at it for a few seconds.

Fuck it.

I reached into my coat and pulled out my tablet.

Lily looked at me curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"It's not what I'm doing."

I held up the tablet.

"It's what we're doing."

She laughed.

"And what are we doing?"

"We're watching a movie."

Her eyes widened.

"Are we allowed to do that?"

I looked at the camera.

"I don't think anyone's watching."

I sat down in front of the glass and opened the tablet.

"Escape Plan. 2013."

She frowned.

"What's it about?"

"A guy who gets put in a prison specifically designed to be impossible to escape from."

Her smile slowly returned.

"That sounds appropriate."

For a few hours, that glass might as well not have existed.

Then the door opened.

The gunman had returned.

My stomach tightened.

"No."

I barely realized I'd said it.

He walked toward me.

"Time to go."

I stood.

Lily was already at the glass.

I didn't want to leave.

The guard grabbed my arm.

"Just a second."

He pulled harder.

I grabbed the edge of the chair with my free hand.

"Lily..."

The guard finally had to pull me away.

My fingers slipped from the chair.

I stumbled backward.

Lily pressed her hand against the glass.

"Meet me On Distant Shores," she said softly.

My eyes widened.

I wanted to promise I'd come back.

I wanted to tell her I'd get her out.

I wanted to say a hundred things.

Instead, I just nodded.

Then the door closed between us.

I didn't tell her about my dream.

She couldn't have known about it.

Right?

I went home.

And for once, going to sleep actually seemed desirable.

Maybe I'd see her again.

Maybe we'd meet somewhere she couldn't be trapped.

Somewhere she could actually be free.

When I finally fell asleep, I found myself in the darkness again.

But this time, the light was much closer.

I followed it.

The smell of the sea grew stronger with every step.

Then came the breeze.

I emerged onto the beach.

Lily was already waiting for me.

She stood barefoot at the shoreline, the hem of her white dress brushing against the wet sand.

She turned when she heard me.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I looked out across the water.

"It is."

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then the question I'd been trying not to ask escaped me.

"Is any of this real?"

Lily looked at me.

"Does it matter?"

She stepped closer.

"I'm here."

Another step.

"You're here."

She smiled.

"In here, we're free."

She turned toward the ocean.

"This is my little place."

"Dad claims every other one, but this one is mine."

"It could be yours too."

I stepped closer.

Then I took her face gently between my hands and kissed her.

She didn't pull away.

For a moment, everything was still.

"Can we stay here?"

I already knew the answer.

Lily's expression broke.

"I wish we could."

Tears began rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm still trapped."

She shook her head.

"I'm not strong enough."

Another tear slipped down her face.

"I'm not enough."

"No."

I pulled her closer.

"You are."

But the beach was already beginning to change.

The edges of the world blurred.

The horizon melted into the sky.

The sand beneath our feet began disappearing, as though the entire dream were being erased.

Lily started fading with it.

I held onto her.

"Don't."

She smiled through her tears.

It was the same bittersweet smile she'd given me behind the glass.

"I'll see you again On Distant Shores..."

Her voice became quieter.

"...but you already know that."

I woke up.

I sat upright in bed, gasping for air.

For several seconds, I couldn't move.

Then I felt it.

Something I hadn't felt in years.

Something hot and sharp burning inside my chest.

Purpose.

For the next two weeks, I prepared.

I photographed corridors, doors and rooms whenever I had the opportunity. I took pictures of the glass box and the four pylons surrounding it, zooming in on the strange symbols carved into their surfaces.

I didn't understand them.

Not yet.

But I saved every picture.

I watched the guards.

I learned their routines.

Who walked which corridor.

Which doors they used.

How long they disappeared for.

When they went to the bathroom.

There were five guards in total, usually spread throughout the facility so that I rarely saw more than one at a time.

I counted the steps between important rooms.

I memorized which doors took longer to unlock.

I learned how long it took the lights to activate when someone entered a corridor.

And I paid particular attention to the access cards.

The strangest part was how little anyone seemed to care about what I was doing.

I doubt they could ever see me as a threat.

Maybe they were right.

Two weeks earlier, I wouldn't have been.

I never told Lily what I was planning.

Not when I couldn't be certain who was actually paying attention.

I only ever told her when I saw her in my dreams.

And every time, I'd tell her the same thing.

"Soon."

I wasn't sure whether I was making a promise to her or to myself.

"Very soon."

Eventually, the day came.

I couldn't wait any longer.
Time to put the theory to the test.

 

Two weeks learning their routines.

Two weeks pretending I was exactly the pathetic little coward they thought I'd be.

Now I was going to find out if they had been right.

I sat in front of the glass and talked with Lily.

We laughed.

We talked about nothing.

For a while, I almost forgot what I was waiting for.

Then I saw the guard nearest to me leave his post.

Bathroom.

My heart started pounding.

I stood.

Lily noticed immediately.

"Adam?"

"I'll be right back."

I followed him.

He didn't notice me until we were inside the bathroom.

I waited.

Watched him step up to the urinal.

For one horrible second, I couldn't move.

I'd imagined this moment dozens of times.

None of those versions had prepared me for what it actually felt like.

The guard glanced over his shoulder.

"Buddy, would you mind—"

I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it against the wall.

THUD.

He dropped immediately.

His body hit the floor with a heavy, wet sound.

I stood there staring at him.

My hands were shaking.

There was blood on the wall.

His bladder had released, spreading piss across the tiles beneath him.

For a second, I wondered if I'd just killed him.

Then I remembered Lily.

I took his handgun.

And ran.

There was no going back now.

I sprinted toward the security room.

I reached the door and started pounding on it.

"Kenndrick!"

Nothing.

"Kenndrick, there's an immediate issue! I need your help!"

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, open the fucking door!"

The lock clicked.

Kenndrick opened it with an irritated expression.

"What is—"

I pulled out the gun and aimed it at his chest.

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely keep the barrel steady.

"Back up."

Kenndrick stared at me.

Then that familiar bravado returned.

"Just what do you think you're doing, kiddo?"

"I won't repeat myself."

For the first time, his smile faltered.

"Alright."

He raised his hands.

"Alright."

He slowly backed into the room.

"This is going to end badly for you, kid."

He smiled again.

"Very badly."

"Give me your card."

He paused.

"Now."

Kenndric reached slowly into his pocket and pulled out his security card.

He held it between two fingers.

Then smiled.

I snatched it from his hand.

"Turn around."

He did.

"Hands against the wall."

Kenndric placed his palms against it.

I backed toward the door.

"Say hi to her for me, kid."

I slammed the door shut.

Then swiped his card.

The lock engaged.

I ran.

I had only minutes before the guard rotation.

I reached the observation room and threw the door open.

Lily looked at me.

Her expression changed immediately.

"Adam?"

I was barely breathing.

"I'm getting you out of here."

I ran to the glass box.

She stood.

"Adam, what are you—"

I swiped Kenndric's card against the reader.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Nothing.

"Come on..."

A third time.

Nothing.

Then I heard clapping.

Slow.

Deliberate.

I froze.

"Bravo, kid."

I turned.

Kenndric was standing in the doorway.

He was smiling.

But this smile was different.

It was genuine.

"Bravo."

He stepped into the room.

"We had expectations."

He looked at me.

"We didn't pick you randomly, of course."

His eyes flicked toward Lily.

"But still..."

He smiled.

"You went above and beyond."

I raised the gun.

"Stay back."

Kenndric kept walking.

"Stay the fuck back!"

He didn't stop.

I tightened my grip.

hen pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing.

I pulled it again.

Click.

My stomach dropped.

Kenndric laughed.

"I'm afraid that one's not loaded."

He reached into his pocket.

"In fact..."

He pulled out another handgun.

"...none of them are."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Think about it."

He gestured around the room.

"The guards. The cameras. The unlocked opportunities. The conveniently predictable routines."

His smile widened.

My stomach turned.

Kenndric looked almost proud.

"Observation."

He gestured toward Lily.

"Not just hers."

He pointed at me.

"Yours too."

Lily had gone completely still.

Kenndric noticed.

"You know, capturing Lilith—the Queen of Hell—creates a lot of interesting research opportunities."

The name seemed to hit her harder than anything else he'd said.

She looked at him.

Kenndric smiled.

"Her charm is supposed to be nearly irresistible."

He looked back at me.

"So the suits upstairs had an idea."

He spread his hands.

"Find the right kind of sucker. Put him in front of her. See how long it takes before she manipulates him into trying to break her free."

„Did you seriously buy the whole „no one is watching the feeds“ thing in a building full of cameras everywhere?“

He shook his head.

"Seems we really did pick perfectly."

Then he looked me up and down.

"Although, I have to admit..."

A disappointed expression crossed his face.

"For someone who loves prison-break movies as much as you do, your plan was fucking basic."

He sighed.

"I expected better."

I looked at Lily.

She was staring at me now.

There was something in her expression I'd never seen before.

Fear.

Not for herself.

For me.

Kenndric sighed.

"Your services will no longer be necessary."

He tossed the security card onto the floor.

"You can go right back to your shitty little life."

He smiled.

"Keep the card as a souvenir. It's useless anyway."

I looked at him.

Then at Lily.

"No."

Kenndric's expression changed slightly.

"I'll tell everyone."

I pointed toward my phone.

"I have pictures. Videos. Everything."

I looked directly into his eyes.

"Everyone will know."

Kenndric's smile disappeared.

"Kid..."

He sounded almost disappointed.

"You really shouldn't have said that."

He raised the gun.

Two shots.

The first punched through my chest.

The second hit before I even had time to fall.

I collapsed onto the floor.

The pain came a second later.

Hot.

Blinding.

I tried to breathe.

All I tasted was blood.

"Adam!"

Lily screamed.

Kenndric looked down at me.

"Oops, seems my gun actually was loaded."

He shrugged.

"Sorry, kid."

Then he glanced toward Lily.

"Hmm."

His smile returned.

"Seems the demon bitch may have actually cared about you."

"How sweet."

I started laughing.

Blood filled my mouth.

I choked on it, coughing and laughing at the same time.

Kenndric frowned.

"What's so funny?"

He looked past me at the pylon behind me.

Blood was dripping from my chest onto its surface.

The symbols were glowing.

Kenndric followed my gaze.

His smile disappeared.

"What did you do?"

I smiled through the blood running down my chin.

"I translated the symbols."

The red light beneath them grew brighter.

"They were raised through blood sacrifice."

The pylons began to shake.

A low vibration filled the room.

Kenndric took a step backward.

I laughed again.

"And through blood sacrifice..."

Cracks spread across the pylon.

"...they shall be shattered."

Another pylon began to tremble.

Kenndric looked around the room.

"What have you done?"

I smiled.

"I never intended to make it out of here."

The first pylon cracked apart.

"You know everything about me."

Another crack.

The room shook.

"There wouldn't be any point in running."

The pylons began collapsing one after another.

Glass groaned.

Metal screamed.

Then everything went dark.

Completely dark.

Except for Lily's eyes.

They were glowing.

Kenndric stared at her.

His face went pale.

"No."

For the first time since I'd met him, there was no arrogance in his voice.

Only fear.

"No..."

He backed away.

"You have no idea what you've done."

Then anger replaced the fear.

"Why?"

I looked at him.

I smiled.

"The Devil made me do it."

I won't lie.

I was saving that one.

The glass box exploded.

Shards flew outward.

Kenndric raised his gun toward Lily.

He never got the chance to fire.

His body suddenly folded inward.

There was a wet, violent crack.

Then he imploded into a spray of blood and viscera.

I looked toward Lily.

She was standing in the middle of the shattered glass.

Free.

"How's that for an escape plan?"

I smiled.

And everything went black.

I found myself on the beach again.

This time, there was no darkness.

Just the ocean stretching beneath an endless sky.

Lily and I sat facing each other in the sand.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

She looked peaceful.

"It's done," I finally said.

"You are free."

I smiled.

"Go."

She frowned.

I looked toward the horizon.

"Be happy."

I stood.

"I'll see you again On Distant Shores."

She slapped me across the face.

I stared at her.

"Ouch."

She glared at me.

"What was that for?"

"One."

She held up a finger.

"That is my line."

She held up a second.

"Two."

She leaned closer.

"The Distant Shores can wait."

She smiled.

"I'm not letting you go."

Then she kissed me.

I kissed her back.

And for the first time in a while, I wasn't afraid of waking up.

 

I came to with a gasp.

My hand immediately went to my chest.

Nothing.

No wounds.

No blood.

I looked down at myself.

Then slowly stood.

I wasn't in the observation room.

I was standing on the roof of the factory.

The entire facility stretched out beneath me.

Smoke rose into the night sky.

Fires burned in the distance.

I could hear shouting somewhere far below.

Then came a horn.

A long, deep blast.

Another answered it.

Then something roared.

Another roar answered from somewhere beyond the factory.

Then another.

They were coming from everywhere.

I looked toward the horizon.

The city was burning.

I should have been terrified.

I wasnt.

Then I noticed Lily standing beside me.

She was looking out over the horizon.

For the first time since I'd met her, there was nothing between us.

No glass.

No walls.

No locked doors.

I looked back at the world on fire.

"So..."

I swallowed.

"What happens now?"

Lily looked at me.

She smiled.

Then reached for my hand.

I took it.

"Anything we want."

I was born special. I was born as one of the few green marked Hellzen on the planet; able to open a portal to anywhere in the known universe with a wave of our talons. I was loyal to my people: I served them in the military—I used my gifts for them whenever they asked. I did everything for them, all with a smile on my face because I believed in them. I knew about the assigned marriage program and what it entailed since I was 18.  The few handful of green marked born have to register for it at twenty-five. Or, at least I thought I knew. I just never expected it to be so bad.   

 ##### 

“Name?” The lady at the front desk asked me, her tone clipped and sharp.   

“Peril Ashira.”    

“Reason for being here?”   

“I-I’m registering for the green marked arranged marriage program.”   

She stopped typing and looked up at me, taking in my features; the obsidian black scales abruptly transitioning to a bright orange along the length of my lower jaw, and my backwards facing horns and the bright green scales that were intricately woven on them. The receptionist's eyes widened and a plume of flame shot from the end of her draconic snout. 

“Yes, ma’am, right away, so sorry.” She said hastily, bowing her head.   

I looked down at my feet and sighed. I didn’t want to do this. Not even remotely. I wanted to have a say in who I loved, not have it be picked for me. But it’s my duty to my people to do this. I just hope the guy they pair me with is nice.   

The lady at the desk stopped typing and grabbed a ticket off a small printer.  

“Right ma’am, sorry for the wait, take this ticket and head down the hall to room 63.”   

I took it from her claws and thanked her before heading down the hallway on my left.  

 

Room 63 was dark grey, and cold. Inside was an exam table and a small office chair. I entered slowly and sat down on the table, the paper rustling as I put my weight on it. I looked around the room, noting the various medical posters before landing on the one depicting our anatomy. It was a detailed diorama of a male in a t-pose. One half had skin the other was muscle with portions of it cut out to reveal organs, blood vessels, and bones. His snout was longer than mine, his horns were longer, and his tail thicker. The ridges that ran down the back of his head along his tail were bright orange, a trait we all shared. It was very reminiscent of the ancient dragons we shared a common ancestor with. 

 A few moments later a tall man entered the room and took a seat in front of me. He introduced himself as Mr. Hattalé. 

“Well miss Peril, I hear you are registering for the green marked arranged marriage program. Is that right?”   

“Y-Yes sir.” I said quietly. I didn’t know why they chose to call it a program. Programs were a set of things to do. Marriage was just one and done. 

“Very good, now I do have to ask some questions first before we get you registered.” 

I stayed silent, nodding for him to continue. 

“Great. How are your reproductive organs? Are they fully functional?”   

The question caught me slightly off guard and I stared at him dumbly for a second before responding, “Yes, they are. Why?”   

“Just some background information we need, it’s nothing too serious. Now, is there any damage to your genitals, visible or internal?”   

“No?” I replied. 

“I see. One last thing before we register you.” He said, rising out of the chair with a grunt. “I need to prescribe you a monthly pill. It is imperative that you continue to take it every thirty days after the first dose. It is essential to the success of this program.” He said sternly, looking me directly in the eye. 

“Ok, but what does it do?” I asked him. 

“Oh nothing major.” He said, his tone switching to something light and airy. “ Just adjusts your hormone levels slightly and regulates your emotions a bit. I’ll grab it from the pharmacy and you can take it when you get home.” 

“Alright then...” I said slowly, wondering if this was the same pill they made my mother take. “ Before you leave, do you know who he will be?” I asked him.   

“Pardon?”  

“The man I'm going to be marrying. Do you know who he will be.”  

“Oh, probably an officer of the imperial high court or some other high ranking military position, you know how it is. Anyway, you should receive a certificate notifying you of your marriage within the hour.”   

“That fast? I don’t get a week or two to get ready?” It felt like things were moving too fast. Surely I should have time to prepare for having my first husband, it’s not every day one gets married. 

“I’m afraid not, this program is designed to waste as little time as possible. Your genetic rarity is far too valuable to lose. We need to take every chance we can get to make sure there's more of your kind.” He gave me a look of something like pity and then left the room, his footsteps clacking down the tiled hall.   

I waited for a few minutes and eventually heard his footsteps from down the hall. He held an orange pill bottle in his hand. It was called Sardophiac. I couldn’t remember if this was the same one my mother took or not. I took the bottle from him and put it in my pocket before signing a few pieces of paper. When I had finished writing my last signature he collected the papers and left without saying another word. 

 I stood up and sighed, stretching out my arms. I took a last look around the room and then checked the time. It was 9:45 AM. Not wanting to stay in there any longer, I rolled my shoulders and summoned that familiar swirling sensation inside of me; the green scales on my horns glowing brightly. I place both of my hands in front of me, my palms open. I took a breath and summoned a glowing orange ring in front of me. It shimmered iridescently in the air. I stepped into it, and entered my apartment’s living room. 

 I was greeted by the familiar black granite walls and the white fur carpet of my home. I looked around making sure everything was in order before the guy I was supposed to be marrying arrived. I snapped my fingers and the portal vanished with a rush of air. I straightened up the coffee table and counter, making everything look nice and presentable. When I had finished, I walked over to my window with a glass of water and debated whether I should take the pill or not. I took one out and rolled it around in my palm, noting how it felt. If this program was essential to our species like they’d told me then I had to take it for our sake. All it did was regulate my hormones. 

 I brought it up to my mouth and hesitated before swallowing it with a glass of water.  

I finished my water and looked out at the sprawling, monolithic city below me. Tall spires of geometric black stone rise up into the deep orange atmosphere, and rivers of glowing amber metal snake their way through the city. And the dull roar of engines permeated throughout it all. 

A small sound chimes from my apartment's messaging system notifying me that someone is at my front door.  

 That was fast. I thought as I made my way over to the door and opened it. A tall man in an officer's uniform stood there in the hallway. His eyes were a darker shade of green than mine, and there were no green scales on his twisted orange horns. He held a piece of paper in his hands. I looked down and saw it was a marriage document. My signature was already on it next to his. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Ashira." He said, smiling. “My name is Aidan Brandt; I am your new husband.”   

His greeting was warm and his smile sincere. He reached out for my hand, and I let him take it.    

“You are quite beautiful.” He said, kissing it. I felt taken aback by his gesture.  

“O-Oh, thank you. Nice to meet you too.” I said quickly. Aidan let go of my hand and chuckled lightly, looking around the room.    
“Nice place, did you buy it yourself?” He asked me.   

“No, the government gave it to me about a year ago. I think they did it for this reason.”   

Aidan smiled at me again, flashing his teeth. “‘I’d imagine so, it's pretty neat.” He looked at me again; something dark flashed in his eyes. “Well, shall we get started?”   

I froze. “What do you mean should we get started?” I asked him.   

Aidan looked at me with a confused expression on his face. “Did they not tell you about this part?”   

“What part?” I said carefully, backing away from him. Aidan moved forward.   

“Did they give you the pill? Did you take it?”   

“Yes, why?”   

He stopped, a grin spreading across his snout. “Fantastic, I don’t have to do anything now, it's already begun.”   

“What has already begun—” I couldn't finish the sentence. A rush of heat spread its way throughout my body. Not a thermal surge, no. This was a different heat, one that made me feel flushed. My head started spinning and a sensation of total, all-encompassing bliss took hold of my mind. I felt myself drifting off somewhere unfamiliar and warm. The last thing I remembered was seeing Aidan's teeth inching towards my neck as he took a hold of my falling body.   

  

I awoke soaked in sweat and wrapped in blankets. The dark brown walls of my bedroom looked black in the dim lighting. The lamp I kept on the bedside table was knocked over and broken; glass shards littered the floor where it had fallen. My clothes were in a pile on the floor beside, the bed. My head was still fuzzy from the heat, and when I sat up, I felt a twinge of pain in my midsection. I reached a hand down between my legs and hesitantly brought it up. There was bright orange blood on it. I audibly gasped and threw my other hand around my mouth. I looked over to see Aidan lying next to me asleep. The realization of what happened struck me so suddenly that I almost went under again.   

What the fuck…? Oh God.. 

The realization of what had transpired struck so suddenly that the rest of the room was drowned out by a dull hum in my ears. I couldn’t focus on that at the moment. I had to get away from him and get help. I tried to get up but my body wouldn't move. I had to escape, to flee from this man who’d assaulted me. But I couldn’t. My legs simply wouldn’t comply, despite the furious signals my brain sent them. I looked over at Aidan again; he was stirring awake, his eyelids fluttering open groggily in the dim lighting. Fear flooded through my veins as I tried desperately to put any amount of distance between us, scrambling back against the bedboard with my arms.    

Aidan watched my attempt to get away amusedly. 

“Morning, lovely.” He said, grinning.    

I looked at him in horror as he moved towards me, grinning from ear to ear.   

“S-Stay away, please!” I cried, putting my arms in front of me. He pushed them aside with ease and forced me down against the mattress. I tried to yell at him to stop, but something inside of me prevented it. My body seemed to want this even though my mind didn’t. I felt myself submitting to his touch as he forced himself on me, that sensation of pure bliss enveloping my mind once again.   

No! No, stop please! Body, please listen! I don’t want to do this!   

But I did. Or the pill made me think I did. I felt my head grow hot and my ability to think fade away as the heat inside my body consumed me.   

  

I awoke on the couch in the living room this time, sweatier and more exhausted. There were dark stains on the carpet and walls, and the couch had long gouges ripped into it. One of the chandeliers had blackened and was swaying slightly, casting moving shadows across the room. I stood up on shaky legs and winced almost immediately. I craned my head to peer at my back and saw long deep claw marks in my scales. I gritted my teeth against the pain and made my way to the shower. Aidan was nowhere to be found. His clothes were still crumpled on the living room floor from earlier, the uniform that supposedly symbolized virtue, tangled and forgotten.  

I entered the bathroom silently and turned on the shower, feeling myself relax slightly at the water's warmth. The walls were the usual brownish-orange I was accustomed to, the sliding glass door making a slight squeaking sound as I slid it closed. The steam condensed on the glass. I washed inside and out, feeling tears running down my face as I cleaned out the mess he had made. Inhaling sharply when the water hit the raw skin. 

Asshole, I thought to myself, my sadness quickly turning into anger. I decided I was going to call the police the moment I got out of the shower. I finished washing and stepped out, the water dripping onto the marble floor with quiet splashes. I grabbed my towel and dried myself off, wincing as it touched my thigh.   

Again, the rage at what he did built up inside of me and threatened to spill over. I had to stay calm; otherwise I’d burn down my apartment. I took a few deep breaths and then walked out of the bathroom, grabbing my phone off the kitchen counter and dialing the emergency number.    

“Hello Ms. Ashira.”   

I realized immediately that this wasn’t the police. 

“Hello?” I said cautiously.   

“Good evening Ms. Ashira. We know why you called emergency services, and are here to inform you that your reason does not solicit a response from the authorities.” 

“Why the fuck not! He fucking raped me twice! What the fuck do you mean it won’t solicit the response I want!”   

“Ah, but Mrs. Aishara, that isn’t rape. Not really. You already know how rare you are. Your genes are the most valuable resource one can have. And to create more of your kind, we have to spread your genes along. And the only way of doing that is, ah, well you already know. Now I can fully understand your anger at not being told the full details of  this program, and we apologize for that, but you will remain married to Aidan Brandt and will continue your duty of giving birth to a greenmarked child. We ask that you not try to contact the authorities on this matter again. 

The phone clicked as he hung up, leaving me alone. I felt betrayed. I thought the government was supposed to protect the people, not imprison them. 

“What the fuck! I cried, crushing the phone in my hand and throwing it at the wall.” How dare they! Did they not consider my feelings as a person at all? Were they that desperate to have more green- marked Hellzen that they were willing to subject me to forced rape? I growled and stormed into my bedroom, ignoring the wet stains on the mattress and floor. I put on the last of the clean clothes I had and was about to open a portal when Aidan’s voice made me freeze.   

“Going somewhere?” He said mockingly, walking up and grabbing my arms in his talons and forcing them down. I felt myself weaken, like all my strength was being drained out of me simply because of his touch. 

“We are not done; we still have our assignment to do. Just because you won't willingly do your part doesn’t mean I have to stop doing mine.” He growled, thrusting his snout in my face. 

“I choose what happens to my body, not the government nor anyone else!” I cried, attempting to break his grip.  

Aidan didn’t react to my attempt. Instead forcing both of my arms behind my head in his left hand. “No, actually, you don’t.” He said, grinning darkly, forcing me against the wall by my neck. “Your body belongs to the people. Your entire existence is to serve under our command. You are nothing but a tool for our conquest.” 

I couldn’t breathe. My vision darkened as I fought against his grip, but my strength was gone. The pill had stripped away my ability to choose what happened to me. I felt that sense of bliss building in the back of my head, but I ignored it, choosing to stay in charge of my mind. I watched from somewhere distant as he tore away the clothes I had just put on. I watched as my body moved without my input, wrapping him in a tight embrace. I couldn’t control what I was doing, but I still felt everything. Every ounce of pain he inflicted on me, every sensation. Good and bad. It was a torture unlike any other I had experienced. It felt like years, but it was only an hour. I was aware of myself slowly moving back into my body; I could move my fingers just barely. I could blink, and after a while I found I could move my limbs. I struggled to push Aidan’s body off me; he was so damn heavy. I pushed myself off the ground and onto my shaking legs, doubling over from the pain. He was so rough with it. It hurt so badly that I could hardly walk myself to the bathroom and throw up.  

I learned not to speak back to him after that first day. I realized that it was better to submit than to fight back. He was more gentle than when I didn't try to resist. It hurt less.  

After that first week I had retreated into the recesses of my mind, surrounding myself in that terrible bliss the pill provided. I think that was the intent. I think they made it so those of us who took it would be locked away from our body; unable to choose what happens to us. I was only able to see what went on in the world through snapshots, never fully aware of what I was doing or what was happening to me. I would hear a sound, or feel something brush against my scales, but it was only ever a feeling. Never anything profound. Though I would get a rare moment of lucidity once in a while.   

I remember one time it happened. I was watching a slideshow of my morning through a thick fog. I had just finished watching myself brush my teeth when I felt a sensation of speeding up. I watched my body move faster and faster, and I felt myself being pulled away from the safety of my mind. My eyes snapped open and I found myself sitting at my desk doing paperwork. I was at the military headquarters in Jagerdale. I dropped the pen in my talons and looked at them numbly, too shocked to realize I was in control of myself. My first thoughts were blurry as I tried to make sense of where I was. I recognized my office, the grey metal desk I was sitting at, the old bookshelf with a framed photo of my first promotion, how happy I looked back then. It was all so surreal. I remained lucid throughout the day, taking a taxi back to my apartment as I couldn’t use my portals. 

I got to the front door and hesitated before opening it. Aidan was standing there in the living room, a dark look on his face. Someway, somehow, he knew I was lucid. 

“It’s been a month already and you’re still not pregnant. Why?” he growled, striding towards me. I backed away from him, but my back hit the door. I fumbled with the handle, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from it. I cried out and fell to the floor, feeling the soft carpet on my face. “This program is of the utmost importance to our species; you need to step up and do your part.”  

“Why? Why can’t I just leave!” 

Aidan was silent for a moment. An expression of deep brooding painted on his face. 

“Because you're special!” he hissed, sinking his claws into my arm. 

I felt his hands wrap around my throat and pull me upwards towards his face. His eyes were full of a dark craving. I felt the world slow down, and then speed up as I allowed myself to be pulled back into that quiet, peaceful, corner of my mind. I lost all sensation of my body and what was going on. I didn’t want to remain in control ever again if this was how my life was to go. I didn’t want to live anymore either; I just wanted it all to stop. I just wanted to think of myself as important, not useful.  

In the time I spent away from consciousness I can remember viewing my early life through a kind of screen, able to see but unable to interact. I reflected on how similar I am to my mother. She had green scales on her horns. She was also distant, like she wasn’t the one in the driver's seat. She’d walk around the house with a blank look on her face, only responding to things when her name was called. I don’t know why I never found this odd. I guess I just figured that was how mothers were. Cold and distant. Every time me or my countless other siblings would try to tell her something she’d just stare into the distance and give a sort of half nod. I don’t think she was even aware of what we were saying. Just responding to the stimuli. They were rare moments when she was lucid though. I was fearful of her when she was.  

I remember how she’d react to seeing me. And it was only me, never my siblings. She’d shower them with love and warmth, tears lining her eyes as she hugged them tightly. But whenever she saw me she’d freeze and her breathing would stop entirely. She would look at my horns and the realization of what my future was going to be like would hit her like a ton of bricks. She would cry and cry, not stopping until my father intervened. Then she’d scream. She would back away from him in a panic and beg him not to hurt her. I was never aware of why she would say those things. Father was never violent or abusive. All he would do was tell her it was all going to be okay and then he’d open her mouth and give her a pill, and then she’d calm down and go back to that expressionless version again. I only know why she was afraid of him after going through the same things she did. I know why she was afraid of that pill. It strips you of all you are and takes away the very ability to say no. It uses your body against you, weaponizing your hormones to make you subservient and submissive, taking away your ability to make portals and sapping your strength. It reduces you to something they can shape to fit their needs. 

The worst part about the pill effect is waking up. That overwhelming realization that time has passed without you being aware of it destroys you.  

It had taken close to a year before I became lucid again. All I remembered before the pill took a hold of my mind was the white of Aidan's teeth glinting in the dull light of the living room. 

##### 

I awoke with a start, smacking the back of my head painfully against the wall. I rubbed my head and looked around, wincing. It was hard to see anything through the gloom and I struggled to find the on switch to my bedside lamp. I switched it on and took a look around the bedroom. Something was different. The previously umber wallpaper was now a dreary shade of grey. The bed sheets were also different, silkier, and of a much higher quality than I last remembered. The chair I used to keep in the corner of the room was gone, replaced with a statue of a tall and imposing male Hellzen, metallic and swathed in shadow.  

I sat up and immediately realized something was wrong. I felt heavier. I looked down and nearly choked. I was pregnant. My stomach was distended heavily, and the scales were stretched thin across the eggs inside.  

“No...” I whispered hoarsely. “No god...no please no.....” I cried quietly, reaching out as if to touch it but pulling back sharply. I brought my hands up to my face and stared at them open mouthed, my lower lip quivering. These couldn’t be my hands; this couldn’t be my body. How long had I been gone? I leaned over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand, fumbling to turn it on. I looked at the date and dropped my phone onto the floor. It was October 4^th. Eight months had passed since Aidan cornered me in the living room. I grabbed my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. There was no way this happening! This couldn’t be real; it couldn’t! 

I looked over my shoulder and saw the soft rise and fall of Aidan's chest as he slept. There was nothing inherently sinister about this, yet I found myself backing away from him. I got out of bed slowly, not used to the extra weight of my midsection, and forced down the advancing waves of nausea that were working their way up my throat. Holding myself in my arms, I stared at the dark walls, bleary eyed and crying. What happened to me? I used to be powerful. I had politicians and military leaders fawning over me and showering me with praise. But they weren’t doing it for who I was; they were doing it because they needed what I had. They wanted more of us. More green marked Hellzen for the war effort against Aerou and Fyura.  

I stared hard at the floor, wrapping my tail against the inside of my leg. Why had I done this to myself? Why had I so blatantly trusted them when the truth of this program was right in front of me my entire life. I was naive. I ignored every red flag, every cause for alarm, and for what reason? Because they showered me with praise I never received as a child. I had let myself become a slave to someone else’s desires and lost who I really was. I hated myself more than Aidan or the government. Sure, they were the root cause, but it was my blind faith in them that led me down this path. I despised what I had become. 

I wiped away my tears and left the confines of the bedroom. I wanted to be by myself for a while, so I went to take a shower. Craving the comfort of the water against my scales and the sensation of being clean. The bathroom floor was cold against my feet, and I quickly turned on the shower. I stepped in and shivered at the water's warmth against my back. I turned my gaze towards the ceiling and just stared for a while, lost in thought.  

I wondered what I would name them, or if Aidan would even let me name them. I wasn’t privy to the full scope of this cursed program I was in. Whether I was allowed to name my kids or not I didn’t know. I never knew how I got my name. I figured they were keeping me as a slave in the hopes that I bore green marked offspring, specifically ones that are female. We're the only ones who can pass along the gene that gives us our abilities. I envy the males; they lead a life of military leadership while us women are utilized as factories to produce more.  

 I felt a cold tingle run down my back as my thoughts led me to wonder about what Aidan would do if none of them had a green mark. How soon would the cycle of abuse start again? How many times would it take for me to become pregnant? How forceful would he be? It hurt just thinking about it. 

 I wiped away more tears as I ruminated on what would happen if one of them was green marked. How could I stand watching her grow up only to end up in this program? My own early life was lonely and heavily monitored. I closed my eyes, thinking back once again to my childhood. The hospital trips, the tests, the live portal demonstrations in front of hundreds of important leaders and businessmen in circular, concrete rooms hundreds of feet underground. The cold air and blank faces of the guests watching me summon a portal at seven years old. The quiet smattering of applause from men and women shrouded in darkness. My mother's tears whenever she saw me, at least when she was in charge of her head. She wasn’t there most of the time. I realize now—I’m not either. 

 I pulled myself close. I didn’t want to take the pill anymore and live in its terrible bliss like my mother did. The mere thought of going under again caused my chest to tighten. I exhaled a shaky breath. I needed to be there for my children, to be present in their lives and wrap them in my arms whenever I wanted to, not just when the pill let me. I had to be a good parent who could play with them and love them. Not just be a person they called mom. I wanted to be the mother they could love. 

I sighed at the torrent of thoughts swirling through my head. None of it mattered now; I should just focus on remaining present, as much as it hurt to do so. I stayed in the shower for a while, just thinking. It was nice; the water’s touch wasn’t malicious like Aidan’s. No sensation of cold talons trailing across my scales, no warm breathing on my neck, no teeth biting into my shoulder.  I had taken it for granted my whole life. I turned off the water and flared up my temperature to dry off. I walked back into my room; hesitating before crawling back under the covers and flinching as he wrapped his arm around me. I lay there on the cold mattress under sheets of fine silk just staring at the wall. There were no tears this time. They had run dry. 

I wondered If I could trick my way out of having to take the pill. If I just do whatever Aidan and the government wants when they want, perhaps they’ll let me remain in control of my actions. Maybe then I can give my children the life I never had, at least part of it. I can’t speak for Aidan on how good a father he’d make. I imagine he’d be pretty distant and cold. Viewing our kids as nothing more than a statistic in his career. The thought was nice, but they’d never let it happen. Our life spans are nearly 200 years. The potential to have me deliver even just a few green-marked was too valuable to lose. 

 I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I awoke to watery shafts of sunlight streaming through the smoky grey curtains. It had been so long since I’d remembered feelinf the sun, and I reveled in its warmth against my scales, soaking in its rays greedily. 

I got up and made my way over to the dresser to put on my clothes. We must’ve gone shopping at some point, as I didn’t recognize the clothes in my closet anymore. It was all formal wear. I guessed Aidan was a stickler for uniforms even if I couldn’t actually wear one myself. When I finished dressing, I decided to look at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognize what stared back. My eyes had deep bags under them, and my face was lined with creases and countless marks. I stared at my reflection in shame, looking up and down. I had been beautiful before. I turned my head away before the thoughts looming at the back of my mind became too much to handle.   

##### 

I gave birth about a month later. It was painful, and I was alone. Aidan wasn’t there and I was glad. But I felt a twinge of disappointment that there wasn’t a father to witness this. The eggs were a deep black, like obsidian, just see translucent enough to make out their genders. I already decided I’d name the first girl Asha and the second girl Lilith. Aidan wanted the boy named after him, and I didn’t want to fight him on it.   

The first cracks appeared this morning; the largest egg was rocking slightly. My eyes darted from egg to egg, never staying on one for longer than a second. My jaw clenched tight as I paced back and forth in front of the clutch. I had locked the door to the room where I kept them. Aidan couldn’t care less about the hatching; he only wanted to see the results and so agreed to give me the sole duty of watching them hatch.  

What if something goes wrong? What if one of them is too weak to survive or—or cuts itself on the eggshell? What if one of them is green marked?  

I continued my relentless pacing, biting my nails as I watched in trepidation. 

Seconds later the first one hatched; she was normal, no green scales. I couldn’t be happier.  

“Welcome to the world little Asha.” I said, picking up her small form. She made a light squeaking noise as I set her down on the blanket next to me. The next egg cracked open, and an orange and black snout poked out from the eggshell. I cleared the rest of the shell away and felt my heart skip a beat. Green. I saw green in that egg. My hands shook so badly I couldn’t clear away the rest of the eggshell. I had to sit back on my feet and watch in painstaking slowness as the small head poked through the black eggshell. Her horns had small green scales wrapped around them like vines. Just as mine did. My heart stopped, and I froze.  

No. Oh god no, no no no no no no no no no. Why? Why did she have to have green scales? Why couldn’t she just be normal? I don’t—I can’t let her go through this. I-I can’t! I can’t let my daughter suffer like I have! I can’t! Oh god! Oh god why? Why did you have to do this to her God! WHY!  

I looked down into her innocent eyes. Lilith. I felt the warmth of her scales pressing against mine. The trust, and love in her large purple eyes. In that moment I knew I couldn’t let her experience the horror of this program; it would destroy me to see her corrupted this way. I stared at her, desperation overwhelming my senses.   

Wake up! Wake up, you’re just dreaming again! T-This isn’t real! You're not in control of your body! That's what this is! It has to be! Peril, you’re just dreaming in the bliss again! Just wake up and it’ll all be over...  

I wasn't dreaming, though. I think I knew that deep down. But I still tried to pretend I was, if only to make my next actions easier.  

“Peril, have they hatched yet? Are any of them green marked?” Aidan’s voice. He was knocking on the door. I couldn’t let him know. He would take her—them away from me. I chose not to answer him. I couldn’t let him see what I was about to do. Every instinct I had screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. I had to save her from this future. I wouldn’t let her be a tool for the government to make more of us. I felt my temperature flare up, the sweat on my skin boiling off me in an instant. The curtains on the windows started smoking, and the wallpaper began to curl and brown. 

 Aidan must’ve seen the flickering orange light spilling out from beneath the doorway, for he began pounding on it, demanding to be let in.  

“Peril? Peril what the fuck is going on!” He yelled, pulling on the doorknob and slamming his hand against the door.  

I ignored him, tears streaming down my face as I continuously raised my temperature. The curtains were in flames and the walls had started smoking. I could faintly hear the cries of protests from babies but I pushed it. I had to save them, had to save her.  

“Peril open this fucking door now!” Aidan was roaring in fury, slamming the door hard enough to crack it. “Let me in dammit!”  

I kept going, nearing my apex. The entire room was in flames now, and the cries of my babies had reduced to whimpers.  

“I’M SORRY!” I cried, sobbing on my knees as their bodies bent inwards, blackening from the heat. “I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!”  

Aidan slammed himself into the door one last time, breaking it down and stumbling into the room.  

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE—”  

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In that instant I reached the flash point and released all the heat that was building up inside of me at once in a wail of pure agony and despair. The wall of flames eviscerated everything, reducing my entire apartment to molten slag in an orange inferno of grief. I did the worst thing a mother could do to her children. I had killed them all. Aidan and my newborns, nothing remained of their bodies save for the charred bones that surround me. I sat there in the wreckage for some time. Just holding the ashy remains of my kids and sobbing. Calling out their names over and over again. 

are stories that deal with assault allowed to be suggest for narration?

I was born special. I was born as one of the few green marked Hellzen on the planet; able to open a portal to anywhere in the known universe with a wave of our talons. I was loyal to my people: I served them in the military—I used my gifts for them whenever they asked. I did everything for them, all with a smile on my face because I believed in them. I knew about the assigned marriage program and what it entailed since I was 18.  The few handful of green marked born have to register for it at twenty-five. Or, at least I thought I knew. I just never expected it to be so bad.   

 ##### 

“Name?” The lady at the front desk asked me, her tone clipped and sharp.   

“Peril Ashira.”    

“Reason for being here?”   

“I-I’m registering for the green marked arranged marriage program.”   

She stopped typing and looked up at me, taking in my features; the obsidian black scales abruptly transitioning to a bright orange along the length of my lower jaw, and my backwards facing horns and the bright green scales that were intricately woven on them. The receptionist's eyes widened and a plume of flame shot from the end of her draconic snout. 

“Yes, ma’am, right away, so sorry.” She said hastily, bowing her head.   

I looked down at my feet and sighed. I didn’t want to do this. Not even remotely. I wanted to have a say in who I loved, not have it be picked for me. But it’s my duty to my people to do this. I just hope the guy they pair me with is nice.   

The lady at the desk stopped typing and grabbed a ticket off a small printer.  

“Right ma’am, sorry for the wait, take this ticket and head down the hall to room 63.”   

I took it from her claws and thanked her before heading down the hallway on my left.  

 

Room 63 was dark grey, and cold. Inside was an exam table and a small office chair. I entered slowly and sat down on the table, the paper rustling as I put my weight on it. I looked around the room, noting the various medical posters before landing on the one depicting our anatomy. It was a detailed diorama of a male in a t-pose. One half had skin the other was muscle with portions of it cut out to reveal organs, blood vessels, and bones. His snout was longer than mine, his horns were longer, and his tail thicker. The ridges that ran down the back of his head along his tail were bright orange, a trait we all shared. It was very reminiscent of the ancient dragons we shared a common ancestor with. 

 A few moments later a tall man entered the room and took a seat in front of me. He introduced himself as Mr. Hattalé. 

“Well miss Peril, I hear you are registering for the green marked arranged marriage program. Is that right?”   

“Y-Yes sir.” I said quietly. I didn’t know why they chose to call it a program. Programs were a set of things to do. Marriage was just one and done. 

“Very good, now I do have to ask some questions first before we get you registered.” 

I stayed silent, nodding for him to continue. 

“Great. How are your reproductive organs? Are they fully functional?”   

The question caught me slightly off guard and I stared at him dumbly for a second before responding, “Yes, they are. Why?”   

“Just some background information we need, it’s nothing too serious. Now, is there any damage to your genitals, visible or internal?”   

“No?” I replied. 

“I see. One last thing before we register you.” He said, rising out of the chair with a grunt. “I need to prescribe you a monthly pill. It is imperative that you continue to take it every thirty days after the first dose. It is essential to the success of this program.” He said sternly, looking me directly in the eye. 

“Ok, but what does it do?” I asked him. 

“Oh nothing major.” He said, his tone switching to something light and airy. “ Just adjusts your hormone levels slightly and regulates your emotions a bit. I’ll grab it from the pharmacy and you can take it when you get home.” 

“Alright then...” I said slowly, wondering if this was the same pill they made my mother take. “ Before you leave, do you know who he will be?” I asked him.   

“Pardon?”  

“The man I'm going to be marrying. Do you know who he will be.”  

“Oh, probably an officer of the imperial high court or some other high ranking military position, you know how it is. Anyway, you should receive a certificate notifying you of your marriage within the hour.”   

“That fast? I don’t get a week or two to get ready?” It felt like things were moving too fast. Surely I should have time to prepare for having my first husband, it’s not every day one gets married. 

“I’m afraid not, this program is designed to waste as little time as possible. Your genetic rarity is far too valuable to lose. We need to take every chance we can get to make sure there's more of your kind.” He gave me a look of something like pity and then left the room, his footsteps clacking down the tiled hall.   

I waited for a few minutes and eventually heard his footsteps from down the hall. He held an orange pill bottle in his hand. It was called Sardophiac. I couldn’t remember if this was the same one my mother took or not. I took the bottle from him and put it in my pocket before signing a few pieces of paper. When I had finished writing my last signature he collected the papers and left without saying another word. 

 I stood up and sighed, stretching out my arms. I took a last look around the room and then checked the time. It was 9:45 AM. Not wanting to stay in there any longer, I rolled my shoulders and summoned that familiar swirling sensation inside of me; the green scales on my horns glowing brightly. I place both of my hands in front of me, my palms open. I took a breath and summoned a glowing orange ring in front of me. It shimmered iridescently in the air. I stepped into it, and entered my apartment’s living room. 

 I was greeted by the familiar black granite walls and the white fur carpet of my home. I looked around making sure everything was in order before the guy I was supposed to be marrying arrived. I snapped my fingers and the portal vanished with a rush of air. I straightened up the coffee table and counter, making everything look nice and presentable. When I had finished, I walked over to my window with a glass of water and debated whether I should take the pill or not. I took one out and rolled it around in my palm, noting how it felt. If this program was essential to our species like they’d told me then I had to take it for our sake. All it did was regulate my hormones. 

 I brought it up to my mouth and hesitated before swallowing it with a glass of water.  

I finished my water and looked out at the sprawling, monolithic city below me. Tall spires of geometric black stone rise up into the deep orange atmosphere, and rivers of glowing amber metal snake their way through the city. And the dull roar of engines permeated throughout it all. 

A small sound chimes from my apartment's messaging system notifying me that someone is at my front door.  

 That was fast. I thought as I made my way over to the door and opened it. A tall man in an officer's uniform stood there in the hallway. His eyes were a darker shade of green than mine, and there were no green scales on his twisted orange horns. He held a piece of paper in his hands. I looked down and saw it was a marriage document. My signature was already on it next to his. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Ashira." He said, smiling. “My name is Aidan Brandt; I am your new husband.”   

His greeting was warm and his smile sincere. He reached out for my hand, and I let him take it.    

“You are quite beautiful.” He said, kissing it. I felt taken aback by his gesture.  

“O-Oh, thank you. Nice to meet you too.” I said quickly. Aidan let go of my hand and chuckled lightly, looking around the room.    
“Nice place, did you buy it yourself?” He asked me.   

“No, the government gave it to me about a year ago. I think they did it for this reason.”   

Aidan smiled at me again, flashing his teeth. “‘I’d imagine so, it's pretty neat.” He looked at me again; something dark flashed in his eyes. “Well, shall we get started?”   

I froze. “What do you mean should we get started?” I asked him.   

Aidan looked at me with a confused expression on his face. “Did they not tell you about this part?”   

“What part?” I said carefully, backing away from him. Aidan moved forward.   

“Did they give you the pill? Did you take it?”   

“Yes, why?”   

He stopped, a grin spreading across his snout. “Fantastic, I don’t have to do anything now, it's already begun.”   

“What has already begun—” I couldn't finish the sentence. A rush of heat spread its way throughout my body. Not a thermal surge, no. This was a different heat, one that made me feel flushed. My head started spinning and a sensation of total, all-encompassing bliss took hold of my mind. I felt myself drifting off somewhere unfamiliar and warm. The last thing I remembered was seeing Aidan's teeth inching towards my neck as he took a hold of my falling body.   

  

I awoke soaked in sweat and wrapped in blankets. The dark brown walls of my bedroom looked black in the dim lighting. The lamp I kept on the bedside table was knocked over and broken; glass shards littered the floor where it had fallen. My clothes were in a pile on the floor beside, the bed. My head was still fuzzy from the heat, and when I sat up, I felt a twinge of pain in my midsection. I reached a hand down between my legs and hesitantly brought it up. There was bright orange blood on it. I audibly gasped and threw my other hand around my mouth. I looked over to see Aidan lying next to me asleep. The realization of what happened struck me so suddenly that I almost went under again.   

What the fuck…? Oh God.. 

The realization of what had transpired struck so suddenly that the rest of the room was drowned out by a dull hum in my ears. I couldn’t focus on that at the moment. I had to get away from him and get help. I tried to get up but my body wouldn't move. I had to escape, to flee from this man who’d assaulted me. But I couldn’t. My legs simply wouldn’t comply, despite the furious signals my brain sent them. I looked over at Aidan again; he was stirring awake, his eyelids fluttering open groggily in the dim lighting. Fear flooded through my veins as I tried desperately to put any amount of distance between us, scrambling back against the bedboard with my arms.    

Aidan watched my attempt to get away amusedly. 

“Morning, lovely.” He said, grinning.    

I looked at him in horror as he moved towards me, grinning from ear to ear.   

“S-Stay away, please!” I cried, putting my arms in front of me. He pushed them aside with ease and forced me down against the mattress. I tried to yell at him to stop, but something inside of me prevented it. My body seemed to want this even though my mind didn’t. I felt myself submitting to his touch as he forced himself on me, that sensation of pure bliss enveloping my mind once again.   

No! No, stop please! Body, please listen! I don’t want to do this!   

But I did. Or the pill made me think I did. I felt my head grow hot and my ability to think fade away as the heat inside my body consumed me.   

  

I awoke on the couch in the living room this time, sweatier and more exhausted. There were dark stains on the carpet and walls, and the couch had long gouges ripped into it. One of the chandeliers had blackened and was swaying slightly, casting moving shadows across the room. I stood up on shaky legs and winced almost immediately. I craned my head to peer at my back and saw long deep claw marks in my scales. I gritted my teeth against the pain and made my way to the shower. Aidan was nowhere to be found. His clothes were still crumpled on the living room floor from earlier, the uniform that supposedly symbolized virtue, tangled and forgotten.  

I entered the bathroom silently and turned on the shower, feeling myself relax slightly at the water's warmth. The walls were the usual brownish-orange I was accustomed to, the sliding glass door making a slight squeaking sound as I slid it closed. The steam condensed on the glass. I washed inside and out, feeling tears running down my face as I cleaned out the mess he had made. Inhaling sharply when the water hit the raw skin. 

Asshole, I thought to myself, my sadness quickly turning into anger. I decided I was going to call the police the moment I got out of the shower. I finished washing and stepped out, the water dripping onto the marble floor with quiet splashes. I grabbed my towel and dried myself off, wincing as it touched my thigh.   

Again, the rage at what he did built up inside of me and threatened to spill over. I had to stay calm; otherwise I’d burn down my apartment. I took a few deep breaths and then walked out of the bathroom, grabbing my phone off the kitchen counter and dialing the emergency number.    

“Hello Ms. Ashira.”   

I realized immediately that this wasn’t the police. 

“Hello?” I said cautiously.   

“Good evening Ms. Ashira. We know why you called emergency services, and are here to inform you that your reason does not solicit a response from the authorities.” 

“Why the fuck not! He fucking raped me twice! What the fuck do you mean it won’t solicit the response I want!”   

“Ah, but Mrs. Aishara, that isn’t rape. Not really. You already know how rare you are. Your genes are the most valuable resource one can have. And to create more of your kind, we have to spread your genes along. And the only way of doing that is, ah, well you already know. Now I can fully understand your anger at not being told the full details of  this program, and we apologize for that, but you will remain married to Aidan Brandt and will continue your duty of giving birth to a greenmarked child. We ask that you not try to contact the authorities on this matter again. 

The phone clicked as he hung up, leaving me alone. I felt betrayed. I thought the government was supposed to protect the people, not imprison them. 

“What the fuck! I cried, crushing the phone in my hand and throwing it at the wall.” How dare they! Did they not consider my feelings as a person at all? Were they that desperate to have more green- marked Hellzen that they were willing to subject me to forced rape? I growled and stormed into my bedroom, ignoring the wet stains on the mattress and floor. I put on the last of the clean clothes I had and was about to open a portal when Aidan’s voice made me freeze.   

“Going somewhere?” He said mockingly, walking up and grabbing my arms in his talons and forcing them down. I felt myself weaken, like all my strength was being drained out of me simply because of his touch. 

“We are not done; we still have our assignment to do. Just because you won't willingly do your part doesn’t mean I have to stop doing mine.” He growled, thrusting his snout in my face. 

“I choose what happens to my body, not the government nor anyone else!” I cried, attempting to break his grip.  

Aidan didn’t react to my attempt. Instead forcing both of my arms behind my head in his left hand. “No, actually, you don’t.” He said, grinning darkly, forcing me against the wall by my neck. “Your body belongs to the people. Your entire existence is to serve under our command. You are nothing but a tool for our conquest.” 

I couldn’t breathe. My vision darkened as I fought against his grip, but my strength was gone. The pill had stripped away my ability to choose what happened to me. I felt that sense of bliss building in the back of my head, but I ignored it, choosing to stay in charge of my mind. I watched from somewhere distant as he tore away the clothes I had just put on. I watched as my body moved without my input, wrapping him in a tight embrace. I couldn’t control what I was doing, but I still felt everything. Every ounce of pain he inflicted on me, every sensation. Good and bad. It was a torture unlike any other I had experienced. It felt like years, but it was only an hour. I was aware of myself slowly moving back into my body; I could move my fingers just barely. I could blink, and after a while I found I could move my limbs. I struggled to push Aidan’s body off me; he was so damn heavy. I pushed myself off the ground and onto my shaking legs, doubling over from the pain. He was so rough with it. It hurt so badly that I could hardly walk myself to the bathroom and throw up.  

I learned not to speak back to him after that first day. I realized that it was better to submit than to fight back. He was more gentle than when I didn't try to resist. It hurt less.  

After that first week I had retreated into the recesses of my mind, surrounding myself in that terrible bliss the pill provided. I think that was the intent. I think they made it so those of us who took it would be locked away from our body; unable to choose what happens to us. I was only able to see what went on in the world through snapshots, never fully aware of what I was doing or what was happening to me. I would hear a sound, or feel something brush against my scales, but it was only ever a feeling. Never anything profound. Though I would get a rare moment of lucidity once in a while.   

I remember one time it happened. I was watching a slideshow of my morning through a thick fog. I had just finished watching myself brush my teeth when I felt a sensation of speeding up. I watched my body move faster and faster, and I felt myself being pulled away from the safety of my mind. My eyes snapped open and I found myself sitting at my desk doing paperwork. I was at the military headquarters in Jagerdale. I dropped the pen in my talons and looked at them numbly, too shocked to realize I was in control of myself. My first thoughts were blurry as I tried to make sense of where I was. I recognized my office, the grey metal desk I was sitting at, the old bookshelf with a framed photo of my first promotion, how happy I looked back then. It was all so surreal. I remained lucid throughout the day, taking a taxi back to my apartment as I couldn’t use my portals. 

I got to the front door and hesitated before opening it. Aidan was standing there in the living room, a dark look on his face. Someway, somehow, he knew I was lucid. 

“It’s been a month already and you’re still not pregnant. Why?” he growled, striding towards me. I backed away from him, but my back hit the door. I fumbled with the handle, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from it. I cried out and fell to the floor, feeling the soft carpet on my face. “This program is of the utmost importance to our species; you need to step up and do your part.”  

“Why? Why can’t I just leave!” 

Aidan was silent for a moment. An expression of deep brooding painted on his face. 

“Because you're special!” he hissed, sinking his claws into my arm. 

I felt his hands wrap around my throat and pull me upwards towards his face. His eyes were full of a dark craving. I felt the world slow down, and then speed up as I allowed myself to be pulled back into that quiet, peaceful, corner of my mind. I lost all sensation of my body and what was going on. I didn’t want to remain in control ever again if this was how my life was to go. I didn’t want to live anymore either; I just wanted it all to stop. I just wanted to think of myself as important, not useful.  

In the time I spent away from consciousness I can remember viewing my early life through a kind of screen, able to see but unable to interact. I reflected on how similar I am to my mother. She had green scales on her horns. She was also distant, like she wasn’t the one in the driver's seat. She’d walk around the house with a blank look on her face, only responding to things when her name was called. I don’t know why I never found this odd. I guess I just figured that was how mothers were. Cold and distant. Every time me or my countless other siblings would try to tell her something she’d just stare into the distance and give a sort of half nod. I don’t think she was even aware of what we were saying. Just responding to the stimuli. They were rare moments when she was lucid though. I was fearful of her when she was.  

I remember how she’d react to seeing me. And it was only me, never my siblings. She’d shower them with love and warmth, tears lining her eyes as she hugged them tightly. But whenever she saw me she’d freeze and her breathing would stop entirely. She would look at my horns and the realization of what my future was going to be like would hit her like a ton of bricks. She would cry and cry, not stopping until my father intervened. Then she’d scream. She would back away from him in a panic and beg him not to hurt her. I was never aware of why she would say those things. Father was never violent or abusive. All he would do was tell her it was all going to be okay and then he’d open her mouth and give her a pill, and then she’d calm down and go back to that expressionless version again. I only know why she was afraid of him after going through the same things she did. I know why she was afraid of that pill. It strips you of all you are and takes away the very ability to say no. It uses your body against you, weaponizing your hormones to make you subservient and submissive, taking away your ability to make portals and sapping your strength. It reduces you to something they can shape to fit their needs. 

The worst part about the pill effect is waking up. That overwhelming realization that time has passed without you being aware of it destroys you.  

It had taken close to a year before I became lucid again. All I remembered before the pill took a hold of my mind was the white of Aidan's teeth glinting in the dull light of the living room. 

##### 

I awoke with a start, smacking the back of my head painfully against the wall. I rubbed my head and looked around, wincing. It was hard to see anything through the gloom and I struggled to find the on switch to my bedside lamp. I switched it on and took a look around the bedroom. Something was different. The previously umber wallpaper was now a dreary shade of grey. The bed sheets were also different, silkier, and of a much higher quality than I last remembered. The chair I used to keep in the corner of the room was gone, replaced with a statue of a tall and imposing male Hellzen, metallic and swathed in shadow.  

I sat up and immediately realized something was wrong. I felt heavier. I looked down and nearly choked. I was pregnant. My stomach was distended heavily, and the scales were stretched thin across the eggs inside.  

“No...” I whispered hoarsely. “No god...no please no.....” I cried quietly, reaching out as if to touch it but pulling back sharply. I brought my hands up to my face and stared at them open mouthed, my lower lip quivering. These couldn’t be my hands; this couldn’t be my body. How long had I been gone? I leaned over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand, fumbling to turn it on. I looked at the date and dropped my phone onto the floor. It was October 4^th. Eight months had passed since Aidan cornered me in the living room. I grabbed my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. There was no way this happening! This couldn’t be real; it couldn’t! 

I looked over my shoulder and saw the soft rise and fall of Aidan's chest as he slept. There was nothing inherently sinister about this, yet I found myself backing away from him. I got out of bed slowly, not used to the extra weight of my midsection, and forced down the advancing waves of nausea that were working their way up my throat. Holding myself in my arms, I stared at the dark walls, bleary eyed and crying. What happened to me? I used to be powerful. I had politicians and military leaders fawning over me and showering me with praise. But they weren’t doing it for who I was; they were doing it because they needed what I had. They wanted more of us. More green marked Hellzen for the war effort against Aerou and Fyura.  

I stared hard at the floor, wrapping my tail against the inside of my leg. Why had I done this to myself? Why had I so blatantly trusted them when the truth of this program was right in front of me my entire life. I was naive. I ignored every red flag, every cause for alarm, and for what reason? Because they showered me with praise I never received as a child. I had let myself become a slave to someone else’s desires and lost who I really was. I hated myself more than Aidan or the government. Sure, they were the root cause, but it was my blind faith in them that led me down this path. I despised what I had become. 

I wiped away my tears and left the confines of the bedroom. I wanted to be by myself for a while, so I went to take a shower. Craving the comfort of the water against my scales and the sensation of being clean. The bathroom floor was cold against my feet, and I quickly turned on the shower. I stepped in and shivered at the water's warmth against my back. I turned my gaze towards the ceiling and just stared for a while, lost in thought.  

I wondered what I would name them, or if Aidan would even let me name them. I wasn’t privy to the full scope of this cursed program I was in. Whether I was allowed to name my kids or not I didn’t know. I never knew how I got my name. I figured they were keeping me as a slave in the hopes that I bore green marked offspring, specifically ones that are female. We're the only ones who can pass along the gene that gives us our abilities. I envy the males; they lead a life of military leadership while us women are utilized as factories to produce more.  

 I felt a cold tingle run down my back as my thoughts led me to wonder about what Aidan would do if none of them had a green mark. How soon would the cycle of abuse start again? How many times would it take for me to become pregnant? How forceful would he be? It hurt just thinking about it. 

 I wiped away more tears as I ruminated on what would happen if one of them was green marked. How could I stand watching her grow up only to end up in this program? My own early life was lonely and heavily monitored. I closed my eyes, thinking back once again to my childhood. The hospital trips, the tests, the live portal demonstrations in front of hundreds of important leaders and businessmen in circular, concrete rooms hundreds of feet underground. The cold air and blank faces of the guests watching me summon a portal at seven years old. The quiet smattering of applause from men and women shrouded in darkness. My mother's tears whenever she saw me, at least when she was in charge of her head. She wasn’t there most of the time. I realize now—I’m not either. 

 I pulled myself close. I didn’t want to take the pill anymore and live in its terrible bliss like my mother did. The mere thought of going under again caused my chest to tighten. I exhaled a shaky breath. I needed to be there for my children, to be present in their lives and wrap them in my arms whenever I wanted to, not just when the pill let me. I had to be a good parent who could play with them and love them. Not just be a person they called mom. I wanted to be the mother they could love. 

I sighed at the torrent of thoughts swirling through my head. None of it mattered now; I should just focus on remaining present, as much as it hurt to do so. I stayed in the shower for a while, just thinking. It was nice; the water’s touch wasn’t malicious like Aidan’s. No sensation of cold talons trailing across my scales, no warm breathing on my neck, no teeth biting into my shoulder.  I had taken it for granted my whole life. I turned off the water and flared up my temperature to dry off. I walked back into my room; hesitating before crawling back under the covers and flinching as he wrapped his arm around me. I lay there on the cold mattress under sheets of fine silk just staring at the wall. There were no tears this time. They had run dry. 

I wondered If I could trick my way out of having to take the pill. If I just do whatever Aidan and the government wants when they want, perhaps they’ll let me remain in control of my actions. Maybe then I can give my children the life I never had, at least part of it. I can’t speak for Aidan on how good a father he’d make. I imagine he’d be pretty distant and cold. Viewing our kids as nothing more than a statistic in his career. The thought was nice, but they’d never let it happen. Our life spans are nearly 200 years. The potential to have me deliver even just a few green-marked was too valuable to lose. 

 I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I awoke to watery shafts of sunlight streaming through the smoky grey curtains. It had been so long since I’d remembered feelinf the sun, and I reveled in its warmth against my scales, soaking in its rays greedily. 

I got up and made my way over to the dresser to put on my clothes. We must’ve gone shopping at some point, as I didn’t recognize the clothes in my closet anymore. It was all formal wear. I guessed Aidan was a stickler for uniforms even if I couldn’t actually wear one myself. When I finished dressing, I decided to look at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognize what stared back. My eyes had deep bags under them, and my face was lined with creases and countless marks. I stared at my reflection in shame, looking up and down. I had been beautiful before. I turned my head away before the thoughts looming at the back of my mind became too much to handle.   

##### 

I gave birth about a month later. It was painful, and I was alone. Aidan wasn’t there and I was glad. But I felt a twinge of disappointment that there wasn’t a father to witness this. The eggs were a deep black, like obsidian, just see translucent enough to make out their genders. I already decided I’d name the first girl Asha and the second girl Lilith. Aidan wanted the boy named after him, and I didn’t want to fight him on it.   

The first cracks appeared this morning; the largest egg was rocking slightly. My eyes darted from egg to egg, never staying on one for longer than a second. My jaw clenched tight as I paced back and forth in front of the clutch. I had locked the door to the room where I kept them. Aidan couldn’t care less about the hatching; he only wanted to see the results and so agreed to give me the sole duty of watching them hatch.  

What if something goes wrong? What if one of them is too weak to survive or—or cuts itself on the eggshell? What if one of them is green marked?  

I continued my relentless pacing, biting my nails as I watched in trepidation. 

Seconds later the first one hatched; she was normal, no green scales. I couldn’t be happier.  

“Welcome to the world little Asha.” I said, picking up her small form. She made a light squeaking noise as I set her down on the blanket next to me. The next egg cracked open, and an orange and black snout poked out from the eggshell. I cleared the rest of the shell away and felt my heart skip a beat. Green. I saw green in that egg. My hands shook so badly I couldn’t clear away the rest of the eggshell. I had to sit back on my feet and watch in painstaking slowness as the small head poked through the black eggshell. Her horns had small green scales wrapped around them like vines. Just as mine did. My heart stopped, and I froze.  

No. Oh god no, no no no no no no no no no. Why? Why did she have to have green scales? Why couldn’t she just be normal? I don’t—I can’t let her go through this. I-I can’t! I can’t let my daughter suffer like I have! I can’t! Oh god! Oh god why? Why did you have to do this to her God! WHY!  

I looked down into her innocent eyes. Lilith. I felt the warmth of her scales pressing against mine. The trust, and love in her large purple eyes. In that moment I knew I couldn’t let her experience the horror of this program; it would destroy me to see her corrupted this way. I stared at her, desperation overwhelming my senses.   

Wake up! Wake up, you’re just dreaming again! T-This isn’t real! You're not in control of your body! That's what this is! It has to be! Peril, you’re just dreaming in the bliss again! Just wake up and it’ll all be over...  

I wasn't dreaming, though. I think I knew that deep down. But I still tried to pretend I was, if only to make my next actions easier.  

“Peril, have they hatched yet? Are any of them green marked?” Aidan’s voice. He was knocking on the door. I couldn’t let him know. He would take her—them away from me. I chose not to answer him. I couldn’t let him see what I was about to do. Every instinct I had screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. I had to save her from this future. I wouldn’t let her be a tool for the government to make more of us. I felt my temperature flare up, the sweat on my skin boiling off me in an instant. The curtains on the windows started smoking, and the wallpaper began to curl and brown. 

 Aidan must’ve seen the flickering orange light spilling out from beneath the doorway, for he began pounding on it, demanding to be let in.  

“Peril? Peril what the fuck is going on!” He yelled, pulling on the doorknob and slamming his hand against the door.  

I ignored him, tears streaming down my face as I continuously raised my temperature. The curtains were in flames and the walls had started smoking. I could faintly hear the cries of protests from babies but I pushed it. I had to save them, had to save her.  

“Peril open this fucking door now!” Aidan was roaring in fury, slamming the door hard enough to crack it. “Let me in dammit!”  

I kept going, nearing my apex. The entire room was in flames now, and the cries of my babies had reduced to whimpers.  

“I’M SORRY!” I cried, sobbing on my knees as their bodies bent inwards, blackening from the heat. “I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!”  

Aidan slammed himself into the door one last time, breaking it down and stumbling into the room.  

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE—”  

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In that instant I reached the flash point and released all the heat that was building up inside of me at once in a wail of pure agony and despair. The wall of flames eviscerated everything, reducing my entire apartment to molten slag in an orange inferno of grief. I did the worst thing a mother could do to her children. I had killed them all. Aidan and my newborns, nothing remained of their bodies save for the charred bones that surround me. I sat there in the wreckage for some time. Just holding the ashy remains of my kids and sobbing. calling their names over and over again.

It was Halloween, 1998.

The neighborhood glowed with orange lights and plastic skeletons. Fake cobwebs clung to porches, and carved pumpkins flickered in the dark. Kids filled the streets, laughing and shouting as they ran from house to house.

Nine-year-old Timmy walked with his friends Wayne and Sean, their candy bags already half full.

They stopped in front of a house that didn’t fit in.

The others were bright, decorated, alive.

This one wasn’t.

Its paint was peeling. The yard was dead. No decorations. Just a single porch light glowing weakly above the door.

“Trick or treat,” all three boys called out.

The door creaked open.

A man stepped out wearing an dirty and wrinkled old man mask

In his hands was a bowl of candy.

He didn’t say a word.

He dropped a piece into each of their bags.

Wayne squinted at him. “What are you supposed to be?”

The man didn’t answer.

Instead, he slowly tilted his head to the side… farther than it should go.

Too far.

The boys went quiet.

“Uh… thanks,” Timmy muttered.

The door shut.

They kept going, saying it was just halloween. More houses, more candy, more noise. The normal Halloween feeling slowly came back.

Until Wayne stopped.

“I gotta pee.”

Before anyone could stop him, he ran to the side of a nearby house and started going right on the doormat.

“what the hell—” Sean started.

The front door burst open.

A man in a skeleton costume stormed out, gripping a broom. “You little shit!”

Wayne yelped and bolted.

The three boys ran, crashing through a patch of woods as the man chased them, shouting. Branches snapped under their feet. Leaves whipped their faces.

After a while, the shouting stopped.

They didn’t.

Not until they were sure they were alone.

Sean bent over, catching his breath. “You’re an idiot.”

Wayne laughed. “Yeah, but I still got my candy.”

Timmy pointed. “You also got pee on your costume.”

They both laughed.

Wayne didn’t.

When they stepped back onto the street, something felt… off.

Too quiet.

The streetlights flickered.

Then one went out.

Then another.

A van rolled slowly down the road.

Timmy’s stomach dropped.

The driver.

The old man mask.

The van crept forward, and as it passed each streetlight, the bulb above them went dark. One by one, the entire street dimmed into darkness.

The van stopped beside them.

The engine idled.

No one spoke.

Then the engine roared.

The van lunged forward.

Timmy yells “RUN!”

They sprinted.

The van chased them, keeping just close enough—like it was playing with them. The sound of the engine was right behind them, always there, always gaining.

They stumbled into a shallow dip in the land—a small valley.

The van surged forward.

Sean didn’t make it out in time.

The tire hit him with a sickening thud and crushed his leg.

He screamed.

Timmy and Wayne turned, trying to grab him—but the van door slammed open.

The masked man jumped out.

He shoved them aside like they were nothing.

Sean clawed at the ground, screaming, “DON’T LEAVE ME!”

The man grabbed him and dragged him toward the van.

Timmy froze.

Wayne didn’t.

“GO!” Wayne screamed, pulling Timmy.

They ran.

They didn’t stop.

An hour later, shaking and breathless, they reached a house and pounded on the door.

“HELP! PLEASE!”

The door opened.

A man stood there calmly.

The boys pushed inside, crying. “He took our friend—he took Sean!”

The man closed the door behind them and Locked it.

“It’s alright now,” he said softly. “You’re safe now.” did you see what he looked like?

Timmy shook his head. “He had a mask—we couldn’t see his face—”

The man tilted his head slightly.

“Did it look like this?”

He raised something into view.

The old man mask.

Everything inside Timmy went cold.

Wayne turned toward the window.

The house… wasn’t broken anymore.

The paint was fresh.

The porch was clean.

It was the same house.

They screamed and ran deeper inside.

A bedroom.

They slammed the door and locked it.

The doorknob rattled immediately.

Then pounding.

Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.

“PLEASE!” Timmy shouted. “LET US GO!”

The pounding stopped.

Silence.

Then—

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Not on the door.

Somewhere else in the house.

Like hammering.

Like something being built.

The boys looked at each other.

The doorknob began to turn.

Slowly.

Click.

The door flew open.

No one was there.

They crept into the hallway.

The front door was nailed shut.

Every window had metal bars.

Not to keep people out.

To keep something in.

The TV flickered on by itself.

A news report.

“…multiple children reported missing across the state…”

Click.

Darkness.

Only one light remained.

At the bottom of the basement stairs.

They didn’t want to go down.

But they were to scared to stay where they were.

 A shadow follows them

Candles lit the basement.

Dozens of them.

The room stretched farther than it should have—longer, deeper, wrong.

Sean lay on a rusted hospital gurney.

Unconscious.

Symbols carved into his skin.

Wax melted across his body.

A fireplace roared to life.

A large pot hung over the flames.

Something moved behind them.

A shadow.

Not attached to anything.

It shifted along the walls, stretching, twisting.

Watching.

They backed away.

 And Ran.

Hid inside a rotting closet.

The smell was thick. Metallic like old pennies.

Through the gaps, they saw it.

The shadow growing.

Distorting.

Then—

The masked man stepped into view.

He approached Sean.

Whispering something too low to hear.

He raised a blade.

The fire surged higher.

Sean’s eyes snapped open.

He screamed.

The man pressed a finger to the mask’s lips.

“Shhh.”

The blade came down.

Timmy couldn’t breathe.

Wayne couldn’t look away.

The screaming stopped.

Too quickly.

The shadow shifted toward the closet.

The masked man turned.

Slowly.

He looked right at them.

Then lifted a finger.

“Shhh.”

The lights went out.

When they came back on

The man was gone.

The shadow was gone.

The gurney was still there.

Sean’s body… still there.

But Sean's head Was gone.

Sydney tucked the blanket snugly around her son.

“Mom… I heard whispering last night,” Scott said quietly, staring at his closet. “It came from in there.”

Sydney glanced at the door, then back at him with a soft smile. “It’s just your TV, honey and your anxiety”

She leaned down, kissed his cheek, and turned off the light. “Get some sleep.”

Scott watched her leave, the door clicking softly behind her.

The room felt bigger now. Quieter.

He grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until he found an action movie. The hero on screen was fearless— shouting, and kicking ass. Scott felt a little braver watching him. His shoulders relaxed.

Then—

A slow creak.

Scott’s eyes shifted toward the closet.

The door had opened just a crack.

He sat up slightly, staring.

Something moved.

A dark shape… low to the ground… dragging itself forward.

The TV flickered.

On. Off. On.

Scott’ screamed loudly “Mom!”

Footsteps rushed down the hall. Sydney burst in, flipping on the light.

Everything was normal.

The closet door was barely open.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

Scott pointed, his hand shaking. “It was in there.”

Sydney sighed gently and walked over. She pulled the closet open and turned on the light.

Nothing.

Just clothes. A sweatshirt hanging still.

“See?” she said softly. “There’s nothing there.”

Scott didn’t look convinced.

“Try to get some sleep,” she added, then left again.

The door closed.

Scott grabbed the remote with trembling hands and switched channels. This time, he landed on a comedy. Laughter filled the room. It helped. A little.

His body loosened. His eyes grew heavy.

Tap.

Scott froze.

Tap… tap.

From under the bed.

He swallowed hard. “It’s not real,” he whispered to himself, turning the TV volume up.

The laughter suddenly warped.

On the screen, a dark figure stood behind the characters—something that didn’t belong.

The closet light began to flicker.

On. Off. On. Off.

Scott pulled the blanket over his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

The room went quiet.

Then—

Slow footsteps.

Approaching the bed.

Scott held his breath.

He could feel it now. Something standing right beside him.

He peeked through the blanket.

A shadow loomed inches away.

A hand pressed against the fabric… slowly reaching toward him.

The blanket was ripped away.

Scott screamed.

A man stood over him, his face lost in shadow. Rough hands grabbed him, forcing him down, wrapping tape around his wrists.

“Mom! MOM!”

Sydney rushed in—and froze.

Her scream filled the room.

The man moved fast, dragging Scott toward the window. Sydney swung at him, trying to pull her son back.

The man struck her, sending her crashing to the floor.

Scott kicked and twisted, clinging to the bed frame. “No! NO!”

The man grabbed his hands and forced them apart. Scott cried out in pain as the grip crushed his wrist.

Sydney crawled forward, desperate. “Take me instead! Please—dont take my baby!”

The man didn’t even look at her.

He kicked her head aside.

Then he lifted Scott and climbed out the window.

Sydney could only watch, helpless and barely concious, as her son disappeared into the darkness. While Scott's scream can still be heard crying for her.

I want to tell you about something that stayed with me for many years during my childhood. I used to have the same dream again and again. I wanted to tell my family about it, but I never did, because I did not like the atmosphere of ruqyah, the Islamic healing recitation. When I was little, I once saw a scene where people hit and fought with the ones who came to them for ruqyah. With my small mind, I thought that this happens to everyone who goes for it. I had never seen ruqyah up close around me. Because of this, I stayed silent even as a child.

The dream came back many times, not on a fixed schedule, but about once a month, and sometimes twice. In the dream, I am outside playing. Then I meet a woman who is about forty years old. Her face never changes. Even now, as I write this, I remember her face very well. She opens her arms and walks toward me. At that moment my body freezes. I cannot run away or do anything. I can only scream. Even when I am with other people, I find myself cut off from them. Nobody hears me, and nobody comes to help, as if they cannot see me or her.

But she hugs me and kisses me with love. Honestly, she never hurt me. She felt very kind and caring, like she loved me. Still, I was a scared little child, and I felt I had to run away because she was dangerous. Sometimes she takes me with her as if she is looking for something. Sometimes she takes me to her house, cooks for me and feeds me. Sometimes she comes at night, puts me to sleep, and runs her hand over my head and hair until I fall asleep. Her face never changes. Everything about her stays the same. Her smile is still in front of my eyes today.

As time passed, every time I woke up, I felt I needed a solution to get rid of this dream. It had been repeating for almost three years. I was sure something strange was happening. I thought that if I did not stop her and find a solution, things might get worse. So I began to think about what I could do. I decided that while sleeping I must open my mind and tell myself, "I am asleep, this is only a dream," and then act on it to find a way to stop her. I also told myself that even if I scream and nobody hears me, God is there. He answers His servant, stays with him, and never leaves him. My awareness was growing with the years.

I started to try this in my dreams whenever she appeared. I tried once, twice, three times, and finally it worked. As she came to hug me, I began to recite the Quran and fight her with prayer and the Quran. She started to feel pain, stepped back, and failed. She said to me, "I do not hurt you, so why do you hurt me? You only see good from me. Why do you push me away? You are my son, you are my son." It felt like she was trying to make me accept that she stays with me as a companion. I kept going until she left.

After that, I never dreamed of her again, until today. But she stayed in my mind, and it is impossible for me to forget her.

Title in English: The Woman in My Dream I Can Never Forget