Hidden Monster (The Monsters Among Us Book 1)

by Amanda Strong

  He held up a rib. “And the body scan showed some interesting workings within your metabolism. The way you break down sugar is quite fascinating. I believe you can slow it down to conserve oxygen, just like the sperm whale does.”

  “So that’s what the person did to change it, added whale DNA?”

  “I’d like run some more tests tomorrow. I might have some ideas about the blue dress. But yes, I’m fairly confident you have some strains of whale DNA. Not all, or you’d need some bigger clothing.” He winked and took a bite of his dripping rib.

  “That’s a scary thought,” I mumbled as I put a bite of salmon in my mouth, enjoying the lemon-butter drizzle it was covered in.

  Tonbo agreed. “Yes, especially since you have the gene that slows down your metabolism!”

  I found it hard to swallow my food down.

  Chapter 35

  Tonbo had proven himself to be an excellent host the entire day, and when the evening came, he invited guests to his estate, including Kate, for some live entertainment. I had no idea what to expect as we were ushered into Tonbo’s private theater. Being one of the few faces I knew, I was glad Kate sat next to me. Her presence helped buffer me from the prying eyes.

  Apparently, rumors had already spread across the island that Tonbo himself had run tests on me all day to see what I was made of. I knew they were just curious, but their gawking gave me the creeps. At least I found excuse to wear my black dress and heels. Too bad Blake’s not here to see me in it. I felt a wicked satisfaction that it was his own dang fault, and then I immediately felt guilty. Blake’s off killing a bug. I bit my lip. I didn’t know what I’d do if either Blake or Mack got seriously injured. Just how hurt can dragons get before they don’t heal? I tried to force those thoughts away.

  The stage lit up with performers, elaborately made up in costumes and makeup. The music shook the floor as damsels soared across the stage, flying in an intricate dance. The lighting turned pink, bathing everyone, including the audience, in its luminescence. Then dragons entered the stage and the music shifted to darker tones, a dark blue light chasing the pink away. That was when a fog formed on the stage, curling and inching its way towards the performers. They moved in it, gliding out their parts. When it dipped off the edge of the stage and began creeping its way up to us, I glanced at Kate, who smiled. She seemed delighted by it.

  I, on the other hand, wasn’t. It filled me with a sense of suffocation, which I knew logically made no sense because I could still breathe. And even if I couldn’t, I can hold my breath longer than anyone else here can. Just relax; it’s just effects, supposed to make me fear the dragons on stage doing that weird dance. I settled into my seat and took a deep breath. See, not poisonous fumes.

  Still, when it temporarily blocked my vision as it wrapped me up in its tendrils, I shuddered and rubbed my arms. Hope this ends soon. The temptation to hold my breath kept nagging at me. I should do it just to see how long I can. Plus, this fog reeks.

  I should’ve known the stench wasn’t a good sign, but my senses felt off kilter. I glanced around; no one else seemed dopey. Maybe I’m just tired.

  I cleared my throat and stopped breathing. Just in case. I didn’t like the way the fog was making me feel, sort of dazed and sluggish. I glanced at Kate; she was apparently enthralled with whatever was happening on the stage, because her eyes were wide and her hands set ready to clap in her lap. Her mouth cooed and then gasped, one hand flying to her pink lips.

  She turned to me. “Did you see that, Sammy?”

  Guess I missed something good. I must’ve managed to nod because her eyes riveted back to the stage. The fog had cleared now, and yet I didn’t feel right. I lifted my hand to Tonbo’s arm.

  He glanced over at me. “Enjoying the show, Samantha?”

  I never heard my own answer. Next thing I knew, I was facing the cabin, grass tickling my bare feet. Am I dreaming?

  The cabin loomed on the horizon, a dilapidated, wooden box sticking out of a meadow like a sore thumb. That’s not right. I fixed it in my dream. Tall grass changed to broken branches, leaves, and pine needles. Trees shot up and crowded my old prison.

  I don’t want to be here, I cried over and over, but my body kept flying towards it. Wait, I’m flying. I can get away, I reassured myself.

  Suddenly, the cabin was gone, but so was the light of day. Blackness enveloped me. I felt something pull at me, fighting me, trying to take control. No! Go away!

  The blackness won, and I passed out.

  My eyes refused to open and yet, I felt awake. Or was I? I felt lucid enough to realize I’d blacked out in the middle of the performance. Of all the times! What had I done? Slumped on Tonbo’s shoulder or worse, fallen to the floor? My hip and shoulder throbbed against the unyielding surface I lay on. Yes, I’m on the floor. Good grief. A small groan escaped my lips. I didn’t recognize my own voice; it sounded like a muffled croak. Like I have cotton balls stuffed in my mouth. I moved my tongue around; my mouth was dry and caked in something metallic. Is that blood?

  I forced my eyes open; a dim light flickered from somewhere behind me, streaking the wall I was smashed up against with shadows. Inhaling sharply, I smelled dank air reeking of wet wood and rotten garbage. I lay in a fetal position, my arms hugging my knees. From what I could tell, I still wore the black dress. I unlocked my grip on my legs and tried to lift my arm up; hot pain seared across my shoulder blades. I gasped, panting, until it finally ebbed and became bearable. My wings are hurt! Where am I?

  I had to know; I took several steadying breaths and then forced myself to ignore the pain. Pressing my hand against the wall, I tried to propel myself around. Paint crackled under my fingertips, peppering my face with flakes. I pushed harder, fire coursing through my back and down my wings.

  I screamed and then clamped my mouth shut, trying to control my breathing. I didn’t want anyone to hear me. I’d learned my lesson in the cabin. No good thing came when I’d cried for help.

  I’d managed to flip over and faced my new prison.

  Right in front of me sat my only light source, a squat candle. Wax spilled down its sides and pooled on the ground, forming lumpy clumps. Wonder how long it’s been burning… how long I’ve been here. The candle wasn’t tall to start with, only a few inches high, and almost the entire center was hot liquid now. I could only gape at it; it felt like I was clinging to my last hope. The dancing flame seemed to mock me, as it buried itself further in the candle, shortening the wick. Shortening my time with light. I shuddered to think of the blackness I’d be left in when that happened. No time to waste.

  My throbbing body protested, but I forced myself to sit up. I glanced over my shoulder, my wings appeared whole, but I wasn’t ready to try them yet. I needed to know more. Starting with, where am I! Last thing I remembered was sitting in that theater, hating that fog.

  I sniffed at the air. Definitely musty, old… like that fog had been. Like the bug. I sucked in air. Oh my gosh! He has me! But how? Tonbo had been right next to me the whole time.

  “Stop,” I hissed. It didn’t help to get hysterical in the cabin, and it won’t help now! Need to think, Sam. How did you get here?

  My eyes took in what little surrounded me, hoping for a clue—cement floor, rundown walls, and a pile of trash in the corner. Well, that explains the smell. I lay in perhaps an eight-by-eight room with no closet. Maybe a forgotten cubby or hidden compartment. Nothing on the walls but large, ragged holes. The image of a raging lunatic smashing his fists through the peeling paint filled my mind.

  There has to be a way out, a door. I scanned the room and found a pitch-black opening directly behind me. My head had been near it the entire time I lay there. Creepy. The yawning, dark doorway terrified me. What waited for me in there? Freedom or torture?

  Either way, I had to find out. My gaze fixed on the light in front of me, the wax dripping down. I didn’t have much time left. I needed to act. My life depended on it. If the bug had me, he would come back. Taking in my battere
d state, I didn’t think he planned on playing nice.

  At least this time, I’m not tied down. I gritted my teeth and attempted to stand up. My vision became soupy, as I fought the torture shooting through my joints. I couldn’t make it up further than my hands and knees.

  I may be broken, but I’m not dead yet! And I’m not giving up. I shuffled forward, one knee, one hand, one knee… Then I stopped. I hauled back and gripped the hem of my dress. To my delight, it was already in shreds. I pulled at it with my hands, but discovered they were already bleeding from cuts and scrapes. I tore a large piece off with my teeth instead, reopening wounds and filling my mouth with blood. Spitting it out, I wiped my mouth clean with the back of my hand.

  Using the scrap of material, I scooped the small puddle of hot wax up, cradling the light in my hand. Shaking with adrenaline, pain, and fear, I pressed my free hand against the wall and used it as leverage to pull myself to standing. Got to get out of here.

  One step, two steps, three steps…

  I thrust my flickering flame forward and entered the black void. The floor was no longer smooth. Felt more like dirt. The air smelled earthy. Am I outside? With the candle, I could make out the wall next to me, smooth rock, well worn.

  I strained to see ahead but the blackness was velvet, thick and impenetrable.

  I had the sinking suspicion I was in some sort of cave. Carefully running one hand along the wall, I shuffled forward. After several steps, the space I was in narrowed considerably. Think I just entered a hallway or tunnel. The walls were on both sides of me. I forced my feet on. Eventually, this has to lead to somewhere, right? I just pray I get there before my candle gives out.

  Chapter 36

  I had no idea how long I followed the twisting, turning tunnel. At some point, I realized my pain was all but numb, either from healing or exertion. My breathing became stronger, and my legs weren’t so wobbly. Didn’t Blake say we heal fast?

  I decided to test it and gingerly stretched my wings out. They bumped into the ceiling, letting me know that it was indeed lower than I hoped. I’d been deluding myself, trying to keep the claustrophobia at bay. I focused on my back muscles, flexing each one carefully… waiting for the stabbing pain. It never came.

  I swallowed hard and flapped them, slowly at first. Again, nothing. I’m healed! I soared up, bumping right into the ceiling. In my moment of clumsy elation, I snuffed out my precious flame.

  I swore at my own stupidity, and then cringed when I heard it echo down the chamber. Stupid, stupid, girl, I berated myself, what are you doing? Shut up and get out of here! Nothing I could do now but fly as fast as I could and pray for the best. I dropped the hot wax from my hand and took off, my wings smacking cold walls along the way.

  With my sight limited, I opened up my other senses. I hoped my sense of smell would help lead me. I didn’t want to imagine how bad it’d hurt if I flew straight into a wall.

  When the air shifted cold and smelled of iron, I halted. I felt for the walls; there were none close enough to feel. Must be some sort of large cavern. I flew slower, terrified now to have a decision to make. Which way do I go? Becoming disoriented, I decided my safest bet would be to land. My bare feet pressed down on sharp, broken fragments. I gasped and lifted back up. Crap. Can’t walk through that. Felt like broken glass. I flew a bit further and decided to test it again. Same result. I cursed under my breath, terrified I’d make the wrong decision and never leave this forsaken cave. Then I heard it.

  A wailing sob.

  I froze, my ears calculating the distance and direction it came from. Sounds like it’s on my right. Do I head to the left then?

  The moaning began again, and this time, I could tell it was definitely masculine. It was hard to tell from the crying if it was someone I knew. Could it be Blake or Mack? The racking cry began again, and I decided definitely not.

  Whoever he was, he sounded miserable. And even if he was the one who threw me in here, he was probably my only hope of getting out. Maybe I can sneak up on him… if only I had a weapon.

  I almost gasped when I thought of it, but bit my lip instead. Lowering myself down, I tried to be as silent as possible. I couldn’t tell by the way the cavern echoed how close my sobbing friend was.

  My fingers fumbled to find a lose shard, amongst the dagger-like surface I encountered. Finally, one chunk gave way and I hefted it up. I ran my hand along it. Felt like stone, maybe six-inches long and a few inches thick. To my delight, and pain, I discovered one end was extremely sharp. I wrapped my hand in my dress for a moment, trying to stop the bleeding from the injury I’d just given myself. I knew I didn’t have time to make a bandage. My hand could wait. I needed to move now, before my captor knew I was coming.

  The wailing continued, and I focused to hone in on my target. It took me a second to be sure; the sound bounced off the walls so much that it confused me at first. Feeling confident, I flew toward his crying. My wings hit walls, and I was comforted to be back in a passageway. Especially if this leads out. Just have to get past whoever’s making those horrible sounds.

  From the racking torment, the person sounded remorseful, which didn’t exactly fit what I’d learned about bugs so far. Didn’t they delight in killing? Have no conscience?

  I slowed when I spied a splinter of light up ahead. As much as I wanted to beeline for it, like a moth to a porch light, I needed to be cautious. I slackened my pace. When I got close enough, I saw that the light seeped out from around a closed door. I inched forward, and the door opened just a crack.

  I hesitated, weapon drawn, and then I stared ahead, the dark tunnel leading on. Maybe I could just keep going. I felt a surge of hope at the prospect of not having to face the beast within that room.

  Then the crying became more distinct, words erupting out painfully clear. “How can I do this to him? He trusted me! I was all he had! For so long!” He sobbed; it sounded pathetic. “I am a monster! I should be destroyed!”

  His words cemented me to the floor. I stared at the light before me. Who’s in there? I didn’t know if it was curiosity, horror, or just plain stupidity that kept me there listening.

  His words were growled, like the anguish of someone damned to eternal torment. Still, I sat there, captivated by his sobbing.

  “If I do this, I won’t go on. I will find a way to end myself,” he muttered between cries. I heard a scuffle from within, things falling to the ground. Was he with someone?

  Time to go! No way am I facing two monsters! I rose up, ready to bolt, when he roared, “Blake will never know! Now shut up and let’s enjoy her!”

  The voice was the same, though the timbre had changed. It was like listening to Gollum arguing with himself. Or, I realized, the man detesting the dragon within him. Maybe there was some good left in this bug. The human part. The part that wailed at its own actions, that knew it was going to hurt Blake if it killed me.

  That human part pleaded, “No! It’ll destroy him! He needs her!”

  I knew I should go. I was a complete idiot to stay, but I gravitated toward the door. It was open at least an inch—large enough for spying. I leaned in, desperate to glimpse within. The light blinded me a moment. Then my eyes adjusted, making out a figure standing, its back to me. No wings. Human.

  Brown hair, tall, decent build from what I could tell. I didn’t recognize him, and disappointment shot through me. I wanted answers. Who was this person who’d caused so much pain? Is this who swore I’d love him in the cabin? I didn’t even know him. Nothing made sense.

  The man clutched at his stomach, hunched over, and sobbed. “I refuse! I won’t do it. Not this time.” He gasped and doubled over, his words barely audible. “Anyone but her!”

  Instantly, the man straightened and growled in a deep tone, “Already played that card! All those other girls can’t compare to her! We’ve never hunted such a prize. Why deny us the satisfaction now? Nothing will quench this thirst but her, and you know it. Quit stalling. I’ll kill a thousand others and still want her.
Think of it as mercy. You’re sparing them. Let me have her!”

  It horrified and fascinated me. He was having an argument with his dragon side. And it’s over whether or not to kill me!

  And then, before my eyes, the man began morphing, a shriek tearing from his lips. His height shot up, his body tripling in size. His wings ripped out, tearing the flesh anew, blood splattering down his back. I saw then all the red, ragged scars marking him. Morphing tortured him.

  I’d seen enough. Channeling the horror and adrenaline, I bolted, my eyes watering from either the speed or the terror I felt. Blind and in unfamiliar territory, I scraped against rough surfaces, dragged my legs through what felt like razors at times, hit my head, and slammed my body into hard rock more than once. I kept doubling back and pushing on. I had to get out even if I broke every limb doing it.

  I heard the door crash open. It echoed down the chamber, ricocheting into a perverse surround sound. I wasn’t sure if he followed after me. Did he go back to my room, hoping I was still unconscious there? How long did I have until he realized I was gone?

  I pushed harder, faster.

  Then I heard it. The roar of vicious anger coming from behind. He flew without light. He knows these tunnels. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of camo before. Digging within myself, while flying scared to death, I found my center. I had no real way of knowing if it had worked. Even if I held my hand directly in front of my face, I saw nothing either way.

  But on the off chance my camo had worked, maybe it would help me hide. It was all I had… and the hard shard I’d hung onto.