We each had our individual relationships: Soren and I, Chris and I, and Soren and Chris. But we also had to consider the dynamics of the three of us together. All four relationships were more fulfilling than I’d ever thought I’d find. Even though they were also a lot more work, I never doubted that we would find our way.
Growing up, I’d had an awful example, and I’d always assumed I’d get married and be miserable until I couldn’t take it anymore. My two guys saved me from that.
The first one I slept with was Soren. We’d gone on a quick run that turned out to not be very quick. We had a close call and nearly didn’t make it back to the bunker alive. With the adrenaline rushing through our system, we fucked before we got home. It was wild, violent, and perfect.
My first time with Chris was almost the complete opposite. Even though it was weeks later, I could tell he’d put a lot of thought into it. He even scrounged up some tiny chocolates. On a blanket beneath a full moon, we made love. It was slow, sweet, and brought tears to my eyes.
We even had a first time as the three of us. It was more of a special occasion thing, but I didn’t mind. I loved it, anyway. Honestly, it had surprised me that they felt comfortable enough to do so.
We did all sleep together in the same bed each night. With me in the middle, of course. Though I did find it hilarious when I’d sneak out of bed early and watch them wake up in each others’ arms. They finally caught on to my game and stopped giving me any reaction, forcing me to find other ways to torture them.
Coleen did have her baby, a girl. The birth was difficult, but everything seemed fine until the girl grew. Something was missing from her. She always seemed so hollow. Her conscience was absent, and I doubted she could love. Coleen and Mike continued on, and both were amazing parents. In the end, nothing they did affected her.
But by the time I realized it, my own baby grew in me. Our family of three became four, then five, then six. Each of them became just like Trini, Coleen’s girl.
We tried to instill humanity in them, but we failed. Despite their obvious deficits, we loved them. How could we not? When they got old enough, each of them ran away. They would come back, but they never stayed. Each time broke me just a little more. Even worse, I could see how it destroyed Soren, Chris, Coleen, and Mike. If we hadn’t had each other, I would’ve gone insane.
Then Mike died, and Coleen shattered. She became obsessed with searching for him. She would disappear for weeks on end as she hunted for his body, and each time she returned thinner and thinner. Nothing we said or did could convince her to stay with us. Finally, one day, she simply didn’t come back.
Soren went next, murdered while we were outside working on a small plot of food. He sacrificed himself to save Chris and me, but just before we passed through the doors, I witnessed his fall. Silencing the wails ricocheting through me to keep Chris safe cracked something inside. I lost myself and couldn’t connect with reality anymore. Even Chris could pull me from the depths of my soul for only short periods. The pain in his eyes as he watched me pushed me even deeper inside of myself as I sought out a respite from the pain. It wasn’t that I loved him any less. I just couldn’t seem to find the will to live with only half of my heart.
And still the children, now grown, kept showing up, chipping away at me even more. I died in my sleep, curled up next to my Chris. There just wasn’t enough of my heart left to sustain me any longer.
When I woke in his arms, my soul felt wrong inside of my body. It felt so wrong as though chains kept it in place, chains I’d never noticed before. I left him there, unaware that I’d gone.
As the sun rose, his scream could be heard across the Earth. He joined us not too long after, and his body looked so thin that I was sure he’d joined us on purpose.
We clustered together as we found each other, constantly walking the land until we began to fall apart. The moment the last of my old trappings fell away, the relief I felt can’t be captured in words. It finally felt right. Our children never joined us, leaving us heartbroken.
Together, our souls waited. On what, we didn’t know. Until one day, I spotted a glowing white woman crest the hill. She stared back at the town for a moment before speeding our way.
The hope I’d long since lost clawed its way up, and I lifted my hand.
Want to find out who the symbol of hope was? Read Zella’s story in Forgotten Essence.
About the Author
When not writing, Aster North is running the homestead with her husband. She is the mother of two kids and sometimes an adoptive mom to cows and goats. Naps, cheese dip, and Dr. Peppers seem to keep her alive. She also collects creative curse words, so if you have one you think is unique, feel free to drop her a message. Please consider taking a moment to add your opinion of this story at the place where you bought it.
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Other books by Aster North
The Anomaly Series
Twisted Flames
Blazing Petals
Ashen Feathers
Igniting Bonds
The Anomaly Series Box Set
Foxy Witch Series
Box of Puppets
Soul Fiend Series
Forgotten Essence
On Death’s Wings
MYTHOMORPHOSES
By
Joely Sue Burkhart
For my Beloved Sis.
Thank you to my comma warriors and beta readers:
Sherri Meyer, Stephanie Cunningham, Lydia Simone,
Bibiane Lybæk, Kaila Duff, and Jennifer Swan
Chapter One
Waking up was like razor blades shearing off my eyelids. I blinked away the pain, trying to remember where I was. I couldn’t see anything.
The smell of something rank filled my nostrils, making me gag. I’d never smelled anything so wretched before.
I tried to lift my arm, but I was pinned. I couldn’t even feel my fingers.
Panic ripped through me in a hot flash of terror. What happened? Where am I?
I could taste that smell. Death. On my tongue.
Bile bubbled up but I swallowed it down, determined not to add yet another horrible smell to the mix of sewage and rotting flesh.
“Help!” At least my voice worked, though it sounded like more of a croak than an understandable word.
I focused on my body, trying to categorize what I could feel. I could wiggle my toes. I wasn’t paralyzed. My chest felt so heavy. I could barely draw in a breath. Maybe I had pneumonia. But why the fuck couldn’t I see?
A muffled voice filtered down to me. I couldn’t understand the words, but I could tell it was a man.
“Help! Down here!”
The voice came again. Closer. A foreign language, I thought, but not one that I recognized.
“Please!” I screamed harder, even though my throat ached with strain. “I’m here!”
Something shifted above me. I could feel things moving incrementally. Scant more light. A little less weight on my chest.
“Hold on,” the voice said in English this time. I couldn’t place his accent. His voice was gruff and low, but it was the most beautiful sound in the world.
I wasn’t alone. I wasn’t going to die here. Yet.
The darkness lightened another shade. A crack appeared. Blue sky above. Sunlight.
A face. Thick, dark glasses covered his eyes, giving him a bug-like appearance.
I would have wept with relief, if there’d been any moisture left in my body. Even if he wasn’t human.
He was one of two alien species who’d come to Earth—months or years ago. I couldn’t remember when they’d arrived, though I’d seen constant news coverage of their ship’s shocking appearance. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen the shows, or what I’d been doing at the time.
I couldn’t remember my name or what had put me at the bottom of
this stinking pile of refuse, but my mind fired fact after fact at me, lightning fast.
He was a Thracian. He wore the thick glasses to protect his sensitive eyes from our sun’s powerful rays. His otherwise human appearance was misleading. He was a shapeshifter species. Supposedly a winged dragon-like creature with fur rather than scales, but I’d never seen one in person. At least I didn’t think I had. I couldn’t picture the animal-like form in my mind, though I recognized the special glasses.
But why couldn’t I remember my name? Had I suffered a serious head injury?
He tossed something aside with a heavy grunt. “Almost there. Fuck, human. Who’d you piss off to end up buried alive? Or are you just looking for your keys?”
I blinked up at him. Buried? I was buried?
The smell.
I swallowed. Hard. Willed my eyes not to look anywhere but the man’s face. I didn’t want to see what he was tossing aside to free me. He didn’t have a shovel. So it wasn’t dirt. And if I was buried…
Another male spoke somewhere out of my sight. His voice sounded like music. If I closed my eyes, I could float away on the complex symphony in each tone.
Another alien, this one a Nyxosi. With their graceful, slender forms, the media had dubbed them elves for their beauty and musical voices. The two species had arrived together. That was important, but I didn’t know why. My brain… hiccuped, rattling like an engine skipping gears.
Buried. Alive.
How? Why? What the fuck had happened?
In desperation, I focused on him, letting the gentle melody of his voice soothe me, even though I had no idea what he said. I brought up all the facts I could remember about their species. Unfortunately, it wasn’t much. But it was better than thinking about the body-sized shapes the first alien tossed over his shoulder.
There’d been five ships, but only one had come to the US. The President had spoken on television several times to assure the public that everything was under control. Our visitors meant us no harm. They weren’t here to obliterate us. And they hadn’t. I remembered that much. They’d started dying first.
How do I know that?
Another low grunt drew my attention back to the alien. He was closer now. Leaning down over me as he heaved another body aside.
Oh god. Oh fuck. A body. I could see the tattered, stained clothes. Blue shirt. Long blonde hair. The red on her lips wasn’t lipstick. Vicious teeth—way too many to fit inside her mouth—glinted in the sunlight. Razor sharp canines lined up like ivory swords.
“Hey,” the alien growled. “Don’t look at that. Look at me. What’s your name?”
I focused on him, his face only a few feet away now. His ebony skin gleamed in the sunlight. No hair. Just the round shape of his head. The strange goggle sunglasses. Black shirt, too tight across the shoulders, like it’d shrunk. Or he’d borrowed it.
I refused to consider it might have been stripped off a dead body.
“My name’s Kharon,” he repeated. “What’s yours?”
Kharon… “Like from Greek mythology?”
He grinned and heaved another body aside. “Yeah, that’s right. It seemed fitting since he’s a ferryman. You humans couldn’t pronounce my real name.”
“You’re my navigator.” Even in English, the other alien’s voice rang with musical tones and bells. “Not a ferryman.”
“Same difference. So what’s your name, human?”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
I closed my eyes, reaching back… trying to remember anything. But it was blank. Not even a hint or a foggy area. My memories were gone, wiped clean like an empty, brand-new whiteboard without a single streak or shadowed letter to decipher.
“All I remember is waking up here.”
Wherever here is.
With a low grunt, he threw another heavy body aside and squatted down closer, giving me a quick once over. Then he offered his hand. “Let’s go.”
I lifted my right hand up and grabbed his. At least I could move. I couldn’t feel his skin against mine, but I felt the firmness of his grip as he squeezed my fingers.
“Wait,” the other alien said. “What if she’s injured?”
“She doesn’t look hurt.” Though he did pause and give me another once-over. “What say you, human? Do you want Hades to climb down here and give you a checkup first? Or would you rather get the fuck out of this graveyard?”
Of course the other one was Hades. I had to snicker. It was better than running screaming like a madwoman. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
Kharon grinned and hauled me up effortlessly, tossing me over his shoulder. “Close your eyes, human. Don’t look. Unless you want nightmares to keep you up the rest of your short, fucked-up life.”
I had to look. I couldn’t help it.
I had to know what I’d come from. Maybe there was a clue. Something that would remind me of who I was.
But then I looked, and I wished to god I hadn’t.
Dead. Bodies. Everywhere.
I stared in horror as he clamped his arm around my hips, keeping me locked firmly in place, and started climbing.
Up bodies.
A mass grave.
Actually, just a mangled pile of corpses with no rhyme or reason. None of us had been truly buried, just tossed into a ravine like so much rubbish. The pile stretched down behind us as far as I could see. An endless pile of the dead.
I couldn’t even begin to assess how many bodies. Not all of them looked human, either. Not after contracting the virus that had decimated the visiting aliens before we could develop a vaccine.
Then it had jumped to us.
How do I know this? Am I doctor? A scientist? But how did I get here?
Facts and data waited in my head. I even knew mortality rates once the mutated virus jumped back to the human population.
The survival rate had dropped to five percent once exposed. Literally just being in the same room with the virus had been deadly.
After infection…
Nobody survived. Not one.
For all I knew, I was the last human in America. On Earth. I had no idea.
How? How am I still alive?
Maybe I hadn’t been exposed.
A sound escaped my lips. Raw, jagged laugher. I’d just been buried beneath several feet of exposure.
“I told you not to fucking look.” Kharon heaved us up the last few feet and let me slide down to the ground beside him.
I couldn’t stop looking, my mind trying to comprehend. To count the bodies. Hundreds? Thousands? More?
“Do you know this place?” The other alien asked.
Even here, staring at what might be the largest mass grave ever to be used on Earth, I couldn’t resist the melodious tones of his voice. I glanced up at him, wordlessly trying to convey my horror and shock.
His long silver hair glinted in the sunlight like real metal, though it floated around his shoulders. His slight frame and delicate features definitely resembled an elf. He wore the same large sunglasses and dark clothing, though his sleeves were long to fully cover him. Actually, the only bit of skin exposed was his face. His cheekbones were angled and sharp, giving his face a triangular shape, though it didn’t detract from his beauty.
“She needs clothing.”
Until he said it, I didn’t realize I was naked. Honestly, I didn’t even know that I was female. I looked down at myself as if I’d never seen my body before.
Because I hadn’t. At least… not that I could remember.
I was slightly chubby and unfortunately pale, like I’d never gone outside in my life or done anything but push pencils or sit in a cubicle somewhere. I could already feel the sun heating up my skin. I’d have a terrible sunburn to rival the aliens’ delicate skin if I wasn’t careful.
But I had no memory of ever being outside. Had I never gone to a lake or a beach, where I’d needed sunscreen before? “Why can’t I remember anything?”
Khar
on dug around in a pack and threw some clothes into my lap. “Shock. Trauma. Give yourself some time, Eve.”
Dragging on the pants, I grumbled beneath my breath. “I’m not Eve.” The pants were huge, but at least I could cinch up the drawstring to keep them from sliding off. The T-shirt smelled surprisingly good, though strange and vaguely furry, as if a cat had used it for a pillow. “Eve was the first woman. I’m surely not the last. Am I? Have you seen other humans?”
“Not a one,” Kharon replied. I glanced up at him, relieved to see he’d turned around to give me some privacy. So had his friend. Chivalry wasn’t dead, even if the rest of the human race was.
I looked down at the chasm again and shuddered.
I had been buried alive beneath people who’d contracted a horrible alien virus that had killed them. Even now, that virus had to be attacking my cells. There was no way that I couldn’t be contagious.
I was dying. I just didn’t know it yet.
I dragged my gaze away from the pile of dead and searched the horizon. Mountains rose in the distance. We were in dry, arid foothills, but nothing seemed familiar. It could be South Dakota or Arizona or New Mexico. Or maybe even Utah or Montana. I had no idea.
I shaded my eyes against the sun, looking for any sign of life. Lights from a city. A landmark. Anything that I might recognize.
But not even buzzards wheeled above this gigantic pile of dead.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to wail and pound my fists on the dirt and throw my head back and scream with rage at the unfairness. The cruelty. So many dead. So much suffering. I couldn’t even wrap my mind around it.
Even though I was alive, I felt like I’d swallowed a ticking bomb. Any minute, I’d start feeling the effects of the virus.
Tales of the Apocalypse: A Dystopian Anthology Page 12