by McGill, Brie
The thick paint moistening his lips, he thought of her lips, thought of this same lipstick glossing her lips, and shivered. He suspected this ritual kept her lips soft, so soft.
He smacked his lips and stared into the mirror, blankly musing on the ring of pink around his face. He hadn’t followed the shape of his lips exactly; makeup was a curious science.
Baring his teeth, he grinned superficially: the lipstick smeared all over his teeth.
Orion closed the lipstick and returned it to the drawer, slumping in the chair.
A murky black cloud of emotion swelled in his stomach and floated into his chest.
He stood up, trying to ignore the feeling, and wandered to her bed.
He sat on the edge of the bed, as he had done in the past so many times.
Only, this was the first time he sat on the edge of her bed and she was nowhere to be found.
She was dead.
This was the first time he sat on the edge of her bed since she was dead.
He shimmied backward, sinking into the soft mattress, swamped with memories. He grabbed her pillow and pressed it against his face, smelling it.
Uncanny, how it smelled like her, still, after all this time.
Maybe he imagined it. Maybe it was the drugs.
He hugged the pillow into his chest.
He never had the chance to mourn; he never had the chance to make his peace.
He couldn’t make his peace with Andrealphus on the loose: he had to kill him. There was no other way to end his reign of cruelty, his madness.
The black cloud of doom condensed into a lump and rose into his throat. Orion turned around, sitting in the middle of the bed, and tucked his knees into his chest, hugging the pillow tighter.
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fucking fair that she had to die like this.
Orion buried his face in the pillow. She had never harmed anyone.
He was the brat, the liar. He never accomplished anything to help her, try as he might.
He had to live with this, her death; he had no idea what it was supposed to mean, or what he was supposed to do without her.
There was no one he could trust. There was no one he could feel close to, in wake of her loss.
His chest cracked open, a million forgotten pains flowing to the surface.
He didn’t know anything.
Hors d'Oeuvres
XIV.
The trio plodded through a wide hall, a winding downward spiral, their feet sinking into lush carpet with geometric patterns in midnight blue, black, and jade. They passed doors in regular intervals on either side of the hall; every door had a knocker, the blade of the emblematic bident; each door was numbered in a multiple of six.
“Lilith!” Aleister leapt ahead of them, grabbing her shoulder.
The girl studied him with wide eyes.
“Don’t. . . move!” He wound his hand behind his head and cracked her across the face.
Lilith lurched forward and cradled her face, wincing against the impact.
“Aleister—What—” Ninkasi grabbed his wrist. “What are you doing?!”
Brushing his hands together with a satisfied nod, Aleister scraped away the remains of a hornet.
“Did you have to smash it?!” Ninkasi planted her hands on her hips.
“It was a hornet.” Aleister wiped his hands against his hips. “It would have stung her.”
“But did you have to smash it. . . against her face?” Ninkasi threw a hand into the air.
“And what if she had an allergic reaction?!” Aleister pointed a finger. “Those fuckers are huge! Don’t you know where we are?”
Ninkasi poked him in the forehead. “Don’t you think getting slapped by someone twice your size hurts more than getting stung?”
“Those aren’t normal hornets.” He swatted at the air. “They’ve been created here. They’re a pestilence.” Aleister swung his arm and pulled Ninkasi into his chest.
Ninkasi grimaced, her face smashed against his robes, smelling cinnamon, feeling damp mansweat.
“I’ll keep you safe.” He squeezed her, like a jungle snake constricting its prey. “I’ll protect you!”
Ninkasi gasped for air. “Like you protected Lilith?” She broke away from his grasp and scanned for her.
Lilith continued her trek through the hall, ignoring the squabble.
Ninkasi scuttled after her. “How big is this place?”
“There are thirteen tiers in the facility.” Lilith pointed ahead. “Some tiers are larger than others. They are keeping Brother somewhere in the final three. . . depending on what they want to use him for.”
“That’s. . .” Ninkasi lifted a hand to the back of her head. “Reassuring?”
“You know what they say.” Aleister above his head and stretched. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“There is no pavement here, Aleister.” Ninkasi lifted an eyebrow. “It’s carpet.” She trudged ahead. “Old and ugly retro carpet.”
Lilith frowned. “It smells like Brussels sprouts.”
Aleister scrunched his nose.
The thud of heavy footsteps interrupted them: a naked man rounded the corner, smashing headfirst into Ninkasi. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he tackled her to the floor.
Ninkasi crashed into the ugly carpet with a dull thud. “What are you—” She grabbed his shoulders and fought to force him off her. He reeked of sweaty terror and bleach.
The man pinned her to the floor with grey, emaciated arms. Though young, weathered skin clung to his beaten frame as if something had stolen his years, sapped the vitality from his body. “Help me!” He trembled, his plea a hysterical rasp.
Her fingers dug into clammy skin, pushing against his shoulders, battling to hoist him up so she could shimmy away from him. “Get off me!”
Aleister plucked the man off Ninkasi and restrained him, standing behind him, arms locked around his chest.
The man grunted, lurching forward.
Lilith pressed her lips together, observing with grim detachment.
Ninkasi brushed herself off and climbed to her feet.
“Please!” The man threw his head back and went limp in Aleister’s arms, swatting at the empty space around him. “Don’t leave me! Don’t let them take me—”
“Who?” Ninkasi crossed her arms. “What’s wrong?”
Aleister scrunched his lips in a sideways look of disapproval. “Why are you naked?”
Ninkasi studied the man’s legs, his back, riddled with the fresh lacerations of a whip. “What happened to you?”
The man buckled and sank in Aleister’s grip, vigorously shaking his head. “I’m an hors d'oeuvre.” He looked at Ninkasi with round, despairing eyes. “A battery.” His teeth chattered. “I can’t take it anymore—” He wilted over Aleister’s arms and laughed.
Lilith turned her back.
“But you!” He pointed a quivering hand at Ninkasi. “You aren’t like them. You’re different!” He grinned with a terrifying joy, an empty elation, a dead man’s delight.
Aleister shook his head and sighed. “Buddy, you’re fucked.”
“They have hundreds!” The man heaved and pointed at Ninkasi, fixated with her. “Hundreds like you! Hundreds from the surface, who never suspected a thing!” He rocked back and forth, against Aleister’s arms. “They’re downstairs, all of them!”
“This isn’t why we came.” Lilith crossed her arms. “Time is precious.”
“Don’t trust that one.” The man pointed at Lilith. “She’ll eat you alive.” He looked over his shoulder at Aleister. “And you wouldn’t do a thing to stop her.”
Ninkasi put a hand on her forehead. “What are you talking about?”
“Shackles!” The man pointed at the ceiling. “Chains!” His head dropped back and he bubbled with laughter. “Pillories! They want the blood!”
Ninkasi turned, hearing footsteps approaching in the hall.
“You have to help us!” The man railed against Alei
ster. “They’re coming, they’re coming!” He rocked in his arms and refused to stand on his own, laughing and babbling incoherently.
Two smartly-dressed adults rounded the corner, immediately locking their hands and bowing, recognizing the figure of Lilith.
She remained silent, watching them with cold eyes.
“Miss Lilith, forgive us!” A woman in a firetruck-red blazer bowed.
“One of our patients has escaped and appears to be troubling you!” A man in a matching suit and black tie bowed to her.
“This one?” Lilith pointed at the naked man, wriggling against Aleister’s solid grasp.
“Don’t touch me!” The man heaved and squirmed, fighting to break free. “Don’t let them touch me!” He threw his head back, tears welling in his eyes. “You have to understand me!” He pointed at Ninkasi. “You’re not like them! You have to understand!”
Ninkasi shook her head, troubled. The man made no sense to her.
“A thousand thanks to you and your guests, Miss Lilith.” The woman reached into her breastpocket and procured a needle. “This one is unusually energetic, but we can calm him down.”
“He can be yours if you want him.” The man flashed Lilith an enterprising smile. “Or perhaps your guests might enjoy him.”
Lilith curled her lip with disgust.
“Have a heart!” The wilted man screeched, extending his hand toward Ninkasi. “Have some empathy! You know what they’ll do to me! You know what—”
The professional-looking woman rammed the needle into the man’s arm, injecting him.
The man collapsed in Aleister’s arms.
Removing her needle, she tucked it neatly into her pocket, bowing her head once more. “Your forgiveness, my lady.”
“And many thanks.” The man approached Aleister, crouched on the floor, and hoisted the unconscious man over his shoulders.
Ninkasi was horrified. She had no idea what went on in this place. She felt a swirling sense of dread in the pit of her stomach.
The man stood up, keeping the captive slung on his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. “This one escaped during treatment.”
The woman smiled, her teeth a bleached white, her lips a matte apple red. “We’re pioneering cutting-edge medical breakthroughs to cure mental handicaps.”
“This man is one of our newest patients.” The man adjusted the weight on his shoulders and smiled.
Ninkasi wondered if the man filed his incisors to a point, or if his teeth naturally grew that way.
“Unfortunately, the treatments take time.” The woman nodded. “And they require careful surveillance.”
Lilith extended a dainty arm and pointed down the hall. “Begone.”
The woman bowed. “Yes, my lady.”
“Excuse us, my lady.” The man tipped his head forward.
The two turned around and marched down the corridor.
Ninkasi glanced to Aleister, and then to Lilith. “What was that?”
Aleister pointed a finger, and opened his mouth, stumped.
“Nefarious things.” Lilith shook her head. “Too many to count.”
“Could we have helped him?” Ninkasi moved toward Lilith, and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Is it true, what they’ve said? Has he gone insane?”
“He has gone insane.” Lilith spun around, laughing loudly, bitterly, a black laugh that cut to the bone. “But I guarantee he was well before they took him.”
She marched in front of Lilith, throwing out her hands. “And you let them take him back?!”
“Did you come to help Brother?” She poked a bony finger into Ninkasi’s chest. “Or did you come to start a war you cannot win?”
“I. . . think she has a point.” Aleister stepped forward. “This place is huge, it’s underground, and we’re outsiders. We can’t make enemies with everyone we meet.”
“Didn’t that whole encounter give you a terrible feeling?” Ninkasi pressed a palm to her stomach. “I’m supposed to ignore that?”
“You may leave.” Lilith pointed up the hall. “Those two were humane.”
“I’m not leaving.” Ninkasi crossed her arms.
“Then do not complain.” Lilith turned her back. “Do not interfere with our objective. We must follow it precisely if you are to get what you want.” She tilted her head. “Any deviation will result in your annihilation. There is worse to come.”
“Karen.” Lilith nodded, baring a flash of teeth in a hostile smile at the woman behind the elevator doors.
The woman, hanging her head, dressed in the staple black robes of this bizarre universe. “Madam, you know I am unable to serve you if you’re dealing with ones from above.”
“Karen.” Lilith strode forward in a mighty step, seizing the woman by the throat with her little white hand. “I shall pass, however, with whomever I please. How dare you question my authority?”
Spinning around, the woman hastily inputted a series of codes into the elevator with a trembling hand.
Aleister and Ninkasi stepped inside.
The doors rolled shut behind them, marking their departure further into the earth.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Echidna’s rough voice echoed through the hall, tormenting him.
Orion froze. If he had half his wits about him, he would have run.
The room trembled when he walked. Whatever sedatives he was given were long-acting; his body felt weightless, like cotton, like taffy. He felt a surreal detachment from the present circumstance.
He knew he had to leave: there was still a chance he could reunite with Aleister. He plodded onward, unsteadily, catching himself against the wall, as if walking through a dream.
He needed to kill Echidna with his own hands—he didn’t trust any amount of explosives would do the job.
After he killed her, he would blow this place straight to hell, bury it, bury the nightmares it evoked for everyone ever trapped here. He tried to keep his thoughts straight.
His hand tensed around the surgical knife in his hand: suspecting he was too drugged to fight well, he held only the element of surprise in his favor.
“You’re wanted on the operating table.” The clack of her pointy heels on the tile stopped behind him.
Orion didn’t turn around.
“I suggest you come with me.” She placed a hand on his shoulder.
Orion spun around, concealing the weapon inside his palm. “Or what?”
“I’ll release you when we’re finished.” She adjusted her hat. “Do your mother a favor.”
He glanced sideways. “You aren’t my mother.”
“I” —planting a finger under his chin, she lifted his head— “am your creator.”
Swatting her arm away, he raised the surgical knife above his head. “You’re a destroyer!” He swung down, aiming for her neck.
With lightning-swift reflexes, Echidna intercepted his wrist, redirecting it with unnerving force. “I wouldn’t do that.” Her strength was incredible, inhuman.
His eyes followed the sound of footsteps, detecting someone’s approach from an intersecting hallway.
Andrealphus appeared, wearing a sea-green suit with pink hem. In his arms, he transported a lifeless body.
Orion’s jaw dropped.
Lilith.
Impossible.
She wore a white nightgown, her head tipping backward over his supporting arm, her long raven hair sweeping against the floor. She was tiny, delicate, more fragile than he remembered.
Orion stepped forward, lunging at Echidna, pointing the blade at her throat. “This is a lie.”
“It’s true.” Andrealphus smiled, his lips rouged a disgusting shade of pink that matched the detail in his suit. “She breathes.”
“She is dead.” Orion pushed the tip of the blade against Echidna’s skin. “She’s been dead!”
“Drop the knife.” Echidna glanced at the lifeless girl. “Or anything you do to me, he will do to her ten times over.”
Orion threw the knife at the
ground. “What have you done?” Clenching his fists, he shut his eyes.
Andrealphus cleared his throat. “Echidna, you do realize, this one won’t animate until the previous copy has been—”
“It will be finished soon enough.” She bared her teeth, snapping fingers. “Expiration is inevitable. If it doesn’t expire upon replication, terminate it, and begin the next experiment.” She strode to Andrealphus, and grabbed the unconscious Lilith by the hair, lifting her head. She shrugged. “Use this one next, if you like.”
Orion trembled at the sight of her; a wave of dizziness swept through him, and he collapsed against the wall. “What have you done. . .?”
“You’re in no condition to escape.” Echidna returned to his side. “Frankly, I’m astounded you’re conscious.”
He stared ruefully at the knife on the floor. He should have stabbed her; it would have been poetic.
Lilith.
“Now.” Echidna rammed her finger into Orion’s back. “March back to your room, or Andrealphus will get angry.”
He bit his lip, focusing on his breath. He needed a plan, a way out.
Lilith would leave with him: there was no other choice. They would leave together if she were dead, if she were a monster, he didn’t care.
They were both monsters. Together, they could find refuge; he could protect her, give her the care she deserved.
Or the burial she deserved.
He wanted to weep.
Andrealphus traced a sharp nail along her neck, superficially slicing a shallow surface cut. “She is real.” Running his finger along the cut, he licked his finger. “She bleeds.”
“Move!” Echidna prodded him. “Otherwise, Andrealphus will do something terrible, and. . .” She clicked her nails with a crooked smile. “You can watch.”
Ninkasi stood at the end of a dark hall that reminded her of a warehouse, with concrete walls, high ceilings crisscrossed with metal bars, dangling industrial tube lights. Ventilation fans humming, metal parts sliding and clacking, machinery grinding, the sounds of the room created an anxious symphony. Ahead of them, two conveyor belts—one moving forward, one moving backward—alternately abducted and vomited passengers from the uncertain blackness of the hall. The belts moved slowly, passing under a series of sterling metal arches flashing with lights.