Alien Bride (Love, Drugs, and Biopunk)

by McGill, Brie

  Lilith bit her lip. “It’s been verified.”

  Aleister raised a hand. “Then, to avenge you!”

  Lilith covered her face with her hands. “He’s been trapped here, all this time, inside his head. His body escaped. . . but not his mind.”

  “I think he waited for me to organize an operation to blow this place.” Aleister rubbed his chin. “In the event that anything mucked up his plans, he could rest easily knowing that I would bury this facility's gate to the outside world behind him. In the event Orion's plans went wrong, I suspect suicide was his contingency plan.”

  Ninkasi grabbed Aleister’s arm. “Something did go wrong!”

  “You don’t know Brother the way that I do.” She trembled, words tumbling from her mouth in a hysterical worry. “I fear the agony that wrecks his mind, the obsessive contemplation that devours him.” Lilith stared at her feet.

  Aleister shrugged. “You’ll see him soon enough—”

  “No!” Lilith lifted her palm to silence him. “He must never know.”

  Ninkasi tilted her head. “Know what?”

  “He must never know that we met, that I have continued to exist here.” Her voice was dire.

  “Why not?” Ninkasi slowly turned her head to Aleister. “Isn’t it the reason he came here?”

  “You must help him.” She pointed a finger. “And you must let him think I was avenged.”

  Ninkasi didn’t know how to respond.

  “If he finds out I have existed here all this time. . . in this form. . . it will be his ruin.” Lilith shook her head with distress. “It will break him. It would drive him to depths of despair unimaginable.” She sighed.

  Ninkasi drew in a deep breath. “But what about you?”

  Lilith glanced at her. “I have told you already.”

  “No.” Ninkasi trekked after her. “You didn’t.”

  “I live here and die here. This is habitual. Whatever capacity for joy I knew died long ago.” Lilith quickened her pace. “I’m little more than a husk. There is a favor I must ask you. . . But not yet. Now is not the time.”

  Trapped inside the tank, he was powerless to stop her.

  Echidna walked to the edge of the room, scanned her hand, and blew him a kiss before exiting.

  The door slammed shut.

  Motors in the floor vibrated.

  Orion steadied himself with hands against the glass, feet planted firmly against the flat of the blades in the bottom of the tank.

  A compartment rolled open beneath him, erupting with a sick, squishing gurgle, spewing cold amber jelly from tubes at the bottom of the tank.

  Orion punched the wall.

  The jelly reeked of blood, making him ill.

  Even as a grown man, he lacked the strength to punch through the tank. He figured the tank was engineered that way, impossible to escape.

  Accumulating inside the chamber, the coalescing goo poured over the blades, filling up around his feet.

  He punched the tank again, with an angered sense of futility. He recalled his hopeless efforts at escape as a child, trapped in this damned tank.

  The gel climbed.

  He curled his lip, watching with disgust. It exhausted him to prolong the inevitable.

  The cool, sticky jelly climbed the tank and covered his ankles.

  Kicking his foot, he listened to the sloppy squish of the gooey substance.

  He wished the damn thing would fill faster; there was no sense in prolonging the agony.

  It no longer frightened him, having survived the procedure a number of times; it was how long Echidna planned to leave him in the tank that terrified him, what she planned to do with him when she removed him that made his stomach twist.

  If she removed him, if he wasn’t thrust down the human-size garborator. . .

  He could only pray for Aleister’s success. Aleister always delivered; now, he needed him to succeed, now more than ever.

  Orion shivered, feeling the gel rise to his knees.

  He sat down. There was nothing he could accomplish while trapped here.

  When he was submerged, the gel would fill his lungs. He would breathe whatever disgusting biological agents comprised the gel. Its filth and corruption would fill him completely; his body would be intimately violated with whatever unnatural ingredients Echidna selected for use upon him.

  And then the gel would sedate him, force him slowly to sleep.

  Not to sleep—into a haze of nightmares. He would forget his body, and live as if he were in a dream; his consciousness would melt through his body, into the gel, eventually pooling beyond the tank; then it would shatter into a million tiny pieces and fly throughout the universe.

  He could hear anything, anywhere.

  If she were truly alive. . . perhaps this could be one way to find her.

  The jelly climbed over his knees, up to his neck.

  Orion reclined against the side of the tank. If he passed out now, when Aleister blew the facility he would die in his sleep.

  It was an easy way out, considering he was trapped in the clutches of Echidna.

  He couldn’t believe that she was here, alive.

  Lilith.

  ❧　❧　❧

  The boy flicked on all the lights and stared at himself in the mirror, terrified and disgusted. His eyes were huge, pupils dilated to unnatural proportions; his face was paper-white, soaked with sweat and blood.

  He couldn’t stop himself from shaking. There was blood all over his face.

  He glanced down at his body: blood on his hands, blood all over his cloak, blood on the floor.

  Panicked thoughts ripped through his head: there was likely blood inside the ID box; he’d have to clean it.

  How? He hadn’t anticipated the messy aftermath; he had only obsessed over the means and the moment.

  He shucked the sticky, soiled clothes from his body, and tossed them in the tub. Quaking, he cranked the faucet for a hot shower, and stumbled inside.

  His whole body was inundated with blood, the monster’s blood, the monster’s stench.

  Would it wash away?

  He sank against the wall, collapsing into a squat. He tucked his knees into his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. He hung his head and shut his eyes, still shaking, and felt the hot water pelt against his head, washing away a river of red.

  After scrubbing the last of the blood from the biometrics box to his personal satisfaction, the boy exited his chamber in a clean, white pair of cotton pajamas.

  Nothing would ever make him clean. Nothing would absolve him of his sins. Nothing would erase the invisible mark on his soul Andrealphus left when he entered his body.

  Nothing would free her from her own torment, for that matter.

  He took solace in knowing that she was safe.

  Her quarters were down the hall, adjacent to his own. He inserted a thoroughly-washed hand into the box outside her door, and dragged his feet into her bedroom, exhaustion immense.

  She didn’t notice his entry; she slept on her side peacefully, like an angel, beneath down blankets.

  The boy climbed into bed with her, snuggling up behind her and locking his arms around her middle.

  She jumped, startled, rolling over defensively and securing the blanket over her body. “What—Who—”

  The boy squeezed her arm. “It’s me.”

  She sat up, trying to see him in the dark.

  “Don’t worry about me.” His voice wavered; every word made him raw. “Go back to sleep.”

  “What are you doing here?” There was disapproval in her voice; she rustled the quilt and adjusted her head on the pillow.

  The boy rested his head on her shoulder, tentatively locking an arm over her stomach.

  She pushed his arm away.

  He buried his face into her shoulder. “I had a nightmare.”

  Her body relaxed; she emanated confusion. “Aren’t you. . . way too old to be doing this?”

  He shivered, a lump rising in his throat, feel
ing the threat of tears. “No.” He squeezed her, pressing his body against her, holding her tighter than he’d ever held anyone in his life. “No, I’m not.”

  She rested a hand on his forehead and stroked fingers through his hair.

  A wave of heat rushed through his body. His mind replayed flashes of her unclothed body, and the way she had been violated, all that was done to her. He tried to force the images from his mind.

  He blushed, and pulled her hand away from his face, interlocking his fingers with hers. “Please let me stay here. Just for tonight.” He felt her soft, warm skin against his face, smelled the roses and sandalwood in her hair.

  She sighed.

  He wouldn’t release her hand.

  “You’re serious.” She sat up.

  His hands searched for the blanket, and he crawled beneath the covers with her. “Dead serious.”

  She stared at him through the dark. “Just this once.” She rolled over, turning her back to him, withholding her approval. “No snoring. No stealing the blankets.”

  He spooned her, pressing his nose into her neck, feeling the soft fabric of his pajamas sweeping over her bare legs. Now he knew her body was beautiful in ways he never would have imagined on his own.

  She shifted, pulling her legs away from him. She wore a one-piece lace nightie that cut off at her thighs, with thin shoulder straps. “What kind of nightmare, anyway?”

  He scooted closer, his face in the crook her neck, speaking into her ear. “A bad one.”

  She turned to face him, so their noses touched. “Can you get over it?”

  He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his cheek against her back. “I don’t know.”

  She shook her head and turned away. “How old are you, seriously?”

  He bit his lip. “I’m a man.” Fatherless, husbandless, she had no one to protect her; he stepped up to the plate and killed for her. That made him a man.

  “Almost.” She laughed, nestling her head into the pillow.

  She was oblivious to the shredded, bloody corpse in the other room. She had no idea what had transpired.

  He was uncertain of all matters concerning the afterlife, good and evil, virtue and sin; he understood murder was a grievous act not to be undertaken lightly, and, in murdering for her, he may or may not have irrevocably impacted how he would spend eternity.

  This made her belong uniquely to him. If there were consequences for his actions, so be it; but he stood by his decision, and would defend it through death. He killed in her defense; he killed to protect the weak.

  No one else had killed for her; no one else would give her that unwavering level of commitment. He would throw his soul away to protect her; if the universe didn’t approve, he wanted nothing to do with a universe devoid of justice. He let his own sense of justice govern his actions.

  The longer he lay beside her, the more he felt it was best never to tell her. He listened to the rhythm of her heart, felt the rise and fall of her chest; despite all the suffering and humiliation she endured, when she was left to herself, she retained the perfect image of serenity.

  Now, he vowed, Andrealphus would have to wreck that serenity over his dead body. It was his duty to provide for her as a man, in honor, in protection, in love.

  They were safe together.

  She curled halfway into fetal position, sleepily planting her hips against him.

  He rolled onto his back, still resting deliciously against her. He angled his body away to conceal the swelling desire to worship her with all the tenderness and careful attention she never knew.

  At her attacker’s hands, it had been all violence, perversion, and cruelty.

  If she ever allowed it, he would show her differently. He fought for her like a man; he loved her like a man.

  ❧　❧　❧

  Lilith gripped Ninkasi’s wrist with a cold hand. “From this point on, you must remain close to me.”

  The trio stood before an enormous vaulted door at the end of a black hallway, with only the crimson glowing light of the skull’s bejeweled eyes to guide them.

  Lilith turned to Aleister. “Do not speak. Avoid making yourselves known at all costs.” She approached the biometrics device, and collapsed against the wall. “This is where. . .” Her shoulders heaved with a labored breath. “This is where. . . the Tall Ones reside. . .”

  Ninkasi turned to Lilith, feeling her forehead; the girl’s skin was ice cold. “Are you okay?”

  “You mustn’t anger them.” She closed her eyes. “You mustn’t draw their attention.”

  Aleister’s hand tensed around the guns on his belt. “For as much as I’ve prepared, I never thought they’d invite me to their nest.”

  Ninkasi narrowed her eyes, pointing at the door. “You knew about this place?”

  “No.” Aleister shook his head. “I knew about the Tall Ones, but not this building.”

  “Where could you learn about something like this?!” She balled a fist.

  “I joined The Brotherhood.” He flicked her forehead.

  She raised an eyebrow, planting a hand on her hip.

  He shrugged. “It’s basic family history.”

  Ninkasi dug her fingers into her skull. “Family?!”

  “Distant family.” Aleister shrugged. "Muffin, we went over this. My great-great-greatest grandma banged an alien."

  Gritting her teeth, Ninkasi squinted her eyes and frantically shook her head back and forth.

  He lifted a finger. "Possibly for money." Grinning, he flicked the emerald ring on his necklace and winked.

  Ninkasi glanced at Lilith, slumped against the wall with her eyes shut, and noticed her bird-like hand: six fingers.

  “Consider yourself fortunate.” Aleister patted Ninkasi on the head.

  Shutting her eyes, she balled both fists. “Why?”

  He rubbed his knuckles over her head. “Your grandma had higher standards.”

  Ninkasi slapped his hand away.

  Lilith pushed herself to her feet, and inserted her hand into the ID box. “We go.”

  Heart pounding, Ninkasi observed the splendor behind the vaulted doors with wide eyes: crossing the threshold, she stepped from the dank storage cellar of a high-tech, underground, twenty-four-hour research facility, into a shimmering mirage from another dimension.

  Tilting her head, she blinked: everything was gold. The floor tiles, the bricks in the wall, the ceiling, the decoration, all of it was shimmering, sparkling, shiny gold. “What is this place?”

  Lilith’s little hands pushed into her back, shoving her along. “Stay close to me. Be silent.”

  Aleister lifted a hand to the back of his head. “Roger.”

  She scowled.

  Ninkasi turned her head in awe, drinking up the surreal milieu.

  “We must clear this floor as quickly as possible.” Lilith zoomed ahead. “Our greatest risk of encountering danger is here.”

  Aleister strutted along, stretching as he walked, unphased by the change in surroundings. His hood hung over his eyes, but his round cheeks and rough, pointy goatee poked out for all to see.

  An ominous feeling swept through Ninkasi, and she tugged the veil further over her face. She felt like a kind of danger threatened her in this place that Aleister couldn’t possibly understand.

  Maybe it was because he had ‘clearance.’ Clearance for what, because of what, she didn’t fully understand. A prestigious lineage? What was this, a more secretive and better-funded version of The Brotherhood?

  Fresh meat—that's what she felt like. Live bait, squirming on a hook. An injured animal lying on the ground, writhing in agony as the vultures swooped down to leisurely pick it to death.

  Bad feelings. Ninkasi shook her head, following Lilith down the next gleaming corridor.

  A screaming young man sprinted down the hallway, naked. Genuine terror warped his face, slicked with sweat.

  Ninkasi leapt from his path, pressing herself close to the wall, hearing a stampede of frenzied footsteps.

>   Behind him, a troupe of figures in black robes, black hoods, silently galloped in pursuit. Those in the front brandished leather whips with riveted tassels, slapping, mushing, scourging him along.

  The youth’s entire backside oozed fresh blood, split open by a flurry of lashes.

  Ninkasi backed against the wall, horrified.

  Aleister stood stalwart in the center of the hall.

  The fleeting stampede of hooded revenants filed around him, like water flowing around a boulder obstructing the center of a stream, and disappeared around the corner, in search of their prey.

  Aleister clapped his hands, signaling for Ninkasi to follow.

  She adjusted her veil and bolted after Lilith.

  “There you are!”

  Ninkasi froze.

  Aleister had the guts to turn around.

  Lilith stood still and raised her shoulders, tilting her head in anticipation of a strike.

  “Insolent bitch!” A heinously tall man, tall with shoulders above Aleister’s head, stormed toward Lilith, and cracked her across the face.

  She yelped, lifting a hand to her cheek.

  “You’re late!” The giant, caked with hideous clown-like makeup, yanked Lilith by the hair and scowled.

  Ninkasi’s heart raced: she didn’t know what to do. She smelled stale booze on the giant, tinged with a rusty, coppery scent. She noticed his sharp, filed nails, and viciously filed teeth, in horrific contrast to his cosmopolitan silk suit.

  Lilith had warned her to do precisely nothing in any event: did her warning include right now?

  What could Ninkasi do in the face of an enormous terror?

  Observing the situation closely, Aleister skulked behind him.

  “Your science is riddled with approximations.” Lilith gritted her teeth, staring at the floor. “You get what you want when it comes and that’s it.”

  The giant hovered over her, face twisted in a ghoulish grimace. Clutching a fistful of her hair, he refused to release her.

  Lilith leaned backward so he didn’t pull her hair. “Release me, lest you spoil another experiment.”

  “You already spoiled another experiment!” He threw her against the wall with inhuman strength.