by Anna Lewis
“Thank you.”
I can feel his eyes on my back as I leave the store and disappear around the corner. Like he said, the bathroom is at the back of the building. In any other circumstance, I would never go back here, but there isn’t any room in my mind to worry about my safety.
I enter the bathroom and lock the door behind me. My nose is bombarded with horrid smells, but I push forward. I remove both of the sticks from the boxes and give them both a sample at the same time. I spend the next two minutes praying to the universe to let them both come back negative. If they don’t, if they somehow come back positive, then I truly need to reevaluate my life. I pace back and forth in the small room, ignoring the questionable substances under my feet.
After an eternity, I slowly make my way to the sink where I left the tests, facedown. I close my eyes and flip them both over. I bite the inside of my lip, send out one last prayer, and open my eyes.
First test: positive.
Second test: positive.
My knees betray me and I’m on the ground. My eyes fill with tears, blurring my vision. My heart punches against my chest, so hard it hurts. I can’t control my breathing. I’m falling in a spiral of tears and short breaths and an aching body. I’m having a panic attack, something that I haven’t experienced since the day that Adam slammed the door and left my life forever.
Three loud bangs erupt from the other side of the door.
Through my minor convulsions, I manage to say, “Occupied.”
Three more bangs fill my ears.
“I said it’s occupied!” I scream, my panic slowly leaving and anger taking its place.
“You’re carrying my child!” A voice calls from outside.
Disbelief consumes me. The accent, an awkward mashup of British and Southern. I’ve only heard it once before, in that trashy bar. In my drunken stupor, we spent a night together. I yearned for an artificial taste of love and he delivered just that, a distraction. But that was over half a year ago, in another city.
I stand and wobble towards the door. I can’t open it, too afraid of what I might find on the other side. If it is the man that I think it is, I just don’t think I can take it.
“It’s okay, love. You can open it.”
I don’t know why, but I do. And, as I expected, I can’t take it and I fall into darkness.
I regain consciousness before I open my eyes. I’m sitting in an upright position on a cushioned surface, the air around me is chilled. Before I open my eyes, I try to stretch my legs in preparation to run, but they don’t move. My eyes fly open and I’m staring at a door, unable to move my head down to figure out why my legs aren’t working. I’m about to scream out before I remember the last person I saw before I blacked out. The man from six months ago, the man who claims that I’m carrying his child.
I push the panic as far down as I can manage and I survey the room that I’m trapped in. It’s a luxury room, with ceiling high windows to my left and right. Directly in front of me is the wall that contains the door, the only exit for the room. I can just make out the undeniable views of New York City in my peripheral vision. I know that I’m pretty high up because I can see the tops of tall buildings all around me. I want to move, but I can’t. I try to wiggle my toes, my fingers, anything, but I’m frozen. I’m on a couch, that much I can tell, sitting straight up like I’m being interviewed or something. The paralysis claws at my mind, commanding all of my attention. My body betrays my mind and I let out a long, fear-filled scream.
I hear footsteps from the other side of the closed door and then it opens. There he is, in all of his six-foot-something glory. The light behind him halos his body, giving him an almost angelic look. His hair is wet, falling almost to his shoulders. His eyes just as purple as I remember. The only thing preventing him from being fully nude is the towel wrapped around his waist, just beneath his perfectly chiseled abdomen. Now that I see him with no alcohol poisoning my bloodstream and clouding my mind, I see that he’s truly other-worldly.
***
“You’re up earlier than I expected,” he says, indiscernible accent still intact. He leans against the doorframe and cocks his head to the side in an examining manner, eyes locked on mine. “Couldn’t even finish my shower.”
“Why can’t I move,” I say, trying my best to keep my voice steady, but I can feel my chest falling and rising with intense pressure. “What did you do to me?”
“Don’t panic, love,” the man says, “I’ll take it away. But you have to promise to stay here while I go change. Can you do that?”
His offer is laughable. But I have no other choice but to nod my head. He smiles, flashing his perfect set of teeth in my direction. A small glass of water rests on the table adjacent to the door. He grabs the glass and approaches me. I consider attacking him when I regain my movement, but that wouldn’t work out too well. He probably carries my weight in muscle alone. I’ll let him leave the room and then I’ll make a dash for the nearest exit.
He puts the water to my lips and I say, “Don’t you have to give me a pill or something before the water?”
“This isn’t water,” he says, a smirk painted on his face. It’s a cocky thing, like the half-smile itself is saying that he’s better than everyone else. “Please, drink it.”
I open my lips and let the foreign liquid slide down my throat. The chilled liquid seems to be absorbed straight into my bloodstream. I can practically feel it as it courses through my body, freeing me from paralysis slowly but surely. I move my toes first, then my ankles and wrists. Soon I can feel my legs and arms. When I’m in total control again, I ask, “Who are you?”
He turns and puts the glass back onto the metal table. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns partially and says, “The name’s Zander Olgarian.”
I’m at the door almost as soon as it closes, listening. His footsteps become fainter until they disappear completely after another door closes. I open my door, peek out, and dash down the thin corridor. The walls are completely bare. In fact, the entire apartment is empty. I pass by two other doors on my way to the common area. I spot the door on the other side of the large opening where the living room and dining room should be and it commands all of my attention. I reach the tall oak door, turn the metal knob, and yank it open. A hand reaches over my head, stopping the door in its tracks. I scream and spin away from the man.
“I don’t know what you want from me, but please if you just let me go I won’t tell anyone, I swear it.”
He’s dressed now, which seems impossible considering we were both in my room just seconds ago. His hair is still wet, dripping water droplets onto his white shirt. His legs are covered in expensive-looking jeans, feet bare. “I’m not going to hurt you, Eliana.”
“How the hell do you know my name?” I ask, backing way. There’s a fire poker by the fireplace to my right. “How?!”
“We’ve met before,” he says, raising his hands. After a short burst of laughter, he says, “I’m sure you didn’t forget that night.”
I’m almost close enough to the fire poker. “So what if I do?” I say, taking a few more steps back.
Before he can reply, I lunge for the fire poker, secure it, and swing it straight at his face. In one graceful motion, he grabs the poker and twists it out of my hand. Another seemingly impossible move. My dad told me about these products of government experiments that were capable of incredible feats. Mostly I dismissed his claims, but there was always a part of me that believed him. My mind has always been drawn to the improbable, the fantasy. That would explain his purple eyes and unknown accent.
“What are you?” I say, my back against the fireplace. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I plan on telling you everything that you need to know, love,” he says as he walks closer. “But I’m going to need you to have an open-mind.”
“No, I’m going to need you to tell me the damn truth.”
“You ready for the truth, Eliana?” Zander says, running his fingers through his dam
p hair. “You sure?”
I nod.
He turns and walks toward the luxury kitchen. There are two bar stools at the counter and he turns them to face each other. He gestures towards the chairs and says, “Well?”
I pull my chair a few more feet away from his before taking a seat. He smiles that same arrogant smile and sits opposite me. “Here goes nothing,” he begins after a long sigh. “I’m a prince.”
I don’t know where it comes from, but I laugh, a loud, true laugh. The laugh is probably a coping mechanism for the jarring fear that takes over me when I realize that I’m being held hostage by a maniac.
“It’s no laughing matter,” he says, irritation written all over his face and in his tensed muscles. “I didn’t tell a joke.”
“Okay, Mr. Zander,” I say as I put my elbows on the counter. “Prince of what country?”
“Not a country. A planet.” He’s not joking, that much I can see. He must truly believe in what he says. “A planet in the Andromeda Galaxy, just next door.”
I’ve read about situations like this, when a disturbed man kidnaps a woman and forces her to play along in his fantasy world. The best way for me to ensure my survival is to play along, wait until he sleeps and then make my grand escape.
I turn to face him. “And why are you here, Prince Zander?”
He points to my stomach and says, “To create my heir.”
At his words, I remember what he said through the bathroom door. The sentence that made me open the door, that sparked my curiosity so much that I went against every part of me to do so.
“Six months ago, we were intimate,” Zander continues, scooting his chair closer. “I impregnated you, Eliana.”
I want to run from him or attack him or anything but sit here. But I sit and I stare into his lavender eyes. I don’t know why, but the fear starts to leak from my body, leaving me swimming in a calm sea. That fantastical part of me takes over and I say, “But that was over six months ago.”
“We’re not the same species, Elaina. We’re close enough that we can procreate, but the whole process is different than what you’re used to. The baby has been developing for the past six months, but at a very slow pace. For the next four months it will grow at an accelerated rate until it’s ready to be birthed. I know this might all sound crazy, but we’ve been doing this since the beginning of your species.”
“Doing what? Impregnating my species with your alien babies?”
“Eliana,” Zander says. He rests his hands on knees. My trust for him only grows when he touches me and again, I don’t know why. “We created your species. Long ago, my species created yours and planted you here. We engineered you all to be our perfect mating partners. The offspring of my kind and yours are stronger than you can imagine. Whenever we need more of the hybrids in our kingdoms, we return to Earth to create some.”
“What are you doing to me?” I ask. “Why can’t I help but trust you?”
Zander backs away and laughs. “Just an old trick passed down in my family. Nothing more than my charm, really.”
When he looks away and his hands fall from my knee, the mystical trance is broken and I no longer feel obligated to put my trust in him. It was like I was under a spell or something, some type of hypnosis maybe. At this point I don’t know what to think of him. He’s crazy, that much is obvious, but his eyes and accent and freakishly fast reflexes still don’t quite add up. And still, buried deep down in the darkest recesses of my mind, I believe him. After all, three tests did read positive and he was the last person that I had sex with.
“So what, you’re going to steal my baby away from me when it’s born?”
“Of course not,” Zander says, his eyes finding mind again. “I’m not that much of an asshole. The baby won’t survive here. This planet doesn’t have the right resources to sustain such a powerful being. So, if you care for the baby at all, you’ll willingly let me take him. You may come along if you please, or you can stay here and the baby and I will visit you every so often.”
“This is crazy,” I say, pushing out of my chair, fingers rubbing at my temples. “This is all so damn crazy. I can’t do this.”
Zander grabs my hand and twists me towards him. He pulls a small device from his pocket and places it on the countertop. It looks like a tiny cellphone or something. He presses a button on its shiny black surface and then we’re transported to another world.
I’m standing in a jungle, but it’s unlike anything here on Earth. The trees seem to scrape against the sky, trunks wide enough for three cars to drive through. The vegetation is also super-sized; the grass is almost at my waist and the flowers tower over me. Everything feels so real that for a second I think that I’m actually in some foreign forest, but then I look down at my feet and the oak floorboards of Zander’s apartment are beneath them. That device is like some virtual reality or something.
Just as I’m about to walk forward, I’m teleported again, this time to a cliff. I’m overlooking a massive body of water, a body of red water. It looks as if the sea is made up of blood.
“Look up,” I hear Zander say. I can’t see him, but his voice is so near. “Look towards the sky.”
My head lifts upward and I also fall over by what I see. There’s a sun that looks much like my own, but there’s another sun that’s much larger and more orange than the other. By far, this is the prettiest site that I’ve ever laid my eyes on.
The illusion breaks away like shattering glass and I’m back in the New York City apartment. Zander is looking at me with a wide smile playing on his lips. “Amazing, huh?”
I nod.
“I need sleep,” I say, rubbing at my eyes.
Zander leads me to another room, this one with a massive bed in its center, covered in fine linens. He tells me that we’ll talk more in the morning and to have a good sleep. I smile and he leaves me.
Sleep is the last thing on my mind. If he is some alien prince from some far off world, I’ll be damned if I’ll let him take my baby from me. Now that I know for sure that I’m pregnant, I can feel my maternal instincts kicking in. I’ll protect my baby until my very last breath.
I wait for an hour or so until I’m sure he’s sleeping. I’m still dressed in my suit, but I remove the jacket and leave it on the bed. After gathering enough courage, I open the door and escape into the darkness of the apartment. My shoes tapping against the wood floor fills the air like an elephant stampede. I speed walk past the other rooms on the long hallway until I’m back into the common area. The front door is feet away now. I unlock it, twist the knob, and I’m free.
***
I’m in the New York night, wishing that I’d kept my jacket. Despite it being mid-May, the night is chilly. I’m directly in the heart of Manhattan with towering skyscrapers filling the sky.
I’m not sure where my cellphone or my car keys are, but I have a twenty that I always keep in my back pocket. There is a good amount of people on the street and I ask a lady passing in the other direction for the time. It’s just past two in the morning. I’ve spent a lot of time in the city, having grown up in a small New Jersey town less than twenty minutes away. The subway stations are littered about the city and it isn’t long until I run into one. I make my way down the wide staircase, grabbing a schedule as I pass an information kiosk.
The paranoia that I’ve felt since leaving the apartment hasn’t waivered. I’m sitting on a bench in the station, trying to study the schedule and the attached map, but I keep getting distracted by these two men sitting across from me. They’re both in matching suits, reminiscent of the Men in Black. Their eyes are covered by sunglasses which is weird for two reasons: it’s 2AM and we’re underground. Every time I look at them, they look away as if they weren’t just looking in my direction. After the fourth time of this, I stand and make my way toward the bathroom. When I’m a good distance away, I turn to find the two men walking in my direction, obviously pretending to converse. I decide to pass the bathroom, now racing toward the main exit.
The men break out into full out sprints behind me. I can hear their heeled shoes clacking against the cement floors.
When I reach the staircase, I take the steps two at a time. My breathing is heavy now as the adrenaline starts to die down. I reach the top of the stairs and I’m sure that I’m going to collapse. I can hear the men behind me scaling the steps but I can only manage a slight jog through the New York City streets. And then, just to add to the weirdness of the night, my breathing slows and pure energy bursts throughout my body. My eyes seem to go into overdrive, things that should not be visible to me are as clear as freshly made glass. My leg muscles, which were aching just seconds before feel brand new. My hearing seems to be amplified as well. My jog turns into a run and my run into a sprint. I’m running through the streets with fluidity that Eliana Russet should not possess.
I don’t know how, but I can hear the men behind me still. They’re falling further behind with each stride that I take. I turn to see them and then I’m struck by a brick wall. I fall straight to my butt. The brick wall isn’t a wall at all, but another man in a black suit. He takes a step toward me and I kick out, my foot connecting in the spot no man wants to be kicked. He barrels over, clutching at himself, and I swing my foot up again, this time at his face. He falls to the ground as I push myself up.
I sprint into the alley on my left, leaping over toppled trash bins and rusted shopping carts. There’s no light in the alley, but I can see all that I need to see. And soon enough, I see that there is only one exit to this alley, and it’s the way that I entered. Panicking, I turn to the mouth of the alley to see the two suited men approaching. One of them smiles, showing his yellowed teeth. They’re the predators and I’m the prey. I hope that my strange abilities stick around and allow me to kick the shit out of these men.
The smiling man reaches into his coat pocket and withdraws a metallic object. The moonlight above sparkles off the object, revealing its identity. He aims the gun at my head and says, “For the betterment of humanity.”