by L H Whitlock
“Shut up, you unholy whore.” Hayme pinched her nose with one hand and slapped the other over her mouth. He forced the pill between her lips and forced his fingers into her mouth, shoving further and further. Nora gagged against his fingers, the reflux forcing the pill down her throat. He hovered over her for several moments longer, making sure the pill was down and that she couldn’t do anything to get it back up. When he was satisfied he pulled away, his chest heaving from exertion and sweat prickling his ageless face.
Nora’s vision was erratic from lack of oxygen, but she saw bodies stirring in the doorway. Two guards stood there, staring at her bound form and Hayme. Nora opened her mouth to say something, but Hayme whipped around, spotting them in the doorway. The parties stared at each other for several moments before Hayme yanked out a strange small, black device similar to the one the pilot had used to kill Miss Yulle and shot the two men. The plasma beams shot through their chests, and they crumpled to the ground. Hayme then dropped the weapon to the floor and stretched his face into a look of shock.
“Help! Guards! She’s snuck a weapon in! An illegal weapon!”
A group of three men ran in, their eyes wide in shock as they looked at the weapon on the floor. One of them picked it up with his fingertips and looked at Nora with disbelief.
Tears ran down her face, and she shook her head. “I didn’t! I didn’t!” She wept, but she could tell the men didn’t believe her. No one believed her.
“Your Holiness, are you hurt?” one of he guards asked.
Hayme shook his head and pressed a hand to his heart. “Thank goodness she missed me! Those poor men. We must have a proper ceremony for them; they are heroes. She would have killed me without their warning!”
“Of course, Your Holiness. We will prepare them for a hero’s burial and notify King Mighton.”
Hayme nodded, still playing on the look of stunned shock. The whole act made Nora want to vomit. How could she have blindly followed this man’s word for so long, how could any of them?
“Sir, you should come with us. I don’t want you alone with this mad-woman. I heard she had snuck off to Kilton. It’s obviously turned her into a murderer.”
Hayme grasped his shoulder. “Thank you, but I think the threat has passed. I will finish my preparations and follow you out.”
“We can stay.”
He shook his head. “No, you know I must do this alone. It’s the way of the ceremony. I need a blood sample to mix with everything else so that God can show me his vision.”
The men nodded and made their way out of the room, carrying the two deceased guards as best they could manage between the three of them. Once they were in private, Hayme turned back to her again.
“Now, try not to bleed out before the ceremony,, that would ruin the celebration for all the others.”
“Did any of Mighton’s brides ever stand a chance?” Nora asked softly, her mind curiously blank of emotion as shock overtook her.
Hayme’s lips pressed into a thin smile. “I’ll see you in just a few short hours, Nora. Try to rest, we want you spry for the ceremony.” He jammed a needle into her hand and drew a small amount of blood, then turned and left without addressing her further.
Nora thrashed against her restraints until silence filled her ears. She lay on the bed weeping as Vivid Flor awakened and its rays began to lighten the sky.
She wept for her parents, and for her sister. If only she had warned them sooner, but she had had so little time and couldn’t be sure who to trust with the delivery of her message so she had opted for a courier and wrote her letter in a code her sister and she had made up as children.
She cried for Grave and for causing him more struggle and harm. She cried for the life she couldn’t have with him, and she cried for kind old Miss Yulle.
Then she cried for her unborn son, who she would never get the chance to meet.
32
Nora woke to the sound of her door opening. Her eyes felt swollen and were sensitive to the early morning light now pouring into the room through the windows. Her wrists hurt from being tied, and her back was sore from sleeping in one position.
She glanced over, her mind not caring who was at her door. Over the last hours, she kept anticipating her baby’s movement to verify that he was still okay, but he hadn’t kicked once since Hayme left the room, and Nora feared the baby was already lost to her.
Bella stood with her hands covering her mouth, tears pouring down her swollen and bruised face.
“Bella?” Nora croaked out, her throat tight and dry.
“Oh, Nora! I wanted it to be a mistake. Why did you come back? She stepped quickly across the stone floor, her maid’s dress swishing around her slippered feet.
“Your face.” Nora coughed and tried to moisten her lips.
“It’s all right. King Mighton has just been taking out his anger on the staff. Why are you here?” Her cold hands touched Nora’s sore ankles, and she unlatched a metal clasp then smoothed her hands over the angry red markings left behind.
“I didn’t intend to return. Someone found me and brought me back.”
“Morala? I thought it was illegal to take someone from asylum?” Bella unclasped Nora’s other leg and moved up to her arms.
“I didn’t make it to Morala. I accidentally got on the wrong shuttle and ended up on Kilton.”
Bella’s lips wobbled. “Oh. That’s still a sanctuary.” She looked like she had been through a lot since Nora had been gone. Her clothes were stained and her face black and blue, her mousy, brown hair peeked out from the cloth on her head, making her look tired and a bit frazzled.
“It is, but the man who discovered me there didn’t get caught when he removed me from its walls, and now it doesn’t matter.”
“I’m so sorry, Nora. I’m supposed to prepare you for the gender ceremony. The entire town is gathering.” Bella unclasped Nora’s hands, then held up a cup of water and helped Nora lift her head for a sip. Nothing had ever been so refreshing as that simple lukewarm water. Nora greedily gulped down each cup Bella offered.
Finally, she pulled away and gasped for air. “It’s okay, Bella. I’ll figure something out. I just need to talk to King Mighton.”
Bella shook her head and helped Nora to her feet, and guided her to a tub across the room. Nora’s legs shook, and her ankles stung from the open wounds. She eased into the cold water in the tub and curled up as Bella washed her with a sponge.
“I doubt Hayme will let you get anywhere near the king without him being present. King Mighton is very sick. It started shortly after you left. At first, Hayme tried to tell the king that it was the stress of losing you that made him ill. They called in healers from all over the planet, but none could tell him what was wrong or heal him. He’s gotten even more violent the sicker he gets.”
Nora closed her eyes. “I’m having a boy. Kilton has these machines that can listen to the heartbeat and show the baby inside of the body. They said this is how they’ve been handling births for a long time. They said they offered the technology to Yunnika, but Hayme forbade it, saying that it went against the words of the scroll God.”
Bella’s voice caught. “You––you’re having a boy! This is wonderful news! You won’t be exiled! It will be announced that King Mighton has finally sired a son!”
Nora’s eyes welled with tears. “I don’t think that’s how it’s going to work. Hayme told me that he looks forward to banishing me and has a feeling I’m having a girl. He killed two men and blamed it on me. He’ll kill me for it too, right after he declares my pregnancy terminated.”
Bella helped Nora out of the bath and dried her off. Nora felt nauseous, her stomach cramped, and she pressed her palm to feel for her son. She was so hungry, her head throbbed, and her vision spun.
“I’ll do what I can to help, but Nora, the ceremony starts soon. I don’t know how to delay it or how to get the king’s attention.”
“I’m so sorry for causing you so much pain,” Nora whispered as dread ro
se in her chest. How could she expect Bella to help her after all the trouble she had caused her friend already?
Bella waved off her worries. “I would have been beaten regardless, that’s what King Mighton does. I’m just happy I got to buy you some time.”
Nora watched without emotion as Bella walked to the armoire and pulled out a long white gown made of layers of satin and batiste. The neckline was high and frilly, and the sleeves ran all the way to her wrists.
She remembered the first ceremony she witnessed and how she thought the gown looked cheap, but gorgeous and simple at the same time. It wasn’t like the ball gowns with intricate beading and embroidery that King Mighton usually made his queens wear, and it took her this long to realize there was a reason for that. It wasn’t expected for the queen to make it through a gender ceremony successfully, so they designed a cheap gown that wouldn’t be missed once the bride was chased into exile. A cramp spasmed her stomach, and she pressed her hand to it in an attempt to smooth it away. Was this it? Was this the sign that her baby was dying?
Bella helped her into the gown and worked to begin buttoning up the back. Nora’s stomach cramped again, and she groaned and took in a deep breath.
“Are you all right?” Bella asked quickly, worry dripping from her voice.
All Nora could do was shake her head as a round of tears spilled from her eyes while Bella continued to dress her. Bella didn’t question her further but proceeded with the motions of getting her ready.
Bella finished her buttoning and pinned Nora’s hair into a bun. She grabbed hold of Nora’s shoulders and turned her, so they faced each other.
Nora took a deep breath to regain her wits. “Bella, before I go to the ceremony, I need to know, did he torture my parents—my sister?”
A grin glowed on the other woman’s face, igniting a light in her unusually dull brown eyes. “Oh, Nora. Mighton searched the entire planet for them, but they made it to Morala. They have been working to gain an audience on Ever to speak of Yunnika’s brutality. Or, that’s what the rumors are saying. They are safe, Nora. Whatever Hayme told you is false.”
Hope swelled inside of Nora, giving her strength and pushing her forward, down the hallway to the gender ceremony.
33
Grave’s ship hovered above Yunnika, only minutes away from landing when the first attack hit. Alarms blared throughout the ships metal halls and he, Helic, and Rikar raced to their positions.
The comm buzzed with an incoming call and Grave accepted it, planning to tell whoever attacked them that they were starting a battle they wouldn’t win. In situations like this, he relished the thought that the image of his face struck fear into the eyes of his enemies.
He stared at the screen proudly, anticipating the fear and shock as they saw his broad body and angry, scared face.
Instead, an image he never expected to see again stared back at him.
A tall, lean man with light blue skin and black hair, but it was his eyes that snared Grave’s attention. Deep, emotionless, black-rimmed eyes with deep blue irises. Some might call the man handsome; with his broad smile and defined cheekbones, he appeared charismatic But all Grave saw was the psychotic torturer that Vulnitro truly was.
“Grave,” he said, his lips stretching into a mock smile. “What a nice surprise.” Instead of surprise, his voice held a certain excitement and relief, as if he was thrilled a lead had finally panned out. Someone must have realized Grave would come for Nora, and let Vulnitro in on it.
Good, Grave thought. Now he would finally get to sink his hands into the man’s throat and rip out his voice box.
Rikar and Helic both paused and looked over, both trying to mask their responding anxiety.
“And I see you have Helic and Rikar with you. Their masters will be glad to know their whereabouts. I’m sure they’ll offer me a nice settlement for their return.”
“We no longer belong to Heddena,” Grave growled, his demons soaring to the surface, but this time he let them.
“You shouldn’t have left Kilton. I’ve been hoping you would show your big ugly face, and now I’ve got you.”
The ship jolted, and pulsing red light filled the room.
“They’re boarding us, Helic,” Rikar shouted.
Grave growled and shut off the comm screen.
Helic punched at the control panel, activating the auto-pilot. “We will enter the atmosphere soon. Hopefully, that will pull down their ship as well.”
Rikar grimaced. “Going down with the ship, huh? Man, every time I fly, we crash land somewhere. I fucking hate flying.”
“In my defense,” Helic said, “I have flown this ship hundreds of times, and only when I pick up you bastards do I crash. I liked this ship, just so you know.”
Rikar laughed and pulled out his gun. Helic snatched it away.
“What!” Rikar threw his hands up. “Are you crazy? I could have shot you.”
“You can’t shoot a gun inside a ship, especially a plasma gun! You’ll blow a hole right through the wall, and we’ll be sucked out.”
Rikar shrugged. “Oh, right.”
Grave smiled, feeling his scars tug and tighten, and that only added to his growing anger. “I prefer things a bit more personal, myself.”
Rikar laughed. “You always did enjoy working with your hands.”
Before Grave could respond, the door to the control room blew open, and four men rushed into the room.
“You’re under arrest by the order of Vulnitro.” It took Grave a moment to determine who had said the words as each man was so modified not one resembled a species that he knew.
The man speaking looked to be made out of stone. His body was thick and squat, his size uncomfortable for a man with his frame. The others had been bulked up artificially, too, and Grave couldn’t ignore the fact that it seemed like they were modeled after himself. But it wasn’t just modification that made a good warrior; it was experience, and with it, lots of kills.
Grave launched forward and thrashed the one who had spoken, taking him by surprise. His blade jammed into the man’s chest, and when Grave went to pull it back, triumphant in his victory, the handle broke off, leaving the shiny metal lodged between the beast’s chest plates. Grave growled and thrust his leg up to push-kick the man away from him.
Fine, he didn’t need his blade to handle this. He preferred pain radiating through his fists with each punch.
The rock beast tackled Grave around the waist, sending the two of them barreling into the control panel, the metal consoles buckling beneath their weight.
Grave found himself wedged between the rock man and the control panel, unable to see around the larger man to determine if Rikar and Helic were okay, or how they were faring against their opponents.
Grave tried to throw the man off, but he was too heavy to move and seemingly invulnerable.
“Grave.” The mouth opened and glowed a deep red from the inside. The creature’s voice sounded pained and gravely, even worse than his own. Grave knew that red glow; it came from a toxic branch of nano bites that had caused his size. This beast was going through the same transformation, except this time, it was hardening his body into stone.
Grave thrust his hands up, catching his thumbs in the creature’s eyes, holding himself away as the other man’s hands clasped tighter around his neck. Grave’s breath wheezed out, but determination kept him lucid.
“I’m glad to have met the fallen gladiator who I’m modeled after,” the man above him rasped. “Such a pity. You’re much punier then I imagined.”
Grave dropped an arm and probed around for something to assist him. His hand came across a tablet. He grasped it and slammed it into the rock-like head. The screen shattered from the impact, and the man staggered backward.
Grave straightened and assumed an attack position, the two large men studying each other, preparing for another attack.
“What shall I call you, brother in arms?” Grave asked in a low voice. “I like to know the name of a formidab
le opponent.”
Glancing behind the mountain-of-a-beast, Grave saw Helic and Rikar working together to beat down a group of three hunters. It looked like they may have the upper hand, but both sides already looked beat up.
“I am known as G-2. Grave 2, the better, the improved. You were a good design, but the master made me better.”
Grave snarled, and G-2 leapt, covering more distance in a single jump than a man so dense should be able to. Grave ducked right and G-2’s fist thrust through the wall. Grave kicked the back of his knee, and the man buckled. Ripping a chunk of metal off the control panel, Grave jumped onto the man’s back, flattening him and stabbing the metal into his back.
G-2 groaned, then reached behind him, grabbing Grave by the shoulder and throwing him off. Grave hit the wall, and landed on his back.
He looked over to see G-2 flexing his muscles and trying to reach the shard of metal in his back, red blood dripping from the wound, and already coagulating due to some sort of enhancement the doctors had injected. Grave had a similar enhancement; it made it hard for him to bleed out, but nothing quite like this.
With a roar, G-2 leapt forward again, his eyes blazing the same red as his mouth. Grave didn’t know if this was because the transformation was still in process, unstable, or if the man had given into the rage. That was one of the things that took Grave years and years of combat experience to fight off. The rage. It had once made him hasty, bloodthirsty, and careless. And now he planned to use what he thought his opponent was experiencing to his advantage. But he had to get the beast mad. Real mad.
Grave rolled to his feet and idly brushed off his shirt. “They may have made you with the intent that you would be better, but all they achieved was to deform you.”
“I’m not made of flesh so easily torn,” G-2 responded.
Grave growled as anger bit at him. No, he couldn’t let this backfire. “You’re just like all of Vulnitro’s other experiments. A failure. Flawed and weak.”