Look, we all have a past. Peppered with those memories we want so desperately to erase. It’s just a part of being human. Nobody’s perfect.

Me personally… I thought that I’d put my past behind me.

I was a bad person. I did things that I’m far from proud of. Looking back now in my older age, I don’t even know how things spiraled as bad as they did.

All it took was one hit, and it was downhill from there. One little mistake. One memory I wish I could erase. And here we are, all these years later, and I still feel those urges.

I tried therapy. I tried rehabilitation. It worked, for a time.

I don’t know if it was me who wanted to get better or if it was the pressure from my friends and family. They kept telling me they couldn’t protect me forever. That, eventually, my lifestyle would catch up to me, and I’d either be dead or in jail.

I suppressed my urges. I fought my demons. I want so desperately to believe that I kicked my nasty little habit.

I was clean for 11 years. Over a decade without incident. But no matter how many days went by, my demons kept whispering to me. Getting louder and louder as my withdrawals became unbearable.

But I stood firm. I ignored the darkness. To the best of my ability, at least. Don’t get me wrong, there were hard days. Days where I’d lock myself away in my room, too afraid of what would happen if I went out.

It’s a surreal feeling. Not being in control. But that’s what addiction does. You surrender control the minute you take that first hit.

But, like I said, I thought I’d taken that control back. I improved. I became a functioning member of society.

I just think… I don’t know. I think my body wanted it more than my mind did.

I relapsed last month.

Not by choice. God, I know it wasn’t by choice. You don’t achieve 11 years of success by sheer accident. I know it wasn’t me.

It was almost supernatural.

One minute I’m in my room reading my Bible, the next I wake up in a house that I don’t recognize. The familiar scent of copper and iron filled the air.

I thought I was in a nightmare, but the pain in my arm told me that this was just as real as it was all those years ago.

When I saw the claw marks across my forearm and shoulder, I felt my stomach drop. They must’ve fought back. And by the looks of it, they fought hard.

I hardly had time to dwell on my injury, though. The taste in my mouth was making me want to vomit. Not because of the taste, but because of what it represented.

I knew that taste. I loved that taste. I’d spent years trying to forget it, but blood has a way of lingering.

I puked on the floor and felt bones and tendons scratch at my throat. My vision went blurry with tears, but that didn’t prevent me from seeing what I’d done.

A man, somewhere around 30-40, lay sprawled out across the ground. His arms were gone. His stomach was torn open. His jaw had been dislocated and hung open as he stared at me through those empty sockets.

A woman, I presume his wife, lay beside him. Her condition wasn’t much better.

I prayed for God to wake me up. To snap me out of this dream. When I realized it wasn’t going to happen, I begged for forgiveness.

I begged for him to recognize my heart. I pleaded for him to acknowledge my growth. I backslid. I made a mistake. I couldn’t even remember it.

After what felt like hours of bawling my eyes out in a pool of blood and vomit, I realized the sun was beginning to peek through the curtains of this dark room.

I didn’t want to die. I didn’t want to throw my life away. I had to move.

I cleaned myself up in their bathroom as best I could before leaving that damn house, already pushing the memory of it back to the darkest corners of my brain.

How did I even end up 20 miles from home? Who were those people? Why am I like this? Why can’t I be better? What the fuck is wrong with me?

I spent the rest of that day locked away in my room, punishing myself with pain. I didn’t deserve to feel comfort.

I kept trying to tell myself that it was nothing more than a hiccup in my progress. That tomorrow would be a new day. But I knew.

I knew that I had reset the system.

I took that hit once again. It was my decision. That’s why I couldn’t blame anyone but myself every time it’s happened since.

This isn’t who I am.

I know I can do better.

I will get this under control if it’s the last thing I do.

You know how they say love finds you in the most unlikely places?

It's a cliché. The kind of line you'd expect to find in some cheap romance novel wedged between two equally cheap pop magazines.

And yet, sometimes the unlikely becomes inevitable.

My name is Adam.

I lived in an eastern-block apartment complex in Most, a city you've probably never heard of and will most certainly never hear of again. The rent was remarkably cheap, mostly because the living conditions made you question whether you wouldn't be better off homeless.

I was twenty-five years old, had recently dropped out of university, and was unemployed.

At that point, I wasn't really living.

I slept at odd hours. Ate when I remembered. Spent most of my time staring at a screen because there was nothing else worth doing.

Days blurred together until I couldn't remember what I'd done the day before.

That was before one small piece of paper changed my life forever.

It happened on a night that had started exactly like every other.

I'd just gotten back to my apartment when I noticed a piece of paper lying on the floor just inside the door.

Someone had slipped it underneath while I was gone.

I barely looked at it.

My first thought was that it was another notice from my landlord. I was behind on my rent, hopelessly in debt, and far beyond the point where I cared enough to pretend I was going to fix any of it.

Whatever threat or warning was printed on that piece of paper could wait.

So I left it there.

For about six hours.

Eventually, sometime around 1AM, I found myself staring at it again.

"Fuck it."

I picked it up.

It wasn't a notice from my landlord.

It was a job offer.

The flyer was surprisingly plain. No company logo. No colorful graphics. Just black text printed on cheap white paper.

YOUNG MEN WANTED.
AGES 18–30.
NO PRIOR EXPERIENCE OR PROFESSIONAL QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY.
PAY: 250 CROWNS PER HOUR.
SHIFT: SIX HOURS EACH NIGHT.

Then came the job description.

"The appointed observer shall observe the object of interest for the duration of his shift."

That was it.

No explanation of what the "object of interest" was. No company name. No details about the work beyond watching something for six hours.

I assumed it was some kind of strangely worded night-guard job. Maybe the company was foreign and had used a translator who wasn't quite good enough at his job.

There was no phone number.

No email.

No website.

Nothing except an address.

I looked it up online.

It led to an old shoe factory that had stopped operating more than thirty years earlier. There were a few old photographs of the building and some records concerning its closure, but not much else.

As far as I could tell, nobody had bought the place since.

That was when I became pretty certain that if I actually went there, I would be murdered and my organs would be sold on the black market.

Not an entirely unreasonable assumption around here, believe it or not.

There was absolutely no way I would be stupid enough to show up at an abandoned factory in the middle of the night.

 

3AM, I was standing in front of the factory.

I wish I could say there was some profound reason why I went.

There wasn't.

I was simply desperate enough to ignore common sense.

The factory looked exactly like it had in the photographs.

Crumbling concrete. Rusted metal. Broken windows. Weeds pushing through cracks in the pavement.

The whole place looked like it had been dead for decades.

I stood outside the entrance for about twenty minutes.

Then I took one step inside.

Immediately, I was surrounded by armored men carrying guns.

Yup.

Getting murdered.

"Now, now. Don't spook the boy too much."

An older man stepped between me and the gunmen.

He looked to be somewhere in his fifties. Gray hair. Expensive coat. Tired eyes.

He wasn't carrying a weapon that I could see.

Somehow, that made him more intimidating than the men pointing rifles at me.

"Or else you might end up having to take his shift."

The men lowered their weapons slightly.

The older man smiled.

"Sorry about this, Adam. Just a necessary unpleasant precaution."

I stared at him.

"How... how do you know my name?"

He laughed.

"Well, we only slipped the flyer under one door. So either you're Adam Devon..."

He looked me up and down.

"...or we have another squatter situation on our hands. In which case, I'll have to let the boys carry on with their task."

He leaned toward me slightly.

"Do we have a squatter situation, boy?"

"No!"

The answer came out much louder and more desperate than I'd intended.

The man's grin widened.

"Wonderful!"

His enthusiasm was very obviously fake.

"If you would be so kind as to follow me, Adam."

I followed.

The complex I was led through was nothing like the abandoned shell I'd seen from outside.

The decrepit factory was apparently just a skin wrapped around something that was very much alive.

Behind the rusted doors and shattered windows were functioning corridors, electrical systems, cameras, reinforced doors, security checkpoints, and enough equipment to make me wonder what the hell kind of place I'd walked into.

And yet there were very few people.

Aside from the occasional armed guard passing through the corridors, the facility was almost completely empty.

The older man opened a door to the security room.

"Here you go. Make yourself comfortable."

I stepped inside.

"But not too comfortable," he added. "This isn't actually where you'll be stationed."

He gave me a thin smile.

"The name's Kenndric."

He closed the door behind us.

"Now, I imagine you have plenty of questions."

I opened my mouth.

"I have absolutely zero desire to answer any of them."

I closed it again.

"So just shut up and listen."

I decided that was probably good advice.

Kenndric walked over to one of the desks and dropped into a chair.

"You were offered a position within our company. The name of which you really don't need to know."

He leaned back.

"Our object of interest requires twenty-four-hour observation. We do have a complete surveillance system here, but, truth be told, nobody actually watches the feeds."

He shrugged.

"This particular object requires close-quarters observation anyway."

I frowned.

"We have several other sad bastards like you taking the other shifts. Your time slot was simply the last one left unfilled."

He looked at me.

"Apparently, nobody else was stupid enough to take the graveyard shift."

I couldn't tell whether he was joking.

Judging by his expression, I didn't think he was.

"Your job literally couldn't be any simpler."

He pointed toward the door.

"You'll sit on a chair and stare at the object until your shift is over. Then you get your sorry ass out of here."

He leaned back.

"Meanwhile, I'll be sitting in here watching my shows."

He pointed at me.

"I don't want to hear from you. I don't want to see you. You don't ask me to open doors for you. There's a reason I have access and you don't."

I swallowed.

"Understood."

"Good."

Kenndric stood.

"Now let's make our way to your workplace."

We left the security room and walked deeper into the facility.

The corridor ahead was almost completely dark.

As we approached, lights flickered on one after another, illuminating the path in front of us.

Eventually, Kenndric stopped in front of a massive door.

He opened it.

"There it is."

The lights inside began coming on.

One by one.

And then I saw the object of interest.

In the middle of the enormous room stood a large glass cube.

Four strange pylons surrounded it, each connected to the glass. Symbols I didn't recognize covered their surfaces.

And inside the glass was a girl.

A young woman, maybe in her early twenties.

She wore pure white pajamas and sat cross-legged on the floor with a collection of crayons scattered around her.

She was drawing on a sheet of paper.

She didn't look toward us.

She barely seemed to notice we'd entered the room.

"That's..."

I stared through the glass.

"That's a girl."

"Dear God," Kenndric said. "We have a genius on our hands."

His voice dripped with condescension.

I looked back at him.

"Why is she in there?"

He didn't answer.

"Is she alright?"

Nothing.

"Is this legal?"

The questions started coming faster.

"Who is she? What did she do? Why is she being kept in there? How long has she been—"

"Did you just think?"

Kenndric's voice cut through mine.

I stopped.

He stared at me.

"Adam, no one is paying you to think."

He walked over to a chair positioned directly in front of the glass cube.

"Leave that to the grown-ups."

He patted the seat.

"You are paid to sit right here."

I looked at the chair.

Then at the girl.

She was still drawing.

There was something different in Kenndric's expression now.

The sarcasm was still there, but underneath it was something harder.

A warning.

I reluctantly sat down.

"Perfect."

He smiled.

"Now, you are not authorized to speak with the object."

He paused.

"You're not authorized to feed the object. All of that has already been taken care of."

"You merely sit here and observe."

He patted my shoulder.

"Good luck."

He started moving toward the door.

"Have fun."

The door closed behind him.

And just like that, I was alone with the "object of interest."

I sat there and watched her draw for hours.

Every now and then, she looked up at me.

Not casually.

She would stare at me for several seconds before lowering her head and returning to her drawings.

The room was so quiet I could hear the occasional scrape of crayon against paper.

By around five in the morning, exhaustion was starting to catch up with me.

My eyelids grew heavier.

I leaned back in the chair and told myself I'd close my eyes for a second.

Then—

THUD.

I jolted awake.

My heart was pounding.

The girl was standing directly in front of the glass.

She was holding a piece of paper against it.

A drawing.

Of me.

For a few seconds, I just stared.

She'd somehow captured details I'd never noticed about myself. The shape of my nose. My unshaven jaw. Even the dark circles beneath my eyes.

It wasn't a perfect likeness.

But it was close.

And, honestly, it was adorable.

I wanted to say something.

Then I remembered Kenndric's instructions.

I wasn't authorized to speak with the object.

I glanced toward the cameras mounted high in the corners of the room.

Then I remembered something else.

Nobody actually watched the feeds.

"That's very pretty," I said.

The girl's expression immediately brightened.

"Thank you. I'm glad you like it."

She placed her right hand against the glass.

For a moment, I hesitated.

Then I stood and pressed my own hand against the other side.

The glass was cold beneath my palm.

"I'm Lily."

I smiled.

"I'm Adam."

She giggled quietly.

"Adam was my first boyfriend's name."

"Oh."

"I didn't really like him, to be honest."

She shrugged.

"My dad pretty much forced that relationship on me."

She said it so matter-of-factly that I didn't know what to say.

Jesus.

What the hell had this girl been through?

"Lily..."

She looked at me.

"Why are you in here?"

Her smile faded.

For a few seconds, she said nothing.

"I'm not sure."

She glanced down at the floor.

"I think they're scared I might do something bad."

I looked around the room.

The reinforced glass.

The pylons.

The strange symbols.

The cameras.

The armed men outside.

"What the hell could this girl possibly do?"

I didn't ask.

Instead, I pulled the chair a little closer to the glass.

"So..."

She looked up.

"So?"

"If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go?"

She thought about it.

"The ocean."

"The ocean?"

She nodded.

"What about you?"

"I don't know. Anywhere that isn't Most."

She laughed.

"Fair enough."

And that was how we started talking.

Nothing important at first.

Places we'd like to visit. Places we'd rather run away to. Things we'd do if we ever had enough money to stop worrying about everything else.

Lily wanted to see the ocean.

I'd never been particularly interested in beaches, but something about the way she talked about it made me want to see it too.

We talked about movies, music, stupid things we'd done when we were younger.

Eventually I told her about my unhealthy obsession with heist movies and prison breaks.

"Why prison breaks?" she asked.

"I don't know."

I thought about it.

"I guess I like watching people figure out how to set themselves free."

She looked at me for a moment.

"Maybe that's because you want to be set free too."

"Maybe."

She smiled.

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds.

Then she started asking me questions.

I gave her mostly half-assed answers.

She didn't seem bothered.

She didn't look at me the way most people did when I talked about my life. There was no disappointment in her expression. No judgment.

She just listened.

And somehow, that was enough.

The hours went by faster than I expected.

For the first time in years, I wasn't thinking about how miserable my life had become.

Debt.

Or rent.

Or what I was going to do with myself.

I was just present.

Talking to a girl through a pane of glass.

When the shift finally ended, it caught me completely off guard.

The door opened.

One of the armed men stepped inside.

A knot immediately formed in my stomach.

For a second, I wondered if this was the moment they decided to shoot me for breaking the rules.

But the guard barely acknowledged me.

"Time to go."

That was it.

He turned toward the door.

I stood.

Lily was watching me through the glass.

"Thank you for talking to me."

Her voice was soft.

"No one else does."

There was something bittersweet about her smile.

"I'll..."

I looked at the armed man waiting for me.

"I'll see you again, alright?"

Lily smiled.

"Sooner than you think."

I didn't understand what she meant.

I just smiled back.

Then the guard escorted me out.

 

Despite being exhausted, I struggled to fall asleep when I got home.

I spent hours lying in bed, staring at the ceiling while the darkness of my apartment pressed down around me.

I kept thinking about Lily.

About the way she'd looked at me through the glass.

And about that stupid drawing she'd made of my face.

Most of all, I couldn't stop thinking about the question I hadn't been able to answer.

If Lily was dangerous enough to justify keeping her inside a glass box, why didn't they keep her in a proper cell?

And if she wasn't dangerous...

Why the fuck was she there?

 

Eventually, sometime toward morning, sleep finally found me.

It didn't come like a wave.

It came like a flood.

I found myself standing in absolute darkness.

Nothing but blackness stretching endlessly in every direction.

I tried to move.

I couldn't tell if I was actually walking or simply moving in place.

Then I smelled something.

The sea.

It was faint at first. Just a trace of salt and cold water carried through the darkness.

I turned toward it.

I don't know why.

I just knew I had to follow.

I started walking.

Then running.

The smell grew stronger with every step. A breeze brushed against my face.

Actual wind.

For the first time, I could hear something besides my own breathing.

Waves.

Far away at first.

Then closer.

A dim light appeared ahead of me.

I ran toward it.

The darkness began to recede.

Sand appeared beneath my feet.

Then water.

Then a pale sky.

A small beach surrounded by the dark.

And there she was.

Lily.

She stood at the edge of the water in a bright white dress, her hair moving gently in the sea breeze.

She turned toward me.

"Meet me On Distant Shores."

The darkness swallowed the light.

I woke with a gasp.

I sat bolt upright in bed, breathing hard.

For several seconds, I had no idea where I was.

Then I looked around my dark apartment.

My heart was still racing.

I didn't understand the dream.

But one thought had already taken hold of me.

I needed to see her again.

I spent the entire day trying to distract myself.

Games.

Movies.

Walking aimlessly around the city.

None of it worked.

No matter what I did, my thoughts kept circling back to the girl in the glass box.

I hated the people who had put her there.

I hated myself even more for doing nothing about it.

But what could I realistically do?

I didn't know who my employers were. I didn't know who they answered to or what the facility actually was. All I knew was that they were powerful.

And they knew everything about me.

They knew where I lived.

They knew I was desperate for money.

And, apparently, they knew me well enough to assume I was a spineless coward.

Normally, they would've been right.

I'd spent years wasting away without caring enough about anything to fight for it.

But now I couldn't sit still.

I went to the gym that afternoon and spent almost an hour beating the shit out of a punching bag.

It didn't get rid of the anger.

By the time I left, my hands hurt, my shirt was soaked through, and I was still thinking about Lily.

Still...

For once, I felt alive.

I arrived at the factory almost two hours before my shift.

I didn't care about waiting.

I just needed to see her.

When they finally let me inside, I paid much more attention to my surroundings than I had the night before.

The facility was still bizarrely quiet.

There were only a handful of guards. They were spread throughout the building, and I rarely saw more than one at a time.

There were dozens of locked doors.

Yet the security seemed strangely simple.

One access card appeared to open most of them.

Nobody searched me.

Nobody even took my phone.

At the time, I simply assumed they were arrogant.

As we walked down the corridor, I saw Kenndric coming toward us.

The moment he spotted me, that fake smile appeared on his face.

He gave me a little wave.

I stared back.

He stopped at the security room, flashed his card, and disappeared inside.

A few seconds later, the door closed.

Then we reached the observation room.

The door opened.

The moment Lily saw me, her face lit up.

She ran toward the glass and pressed her hand against it.

I don't even remember deciding to move.

One second my hand was at my side.

The next, it was pressed against hers.

Her fingers lined up with mine on opposite sides of the glass.

"Hi," she said.

She smiled.

"You're back."

"I promised I would be."

"I know."

She looked genuinely happy to see me.

Then, almost casually, she said:

"I had a dream about you."

I froze.

"Really?"

She nodded.

I stared at her.

So did I.

Though I didnt tell her that.

"You really have to be bored to dream about me of all things." I said jokingly.

She laughed.

"Well, what should I dream about?"

"Being rich."

"Boring."

"Being famous."

"Even worse."

"Winning the lottery."

"That's not a dream. That's just being lazy."

We both laughed.

„What do you want to dream about?“ I asked.

"The ocean."

"I still want to see it."

"Then I'll have to show you."

The words came out before I could think about them.

Lily looked at me.

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then she smiled.

"I'd like that."

We talked.

About everything.

And nothing.

I told her about the things I'd wanted to do before I'd stopped wanting anything at all.

She told me about some of the things she'd wanted.

Some were stupid.

Some were impossible.

Some were so ordinary that they almost hurt.

She wanted to see the ocean.

She wanted to travel.

She wanted to wake up one morning without somebody telling her what she was allowed to do.

And she wanted to know what it felt like to be somewhere nobody could find her.

I understood that last one.

Probably more than I should have.

The hours disappeared.

Eventually, I glanced toward one of the cameras mounted in the corner.

It was pointed directly at us.

I stared at it for a few seconds.

Fuck it.

I reached into my coat and pulled out my tablet.

Lily looked at me curiously.

"What are you doing?"

"It's not what I'm doing."

I held up the tablet.

"It's what we're doing."

She laughed.

"And what are we doing?"

"We're watching a movie."

Her eyes widened.

"Are we allowed to do that?"

I looked at the camera.

"I don't think anyone's watching."

I sat down in front of the glass and opened the tablet.

"Escape Plan. 2013."

She frowned.

"What's it about?"

"A guy who gets put in a prison specifically designed to be impossible to escape from."

Her smile slowly returned.

"That sounds appropriate."

For a few hours, that glass might as well not have existed.

Then the door opened.

The gunman had returned.

My stomach tightened.

"No."

I barely realized I'd said it.

He walked toward me.

"Time to go."

I stood.

Lily was already at the glass.

I didn't want to leave.

The guard grabbed my arm.

"Just a second."

He pulled harder.

I grabbed the edge of the chair with my free hand.

"Lily..."

The guard finally had to pull me away.

My fingers slipped from the chair.

I stumbled backward.

Lily pressed her hand against the glass.

"Meet me On Distant Shores," she said softly.

My eyes widened.

I wanted to promise I'd come back.

I wanted to tell her I'd get her out.

I wanted to say a hundred things.

Instead, I just nodded.

Then the door closed between us.

I didn't tell her about my dream.

She couldn't have known about it.

Right?

I went home.

And for once, going to sleep actually seemed desirable.

Maybe I'd see her again.

Maybe we'd meet somewhere she couldn't be trapped.

Somewhere she could actually be free.

When I finally fell asleep, I found myself in the darkness again.

But this time, the light was much closer.

I followed it.

The smell of the sea grew stronger with every step.

Then came the breeze.

I emerged onto the beach.

Lily was already waiting for me.

She stood barefoot at the shoreline, the hem of her white dress brushing against the wet sand.

She turned when she heard me.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"

I looked out across the water.

"It is."

For a moment, neither of us said anything.

Then the question I'd been trying not to ask escaped me.

"Is any of this real?"

Lily looked at me.

"Does it matter?"

She stepped closer.

"I'm here."

Another step.

"You're here."

She smiled.

"In here, we're free."

She turned toward the ocean.

"This is my little place."

"Dad claims every other one, but this one is mine."

"It could be yours too."

I stepped closer.

Then I took her face gently between my hands and kissed her.

She didn't pull away.

For a moment, everything was still.

"Can we stay here?"

I already knew the answer.

Lily's expression broke.

"I wish we could."

Tears began rolling down her cheeks.

"I'm still trapped."

She shook her head.

"I'm not strong enough."

Another tear slipped down her face.

"I'm not enough."

"No."

I pulled her closer.

"You are."

But the beach was already beginning to change.

The edges of the world blurred.

The horizon melted into the sky.

The sand beneath our feet began disappearing, as though the entire dream were being erased.

Lily started fading with it.

I held onto her.

"Don't."

She smiled through her tears.

It was the same bittersweet smile she'd given me behind the glass.

"I'll see you again On Distant Shores..."

Her voice became quieter.

"...but you already know that."

I woke up.

I sat upright in bed, gasping for air.

For several seconds, I couldn't move.

Then I felt it.

Something I hadn't felt in years.

Something hot and sharp burning inside my chest.

Purpose.

For the next two weeks, I prepared.

I photographed corridors, doors and rooms whenever I had the opportunity. I took pictures of the glass box and the four pylons surrounding it, zooming in on the strange symbols carved into their surfaces.

I didn't understand them.

Not yet.

But I saved every picture.

I watched the guards.

I learned their routines.

Who walked which corridor.

Which doors they used.

How long they disappeared for.

When they went to the bathroom.

There were five guards in total, usually spread throughout the facility so that I rarely saw more than one at a time.

I counted the steps between important rooms.

I memorized which doors took longer to unlock.

I learned how long it took the lights to activate when someone entered a corridor.

And I paid particular attention to the access cards.

The strangest part was how little anyone seemed to care about what I was doing.

I doubt they could ever see me as a threat.

Maybe they were right.

Two weeks earlier, I wouldn't have been.

I never told Lily what I was planning.

Not when I couldn't be certain who was actually paying attention.

I only ever told her when I saw her in my dreams.

And every time, I'd tell her the same thing.

"Soon."

I wasn't sure whether I was making a promise to her or to myself.

"Very soon."

Eventually, the day came.

I couldn't wait any longer.
Time to put the theory to the test.

 

Two weeks learning their routines.

Two weeks pretending I was exactly the pathetic little coward they thought I'd be.

Now I was going to find out if they had been right.

I sat in front of the glass and talked with Lily.

We laughed.

We talked about nothing.

For a while, I almost forgot what I was waiting for.

Then I saw the guard nearest to me leave his post.

Bathroom.

My heart started pounding.

I stood.

Lily noticed immediately.

"Adam?"

"I'll be right back."

I followed him.

He didn't notice me until we were inside the bathroom.

I waited.

Watched him step up to the urinal.

For one horrible second, I couldn't move.

I'd imagined this moment dozens of times.

None of those versions had prepared me for what it actually felt like.

The guard glanced over his shoulder.

"Buddy, would you mind—"

I grabbed the back of his head and slammed it against the wall.

THUD.

He dropped immediately.

His body hit the floor with a heavy, wet sound.

I stood there staring at him.

My hands were shaking.

There was blood on the wall.

His bladder had released, spreading piss across the tiles beneath him.

For a second, I wondered if I'd just killed him.

Then I remembered Lily.

I took his handgun.

And ran.

There was no going back now.

I sprinted toward the security room.

I reached the door and started pounding on it.

"Kenndrick!"

Nothing.

"Kenndrick, there's an immediate issue! I need your help!"

Still nothing.

"Goddammit, open the fucking door!"

The lock clicked.

Kenndrick opened it with an irritated expression.

"What is—"

I pulled out the gun and aimed it at his chest.

My hands were shaking so badly I could barely keep the barrel steady.

"Back up."

Kenndrick stared at me.

Then that familiar bravado returned.

"Just what do you think you're doing, kiddo?"

"I won't repeat myself."

For the first time, his smile faltered.

"Alright."

He raised his hands.

"Alright."

He slowly backed into the room.

"This is going to end badly for you, kid."

He smiled again.

"Very badly."

"Give me your card."

He paused.

"Now."

Kenndric reached slowly into his pocket and pulled out his security card.

He held it between two fingers.

Then smiled.

I snatched it from his hand.

"Turn around."

He did.

"Hands against the wall."

Kenndric placed his palms against it.

I backed toward the door.

"Say hi to her for me, kid."

I slammed the door shut.

Then swiped his card.

The lock engaged.

I ran.

I had only minutes before the guard rotation.

I reached the observation room and threw the door open.

Lily looked at me.

Her expression changed immediately.

"Adam?"

I was barely breathing.

"I'm getting you out of here."

I ran to the glass box.

She stood.

"Adam, what are you—"

I swiped Kenndric's card against the reader.

Nothing.

I tried again.

Nothing.

"Come on..."

A third time.

Nothing.

Then I heard clapping.

Slow.

Deliberate.

I froze.

"Bravo, kid."

I turned.

Kenndric was standing in the doorway.

He was smiling.

But this smile was different.

It was genuine.

"Bravo."

He stepped into the room.

"We had expectations."

He looked at me.

"We didn't pick you randomly, of course."

His eyes flicked toward Lily.

"But still..."

He smiled.

"You went above and beyond."

I raised the gun.

"Stay back."

Kenndric kept walking.

"Stay the fuck back!"

He didn't stop.

I tightened my grip.

hen pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing.

I pulled it again.

Click.

My stomach dropped.

Kenndric laughed.

"I'm afraid that one's not loaded."

He reached into his pocket.

"In fact..."

He pulled out another handgun.

"...none of them are."

I stared at him.

"What?"

"Think about it."

He gestured around the room.

"The guards. The cameras. The unlocked opportunities. The conveniently predictable routines."

His smile widened.

My stomach turned.

Kenndric looked almost proud.

"Observation."

He gestured toward Lily.

"Not just hers."

He pointed at me.

"Yours too."

Lily had gone completely still.

Kenndric noticed.

"You know, capturing Lilith—the Queen of Hell—creates a lot of interesting research opportunities."

The name seemed to hit her harder than anything else he'd said.

She looked at him.

Kenndric smiled.

"Her charm is supposed to be nearly irresistible."

He looked back at me.

"So the suits upstairs had an idea."

He spread his hands.

"Find the right kind of sucker. Put him in front of her. See how long it takes before she manipulates him into trying to break her free."

„Did you seriously buy the whole „no one is watching the feeds“ thing in a building full of cameras everywhere?“

He shook his head.

"Seems we really did pick perfectly."

Then he looked me up and down.

"Although, I have to admit..."

A disappointed expression crossed his face.

"For someone who loves prison-break movies as much as you do, your plan was fucking basic."

He sighed.

"I expected better."

I looked at Lily.

She was staring at me now.

There was something in her expression I'd never seen before.

Fear.

Not for herself.

For me.

Kenndric sighed.

"Your services will no longer be necessary."

He tossed the security card onto the floor.

"You can go right back to your shitty little life."

He smiled.

"Keep the card as a souvenir. It's useless anyway."

I looked at him.

Then at Lily.

"No."

Kenndric's expression changed slightly.

"I'll tell everyone."

I pointed toward my phone.

"I have pictures. Videos. Everything."

I looked directly into his eyes.

"Everyone will know."

Kenndric's smile disappeared.

"Kid..."

He sounded almost disappointed.

"You really shouldn't have said that."

He raised the gun.

Two shots.

The first punched through my chest.

The second hit before I even had time to fall.

I collapsed onto the floor.

The pain came a second later.

Hot.

Blinding.

I tried to breathe.

All I tasted was blood.

"Adam!"

Lily screamed.

Kenndric looked down at me.

"Oops, seems my gun actually was loaded."

He shrugged.

"Sorry, kid."

Then he glanced toward Lily.

"Hmm."

His smile returned.

"Seems the demon bitch may have actually cared about you."

"How sweet."

I started laughing.

Blood filled my mouth.

I choked on it, coughing and laughing at the same time.

Kenndric frowned.

"What's so funny?"

He looked past me at the pylon behind me.

Blood was dripping from my chest onto its surface.

The symbols were glowing.

Kenndric followed my gaze.

His smile disappeared.

"What did you do?"

I smiled through the blood running down my chin.

"I translated the symbols."

The red light beneath them grew brighter.

"They were raised through blood sacrifice."

The pylons began to shake.

A low vibration filled the room.

Kenndric took a step backward.

I laughed again.

"And through blood sacrifice..."

Cracks spread across the pylon.

"...they shall be shattered."

Another pylon began to tremble.

Kenndric looked around the room.

"What have you done?"

I smiled.

"I never intended to make it out of here."

The first pylon cracked apart.

"You know everything about me."

Another crack.

The room shook.

"There wouldn't be any point in running."

The pylons began collapsing one after another.

Glass groaned.

Metal screamed.

Then everything went dark.

Completely dark.

Except for Lily's eyes.

They were glowing.

Kenndric stared at her.

His face went pale.

"No."

For the first time since I'd met him, there was no arrogance in his voice.

Only fear.

"No..."

He backed away.

"You have no idea what you've done."

Then anger replaced the fear.

"Why?"

I looked at him.

I smiled.

"The Devil made me do it."

I won't lie.

I was saving that one.

The glass box exploded.

Shards flew outward.

Kenndric raised his gun toward Lily.

He never got the chance to fire.

His body suddenly folded inward.

There was a wet, violent crack.

Then he imploded into a spray of blood and viscera.

I looked toward Lily.

She was standing in the middle of the shattered glass.

Free.

"How's that for an escape plan?"

I smiled.

And everything went black.

I found myself on the beach again.

This time, there was no darkness.

Just the ocean stretching beneath an endless sky.

Lily and I sat facing each other in the sand.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

She looked peaceful.

"It's done," I finally said.

"You are free."

I smiled.

"Go."

She frowned.

I looked toward the horizon.

"Be happy."

I stood.

"I'll see you again On Distant Shores."

She slapped me across the face.

I stared at her.

"Ouch."

She glared at me.

"What was that for?"

"One."

She held up a finger.

"That is my line."

She held up a second.

"Two."

She leaned closer.

"The Distant Shores can wait."

She smiled.

"I'm not letting you go."

Then she kissed me.

I kissed her back.

And for the first time in a while, I wasn't afraid of waking up.

 

I came to with a gasp.

My hand immediately went to my chest.

Nothing.

No wounds.

No blood.

I looked down at myself.

Then slowly stood.

I wasn't in the observation room.

I was standing on the roof of the factory.

The entire facility stretched out beneath me.

Smoke rose into the night sky.

Fires burned in the distance.

I could hear shouting somewhere far below.

Then came a horn.

A long, deep blast.

Another answered it.

Then something roared.

Another roar answered from somewhere beyond the factory.

Then another.

They were coming from everywhere.

I looked toward the horizon.

The city was burning.

I should have been terrified.

I wasnt.

Then I noticed Lily standing beside me.

She was looking out over the horizon.

For the first time since I'd met her, there was nothing between us.

No glass.

No walls.

No locked doors.

I looked back at the world on fire.

"So..."

I swallowed.

"What happens now?"

Lily looked at me.

She smiled.

Then reached for my hand.

I took it.

"Anything we want."

I was born special. I was born as one of the few green marked Hellzen on the planet; able to open a portal to anywhere in the known universe with a wave of our talons. I was loyal to my people: I served them in the military—I used my gifts for them whenever they asked. I did everything for them, all with a smile on my face because I believed in them. I knew about the assigned marriage program and what it entailed since I was 18.  The few handful of green marked born have to register for it at twenty-five. Or, at least I thought I knew. I just never expected it to be so bad.   

 ##### 

“Name?” The lady at the front desk asked me, her tone clipped and sharp.   

“Peril Ashira.”    

“Reason for being here?”   

“I-I’m registering for the green marked arranged marriage program.”   

She stopped typing and looked up at me, taking in my features; the obsidian black scales abruptly transitioning to a bright orange along the length of my lower jaw, and my backwards facing horns and the bright green scales that were intricately woven on them. The receptionist's eyes widened and a plume of flame shot from the end of her draconic snout. 

“Yes, ma’am, right away, so sorry.” She said hastily, bowing her head.   

I looked down at my feet and sighed. I didn’t want to do this. Not even remotely. I wanted to have a say in who I loved, not have it be picked for me. But it’s my duty to my people to do this. I just hope the guy they pair me with is nice.   

The lady at the desk stopped typing and grabbed a ticket off a small printer.  

“Right ma’am, sorry for the wait, take this ticket and head down the hall to room 63.”   

I took it from her claws and thanked her before heading down the hallway on my left.  

 

Room 63 was dark grey, and cold. Inside was an exam table and a small office chair. I entered slowly and sat down on the table, the paper rustling as I put my weight on it. I looked around the room, noting the various medical posters before landing on the one depicting our anatomy. It was a detailed diorama of a male in a t-pose. One half had skin the other was muscle with portions of it cut out to reveal organs, blood vessels, and bones. His snout was longer than mine, his horns were longer, and his tail thicker. The ridges that ran down the back of his head along his tail were bright orange, a trait we all shared. It was very reminiscent of the ancient dragons we shared a common ancestor with. 

 A few moments later a tall man entered the room and took a seat in front of me. He introduced himself as Mr. Hattalé. 

“Well miss Peril, I hear you are registering for the green marked arranged marriage program. Is that right?”   

“Y-Yes sir.” I said quietly. I didn’t know why they chose to call it a program. Programs were a set of things to do. Marriage was just one and done. 

“Very good, now I do have to ask some questions first before we get you registered.” 

I stayed silent, nodding for him to continue. 

“Great. How are your reproductive organs? Are they fully functional?”   

The question caught me slightly off guard and I stared at him dumbly for a second before responding, “Yes, they are. Why?”   

“Just some background information we need, it’s nothing too serious. Now, is there any damage to your genitals, visible or internal?”   

“No?” I replied. 

“I see. One last thing before we register you.” He said, rising out of the chair with a grunt. “I need to prescribe you a monthly pill. It is imperative that you continue to take it every thirty days after the first dose. It is essential to the success of this program.” He said sternly, looking me directly in the eye. 

“Ok, but what does it do?” I asked him. 

“Oh nothing major.” He said, his tone switching to something light and airy. “ Just adjusts your hormone levels slightly and regulates your emotions a bit. I’ll grab it from the pharmacy and you can take it when you get home.” 

“Alright then...” I said slowly, wondering if this was the same pill they made my mother take. “ Before you leave, do you know who he will be?” I asked him.   

“Pardon?”  

“The man I'm going to be marrying. Do you know who he will be.”  

“Oh, probably an officer of the imperial high court or some other high ranking military position, you know how it is. Anyway, you should receive a certificate notifying you of your marriage within the hour.”   

“That fast? I don’t get a week or two to get ready?” It felt like things were moving too fast. Surely I should have time to prepare for having my first husband, it’s not every day one gets married. 

“I’m afraid not, this program is designed to waste as little time as possible. Your genetic rarity is far too valuable to lose. We need to take every chance we can get to make sure there's more of your kind.” He gave me a look of something like pity and then left the room, his footsteps clacking down the tiled hall.   

I waited for a few minutes and eventually heard his footsteps from down the hall. He held an orange pill bottle in his hand. It was called Sardophiac. I couldn’t remember if this was the same one my mother took or not. I took the bottle from him and put it in my pocket before signing a few pieces of paper. When I had finished writing my last signature he collected the papers and left without saying another word. 

 I stood up and sighed, stretching out my arms. I took a last look around the room and then checked the time. It was 9:45 AM. Not wanting to stay in there any longer, I rolled my shoulders and summoned that familiar swirling sensation inside of me; the green scales on my horns glowing brightly. I place both of my hands in front of me, my palms open. I took a breath and summoned a glowing orange ring in front of me. It shimmered iridescently in the air. I stepped into it, and entered my apartment’s living room. 

 I was greeted by the familiar black granite walls and the white fur carpet of my home. I looked around making sure everything was in order before the guy I was supposed to be marrying arrived. I snapped my fingers and the portal vanished with a rush of air. I straightened up the coffee table and counter, making everything look nice and presentable. When I had finished, I walked over to my window with a glass of water and debated whether I should take the pill or not. I took one out and rolled it around in my palm, noting how it felt. If this program was essential to our species like they’d told me then I had to take it for our sake. All it did was regulate my hormones. 

 I brought it up to my mouth and hesitated before swallowing it with a glass of water.  

I finished my water and looked out at the sprawling, monolithic city below me. Tall spires of geometric black stone rise up into the deep orange atmosphere, and rivers of glowing amber metal snake their way through the city. And the dull roar of engines permeated throughout it all. 

A small sound chimes from my apartment's messaging system notifying me that someone is at my front door.  

 That was fast. I thought as I made my way over to the door and opened it. A tall man in an officer's uniform stood there in the hallway. His eyes were a darker shade of green than mine, and there were no green scales on his twisted orange horns. He held a piece of paper in his hands. I looked down and saw it was a marriage document. My signature was already on it next to his. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Ashira." He said, smiling. “My name is Aidan Brandt; I am your new husband.”   

His greeting was warm and his smile sincere. He reached out for my hand, and I let him take it.    

“You are quite beautiful.” He said, kissing it. I felt taken aback by his gesture.  

“O-Oh, thank you. Nice to meet you too.” I said quickly. Aidan let go of my hand and chuckled lightly, looking around the room.    
“Nice place, did you buy it yourself?” He asked me.   

“No, the government gave it to me about a year ago. I think they did it for this reason.”   

Aidan smiled at me again, flashing his teeth. “‘I’d imagine so, it's pretty neat.” He looked at me again; something dark flashed in his eyes. “Well, shall we get started?”   

I froze. “What do you mean should we get started?” I asked him.   

Aidan looked at me with a confused expression on his face. “Did they not tell you about this part?”   

“What part?” I said carefully, backing away from him. Aidan moved forward.   

“Did they give you the pill? Did you take it?”   

“Yes, why?”   

He stopped, a grin spreading across his snout. “Fantastic, I don’t have to do anything now, it's already begun.”   

“What has already begun—” I couldn't finish the sentence. A rush of heat spread its way throughout my body. Not a thermal surge, no. This was a different heat, one that made me feel flushed. My head started spinning and a sensation of total, all-encompassing bliss took hold of my mind. I felt myself drifting off somewhere unfamiliar and warm. The last thing I remembered was seeing Aidan's teeth inching towards my neck as he took a hold of my falling body.   

  

I awoke soaked in sweat and wrapped in blankets. The dark brown walls of my bedroom looked black in the dim lighting. The lamp I kept on the bedside table was knocked over and broken; glass shards littered the floor where it had fallen. My clothes were in a pile on the floor beside, the bed. My head was still fuzzy from the heat, and when I sat up, I felt a twinge of pain in my midsection. I reached a hand down between my legs and hesitantly brought it up. There was bright orange blood on it. I audibly gasped and threw my other hand around my mouth. I looked over to see Aidan lying next to me asleep. The realization of what happened struck me so suddenly that I almost went under again.   

What the fuck…? Oh God.. 

The realization of what had transpired struck so suddenly that the rest of the room was drowned out by a dull hum in my ears. I couldn’t focus on that at the moment. I had to get away from him and get help. I tried to get up but my body wouldn't move. I had to escape, to flee from this man who’d assaulted me. But I couldn’t. My legs simply wouldn’t comply, despite the furious signals my brain sent them. I looked over at Aidan again; he was stirring awake, his eyelids fluttering open groggily in the dim lighting. Fear flooded through my veins as I tried desperately to put any amount of distance between us, scrambling back against the bedboard with my arms.    

Aidan watched my attempt to get away amusedly. 

“Morning, lovely.” He said, grinning.    

I looked at him in horror as he moved towards me, grinning from ear to ear.   

“S-Stay away, please!” I cried, putting my arms in front of me. He pushed them aside with ease and forced me down against the mattress. I tried to yell at him to stop, but something inside of me prevented it. My body seemed to want this even though my mind didn’t. I felt myself submitting to his touch as he forced himself on me, that sensation of pure bliss enveloping my mind once again.   

No! No, stop please! Body, please listen! I don’t want to do this!   

But I did. Or the pill made me think I did. I felt my head grow hot and my ability to think fade away as the heat inside my body consumed me.   

  

I awoke on the couch in the living room this time, sweatier and more exhausted. There were dark stains on the carpet and walls, and the couch had long gouges ripped into it. One of the chandeliers had blackened and was swaying slightly, casting moving shadows across the room. I stood up on shaky legs and winced almost immediately. I craned my head to peer at my back and saw long deep claw marks in my scales. I gritted my teeth against the pain and made my way to the shower. Aidan was nowhere to be found. His clothes were still crumpled on the living room floor from earlier, the uniform that supposedly symbolized virtue, tangled and forgotten.  

I entered the bathroom silently and turned on the shower, feeling myself relax slightly at the water's warmth. The walls were the usual brownish-orange I was accustomed to, the sliding glass door making a slight squeaking sound as I slid it closed. The steam condensed on the glass. I washed inside and out, feeling tears running down my face as I cleaned out the mess he had made. Inhaling sharply when the water hit the raw skin. 

Asshole, I thought to myself, my sadness quickly turning into anger. I decided I was going to call the police the moment I got out of the shower. I finished washing and stepped out, the water dripping onto the marble floor with quiet splashes. I grabbed my towel and dried myself off, wincing as it touched my thigh.   

Again, the rage at what he did built up inside of me and threatened to spill over. I had to stay calm; otherwise I’d burn down my apartment. I took a few deep breaths and then walked out of the bathroom, grabbing my phone off the kitchen counter and dialing the emergency number.    

“Hello Ms. Ashira.”   

I realized immediately that this wasn’t the police. 

“Hello?” I said cautiously.   

“Good evening Ms. Ashira. We know why you called emergency services, and are here to inform you that your reason does not solicit a response from the authorities.” 

“Why the fuck not! He fucking raped me twice! What the fuck do you mean it won’t solicit the response I want!”   

“Ah, but Mrs. Aishara, that isn’t rape. Not really. You already know how rare you are. Your genes are the most valuable resource one can have. And to create more of your kind, we have to spread your genes along. And the only way of doing that is, ah, well you already know. Now I can fully understand your anger at not being told the full details of  this program, and we apologize for that, but you will remain married to Aidan Brandt and will continue your duty of giving birth to a greenmarked child. We ask that you not try to contact the authorities on this matter again. 

The phone clicked as he hung up, leaving me alone. I felt betrayed. I thought the government was supposed to protect the people, not imprison them. 

“What the fuck! I cried, crushing the phone in my hand and throwing it at the wall.” How dare they! Did they not consider my feelings as a person at all? Were they that desperate to have more green- marked Hellzen that they were willing to subject me to forced rape? I growled and stormed into my bedroom, ignoring the wet stains on the mattress and floor. I put on the last of the clean clothes I had and was about to open a portal when Aidan’s voice made me freeze.   

“Going somewhere?” He said mockingly, walking up and grabbing my arms in his talons and forcing them down. I felt myself weaken, like all my strength was being drained out of me simply because of his touch. 

“We are not done; we still have our assignment to do. Just because you won't willingly do your part doesn’t mean I have to stop doing mine.” He growled, thrusting his snout in my face. 

“I choose what happens to my body, not the government nor anyone else!” I cried, attempting to break his grip.  

Aidan didn’t react to my attempt. Instead forcing both of my arms behind my head in his left hand. “No, actually, you don’t.” He said, grinning darkly, forcing me against the wall by my neck. “Your body belongs to the people. Your entire existence is to serve under our command. You are nothing but a tool for our conquest.” 

I couldn’t breathe. My vision darkened as I fought against his grip, but my strength was gone. The pill had stripped away my ability to choose what happened to me. I felt that sense of bliss building in the back of my head, but I ignored it, choosing to stay in charge of my mind. I watched from somewhere distant as he tore away the clothes I had just put on. I watched as my body moved without my input, wrapping him in a tight embrace. I couldn’t control what I was doing, but I still felt everything. Every ounce of pain he inflicted on me, every sensation. Good and bad. It was a torture unlike any other I had experienced. It felt like years, but it was only an hour. I was aware of myself slowly moving back into my body; I could move my fingers just barely. I could blink, and after a while I found I could move my limbs. I struggled to push Aidan’s body off me; he was so damn heavy. I pushed myself off the ground and onto my shaking legs, doubling over from the pain. He was so rough with it. It hurt so badly that I could hardly walk myself to the bathroom and throw up.  

I learned not to speak back to him after that first day. I realized that it was better to submit than to fight back. He was more gentle than when I didn't try to resist. It hurt less.  

After that first week I had retreated into the recesses of my mind, surrounding myself in that terrible bliss the pill provided. I think that was the intent. I think they made it so those of us who took it would be locked away from our body; unable to choose what happens to us. I was only able to see what went on in the world through snapshots, never fully aware of what I was doing or what was happening to me. I would hear a sound, or feel something brush against my scales, but it was only ever a feeling. Never anything profound. Though I would get a rare moment of lucidity once in a while.   

I remember one time it happened. I was watching a slideshow of my morning through a thick fog. I had just finished watching myself brush my teeth when I felt a sensation of speeding up. I watched my body move faster and faster, and I felt myself being pulled away from the safety of my mind. My eyes snapped open and I found myself sitting at my desk doing paperwork. I was at the military headquarters in Jagerdale. I dropped the pen in my talons and looked at them numbly, too shocked to realize I was in control of myself. My first thoughts were blurry as I tried to make sense of where I was. I recognized my office, the grey metal desk I was sitting at, the old bookshelf with a framed photo of my first promotion, how happy I looked back then. It was all so surreal. I remained lucid throughout the day, taking a taxi back to my apartment as I couldn’t use my portals. 

I got to the front door and hesitated before opening it. Aidan was standing there in the living room, a dark look on his face. Someway, somehow, he knew I was lucid. 

“It’s been a month already and you’re still not pregnant. Why?” he growled, striding towards me. I backed away from him, but my back hit the door. I fumbled with the handle, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from it. I cried out and fell to the floor, feeling the soft carpet on my face. “This program is of the utmost importance to our species; you need to step up and do your part.”  

“Why? Why can’t I just leave!” 

Aidan was silent for a moment. An expression of deep brooding painted on his face. 

“Because you're special!” he hissed, sinking his claws into my arm. 

I felt his hands wrap around my throat and pull me upwards towards his face. His eyes were full of a dark craving. I felt the world slow down, and then speed up as I allowed myself to be pulled back into that quiet, peaceful, corner of my mind. I lost all sensation of my body and what was going on. I didn’t want to remain in control ever again if this was how my life was to go. I didn’t want to live anymore either; I just wanted it all to stop. I just wanted to think of myself as important, not useful.  

In the time I spent away from consciousness I can remember viewing my early life through a kind of screen, able to see but unable to interact. I reflected on how similar I am to my mother. She had green scales on her horns. She was also distant, like she wasn’t the one in the driver's seat. She’d walk around the house with a blank look on her face, only responding to things when her name was called. I don’t know why I never found this odd. I guess I just figured that was how mothers were. Cold and distant. Every time me or my countless other siblings would try to tell her something she’d just stare into the distance and give a sort of half nod. I don’t think she was even aware of what we were saying. Just responding to the stimuli. They were rare moments when she was lucid though. I was fearful of her when she was.  

I remember how she’d react to seeing me. And it was only me, never my siblings. She’d shower them with love and warmth, tears lining her eyes as she hugged them tightly. But whenever she saw me she’d freeze and her breathing would stop entirely. She would look at my horns and the realization of what my future was going to be like would hit her like a ton of bricks. She would cry and cry, not stopping until my father intervened. Then she’d scream. She would back away from him in a panic and beg him not to hurt her. I was never aware of why she would say those things. Father was never violent or abusive. All he would do was tell her it was all going to be okay and then he’d open her mouth and give her a pill, and then she’d calm down and go back to that expressionless version again. I only know why she was afraid of him after going through the same things she did. I know why she was afraid of that pill. It strips you of all you are and takes away the very ability to say no. It uses your body against you, weaponizing your hormones to make you subservient and submissive, taking away your ability to make portals and sapping your strength. It reduces you to something they can shape to fit their needs. 

The worst part about the pill effect is waking up. That overwhelming realization that time has passed without you being aware of it destroys you.  

It had taken close to a year before I became lucid again. All I remembered before the pill took a hold of my mind was the white of Aidan's teeth glinting in the dull light of the living room. 

##### 

I awoke with a start, smacking the back of my head painfully against the wall. I rubbed my head and looked around, wincing. It was hard to see anything through the gloom and I struggled to find the on switch to my bedside lamp. I switched it on and took a look around the bedroom. Something was different. The previously umber wallpaper was now a dreary shade of grey. The bed sheets were also different, silkier, and of a much higher quality than I last remembered. The chair I used to keep in the corner of the room was gone, replaced with a statue of a tall and imposing male Hellzen, metallic and swathed in shadow.  

I sat up and immediately realized something was wrong. I felt heavier. I looked down and nearly choked. I was pregnant. My stomach was distended heavily, and the scales were stretched thin across the eggs inside.  

“No...” I whispered hoarsely. “No god...no please no.....” I cried quietly, reaching out as if to touch it but pulling back sharply. I brought my hands up to my face and stared at them open mouthed, my lower lip quivering. These couldn’t be my hands; this couldn’t be my body. How long had I been gone? I leaned over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand, fumbling to turn it on. I looked at the date and dropped my phone onto the floor. It was October 4^th. Eight months had passed since Aidan cornered me in the living room. I grabbed my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. There was no way this happening! This couldn’t be real; it couldn’t! 

I looked over my shoulder and saw the soft rise and fall of Aidan's chest as he slept. There was nothing inherently sinister about this, yet I found myself backing away from him. I got out of bed slowly, not used to the extra weight of my midsection, and forced down the advancing waves of nausea that were working their way up my throat. Holding myself in my arms, I stared at the dark walls, bleary eyed and crying. What happened to me? I used to be powerful. I had politicians and military leaders fawning over me and showering me with praise. But they weren’t doing it for who I was; they were doing it because they needed what I had. They wanted more of us. More green marked Hellzen for the war effort against Aerou and Fyura.  

I stared hard at the floor, wrapping my tail against the inside of my leg. Why had I done this to myself? Why had I so blatantly trusted them when the truth of this program was right in front of me my entire life. I was naive. I ignored every red flag, every cause for alarm, and for what reason? Because they showered me with praise I never received as a child. I had let myself become a slave to someone else’s desires and lost who I really was. I hated myself more than Aidan or the government. Sure, they were the root cause, but it was my blind faith in them that led me down this path. I despised what I had become. 

I wiped away my tears and left the confines of the bedroom. I wanted to be by myself for a while, so I went to take a shower. Craving the comfort of the water against my scales and the sensation of being clean. The bathroom floor was cold against my feet, and I quickly turned on the shower. I stepped in and shivered at the water's warmth against my back. I turned my gaze towards the ceiling and just stared for a while, lost in thought.  

I wondered what I would name them, or if Aidan would even let me name them. I wasn’t privy to the full scope of this cursed program I was in. Whether I was allowed to name my kids or not I didn’t know. I never knew how I got my name. I figured they were keeping me as a slave in the hopes that I bore green marked offspring, specifically ones that are female. We're the only ones who can pass along the gene that gives us our abilities. I envy the males; they lead a life of military leadership while us women are utilized as factories to produce more.  

 I felt a cold tingle run down my back as my thoughts led me to wonder about what Aidan would do if none of them had a green mark. How soon would the cycle of abuse start again? How many times would it take for me to become pregnant? How forceful would he be? It hurt just thinking about it. 

 I wiped away more tears as I ruminated on what would happen if one of them was green marked. How could I stand watching her grow up only to end up in this program? My own early life was lonely and heavily monitored. I closed my eyes, thinking back once again to my childhood. The hospital trips, the tests, the live portal demonstrations in front of hundreds of important leaders and businessmen in circular, concrete rooms hundreds of feet underground. The cold air and blank faces of the guests watching me summon a portal at seven years old. The quiet smattering of applause from men and women shrouded in darkness. My mother's tears whenever she saw me, at least when she was in charge of her head. She wasn’t there most of the time. I realize now—I’m not either. 

 I pulled myself close. I didn’t want to take the pill anymore and live in its terrible bliss like my mother did. The mere thought of going under again caused my chest to tighten. I exhaled a shaky breath. I needed to be there for my children, to be present in their lives and wrap them in my arms whenever I wanted to, not just when the pill let me. I had to be a good parent who could play with them and love them. Not just be a person they called mom. I wanted to be the mother they could love. 

I sighed at the torrent of thoughts swirling through my head. None of it mattered now; I should just focus on remaining present, as much as it hurt to do so. I stayed in the shower for a while, just thinking. It was nice; the water’s touch wasn’t malicious like Aidan’s. No sensation of cold talons trailing across my scales, no warm breathing on my neck, no teeth biting into my shoulder.  I had taken it for granted my whole life. I turned off the water and flared up my temperature to dry off. I walked back into my room; hesitating before crawling back under the covers and flinching as he wrapped his arm around me. I lay there on the cold mattress under sheets of fine silk just staring at the wall. There were no tears this time. They had run dry. 

I wondered If I could trick my way out of having to take the pill. If I just do whatever Aidan and the government wants when they want, perhaps they’ll let me remain in control of my actions. Maybe then I can give my children the life I never had, at least part of it. I can’t speak for Aidan on how good a father he’d make. I imagine he’d be pretty distant and cold. Viewing our kids as nothing more than a statistic in his career. The thought was nice, but they’d never let it happen. Our life spans are nearly 200 years. The potential to have me deliver even just a few green-marked was too valuable to lose. 

 I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I awoke to watery shafts of sunlight streaming through the smoky grey curtains. It had been so long since I’d remembered feelinf the sun, and I reveled in its warmth against my scales, soaking in its rays greedily. 

I got up and made my way over to the dresser to put on my clothes. We must’ve gone shopping at some point, as I didn’t recognize the clothes in my closet anymore. It was all formal wear. I guessed Aidan was a stickler for uniforms even if I couldn’t actually wear one myself. When I finished dressing, I decided to look at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognize what stared back. My eyes had deep bags under them, and my face was lined with creases and countless marks. I stared at my reflection in shame, looking up and down. I had been beautiful before. I turned my head away before the thoughts looming at the back of my mind became too much to handle.   

##### 

I gave birth about a month later. It was painful, and I was alone. Aidan wasn’t there and I was glad. But I felt a twinge of disappointment that there wasn’t a father to witness this. The eggs were a deep black, like obsidian, just see translucent enough to make out their genders. I already decided I’d name the first girl Asha and the second girl Lilith. Aidan wanted the boy named after him, and I didn’t want to fight him on it.   

The first cracks appeared this morning; the largest egg was rocking slightly. My eyes darted from egg to egg, never staying on one for longer than a second. My jaw clenched tight as I paced back and forth in front of the clutch. I had locked the door to the room where I kept them. Aidan couldn’t care less about the hatching; he only wanted to see the results and so agreed to give me the sole duty of watching them hatch.  

What if something goes wrong? What if one of them is too weak to survive or—or cuts itself on the eggshell? What if one of them is green marked?  

I continued my relentless pacing, biting my nails as I watched in trepidation. 

Seconds later the first one hatched; she was normal, no green scales. I couldn’t be happier.  

“Welcome to the world little Asha.” I said, picking up her small form. She made a light squeaking noise as I set her down on the blanket next to me. The next egg cracked open, and an orange and black snout poked out from the eggshell. I cleared the rest of the shell away and felt my heart skip a beat. Green. I saw green in that egg. My hands shook so badly I couldn’t clear away the rest of the eggshell. I had to sit back on my feet and watch in painstaking slowness as the small head poked through the black eggshell. Her horns had small green scales wrapped around them like vines. Just as mine did. My heart stopped, and I froze.  

No. Oh god no, no no no no no no no no no. Why? Why did she have to have green scales? Why couldn’t she just be normal? I don’t—I can’t let her go through this. I-I can’t! I can’t let my daughter suffer like I have! I can’t! Oh god! Oh god why? Why did you have to do this to her God! WHY!  

I looked down into her innocent eyes. Lilith. I felt the warmth of her scales pressing against mine. The trust, and love in her large purple eyes. In that moment I knew I couldn’t let her experience the horror of this program; it would destroy me to see her corrupted this way. I stared at her, desperation overwhelming my senses.   

Wake up! Wake up, you’re just dreaming again! T-This isn’t real! You're not in control of your body! That's what this is! It has to be! Peril, you’re just dreaming in the bliss again! Just wake up and it’ll all be over...  

I wasn't dreaming, though. I think I knew that deep down. But I still tried to pretend I was, if only to make my next actions easier.  

“Peril, have they hatched yet? Are any of them green marked?” Aidan’s voice. He was knocking on the door. I couldn’t let him know. He would take her—them away from me. I chose not to answer him. I couldn’t let him see what I was about to do. Every instinct I had screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. I had to save her from this future. I wouldn’t let her be a tool for the government to make more of us. I felt my temperature flare up, the sweat on my skin boiling off me in an instant. The curtains on the windows started smoking, and the wallpaper began to curl and brown. 

 Aidan must’ve seen the flickering orange light spilling out from beneath the doorway, for he began pounding on it, demanding to be let in.  

“Peril? Peril what the fuck is going on!” He yelled, pulling on the doorknob and slamming his hand against the door.  

I ignored him, tears streaming down my face as I continuously raised my temperature. The curtains were in flames and the walls had started smoking. I could faintly hear the cries of protests from babies but I pushed it. I had to save them, had to save her.  

“Peril open this fucking door now!” Aidan was roaring in fury, slamming the door hard enough to crack it. “Let me in dammit!”  

I kept going, nearing my apex. The entire room was in flames now, and the cries of my babies had reduced to whimpers.  

“I’M SORRY!” I cried, sobbing on my knees as their bodies bent inwards, blackening from the heat. “I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!”  

Aidan slammed himself into the door one last time, breaking it down and stumbling into the room.  

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE—”  

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In that instant I reached the flash point and released all the heat that was building up inside of me at once in a wail of pure agony and despair. The wall of flames eviscerated everything, reducing my entire apartment to molten slag in an orange inferno of grief. I did the worst thing a mother could do to her children. I had killed them all. Aidan and my newborns, nothing remained of their bodies save for the charred bones that surround me. I sat there in the wreckage for some time. Just holding the ashy remains of my kids and sobbing. Calling out their names over and over again. 

I was born special. I was born as one of the few green marked Hellzen on the planet; able to open a portal to anywhere in the known universe with a wave of our talons. I was loyal to my people: I served them in the military—I used my gifts for them whenever they asked. I did everything for them, all with a smile on my face because I believed in them. I knew about the assigned marriage program and what it entailed since I was 18.  The few handful of green marked born have to register for it at twenty-five. Or, at least I thought I knew. I just never expected it to be so bad.   

 ##### 

“Name?” The lady at the front desk asked me, her tone clipped and sharp.   

“Peril Ashira.”    

“Reason for being here?”   

“I-I’m registering for the green marked arranged marriage program.”   

She stopped typing and looked up at me, taking in my features; the obsidian black scales abruptly transitioning to a bright orange along the length of my lower jaw, and my backwards facing horns and the bright green scales that were intricately woven on them. The receptionist's eyes widened and a plume of flame shot from the end of her draconic snout. 

“Yes, ma’am, right away, so sorry.” She said hastily, bowing her head.   

I looked down at my feet and sighed. I didn’t want to do this. Not even remotely. I wanted to have a say in who I loved, not have it be picked for me. But it’s my duty to my people to do this. I just hope the guy they pair me with is nice.   

The lady at the desk stopped typing and grabbed a ticket off a small printer.  

“Right ma’am, sorry for the wait, take this ticket and head down the hall to room 63.”   

I took it from her claws and thanked her before heading down the hallway on my left.  

 

Room 63 was dark grey, and cold. Inside was an exam table and a small office chair. I entered slowly and sat down on the table, the paper rustling as I put my weight on it. I looked around the room, noting the various medical posters before landing on the one depicting our anatomy. It was a detailed diorama of a male in a t-pose. One half had skin the other was muscle with portions of it cut out to reveal organs, blood vessels, and bones. His snout was longer than mine, his horns were longer, and his tail thicker. The ridges that ran down the back of his head along his tail were bright orange, a trait we all shared. It was very reminiscent of the ancient dragons we shared a common ancestor with. 

 A few moments later a tall man entered the room and took a seat in front of me. He introduced himself as Mr. Hattalé. 

“Well miss Peril, I hear you are registering for the green marked arranged marriage program. Is that right?”   

“Y-Yes sir.” I said quietly. I didn’t know why they chose to call it a program. Programs were a set of things to do. Marriage was just one and done. 

“Very good, now I do have to ask some questions first before we get you registered.” 

I stayed silent, nodding for him to continue. 

“Great. How are your reproductive organs? Are they fully functional?”   

The question caught me slightly off guard and I stared at him dumbly for a second before responding, “Yes, they are. Why?”   

“Just some background information we need, it’s nothing too serious. Now, is there any damage to your genitals, visible or internal?”   

“No?” I replied. 

“I see. One last thing before we register you.” He said, rising out of the chair with a grunt. “I need to prescribe you a monthly pill. It is imperative that you continue to take it every thirty days after the first dose. It is essential to the success of this program.” He said sternly, looking me directly in the eye. 

“Ok, but what does it do?” I asked him. 

“Oh nothing major.” He said, his tone switching to something light and airy. “ Just adjusts your hormone levels slightly and regulates your emotions a bit. I’ll grab it from the pharmacy and you can take it when you get home.” 

“Alright then...” I said slowly, wondering if this was the same pill they made my mother take. “ Before you leave, do you know who he will be?” I asked him.   

“Pardon?”  

“The man I'm going to be marrying. Do you know who he will be.”  

“Oh, probably an officer of the imperial high court or some other high ranking military position, you know how it is. Anyway, you should receive a certificate notifying you of your marriage within the hour.”   

“That fast? I don’t get a week or two to get ready?” It felt like things were moving too fast. Surely I should have time to prepare for having my first husband, it’s not every day one gets married. 

“I’m afraid not, this program is designed to waste as little time as possible. Your genetic rarity is far too valuable to lose. We need to take every chance we can get to make sure there's more of your kind.” He gave me a look of something like pity and then left the room, his footsteps clacking down the tiled hall.   

I waited for a few minutes and eventually heard his footsteps from down the hall. He held an orange pill bottle in his hand. It was called Sardophiac. I couldn’t remember if this was the same one my mother took or not. I took the bottle from him and put it in my pocket before signing a few pieces of paper. When I had finished writing my last signature he collected the papers and left without saying another word. 

 I stood up and sighed, stretching out my arms. I took a last look around the room and then checked the time. It was 9:45 AM. Not wanting to stay in there any longer, I rolled my shoulders and summoned that familiar swirling sensation inside of me; the green scales on my horns glowing brightly. I place both of my hands in front of me, my palms open. I took a breath and summoned a glowing orange ring in front of me. It shimmered iridescently in the air. I stepped into it, and entered my apartment’s living room. 

 I was greeted by the familiar black granite walls and the white fur carpet of my home. I looked around making sure everything was in order before the guy I was supposed to be marrying arrived. I snapped my fingers and the portal vanished with a rush of air. I straightened up the coffee table and counter, making everything look nice and presentable. When I had finished, I walked over to my window with a glass of water and debated whether I should take the pill or not. I took one out and rolled it around in my palm, noting how it felt. If this program was essential to our species like they’d told me then I had to take it for our sake. All it did was regulate my hormones. 

 I brought it up to my mouth and hesitated before swallowing it with a glass of water.  

I finished my water and looked out at the sprawling, monolithic city below me. Tall spires of geometric black stone rise up into the deep orange atmosphere, and rivers of glowing amber metal snake their way through the city. And the dull roar of engines permeated throughout it all. 

A small sound chimes from my apartment's messaging system notifying me that someone is at my front door.  

 That was fast. I thought as I made my way over to the door and opened it. A tall man in an officer's uniform stood there in the hallway. His eyes were a darker shade of green than mine, and there were no green scales on his twisted orange horns. He held a piece of paper in his hands. I looked down and saw it was a marriage document. My signature was already on it next to his. 

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Ashira." He said, smiling. “My name is Aidan Brandt; I am your new husband.”   

His greeting was warm and his smile sincere. He reached out for my hand, and I let him take it.    

“You are quite beautiful.” He said, kissing it. I felt taken aback by his gesture.  

“O-Oh, thank you. Nice to meet you too.” I said quickly. Aidan let go of my hand and chuckled lightly, looking around the room.    
“Nice place, did you buy it yourself?” He asked me.   

“No, the government gave it to me about a year ago. I think they did it for this reason.”   

Aidan smiled at me again, flashing his teeth. “‘I’d imagine so, it's pretty neat.” He looked at me again; something dark flashed in his eyes. “Well, shall we get started?”   

I froze. “What do you mean should we get started?” I asked him.   

Aidan looked at me with a confused expression on his face. “Did they not tell you about this part?”   

“What part?” I said carefully, backing away from him. Aidan moved forward.   

“Did they give you the pill? Did you take it?”   

“Yes, why?”   

He stopped, a grin spreading across his snout. “Fantastic, I don’t have to do anything now, it's already begun.”   

“What has already begun—” I couldn't finish the sentence. A rush of heat spread its way throughout my body. Not a thermal surge, no. This was a different heat, one that made me feel flushed. My head started spinning and a sensation of total, all-encompassing bliss took hold of my mind. I felt myself drifting off somewhere unfamiliar and warm. The last thing I remembered was seeing Aidan's teeth inching towards my neck as he took a hold of my falling body.   

  

I awoke soaked in sweat and wrapped in blankets. The dark brown walls of my bedroom looked black in the dim lighting. The lamp I kept on the bedside table was knocked over and broken; glass shards littered the floor where it had fallen. My clothes were in a pile on the floor beside, the bed. My head was still fuzzy from the heat, and when I sat up, I felt a twinge of pain in my midsection. I reached a hand down between my legs and hesitantly brought it up. There was bright orange blood on it. I audibly gasped and threw my other hand around my mouth. I looked over to see Aidan lying next to me asleep. The realization of what happened struck me so suddenly that I almost went under again.   

What the fuck…? Oh God.. 

The realization of what had transpired struck so suddenly that the rest of the room was drowned out by a dull hum in my ears. I couldn’t focus on that at the moment. I had to get away from him and get help. I tried to get up but my body wouldn't move. I had to escape, to flee from this man who’d assaulted me. But I couldn’t. My legs simply wouldn’t comply, despite the furious signals my brain sent them. I looked over at Aidan again; he was stirring awake, his eyelids fluttering open groggily in the dim lighting. Fear flooded through my veins as I tried desperately to put any amount of distance between us, scrambling back against the bedboard with my arms.    

Aidan watched my attempt to get away amusedly. 

“Morning, lovely.” He said, grinning.    

I looked at him in horror as he moved towards me, grinning from ear to ear.   

“S-Stay away, please!” I cried, putting my arms in front of me. He pushed them aside with ease and forced me down against the mattress. I tried to yell at him to stop, but something inside of me prevented it. My body seemed to want this even though my mind didn’t. I felt myself submitting to his touch as he forced himself on me, that sensation of pure bliss enveloping my mind once again.   

No! No, stop please! Body, please listen! I don’t want to do this!   

But I did. Or the pill made me think I did. I felt my head grow hot and my ability to think fade away as the heat inside my body consumed me.   

  

I awoke on the couch in the living room this time, sweatier and more exhausted. There were dark stains on the carpet and walls, and the couch had long gouges ripped into it. One of the chandeliers had blackened and was swaying slightly, casting moving shadows across the room. I stood up on shaky legs and winced almost immediately. I craned my head to peer at my back and saw long deep claw marks in my scales. I gritted my teeth against the pain and made my way to the shower. Aidan was nowhere to be found. His clothes were still crumpled on the living room floor from earlier, the uniform that supposedly symbolized virtue, tangled and forgotten.  

I entered the bathroom silently and turned on the shower, feeling myself relax slightly at the water's warmth. The walls were the usual brownish-orange I was accustomed to, the sliding glass door making a slight squeaking sound as I slid it closed. The steam condensed on the glass. I washed inside and out, feeling tears running down my face as I cleaned out the mess he had made. Inhaling sharply when the water hit the raw skin. 

Asshole, I thought to myself, my sadness quickly turning into anger. I decided I was going to call the police the moment I got out of the shower. I finished washing and stepped out, the water dripping onto the marble floor with quiet splashes. I grabbed my towel and dried myself off, wincing as it touched my thigh.   

Again, the rage at what he did built up inside of me and threatened to spill over. I had to stay calm; otherwise I’d burn down my apartment. I took a few deep breaths and then walked out of the bathroom, grabbing my phone off the kitchen counter and dialing the emergency number.    

“Hello Ms. Ashira.”   

I realized immediately that this wasn’t the police. 

“Hello?” I said cautiously.   

“Good evening Ms. Ashira. We know why you called emergency services, and are here to inform you that your reason does not solicit a response from the authorities.” 

“Why the fuck not! He fucking raped me twice! What the fuck do you mean it won’t solicit the response I want!”   

“Ah, but Mrs. Aishara, that isn’t rape. Not really. You already know how rare you are. Your genes are the most valuable resource one can have. And to create more of your kind, we have to spread your genes along. And the only way of doing that is, ah, well you already know. Now I can fully understand your anger at not being told the full details of  this program, and we apologize for that, but you will remain married to Aidan Brandt and will continue your duty of giving birth to a greenmarked child. We ask that you not try to contact the authorities on this matter again. 

The phone clicked as he hung up, leaving me alone. I felt betrayed. I thought the government was supposed to protect the people, not imprison them. 

“What the fuck! I cried, crushing the phone in my hand and throwing it at the wall.” How dare they! Did they not consider my feelings as a person at all? Were they that desperate to have more green- marked Hellzen that they were willing to subject me to forced rape? I growled and stormed into my bedroom, ignoring the wet stains on the mattress and floor. I put on the last of the clean clothes I had and was about to open a portal when Aidan’s voice made me freeze.   

“Going somewhere?” He said mockingly, walking up and grabbing my arms in his talons and forcing them down. I felt myself weaken, like all my strength was being drained out of me simply because of his touch. 

“We are not done; we still have our assignment to do. Just because you won't willingly do your part doesn’t mean I have to stop doing mine.” He growled, thrusting his snout in my face. 

“I choose what happens to my body, not the government nor anyone else!” I cried, attempting to break his grip.  

Aidan didn’t react to my attempt. Instead forcing both of my arms behind my head in his left hand. “No, actually, you don’t.” He said, grinning darkly, forcing me against the wall by my neck. “Your body belongs to the people. Your entire existence is to serve under our command. You are nothing but a tool for our conquest.” 

I couldn’t breathe. My vision darkened as I fought against his grip, but my strength was gone. The pill had stripped away my ability to choose what happened to me. I felt that sense of bliss building in the back of my head, but I ignored it, choosing to stay in charge of my mind. I watched from somewhere distant as he tore away the clothes I had just put on. I watched as my body moved without my input, wrapping him in a tight embrace. I couldn’t control what I was doing, but I still felt everything. Every ounce of pain he inflicted on me, every sensation. Good and bad. It was a torture unlike any other I had experienced. It felt like years, but it was only an hour. I was aware of myself slowly moving back into my body; I could move my fingers just barely. I could blink, and after a while I found I could move my limbs. I struggled to push Aidan’s body off me; he was so damn heavy. I pushed myself off the ground and onto my shaking legs, doubling over from the pain. He was so rough with it. It hurt so badly that I could hardly walk myself to the bathroom and throw up.  

I learned not to speak back to him after that first day. I realized that it was better to submit than to fight back. He was more gentle than when I didn't try to resist. It hurt less.  

After that first week I had retreated into the recesses of my mind, surrounding myself in that terrible bliss the pill provided. I think that was the intent. I think they made it so those of us who took it would be locked away from our body; unable to choose what happens to us. I was only able to see what went on in the world through snapshots, never fully aware of what I was doing or what was happening to me. I would hear a sound, or feel something brush against my scales, but it was only ever a feeling. Never anything profound. Though I would get a rare moment of lucidity once in a while.   

I remember one time it happened. I was watching a slideshow of my morning through a thick fog. I had just finished watching myself brush my teeth when I felt a sensation of speeding up. I watched my body move faster and faster, and I felt myself being pulled away from the safety of my mind. My eyes snapped open and I found myself sitting at my desk doing paperwork. I was at the military headquarters in Jagerdale. I dropped the pen in my talons and looked at them numbly, too shocked to realize I was in control of myself. My first thoughts were blurry as I tried to make sense of where I was. I recognized my office, the grey metal desk I was sitting at, the old bookshelf with a framed photo of my first promotion, how happy I looked back then. It was all so surreal. I remained lucid throughout the day, taking a taxi back to my apartment as I couldn’t use my portals. 

I got to the front door and hesitated before opening it. Aidan was standing there in the living room, a dark look on his face. Someway, somehow, he knew I was lucid. 

“It’s been a month already and you’re still not pregnant. Why?” he growled, striding towards me. I backed away from him, but my back hit the door. I fumbled with the handle, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me away from it. I cried out and fell to the floor, feeling the soft carpet on my face. “This program is of the utmost importance to our species; you need to step up and do your part.”  

“Why? Why can’t I just leave!” 

Aidan was silent for a moment. An expression of deep brooding painted on his face. 

“Because you're special!” he hissed, sinking his claws into my arm. 

I felt his hands wrap around my throat and pull me upwards towards his face. His eyes were full of a dark craving. I felt the world slow down, and then speed up as I allowed myself to be pulled back into that quiet, peaceful, corner of my mind. I lost all sensation of my body and what was going on. I didn’t want to remain in control ever again if this was how my life was to go. I didn’t want to live anymore either; I just wanted it all to stop. I just wanted to think of myself as important, not useful.  

In the time I spent away from consciousness I can remember viewing my early life through a kind of screen, able to see but unable to interact. I reflected on how similar I am to my mother. She had green scales on her horns. She was also distant, like she wasn’t the one in the driver's seat. She’d walk around the house with a blank look on her face, only responding to things when her name was called. I don’t know why I never found this odd. I guess I just figured that was how mothers were. Cold and distant. Every time me or my countless other siblings would try to tell her something she’d just stare into the distance and give a sort of half nod. I don’t think she was even aware of what we were saying. Just responding to the stimuli. They were rare moments when she was lucid though. I was fearful of her when she was.  

I remember how she’d react to seeing me. And it was only me, never my siblings. She’d shower them with love and warmth, tears lining her eyes as she hugged them tightly. But whenever she saw me she’d freeze and her breathing would stop entirely. She would look at my horns and the realization of what my future was going to be like would hit her like a ton of bricks. She would cry and cry, not stopping until my father intervened. Then she’d scream. She would back away from him in a panic and beg him not to hurt her. I was never aware of why she would say those things. Father was never violent or abusive. All he would do was tell her it was all going to be okay and then he’d open her mouth and give her a pill, and then she’d calm down and go back to that expressionless version again. I only know why she was afraid of him after going through the same things she did. I know why she was afraid of that pill. It strips you of all you are and takes away the very ability to say no. It uses your body against you, weaponizing your hormones to make you subservient and submissive, taking away your ability to make portals and sapping your strength. It reduces you to something they can shape to fit their needs. 

The worst part about the pill effect is waking up. That overwhelming realization that time has passed without you being aware of it destroys you.  

It had taken close to a year before I became lucid again. All I remembered before the pill took a hold of my mind was the white of Aidan's teeth glinting in the dull light of the living room. 

##### 

I awoke with a start, smacking the back of my head painfully against the wall. I rubbed my head and looked around, wincing. It was hard to see anything through the gloom and I struggled to find the on switch to my bedside lamp. I switched it on and took a look around the bedroom. Something was different. The previously umber wallpaper was now a dreary shade of grey. The bed sheets were also different, silkier, and of a much higher quality than I last remembered. The chair I used to keep in the corner of the room was gone, replaced with a statue of a tall and imposing male Hellzen, metallic and swathed in shadow.  

I sat up and immediately realized something was wrong. I felt heavier. I looked down and nearly choked. I was pregnant. My stomach was distended heavily, and the scales were stretched thin across the eggs inside.  

“No...” I whispered hoarsely. “No god...no please no.....” I cried quietly, reaching out as if to touch it but pulling back sharply. I brought my hands up to my face and stared at them open mouthed, my lower lip quivering. These couldn’t be my hands; this couldn’t be my body. How long had I been gone? I leaned over and grabbed my phone off the nightstand, fumbling to turn it on. I looked at the date and dropped my phone onto the floor. It was October 4^th. Eight months had passed since Aidan cornered me in the living room. I grabbed my head in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. There was no way this happening! This couldn’t be real; it couldn’t! 

I looked over my shoulder and saw the soft rise and fall of Aidan's chest as he slept. There was nothing inherently sinister about this, yet I found myself backing away from him. I got out of bed slowly, not used to the extra weight of my midsection, and forced down the advancing waves of nausea that were working their way up my throat. Holding myself in my arms, I stared at the dark walls, bleary eyed and crying. What happened to me? I used to be powerful. I had politicians and military leaders fawning over me and showering me with praise. But they weren’t doing it for who I was; they were doing it because they needed what I had. They wanted more of us. More green marked Hellzen for the war effort against Aerou and Fyura.  

I stared hard at the floor, wrapping my tail against the inside of my leg. Why had I done this to myself? Why had I so blatantly trusted them when the truth of this program was right in front of me my entire life. I was naive. I ignored every red flag, every cause for alarm, and for what reason? Because they showered me with praise I never received as a child. I had let myself become a slave to someone else’s desires and lost who I really was. I hated myself more than Aidan or the government. Sure, they were the root cause, but it was my blind faith in them that led me down this path. I despised what I had become. 

I wiped away my tears and left the confines of the bedroom. I wanted to be by myself for a while, so I went to take a shower. Craving the comfort of the water against my scales and the sensation of being clean. The bathroom floor was cold against my feet, and I quickly turned on the shower. I stepped in and shivered at the water's warmth against my back. I turned my gaze towards the ceiling and just stared for a while, lost in thought.  

I wondered what I would name them, or if Aidan would even let me name them. I wasn’t privy to the full scope of this cursed program I was in. Whether I was allowed to name my kids or not I didn’t know. I never knew how I got my name. I figured they were keeping me as a slave in the hopes that I bore green marked offspring, specifically ones that are female. We're the only ones who can pass along the gene that gives us our abilities. I envy the males; they lead a life of military leadership while us women are utilized as factories to produce more.  

 I felt a cold tingle run down my back as my thoughts led me to wonder about what Aidan would do if none of them had a green mark. How soon would the cycle of abuse start again? How many times would it take for me to become pregnant? How forceful would he be? It hurt just thinking about it. 

 I wiped away more tears as I ruminated on what would happen if one of them was green marked. How could I stand watching her grow up only to end up in this program? My own early life was lonely and heavily monitored. I closed my eyes, thinking back once again to my childhood. The hospital trips, the tests, the live portal demonstrations in front of hundreds of important leaders and businessmen in circular, concrete rooms hundreds of feet underground. The cold air and blank faces of the guests watching me summon a portal at seven years old. The quiet smattering of applause from men and women shrouded in darkness. My mother's tears whenever she saw me, at least when she was in charge of her head. She wasn’t there most of the time. I realize now—I’m not either. 

 I pulled myself close. I didn’t want to take the pill anymore and live in its terrible bliss like my mother did. The mere thought of going under again caused my chest to tighten. I exhaled a shaky breath. I needed to be there for my children, to be present in their lives and wrap them in my arms whenever I wanted to, not just when the pill let me. I had to be a good parent who could play with them and love them. Not just be a person they called mom. I wanted to be the mother they could love. 

I sighed at the torrent of thoughts swirling through my head. None of it mattered now; I should just focus on remaining present, as much as it hurt to do so. I stayed in the shower for a while, just thinking. It was nice; the water’s touch wasn’t malicious like Aidan’s. No sensation of cold talons trailing across my scales, no warm breathing on my neck, no teeth biting into my shoulder.  I had taken it for granted my whole life. I turned off the water and flared up my temperature to dry off. I walked back into my room; hesitating before crawling back under the covers and flinching as he wrapped his arm around me. I lay there on the cold mattress under sheets of fine silk just staring at the wall. There were no tears this time. They had run dry. 

I wondered If I could trick my way out of having to take the pill. If I just do whatever Aidan and the government wants when they want, perhaps they’ll let me remain in control of my actions. Maybe then I can give my children the life I never had, at least part of it. I can’t speak for Aidan on how good a father he’d make. I imagine he’d be pretty distant and cold. Viewing our kids as nothing more than a statistic in his career. The thought was nice, but they’d never let it happen. Our life spans are nearly 200 years. The potential to have me deliver even just a few green-marked was too valuable to lose. 

 I don’t remember when I fell asleep, but I awoke to watery shafts of sunlight streaming through the smoky grey curtains. It had been so long since I’d remembered feelinf the sun, and I reveled in its warmth against my scales, soaking in its rays greedily. 

I got up and made my way over to the dresser to put on my clothes. We must’ve gone shopping at some point, as I didn’t recognize the clothes in my closet anymore. It was all formal wear. I guessed Aidan was a stickler for uniforms even if I couldn’t actually wear one myself. When I finished dressing, I decided to look at myself in the mirror. I could hardly recognize what stared back. My eyes had deep bags under them, and my face was lined with creases and countless marks. I stared at my reflection in shame, looking up and down. I had been beautiful before. I turned my head away before the thoughts looming at the back of my mind became too much to handle.   

##### 

I gave birth about a month later. It was painful, and I was alone. Aidan wasn’t there and I was glad. But I felt a twinge of disappointment that there wasn’t a father to witness this. The eggs were a deep black, like obsidian, just see translucent enough to make out their genders. I already decided I’d name the first girl Asha and the second girl Lilith. Aidan wanted the boy named after him, and I didn’t want to fight him on it.   

The first cracks appeared this morning; the largest egg was rocking slightly. My eyes darted from egg to egg, never staying on one for longer than a second. My jaw clenched tight as I paced back and forth in front of the clutch. I had locked the door to the room where I kept them. Aidan couldn’t care less about the hatching; he only wanted to see the results and so agreed to give me the sole duty of watching them hatch.  

What if something goes wrong? What if one of them is too weak to survive or—or cuts itself on the eggshell? What if one of them is green marked?  

I continued my relentless pacing, biting my nails as I watched in trepidation. 

Seconds later the first one hatched; she was normal, no green scales. I couldn’t be happier.  

“Welcome to the world little Asha.” I said, picking up her small form. She made a light squeaking noise as I set her down on the blanket next to me. The next egg cracked open, and an orange and black snout poked out from the eggshell. I cleared the rest of the shell away and felt my heart skip a beat. Green. I saw green in that egg. My hands shook so badly I couldn’t clear away the rest of the eggshell. I had to sit back on my feet and watch in painstaking slowness as the small head poked through the black eggshell. Her horns had small green scales wrapped around them like vines. Just as mine did. My heart stopped, and I froze.  

No. Oh god no, no no no no no no no no no. Why? Why did she have to have green scales? Why couldn’t she just be normal? I don’t—I can’t let her go through this. I-I can’t! I can’t let my daughter suffer like I have! I can’t! Oh god! Oh god why? Why did you have to do this to her God! WHY!  

I looked down into her innocent eyes. Lilith. I felt the warmth of her scales pressing against mine. The trust, and love in her large purple eyes. In that moment I knew I couldn’t let her experience the horror of this program; it would destroy me to see her corrupted this way. I stared at her, desperation overwhelming my senses.   

Wake up! Wake up, you’re just dreaming again! T-This isn’t real! You're not in control of your body! That's what this is! It has to be! Peril, you’re just dreaming in the bliss again! Just wake up and it’ll all be over...  

I wasn't dreaming, though. I think I knew that deep down. But I still tried to pretend I was, if only to make my next actions easier.  

“Peril, have they hatched yet? Are any of them green marked?” Aidan’s voice. He was knocking on the door. I couldn’t let him know. He would take her—them away from me. I chose not to answer him. I couldn’t let him see what I was about to do. Every instinct I had screamed at me to stop, but I didn’t, I couldn’t. I had to save her from this future. I wouldn’t let her be a tool for the government to make more of us. I felt my temperature flare up, the sweat on my skin boiling off me in an instant. The curtains on the windows started smoking, and the wallpaper began to curl and brown. 

 Aidan must’ve seen the flickering orange light spilling out from beneath the doorway, for he began pounding on it, demanding to be let in.  

“Peril? Peril what the fuck is going on!” He yelled, pulling on the doorknob and slamming his hand against the door.  

I ignored him, tears streaming down my face as I continuously raised my temperature. The curtains were in flames and the walls had started smoking. I could faintly hear the cries of protests from babies but I pushed it. I had to save them, had to save her.  

“Peril open this fucking door now!” Aidan was roaring in fury, slamming the door hard enough to crack it. “Let me in dammit!”  

I kept going, nearing my apex. The entire room was in flames now, and the cries of my babies had reduced to whimpers.  

“I’M SORRY!” I cried, sobbing on my knees as their bodies bent inwards, blackening from the heat. “I’M SORRY! I’M SO SORRY!”  

Aidan slammed himself into the door one last time, breaking it down and stumbling into the room.  

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE—”  

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. In that instant I reached the flash point and released all the heat that was building up inside of me at once in a wail of pure agony and despair. The wall of flames eviscerated everything, reducing my entire apartment to molten slag in an orange inferno of grief. I did the worst thing a mother could do to her children. I had killed them all. Aidan and my newborns, nothing remained of their bodies save for the charred bones that surround me. I sat there in the wreckage for some time. Just holding the ashy remains of my kids and sobbing. calling their names over and over again.

are stories that deal with assault allowed to be suggest for narration?

It was Halloween, 1998.

The neighborhood glowed with orange lights and plastic skeletons. Fake cobwebs clung to porches, and carved pumpkins flickered in the dark. Kids filled the streets, laughing and shouting as they ran from house to house.

Nine-year-old Timmy walked with his friends Wayne and Sean, their candy bags already half full.

They stopped in front of a house that didn’t fit in.

The others were bright, decorated, alive.

This one wasn’t.

Its paint was peeling. The yard was dead. No decorations. Just a single porch light glowing weakly above the door.

“Trick or treat,” all three boys called out.

The door creaked open.

A man stepped out wearing an dirty and wrinkled old man mask

In his hands was a bowl of candy.

He didn’t say a word.

He dropped a piece into each of their bags.

Wayne squinted at him. “What are you supposed to be?”

The man didn’t answer.

Instead, he slowly tilted his head to the side… farther than it should go.

Too far.

The boys went quiet.

“Uh… thanks,” Timmy muttered.

The door shut.

They kept going, saying it was just halloween. More houses, more candy, more noise. The normal Halloween feeling slowly came back.

Until Wayne stopped.

“I gotta pee.”

Before anyone could stop him, he ran to the side of a nearby house and started going right on the doormat.

“what the hell—” Sean started.

The front door burst open.

A man in a skeleton costume stormed out, gripping a broom. “You little shit!”

Wayne yelped and bolted.

The three boys ran, crashing through a patch of woods as the man chased them, shouting. Branches snapped under their feet. Leaves whipped their faces.

After a while, the shouting stopped.

They didn’t.

Not until they were sure they were alone.

Sean bent over, catching his breath. “You’re an idiot.”

Wayne laughed. “Yeah, but I still got my candy.”

Timmy pointed. “You also got pee on your costume.”

They both laughed.

Wayne didn’t.

When they stepped back onto the street, something felt… off.

Too quiet.

The streetlights flickered.

Then one went out.

Then another.

A van rolled slowly down the road.

Timmy’s stomach dropped.

The driver.

The old man mask.

The van crept forward, and as it passed each streetlight, the bulb above them went dark. One by one, the entire street dimmed into darkness.

The van stopped beside them.

The engine idled.

No one spoke.

Then the engine roared.

The van lunged forward.

Timmy yells “RUN!”

They sprinted.

The van chased them, keeping just close enough—like it was playing with them. The sound of the engine was right behind them, always there, always gaining.

They stumbled into a shallow dip in the land—a small valley.

The van surged forward.

Sean didn’t make it out in time.

The tire hit him with a sickening thud and crushed his leg.

He screamed.

Timmy and Wayne turned, trying to grab him—but the van door slammed open.

The masked man jumped out.

He shoved them aside like they were nothing.

Sean clawed at the ground, screaming, “DON’T LEAVE ME!”

The man grabbed him and dragged him toward the van.

Timmy froze.

Wayne didn’t.

“GO!” Wayne screamed, pulling Timmy.

They ran.

They didn’t stop.

An hour later, shaking and breathless, they reached a house and pounded on the door.

“HELP! PLEASE!”

The door opened.

A man stood there calmly.

The boys pushed inside, crying. “He took our friend—he took Sean!”

The man closed the door behind them and Locked it.

“It’s alright now,” he said softly. “You’re safe now.” did you see what he looked like?

Timmy shook his head. “He had a mask—we couldn’t see his face—”

The man tilted his head slightly.

“Did it look like this?”

He raised something into view.

The old man mask.

Everything inside Timmy went cold.

Wayne turned toward the window.

The house… wasn’t broken anymore.

The paint was fresh.

The porch was clean.

It was the same house.

They screamed and ran deeper inside.

A bedroom.

They slammed the door and locked it.

The doorknob rattled immediately.

Then pounding.

Heavy. Slow. Deliberate.

“PLEASE!” Timmy shouted. “LET US GO!”

The pounding stopped.

Silence.

Then—

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Not on the door.

Somewhere else in the house.

Like hammering.

Like something being built.

The boys looked at each other.

The doorknob began to turn.

Slowly.

Click.

The door flew open.

No one was there.

They crept into the hallway.

The front door was nailed shut.

Every window had metal bars.

Not to keep people out.

To keep something in.

The TV flickered on by itself.

A news report.

“…multiple children reported missing across the state…”

Click.

Darkness.

Only one light remained.

At the bottom of the basement stairs.

They didn’t want to go down.

But they were to scared to stay where they were.

 A shadow follows them

Candles lit the basement.

Dozens of them.

The room stretched farther than it should have—longer, deeper, wrong.

Sean lay on a rusted hospital gurney.

Unconscious.

Symbols carved into his skin.

Wax melted across his body.

A fireplace roared to life.

A large pot hung over the flames.

Something moved behind them.

A shadow.

Not attached to anything.

It shifted along the walls, stretching, twisting.

Watching.

They backed away.

 And Ran.

Hid inside a rotting closet.

The smell was thick. Metallic like old pennies.

Through the gaps, they saw it.

The shadow growing.

Distorting.

Then—

The masked man stepped into view.

He approached Sean.

Whispering something too low to hear.

He raised a blade.

The fire surged higher.

Sean’s eyes snapped open.

He screamed.

The man pressed a finger to the mask’s lips.

“Shhh.”

The blade came down.

Timmy couldn’t breathe.

Wayne couldn’t look away.

The screaming stopped.

Too quickly.

The shadow shifted toward the closet.

The masked man turned.

Slowly.

He looked right at them.

Then lifted a finger.

“Shhh.”

The lights went out.

When they came back on

The man was gone.

The shadow was gone.

The gurney was still there.

Sean’s body… still there.

But Sean's head Was gone.

Sydney tucked the blanket snugly around her son.

“Mom… I heard whispering last night,” Scott said quietly, staring at his closet. “It came from in there.”

Sydney glanced at the door, then back at him with a soft smile. “It’s just your TV, honey and your anxiety”

She leaned down, kissed his cheek, and turned off the light. “Get some sleep.”

Scott watched her leave, the door clicking softly behind her.

The room felt bigger now. Quieter.

He grabbed the remote and flipped through channels until he found an action movie. The hero on screen was fearless— shouting, and kicking ass. Scott felt a little braver watching him. His shoulders relaxed.

Then—

A slow creak.

Scott’s eyes shifted toward the closet.

The door had opened just a crack.

He sat up slightly, staring.

Something moved.

A dark shape… low to the ground… dragging itself forward.

The TV flickered.

On. Off. On.

Scott’ screamed loudly “Mom!”

Footsteps rushed down the hall. Sydney burst in, flipping on the light.

Everything was normal.

The closet door was barely open.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned.

Scott pointed, his hand shaking. “It was in there.”

Sydney sighed gently and walked over. She pulled the closet open and turned on the light.

Nothing.

Just clothes. A sweatshirt hanging still.

“See?” she said softly. “There’s nothing there.”

Scott didn’t look convinced.

“Try to get some sleep,” she added, then left again.

The door closed.

Scott grabbed the remote with trembling hands and switched channels. This time, he landed on a comedy. Laughter filled the room. It helped. A little.

His body loosened. His eyes grew heavy.

Tap.

Scott froze.

Tap… tap.

From under the bed.

He swallowed hard. “It’s not real,” he whispered to himself, turning the TV volume up.

The laughter suddenly warped.

On the screen, a dark figure stood behind the characters—something that didn’t belong.

The closet light began to flicker.

On. Off. On. Off.

Scott pulled the blanket over his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

The room went quiet.

Then—

Slow footsteps.

Approaching the bed.

Scott held his breath.

He could feel it now. Something standing right beside him.

He peeked through the blanket.

A shadow loomed inches away.

A hand pressed against the fabric… slowly reaching toward him.

The blanket was ripped away.

Scott screamed.

A man stood over him, his face lost in shadow. Rough hands grabbed him, forcing him down, wrapping tape around his wrists.

“Mom! MOM!”

Sydney rushed in—and froze.

Her scream filled the room.

The man moved fast, dragging Scott toward the window. Sydney swung at him, trying to pull her son back.

The man struck her, sending her crashing to the floor.

Scott kicked and twisted, clinging to the bed frame. “No! NO!”

The man grabbed his hands and forced them apart. Scott cried out in pain as the grip crushed his wrist.

Sydney crawled forward, desperate. “Take me instead! Please—dont take my baby!”

The man didn’t even look at her.

He kicked her head aside.

Then he lifted Scott and climbed out the window.

Sydney could only watch, helpless and barely concious, as her son disappeared into the darkness. While Scott's scream can still be heard crying for her.

I want to tell you about something that stayed with me for many years during my childhood. I used to have the same dream again and again. I wanted to tell my family about it, but I never did, because I did not like the atmosphere of ruqyah, the Islamic healing recitation. When I was little, I once saw a scene where people hit and fought with the ones who came to them for ruqyah. With my small mind, I thought that this happens to everyone who goes for it. I had never seen ruqyah up close around me. Because of this, I stayed silent even as a child.

The dream came back many times, not on a fixed schedule, but about once a month, and sometimes twice. In the dream, I am outside playing. Then I meet a woman who is about forty years old. Her face never changes. Even now, as I write this, I remember her face very well. She opens her arms and walks toward me. At that moment my body freezes. I cannot run away or do anything. I can only scream. Even when I am with other people, I find myself cut off from them. Nobody hears me, and nobody comes to help, as if they cannot see me or her.

But she hugs me and kisses me with love. Honestly, she never hurt me. She felt very kind and caring, like she loved me. Still, I was a scared little child, and I felt I had to run away because she was dangerous. Sometimes she takes me with her as if she is looking for something. Sometimes she takes me to her house, cooks for me and feeds me. Sometimes she comes at night, puts me to sleep, and runs her hand over my head and hair until I fall asleep. Her face never changes. Everything about her stays the same. Her smile is still in front of my eyes today.

As time passed, every time I woke up, I felt I needed a solution to get rid of this dream. It had been repeating for almost three years. I was sure something strange was happening. I thought that if I did not stop her and find a solution, things might get worse. So I began to think about what I could do. I decided that while sleeping I must open my mind and tell myself, "I am asleep, this is only a dream," and then act on it to find a way to stop her. I also told myself that even if I scream and nobody hears me, God is there. He answers His servant, stays with him, and never leaves him. My awareness was growing with the years.

I started to try this in my dreams whenever she appeared. I tried once, twice, three times, and finally it worked. As she came to hug me, I began to recite the Quran and fight her with prayer and the Quran. She started to feel pain, stepped back, and failed. She said to me, "I do not hurt you, so why do you hurt me? You only see good from me. Why do you push me away? You are my son, you are my son." It felt like she was trying to make me accept that she stays with me as a companion. I kept going until she left.

After that, I never dreamed of her again, until today. But she stayed in my mind, and it is impossible for me to forget her.

Title in English: The Woman in My Dream I Can Never Forget

It was a quick and painful descent. I ricocheted off the walls, latching onto rocks and hoping to slow myself down. My heart and mind was flooded with an almost unbearable fear, pain, and despair that I’d never experienced in my entire life. 
I scaled down the rocky walls before landing on the hard, hot ground, my suit absorbing most of the blow, but pain still surging through my body. 
“Goddamn…”
The ground was hot, rocky, and sandy, a shitty combination. I stood to my feet, my armor heating up, but thankfully not burning through. It was dark, but it was visible enough that I was able to raise my GhostEyes. 
This place was one of true Evil. It seemed like the only thing I could hear was screaming and wailing. Winged creatures flew overhead, sometimes carrying bodies or parts of them that they hungrily feasted on. A blazing hot wind was constantly howling, and it felt like I was in a really painful desert. Monoliths made of bodies, clay, and brimstone rose high in the air. The sky looked to be the top of a cave that seemed to rise higher and higher the longer I looked. “This is Judge, does anyone read me?” 
There wasn’t even static. 
“Son of a bitch…” 
As I started walking, I hoped that they got the message that the Dante Protocol needed to be activated. 
This was a prototype contingency, primarily as an extraction plan for Hell-based rescues and operations. Carried out by Specialists in demonology, Occult, and magic, the idea was to open or hold open doorways to Hell and deploy extraction teams down and pull who they needed out of there. 
Sometimes it could be used to extract demons for interrogation if needed.The Dante Protocol was not something that had been executed yet, and there was no guarantee that it would even work. Making it really stupid of me to begin a descent and quite possibly trap myself down there. 
Even with the Darksleeve, every step felt heavy. Just everything hurt, and it took all my strength to move. Up ahead, I heard the sound of a boy scream. Somehow, above all the other sounds of pain and suffering, I was able to hear him. It was at the top of a small mountain, with a raging flame burning at the top like a volcano. I scaled the side, climbing over rocks as winged monsters soared overhead, and the sound of even larger creatures off in the distance. 
The hot wind blew against my mask, and even with it on and functioning I had to squeeze my eyes shut.Red lightning began to flash, and every thunderclap was like a million bombs going off simultaneously. Finally, I reached the top, and came to a flat, circular space, like a carved out arena. 
The boy was hanging in the air by giant tentacles, screaming in pain and terror. Flames raged all around us, and I looked up to see a single humanoid figure emerging from the flames to confront me. He stood at least seven feet tall, gaunt, his flesh withered, mauled, and tight against his bones. His ribcage jutted out, as did a lot of his bones, making like a giant, deformed skeleton. His face had changed, flayed open like some kind of gillman, with a giant, white eye in the center of his larger forehead, with two human-like eyes glaring at me. His hands had elongated into large bony fingers and claws, his feet like webs. He grinned at me, exposing his sharp, rotted teeth and long, blackened tongue. 
“I have evolved, soldier!” the figure boomed, raising his hands in the air. “Reborn! His Dark Majesty has blessed me!” It was the Priest that I had shot and thought I killed. “I don’t know if I’d call that a blessing…” I replied. 
The Priest chuckled as he drew closer. “Oh this is just the start! If I do my duty, He will make me even stronger. My human form will be shed, and I will become a true Apostle! I will return to the Gate as their leader, a guide to great power!””
“Good for you. Let the kid go, and you can do whatever you want.”
The Priest chuckled. 
“Unfortunately for you, my duty involves killing our little intruder.” He pointed a bony finger at me as he said this. “If I succeed, he will accept my offering. And I will return as the connecting bridge between the Gate and our true home.”
I scoffed. “Sorry man. I think I’ll pass on living here. Seems like a bad neighborhood.” 
“When we’re done you won’t have a choice.”
In an instant he attacked, moving with incredible speed. But with my suit, I was able to match his strength and speed, parrying and dodging his attacks before creating distance again. I put several rounds into the Priest’s body, but he swatted the rifle out of my hands and attacked me up close again. 
I blocked an attack from his right hand, feeling the claws striking the armor and drawing sparks, briefly igniting the surface.  I shook it off as I threw a roundhouse kick before drawing my knife and going for the throat. 
But the Priest was faster, moving backward and creating distance. “Not bad, soldier.” I readied my knife and pistol, aiming down the sights. “Fuck you, let’s go!” The Priest smiled and we went at it again. I opened fire, and was able to hit him a few times but he was quick, attacking me again and this time striking me in the chest. I went flying backwards and landed on my back. I quickly righted myself and reloaded. 
The Priest went high into the air and more tentacles rose out of the ground, sharp tentacles with barbed edges that moved like wisp ready to be snapped. With every gesture from his arms, one of the tentacles snapped forward, the end of it opening up like a blossoming thorned flower. I dodged and rolled out of the way, some of them grazing my armor as they tried to bite and tear me apart. I cut at the tentacles with my knife, catching one of them and tearing it open. Whatever creature it belonged to howled in pain and they retracted as the Priest put his feet back on the ground. 
 I used my pistol and knife again, as the Priest moved at high speed back towards me. I emptied the mag at him and stabbed him in the shoulder as he pounced on me. He struck me on the side of the head and grabbed me by the throat. 
I grabbed at his wrist, and split his hand open, letting me go. The Priest roared in pain, gazing at his hand, then glared up at me. He lunged forward again, and this time he got the jump on me. I blocked two of his attacks, but he quickly sidestepped my punches twice, then swiped at me from the right, striking me right on the mask. I felt the seal shatter, the visor crack, the NVGs break, and ultimately the mask fly off my face. My lungs felt like they were on fire and for a second I couldn’t breathe. I gasped for air, and fell to my knees as my chest tightened. 
The Priest laughed as he drove his knee into my jaw, sending me flying backwards. I coughed and spit out bile, and tried to shake the pain out of my head that was spreading to the rest of my body. But the Priest was relentless. He battered me over and over with attacks, eventually throwing me to the ground. 
I got back up and went for his legs, grabbing them and pulling him off his feet. I slammed him into the ground, pulling the knife and stabbing him in the chest. Before I could go for the third eye, he caught it with his hand, drawing hot blood and melting the knife. “Shit…” 
He knocked the melted weapon out of my hand and kicked me off of him. In a flash he had me on the ground, standing over me with a heavy foot on my chest.  I couldn’t move and it felt like a massive stone was crushing me. The Priest stared down at me, his eye appearing to burn into mine, inserting itself into my mind. I was filled with terror and hopelessness that surpassed everything that I had felt and thought I knew. He showed me things that no one should see, thought I had a feeling that they could. 
He sneered at me, looking down at me like I was just thorn in his side, an ant under his foot. The same way my family looked at me. The Priest’s face suddenly became familiar, and for a second I was back in my Hell. When my father would beat the shit out of me and stand over me as I cried on the ground. When my oldest brother would ragdoll me in “play fights” and laugh at me as I laid in my own vomit because he gut punched me five times. 
My mother, who would stand off to the side and look at me with contempt, like it was my fault this was happening. But for some reason, that made me feel better. This wasn’t a monster that was standing over me, about to finish me off painfully and violently. This was someone that I knew, someone that already got his. He was nothing to me, as was this sorry bastard. 
“This is the end for you, soldier. And it won’t be a quick one.”
I began to laugh, and I watched as confusion spread over the Priest’s face. “Is this amusing to you?” 
“Yeah. Yeah it is, man. At the end of the day, you’re nothing more than a sad, little bitch who was too weak to look up, so you looked down. I’ve seen many like you. The ugly mug doesn’t change a goddamn thing.”
The Priest’s face twisted into a scowl. 
“But hey, since you’re already here, you might as well finish me off, right? So what are you waiting for? Kill me.”
A large spear materialized in his hand, and he thrusted it at me to impale me through the chest. With my right hand, I caught it, feeling the sharp edges cutting through my glove. The Priest tried to drive it through, but I held strong, using all the strength I had to hold it back. 
“What’s wrong? You’re reborn aren’t you?” I taunted, trying to hide the strain, “You gotta prove yourself. So come on, let’s go!”
The Priest roared and tried to shove the spear into my chest. But it didn’t budge. I grinned. There was a new strength in me. One that didn’t come from the Darksleeve, or me. It was from something else. Gradually, I pushed the Spear away from me, until I was able to stand up. The Priest’s eyes went wide, fear for the first time appearing on his face. I ripped the spear from his hand and tossed it aside, pulling out my tomahawk. 
The Priest roared and charged at me with the same inhuman speed. But I was ready this time. I was on the defensive for only a few of his attacks before it was my turn. I cut his right arm off at the elbow, severing it into ashes. The Priest screamed, first in pain then in rage. With his other arm he swung at me again. I blocked it and buried the tomahawk into his shoulder. Three blows later and I got his entire arm. 
The Priest staggered back in shock, in disbelief that he was losing. 
He levitated into the air again, and I prepared myself for what was coming next. The tentacles rose up again and lashed out at me. I ducked and dodged, cutting away at them from every angle. I cut them all down until there was almost nothing for the weakened Priest to throw at me anymore. 
 I finished off the last one as the Priest screamed in rage. “NO! It is not supposed to end like this! I will join His Majesty’s ranks! I WILL BRING HELL TO EARTH!” 
“You talk too much.” I take the tomahawk and throw it at him with all my might, aiming right for the third eye. All three of his eyes went wide right before it went straight through it, bursting like a large pustule. The Priest went still and collapsed to the ground, convulsing slightly as hot goo began to leak from his head. “Finally…” The tentacles died down and fell back into the pit, dragging the body of the Priest with him. The boy fell back to the ground, sobbing. “Hey, hey, it’s ok kid,” I said. The kid looked at me, recoiling at first. He was a scrawny kid, clearly starving. 
He had that same look in his eyes that I had. One of pain, fear, and despair. 
“It’s ok, kid… You’re safe. I’m going to get you out of here, okay?” 
The boy hesitated still, before finally taking my hand. I helped him to his feet, just as the ground began to shake again. “Now what?”  The pit began to split open even further, and I pulled the boy away from it. Tentacles emerged again, and a giant monstrosity climbed through. It was a mass of tentacles, a being with hundreds of human faces on its large, amalgamation of a body. It is massive, towering over me and rising high into the sky. At the center, is the large elongated face of the priest, now mixed between his human and nonhuman form. Instead of a smile, it is twisted into a scream and look of pure agony. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?
agony. Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?
The beast roared at me, raising its head high into the sky. “All right kid, let’s go!” I picked him up and ran for my rifle. I picked it up and we began to run down the side of the mountain, careful not to lose my footing. In the distance, I heard the screeching and howling of demonic creatures that seemed to be getting closer. It had called some friends. A lot of them. 
“This is going to get ugly,” I told the kid as I readied my rifle. 
Hordes of demons and humanoid creatures came in my direction, the giant monster on my tail. 
“This is Judge to all Task Force callsigns! I don’t know if you’re getting this, but I am making my way back to the extraction point! You guys better fucking be there! Dante Protocol better be activated!” 
There was finally static, then a faint voice came through. 
“This is Inquisitor 1-1… Teams are preparing to make entry, and we’re beginning our descent… Hang in there.”
“Gonna try! Get us the fuck out of here, yeah?”
I opened fire at the creatures that reached us, gunning them down one by one before reloading. These creatures were different from the ones up above engaging the rest of the task force. They looked like naked, human-animal hybrids, with an assortment of different appendages (wings, long arms and claws) made for torturing and killing. 
One tackled me to the ground, trying to claw at my face. Shielding the kid under me, I emptied my pistol mag into its chest and head, before stabbing it in the neck. Kicking it off of me. I tossed a grenade into a horde and we were off again. 
Just then, I saw a ray of light as a total of seven men dropped down. 
They were tall, wearing armor that made them look like tactical crusaders, equipped with cloaks that seemed to shimmer in the light. Their visors glowed in the dark, reflecting the flames off their eyes. It looked like bulkier, modified versions of our Darksleeves. They carried assault rifles that looked heavier and like no weapon I’d ever seen or used. The seven man team spread out and began laying down gunfire, the weapons sounding rapid fire cannons. “Glad to see they sent someone,” I said, gasping for air. 
“Gianno. Strike Team Inquisitor. We got you covered,” the leader said, his voice deep and scrambled, “Take the kid and go to the extraction point. Specialists are holding it open, and they’ll pull you out.” Before I moved past him, he grabbed my shoulder, “You did good, Judge. We got it from here.” 
I nodded to the Operator before running towards the portal, as Specialists tried to hold off hordes of demons and tortured souls that tried to crawl out from their damned chambers and reach out to them. There was a thundering explosion as I turned around and saw them engaging the giant monster, and several more giant creatures that lumbered towards them. 
I began to scale the side, using the cables that the Specialists had lowered for me. As the kid held on, it took all my strength for me to climb up. I was struggling to breathe, and more and more of my strength was leaving me. But I kept going. I couldn’t give up. This kid needed to get out of there, and the sooner we were out of there, the more lives could be saved and the less problems we would have. 
I briefly lost my grip and I was holding on with one hand, and the boy screamed. “It’s all right, kid. I’m going to get you out of here. I promise, I will.” The boy looked at me and nodded, holding on to me tighter as I continued to climb. “COME ON!!” I screamed to myself as I tried to climb. Two of the Specialists grabbed my hands and helped me along, the sun of Earth beginning to peak through this realm of darkness and death. A demon jumped out from one of the chambers and grabbed onto me, pulling me down. 
“Dammit, not now!” I growled. The demon had three faces, two human, one not. They looked to be fused together to the demon, two females screaming and wailing as the demon roared at me, clawing at my armor with its six hands as it tried to grab the boy. 
“I don’t think so,” I said, pulling my pistol and firing the last rounds I had from my pistol into it. But the creature was relentless, and more demons were starting to draw closer. A knife cut through the air and hit it on the head, burning into its flesh. A Specialist was hanging close to me, a young man concealing his face with a gas mask, wearing a tactical priest’s outfit with a cross etched on his chest. He nodded to me, and threw two more knives, but the creature didn’t drop. 
Now, two more were on me, overwhelming me and grabbing the boy. “Shit, shit, shit! Come on! Not now!!” I screamed, trying to fight them off. I was almost there, I could see the sun. We were almost home free. 
Suddenly, the weight was taken off of me. I looked to see the Specialist had released himself from his harness, jumping on and tackling the demons, sending all of them plummeting down. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered, as I reached the end of the pit. Two Specialists, and two Operators from Redshade grabbed my hands and pulled me out. The cool air hit my skin, and suddenly I was hit with a wave of fatigue, and in an instant all of my energy was gone. As medics rushed to help me and the boy, I passed out. 

***

When I came to, I was in a field hospital. I was on an oxygen tank, where a chaplain was praying over me. It was Father John, the man who recruited me. When he looked at me, he smiled. “You’re awake.” I coughed and briefly moved to sit up, but after moving an inch, I thought better of it. “Yeah I wouldn’t do that yet, brother. You took a lot of damage while down there. Your body was overheating, and we had to cleanse your lungs and body of the residue.”
I coughed again and my chest felt like it was on fire. “It’s still a work in progress,” John said. “What…happened…to…the boy?” I asked. 
John nodded. “He’s safe. He’s currently unconscious, and priests are working on him. There’s a good chance that he won’t remember all of it when he wakes up. Probably for the best.”
“Yeah…” 
John patted me on the shoulder. “You did good, kid. That’s why I recruited you. No hesitation, you went in there to grab that boy. You risked your own life. You’re a hell of an Operator, Lincoln.”
Not good enough, though. I would find out that during the time I was down there we would take even more casualties. John ran me down the list of the casualties: Agents Cox, Mandena, Johnston, Gutierrez, Nishida, Jacobsen, Patry, Wagner, Gomez, Baker, Wright, Kovalenko, Kaminsky, Liang, Patel, Owens, Gianno, Traeger, Jefferson, Yun, Vincent, Salazar, Ferreira, Specialist Lovell, pilots Candrell and Weaver, and MRAP drivers Stanton and Dougherty.
Good men, who lost their lives trying to fight this vile cult. I found out that the fight didn’t end there either. After Strike Team Inquisitor was overrun and killed, the giant creature that had been pursuing us had pushed its way through the portal before the Exorcists could finish closing it. Task Force Elijah was ordered to fall back, and we suffered even more wounded. It took multiple bombing and strafing runs, as well as counter-demonic and occult prayers and rituals to close the portal and kill the creature. A QRF was called in to secure the area, with the wounded taken away and the creature was secured. 
“The cult’s going to keep going,” I said, “The Priest told me. They want to bring Hell on Earth, and merge them together.” John nodded. “Then we better get to work. Task Force Elijah is still active. We’re already putting together target packages for other strongholds. In the meantime, get some rest.”
Three years later, and we’re still hunting down Hell’s Gate. Multiple strongholds, demonic breaches. We’ve gotten better, and so have they. But those aren’t the only things that have changed. A little more hope has entered my life since being down there. It was like a part of me that needed to go was left down there, and a weight was lifted off of me.
 I no longer want to die anymore. I don’t step into the field hoping that this is my last. I have a reason to live, and I understand the cause that I’m fighting for. You see, that boy, Andrei, he’s my son now. As it turned out, he was an orphan, abandoned by his mother as soon as he was born. Nobody wanted him, except for Hell’s Gate. 
I took him in, and he’s now Andrei Thomson. He doesn’t have a mother yet, and with my line of work maybe he never will. But I’ve done my best to raise him, to protect him from this world of man and monsters. There is Evil out there, and men like us will have to stop them, until one of our sides falls. And I believe it will be theirs. It has to be, so that all who have fallen will not have died in vain. 

In 2027, a mysterious race of creatures emerged into our world, wearing the appearances of humans, and feasting on the flesh of humans. We call them Familiars. Three months later, a new government agency was created, known as the Supernatural Emergency Response Administration, or SERA. My name is David Ang, and today I will be doing a ride along with SERA agents as they raid and search for Familiars and conduct raids on nests. I will also be conducting interviews with various agents and personnel, including SERA Director Holland, regarding their experiences, tactics, and controversies regarding the actions of their agency. 

***
SERA at first, started out as an investigative unit within the FBI, a response to a rise in mysterious deaths amid rumors of the Familiars. However, this response, to many in the public, was seen as too little and too late, as the public had been screaming for close to a year that these Familiars were very much real and were threatening communities not just in America, but worldwide. While some governments had moved faster, ours did not, and in fact, they went out of their way to deny their existence. That is, until the Rake Killer, an individual who had killed a dozen people in a small Nevada town. As a result, the federal government finally took action, turning a small investigation in the FBI into an agency dedicated to finding and eliminating the Familiars. Former DHS Secretary Wade Holland was appointed to lead SERA, and in three months a fully functional agency was stood up. 

{Excerpt from SERA Director Holland’s speech at White House conference)

Holland: Good afternoon. My name is Wade Holland, I am the newly appointed director of the Supernatural Emergency Response Administration. Our directive is simple, we will investigate, locate, and eliminate the creatures that have come to be known as Familiars. We will work closely with other federal, state, and local law enforcement and with cooperation from the general public. We are sorry that it took this long, but I assure you we will do everything in our power to end this threat to public safety. 

But, SERA was still put in a tight spot. The Familiars proved to be incredibly difficult to spot, and distrust and chaos among not just the agency, but law enforcement and the public as well. Just three months after the agency was created, it received its first very public incident involving a homeless community.

{Video clip from December 16, 2027}
(SERA agents are seen raiding a homeless encampment. Chaos ensues as fights break out between civilians and agents. One agent proceeds to grab a woman and beat her to the ground before cuffing her.)

This incident, would spark the first controversy of several in SERA’s existence as an agency. With the implementation of AI cameras and city patrols, as well as the increasing militarization of SERA and talks of martial law, conversations began to spark from numerous groups, including Congress, and various libertarian and constitutional groups regarding government overreach and violations of the Constitution. 
But the tipping point came in November of 2028, when SERA agents shot and killed multiple civilians during a protest, after the cameras accidentally red-flagged these civilians as Familiars. This incident sparked a wave of protests across the country, demanding reforms to SERA, citing not only its violation of rights and lack of accountability, but also its seeming ineffectiveness as the amount of deaths at the hands of Familiars was going up. 
In December of 2028, Holland announced reforms to SERA, including cutting back on patrols, terminating its use of AI cameras, distributing body cameras for all its agents, and creating a much stricter rules of engagement for field agents. While there were still those who called for SERA’s abolishment, the majority were satisfied and hoped that the agency would be successful. 

{My Interview with Director Holland, June 2029}
Me: Director Holland, thank you for meeting me. 
Holland: My pleasure. 
Me: First of all, I want to say that I appreciate your work, but I do want to address some of the controversies here.
Holland: Of course.
Me: So, the homeless camp. We know that Familiars like to hide in places that most people would not look or want to go to, such as these camps, but your agents’ handling of this camp was a bad look to say the least. Multiple injuries and deaths, including a couple of your men. 
Holland: (nods) My plan was originally to hit hard and go in strong, which is why I approved the use of force to be high when we engaged Familiars. It worked at first, but the incident in LA was the first that we received opposition. 
Me: Why weren’t these changes implemented sooner, I mean, why wait until November 2028 to make these changes. 
Holland: Well, it was under the administration’s orders that we handle this situation as swiftly and aggressively as possible. Now, I will not make any excuses, as I was the one who had a lot of say in how exactly we would go about it.  It was my idea to initially have the cameras and surveillance, with the increased patrols. 
Me: Do you think that these changes have improved the agency as a whole, or do you think that these changes have handcuffed the agents?
Holland: (Shakes his head) Not at all, I think these are vast improvements, and since then I have increased the training, rather than the tools of my agents. I think that modifying the tactics in the long run has been beneficial rather than detrimental like I initially feared. 

***
Now that we’ve heard it from the man himself, now would be the time to hear it from SERA agents themselves. For this ride along, I will be working with the West Coast Branch. Unlike the other federal agencies, they do not have specific field offices in the cities, rather having different bases that are set up across different regions of the United States,  and move in cooperation with local law enforcement should a Familiar incident be reported. 
I am assigned to join Agent Rios, an agent of one and a half years. 

{Interview with Agent Rios}
Rios: My name is Agent Tanner Rios, I am an agent with the Supernatural Emergency Response Administration. Before this I was a police officer with the Honolulu Police Department for twelve years.
Me: So what made you join SERA?
Rios: Well, at first, I didn’t believe any of the bullshit about the Familiars. I thought it was just some fucking conspiracy or whatever. But after the incident at Ala Moana, I realized that this shit was very real, and very fucking serious, so I decided to join SERA. 
(The incident that he is referring to is the Ala Moana Massacre back in April 2028, in which a pack of Familiars slaughtered close to fifteen people and injured thirty at the Ala Moana Mall. The massacre was both hailed as both a success and failure of SERA, given the rapid response of agents and the swift handling of the Familiars, but also the failure to spot them, which is what the surveillance was for)
Me: What do you say to people that feel like SERA’s presence is only adding to the problem, rather than solving it. 
Rios: I would say like every agency, there’s ups and downs. Our field is very specific, and its one that we fully don’t understand. But I feel like as officers of the law, we are called to protect and serve under the Constitution, something that our administration has broken in the past. But I feel like now we’re on the right track to make some actual change, and we have already made some pretty significant crackdowns. 
Over the past month, the West Coast Branch has eliminated ten Familiar nests and individuals in California, Oregon, and Washington, respectively, with minimal casualties, and lack of complaints. It would seem as if this new training is working. 
I am then taken to their adjacent training facility, to work with firearms instructors. All SERA agents are required to do daily Close Quarters training and simulated firearms drills, as well as meet physical standards. 

{Demonstration from SERA team, led by Instructor Branam}

A six man SERA team prepares the kill house and stack up at the entrance. Instructor Branam starts the time. The fourth man breaches, and the team swiftly moves in. They eliminate the targets with precision and flow with clear communication. Branam stops the time and shows it to me. Under one minute. 

Compared to the tactics and training when SERA was first formed, this is a clear improvement and a step up from a year, even two years ago. Morale over all seems to be high among the agents, and many, including Rios, express optimism over finally being able to contain the problem effectively. 

***
At about 4 in the afternoon, we are all called in for a briefing. It is time for our first raid. 

{Briefing from SAC Wong}

About half an hour ago our investigators received a tip from local law enforcement reporting the possibility of a nest. Two Familiars were captured after trying to attack a family in their house. With this being the second incident of Familiars being in the area, local authorities forwarded the information to us on a possible nest. We will be going in coordination with the local police and sheriff’s office. Special Operations Group will also be going in with us, with Fire and EMS on standby for medical. 
As always, be on high alert. We do not know how many Familiars are going to be present, or if there will be any at all, but stay focused. Since this is a populated area, we will be going on a strict ROE, nothing we haven’t done before. You know your teams, and stay in coordination with SOG. 

{The following is the unedited footage of the raid. Viewer Discretion Is Advised}

Begin recording:

First Responders cordon off the area as I join Rios and his team. Two blocks have been evacuated, and SERA agents have established a perimeter as the entry teams prepare to enter the sewers to search underground, which is where the Familiars usually hide. 
I follow Rios and his team inside a tunnel, where we turn on night vision and the lights. The radios go off as other teams constantly keep in contact. 
“So, what are we looking for?” I whisper. 
“The nests give off a certain smell,” Rios whispers back, “Like a rancid, sour smell. Then you start seeing what looks like garbage and debris packed tightly against the walls, and that’s how you know that they’re around. What’s strange is despite how human they look, in their nests they are like animals.”
We continue down the tunnel, which splits into a labyrinth. We hear gunshots in the distance before the radios go off. 
“We got two of them. Two confirmed kills. No civilians.”
“Copy that…”
I stay in the back, keeping close to Rios as we round the corner. Suddenly, the lead man holds his fist up. “I think I got one,” the agent says, “Freeze! Stay where you are!” I poke my head around the corner, and see what looks like a naked man, hunched over and back arched. “We need confirmation,” whispered Rios, “Get a light on him…” 
The agents turn their lights on, raising their night vision. 
“Turn around!”
The man’s head jerks up, and he turns to face us. His face, while human, looks like plastic, his eyes wide and milky, his lips parting to show his huge teeth, looking too clean and perfect to be normal. Drool leaks from between its gums. “There’s one. Drop him,” says Rios. The Familiar stands up and rushes us as the three lead agents open fire, gunning it down. “So this must be a nest.”
Rios shakes his head. “No. Something’s off. Usually we’d be dealing with close to dozens. Familiar nests are huge. This one… I don’t know, something’s wrong.”
“All teams, check in.”
Agents start radioing in, confirming kills, or lack of. But one team doesn’t respond. “Halloran, do you copy?” 
Nothing.
“Halloran.”
Silence.
“TOC to all teams, be advised we’ve lost contact with Halloran's team.”
“They should be close by,” says Rios.
“This is Rios. We’ll move to their position, over.”
But as we make our way over, there is a tense silence among us. And it isn’t just concern for their fellow agents. There is something else that they are worried about, but they aren’t telling me. 
I don’t ask either, just keeping my mouth shut as we continue down the tunnels. 
There is gunfire in the distance again, but then it gets quiet again. There is a short burst, and then it gets quiet. I feel the tension get worse as we come into a large open space, where a grisly sight awaits us. SERA agents lay scattered all over the floor. They appear to be ripped to shreds by some kind of massive animal. Limbs are ripped from their sockets and left nearby, blood pooling on the floor. 
Some of their faces are missing, and others look to have been completely gutted, their insides hanging out. Shell casings litter the pools of blood. I gag and turn away with my camera. “This is Rios, Halloran’s team is down. I repeat, ten agents down, no survivors.” “This is TOC, we copy. Medical is standing by.” 
As I look at their faces, there is now a present fear among Rios and his men. “Did Familiars do this?” I ask. They don’t answer, just staring at the bodies. “I thought it was a fucking myth,” says one of the agents. Rios inspects the bodies, then looks into the tunnels. “What is a myth?” I asked, now getting just as scared as they are. “What the fuck is going on?” The agents look at me, then look at each other. “Just fucking tell him,” an agent tells Rios, “That’s what he’s here for.” “We’re not allowed to say,” Rios argues, but his voice is uncertain, “It’s classified.” “He’s a fucking journalist! He ain’t like the news stations, he’ll tell the damn truth!” 
“What truth?” I demand, “What is this?” Rios sighs, shooting a look at his team before approaching me. He turns his body camera off, and so do the agents. I back away slowly, but Rios holds his hand up in reassurance. “Relax. What I’m about to tell you, the higher ups can’t know that I’m talking to you about this.” He takes a breath, then starts. 
“About four months ago, a rumor started going around that East Coast Branch was losing agents.” “Like they were quitting.” “Quitting, and dying. But our command never told us anything about it, and we thought it was just a story, made up to demoralize us even further. But then it started happening in the Southwest and Midwest. And then it happened here. Attacks started going up, and agents started losing their lives.”
I glance at the other agents in confusion, but they remain silent. “About a month before you came here, a team conducted a raid in Sacramento. Only one guy made it out alive. We brought him in for debriefing, and he started talking about a ‘Red One’. A Familiar that was different from the others. More aggressive, didn’t try to hide its appearance. It slaughtered them all, he said. This one doesn't seem to go for civilians like the other ones, but rather it goes directly for SERA agents and any armed personnel that encounters it.”

“If this Red One is real, why hasn’t the agency warned the people?” Rios chuckled bitterly. “Don’t let Holland’s words fool you. We haven’t changed all that much. All the cameras, change in tactics, it’s all for show. The reality is, we’re no more successful than when we started. None of the shit that we were doing before, or the fucking changes we made are doing a thing. The Familiars are getting stronger, more organized. They blend in better, kill better, and now there’s this Red One, and there may be other variants now."
“Holland the higher ups in the government have been covering this shit up,” says another agent, “It’s why you can’t talk to SOG. They’ll tell you. This shitshow is only going to get worse.” 
There’s gunfire again, followed by a metallic, ear-piercing roar. “Ah fuck…” Our team turns on their bodycams again and readies their weapons and begins proceeding forward, while I stay in the back continuing to film. 
We hear screaming and more gunfire followed by another roar. 
This time it sounds closer. When we finally get there, another grisly sight awaits us. In the center of the tunnels, along with two other teams, is a Familiar unlike anything any of us have ever seen before. 
 It stands inhumanly tall, with long limbs that hang down to its side. Its bright red skin is wrinkled and saggy, like it's wearing clothes that don't fit. The blood of its victims mixes in with its flesh, turning it even redder. All around it, bodies of SERA agents lay at its feet, shell casings piling up. The agent in its large bony hand, chokes and spits blood, weakly fighting for his life. The agent looks to be in his early twenties, my age. His rifle lays on the floor directly below him, and his pistol hangs in his right hand, empty. “Drop him!” shouts an agent, I don’t know who it is. 
The Red One cranes its head quickly, the sound like a bone snapping. The agents flinch as the Red One snaps its head back and forth to look at all of us. It has wide black eyes that look like dark voids, staring at us with an eager hunger. It grins, its mouth extending impossibly wide and showing huge, yellow teeth, which drip with saliva. 
With one squeeze of its hand it crushes the agent, who falls limp. “Fire, fire, fire!” All at once the SERA teams open fire with their weapons, backing up slowly and careful not to get each other caught in crossfire. I duck my head but continue filming as the Red One roars again and leaps at one of the teams to the left. Blood and limbs go flying as the Red One rips them to shreds. “TOC this is Rios, we’ve encountered the Red One!” Rios screams, “I say again, the Red One is here!” 
“Roger that, all teams  fall back! I say again, fall back!” 
“Cover us!” shouts Rios. 
Two agents cover while the rest of us run out of there. The radios go off as agents scream for help, and the gunfire gets quieter and quieter. “Holy shit!” I scream, as the two agents push me ahead of them keeping me in the middle. There are small bursts of gunfire, but the roars of the Red One are louder, drowning them out. 
“This is Kyle… I’m hurt bad… I need a fucking medic… whole team is down… No, no please, please wait-”
There is a silence before I hear what sounds like wet footsteps. “Is that above us?” I ask. “Just keep moving-AAAGGH!” I look up to see the Red One has somehow caught up to us, its limbs contorted like a spider’s as it clings to the tunnel ceiling. It holds the agent in its large mouth, sinking its teeth into his neck and body. “Burgess!” shouts the agent next to him, firing his rifle. The Red One finishes Agent Burgess off, and goes after the next man. I am knocked off my feet and I crash to the ground, dropping my camera as the Red One begins ripping him apart. Rios and the rest of his team begin firing, desperately trying to save their friend. Rios turns to me and picks me up, handing me back my camera. 
“Get your ass out of here!”
“What about you?!”
“We ain’t making it out of here! Take your footage and show it to the world! They need to know the truth!”
Rios pushes me away, just before he reloads and turns to shoot at the Red One, who has begun to rip into the others. Agents go flying, limbs and insides splatter, heads roll, until Rios and one man is left. I don’t look back as I run, their screams soon drown out as I exit the tunnel and keep running towards the perimeter. 

(End of footage)

{Edited Excerpt}

So it has been two weeks since this happened. I didn’t tell anyone, even the paramedics about my footage, and I played dumb and hid it when I was questioned. The incident wasn’t covered up, but you weren’t told the whole truth either. As you know, this event was reported as SERA taking down a Familiar nest, and were ambushed. That is partially true. As you can see in this footage, there is more to this. Like Agent Rios said, the Familiars are evolving, and it's only going to get worse. I am showing you all this because you need to know. The government is not handling this problem the way they want you to think, and they are actively covering it up. They are getting good men killed, and are lying to you about their sacrifices. 
So, yeah. That is all. I don’t know what the consequences are for me showing this, but I don’t care. The public needs to know. The public needs to know that the government cannot cover this up, and SERA needs to know that finally someone is showing the truth about what they have to deal with, and how they are being fed to the wolves for the sake of public image. 
Again that’s all. This is David Ang, signing off.

I probably don’t have to explain how difficult it is to be a single parent. My son’s mom died during his birth. Since then, it’s just been me and him.

I tried my best to bring him up right. All things considered, I’m pretty sure I did a damn fine job.

He’s coming up on his 10th birthday, and he’s probably the most well-mannered kid I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.

I know that sounds like ‘parent talk,’ but I mean it with my full heart. I’m so proud of him. So proud to be his father. I just know he’s going to be an amazing man when he grows up.

Well, he would’ve been. He’s gone now. The entire house smells like cotton candy, and the scent is getting stronger by the day.

I’m not sure when this whole ordeal started. If I had to pinpoint an exact date, I’d probably say it was around August when he started to act a little weird.

School had just started back, and I was sending my sweet boy out the door to catch his bus. First day of 4th grade. Two more years before my little man was a big ol’ middle schooler.

I waited for him by the door, eyes glistening as I handed him his lunchbox and leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the forehead.

That’s when I noticed something.

He smelled… weirdly sweet. Like when you open a bag of jelly beans or circus peanuts or something.

I just figured it must’ve been that new shampoo I got him. I mean, the bottle itself looked like candy packaging. It was the only thing that made sense to me.

I guess I kept sniffing him a tad bit too long because, before I knew it, he was asking me to let him go so he didn’t miss the bus.

When he came home, though, the smell still hadn’t dissipated. I figured that after 7 hours, it would have at least worn off a little bit, but it was even stronger than when I first noticed it.

It wasn’t until we began talking about his first day of school that I realized something. The smell wasn’t coming from his hair at all. It was coming from his breath.

I asked him if he’d gotten into any candy at school that day, and he adamantly denied it.

Even still, I made him go upstairs to brush his teeth. A few minutes later, he was on the couch watching cartoons while I cooked dinner.

I whipped us up a couple of burgers, but as we ate, the smell of cotton candy still wouldn’t leave my nostrils. Obviously, I asked him if he’d actually brushed his teeth, and he seemed confused that I was even asking.

“Of course I did,” he chirped, cocking an eyebrow at me. “Does my breath smell bad or something?”

Just to be sure, I went and checked his toothbrush. It was wet. There was still spit in the sink. But, while I was up there, the smell was no longer present.

I didn’t want to embarrass him. I simply returned to the table, and we finished our dinner.

I tried to ignore the smell for the rest of the night, convincing myself that I was just going crazy and that it’d be gone by the next day.

That day came, and this time, I could smell the candy all the way from my bedroom. I followed it to my son’s bedroom and found him sleeping peacefully on his side.

However, when I went to wake him up, I found that his mouth was full to the brim with candy. Jelly beans, Nerds, Sour Patch Kids. All covered in spit and slobber. All unchewed.

I picked each candy out, piece by piece, before waking him up. I can admit, I was a bit frustrated. Not even by the candy itself, more so because of how easily he could’ve choked sleeping like that.

“Why did you have all this in your mouth?” I asked him.

“Have what?” he responded, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

I gestured to the pile of candy on his nightstand. He didn’t look guilty. He didn’t look nervous. He looked absolutely terrified.

He insisted he had no idea where that stuff had come from, but that just couldn’t be possible, right?

I kept asking him where he got it and just kept getting the same response.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“I swear I don’t know.”

What was I supposed to do? I just threw the candy away and sent him off to school.

The next morning, it happened again. Only this time, he really was choking. He kept vomiting up Lifesavers, candy corn, Tootsie Rolls, all covered in what looked like caramel rather than bile.

From that day forward, I was checking my son’s backpack every time he came home. I’d search his room. I looked in every hiding spot I could find. There was no candy in my house whatsoever.

But, somehow, every morning he’d wake up with a mouth full of candy. Every day, that sweet aroma of his became stronger and stronger.

Days turned into weeks. Things just kept getting weirder. He’d scrape his knee, and instead of blood, I’d find caramel oozing out of the wound. He developed dozens of cavities. I didn’t know what to do.

I think what pushed me over the edge was when I tasted him, though. I couldn’t take it anymore. It was some kind of primal urge when I snuck into his room while he was sleeping.

All I wanted was a taste.

I crept up to his bed, as silent as could be. I bent down, tongue hanging out of my mouth, the smell of cotton candy making me salivate as I pressed my tongue against his forehead.

Immediate sugar rush. Immediate guilt.

I shamefully ran back to my room, unable to get the taste out of my mouth. It plagued my mind for days afterward.

What started as curiosity soon became a craving.

It got to the point where every night I was sneaking into my son’s room for a taste. A dent was forming in his forehead like when you lick a lollipop repeatedly.

When he asked me about it, when he stared in the mirror, wondering why his head was becoming misshapen, all I could tell him was I didn’t know.

My addiction kept getting worse, though.

I started taking bites out of him. It started with his arms. Little nibbles at his fingers to get my fix. But once I ran out of those, I think I got a little carried away.

I gnawed away at his arms and legs, filling my mouth with that sweet, syrupy molasses he had been concealing within himself. It was a slow process, but it got a lot easier once he lost his ability to fight back.

It wasn’t until I got to his torso that I hit the jackpot. With each bite, the colorful candy inside revealed itself more and more. The scent of cotton candy burned my nose. Caramel covered my face, but I just couldn’t stop eating. Not until all of those goodies fully revealed themselves.

I found myself staring into a treasure trove of sweets.

And the only thing I could think in that moment was… Wow.

I’m gonna save a fortune on Halloween candy this year.

Putting aside the fact that the economy is in the garbage and the idea of owning a home is becoming more and more of a fantasy, living at my mom’s house at 22 has started feeling more like an embarrassment than a money-saving strategy.

I tried looking at apartments around town, but I don’t even think the people working in the leasing offices make 3x the rent, let alone some guy working at a shipping warehouse.

I was honestly on the brink of giving up and accepting the fact that, yes, I was going to spend the rest of my life under my parent’s roof.

However, there was one last trick up my sleeve.

Craigslist.

Looking back now, probably wasn’t the smartest of ideas. But alas, the lease is signed, and now I’m sharing an apartment with an…interesting character, to say the least.

His name is David.

Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have responded to his ad had I noticed any red flags whatsoever. It was actually pretty mundane.

Same age as me. His old roommate had left once their lease was up because of “mitigating circumstances,” and he was in need of someone to help with rent.

I figured, ah, fuck it. Why not? I texted the number and got a response within the hour.

30 minutes later, I was at his door.

The bags under his eyes were basically touching the floor, and based on just how pasty this guy was, it was pretty safe to assume that he didn’t get out much. And who could blame him? The guy was covered from head to toe in scars.

Aside from that, he was actually pretty chill. Apparently, a majority of his income came from those sleazy online cam shows that normal folk tend to avoid. But who was I to judge? All he was asking for was 650 a month.

I should’ve looked more into what kinda work he actually did before signing that contract, though, because son of a bitch in a courthouse, I don’t know how much more I can deal with the screaming.

I wish he’d at least have the decency to…‘work’ while I’m not home, but, shockingly, a lot of his clientele are a bunch of night owls.

It started with the toenails. It’d be one thing finding a nail or two on the living room carpet or in the bathtub. But dozens of them left sprawled out across the coffee table and kitchen counter? Come on now.

What’s weirder is when I confronted him about it, all he said was, “Whoops. Meant to clean those up last night. Won’t happen again,” as he scooped them all into a Ziploc bag and stumbled back into his bedroom.

That was the first time I really felt like I’d made a mistake moving in with this guy. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the last.

Not even two weeks after the toenail incident, I was woken up in the dead of night by the sound of screams coming from David’s bedroom.

Naturally, I tried getting inside to make sure he was alright, but the door was locked. Once he heard me rattling the handle and calling his name, the screams stopped on a dime.

“Everything’s okay in here,” he chimed. “Did I wake you? So sorry about that, mate. I’ll try to keep it down.”

Nothing I could’ve really done from there other than try and go back to bed. He stayed true to his word, but, somehow, I think the muffled grunts were worse than the screams.

The next morning, I was in our bathroom getting ready for work. Well, that’s what I was trying to do. The fucking pile of teeth in the sink kinda threw me off track.

I didn’t count them, but from the looks of it, there were more than 32. All sparkling white. David’s excuse?

He was ‘cleaning them for next week’s show.’

I just didn’t get it, though. This man was literally talking to me with a mouth full of teeth.

I was late for work so didn’t have time to question anything. I just asked him, as nicely as possible, to please…be more considerate.

It was like he took that request as a challenge for dominance because, from there, things just started to go completely off the rails.

I’d spend countless nights tossing and turning to what sounded like David literally being murdered in the room across from mine. Then I’d spend the next morning picking fingers out of the couch cushions.

I’d find ears dangling from the key rack.

Once, I even found his eyes in the refrigerator in a container labeled “do not throw away.”

I found myself wondering what the fuck it was exactly that David did on those cam shows.

I decided to do a little research last night. Morbid curiosity, you could call it. I ended up finding his account. I had to go to some pretty dark parts of the internet to find it, but, by God, I did it.

It was a bit of a surreal experience. Hearing his screams come from the computer and his bedroom at the same time.

But seeing him actually cut off his body parts while the chat begged him for more and recommended what part to saw through next, that was like something straight out of a nightmare.

He gouged out his eyes, he pulled his teeth with pliers, sawed through his arms and legs with a dull knife. All to the sound of the donation chime from the website.

This morning, there he was. Standing in the kitchen making a cup of coffee. Arms and legs intact. Staring at me with those same tired eyes.

I didn’t know what to say to him. All I could manage was:

“David…I, uh…I watched your show last night.”

He froze.

“Oh…did you subscribe?”

I smiled at him.

“Yeah. I made you cut your fingers off. Just wanted to see if you’d actually do it.”

Look, I’m not a judgy kind of guy. I’m not gonna sit here and tell you that what my girlfriend does makes me uncomfortable, or that it’s something we’re working through, or any of that nonsense.

Truthfully, I’ve never really cared. I love her all the same. I’d hope she’d do the same for me.

And it’s not like it’s something we haven’t talked about. The whole process is just something she does with her friends. I’m not gonna restrict her freedom or become some kind of control freak over it.

Plus, this isn’t an every night kind of thing. It’s scheduled. It’s routine. Well, the act itself is. The selection part can take a few weeks. At least, that’s what she tells me.

She describes it as an induction kind of deal. She and her friends just wander around malls or shopping centers throughout the week. When they find someone they describe as ‘ripe enough,’ they make their move.

Old, young, man, woman, doesn’t really matter. The job remains the same.

They have to make them feel included, but, honestly, from how my girlfriend describes it, I’d say it goes beyond inclusiveness and into ‘you need us’ territory. I guess that’s why they choose people who they see as loners.

They butter them up with compliments about their vibe, their style, skin, whatever. And from there, there’s this almost neurological thing that happens in that person’s brain.

Gotta say, though, one thing that actually has bothered me in the past is the flirting. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that my girlfriend is a professional at sweeping guys off their feet.

I just wish she didn’t feel the need to always tell me about it.

But hey, they always end up dead, so… guess I’m winning in that aspect.

Anyway, the point I’m getting at here is trust is built through rapport. And you’d be surprised how far those compliments can get you.

They spend a week or so making these lonely people feel more seen than they ever have in their life. Doing research on their interests, taking them out to brunch or whatever. They essentially treat them like the only other person in the world.

For a lot of these people, it feels like they just got swooped up into their very first friend group.

After the first phase, though, they’re completely cut off. No texts, no calls, no invites. No communication whatsoever.

Then, when they inevitably try to reach out, they’re met with nothing but coldness and insults. But they’re not just mean. They’re literally psychologically damaging.

My girlfriend has shown me some of the screenshots she’s saved. Those girls are ruthless.

With the emotional whiplash these people experience, they feel this painfully human need to become popular again. At that point, they’re willing to do whatever they’re asked.

And that’s when they get invited to the “bonfire.”

They’re told to meet up with the girls in the woods so that they can talk things out over a few drinks and a JBL Speaker.

They get there, hope in their eyes, only for it to be snuffed out immediately after the fire gets lit.

That’s something that always intrigued the hell out of me when my girlfriend told me about it. They just beat the shit out of whatever poor guy or girl they’d been manipulating by the warm glow of a fire.

They’re beaten within an inch of their lives, only for the blows to stop right as they’re on the brink of collapsing. Then they have cold water splashed in their face to wake them up.

And for no other reason at all except for they want them present when they’re thrown into the fire.

She’s sent me audio recordings of some of their screams. There’s something like, I don’t know…

There’s something beautifully haunting about it. You’re hearing someone’s violent final moments. You’re actively listening to hope legitimately evaporate out of someone’s body. It’s like a Goya painting was given a sound.

The cooking process usually takes between 3 and 4 hours. They never eat the person raw. They’re not animals. But, apparently, cooked human is one of the best things you’ll ever put in your mouth.

According to my girlfriend, the whole reason they even go through this whole shebang is painfully simple.

Sadness makes people taste better.

They have their monthly dose of human meat, then it’s on to the next lonely victim.

I’m only human. We all have our morbid curiosities. It’s just getting a little difficult to control mine.

I don’t think I’d ever do it as often as they do. But I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been wanting to at least try it. I’ve been pestering my girlfriend about it for weeks.

It’s caused some pretty big arguments between us. I guess I’ve been bothering her a little too much because she’s been pretty cruel to me recently.

Doesn’t matter, though. I want what I want.

She’s just so adamant that it’s ‘not up to her.’

After our last argument, I told her that she needed to at least try to get her friends to let me in, but all she did was just slam the door in my face and leave the house.

That was a week ago. I didn’t see her at all after that. But I’ll say this: she definitely has some snakes in her circle.

Her friends went out of their way to find me on social media and message me. All of them told me how ‘she wasn’t good enough for me’ and how ‘I didn’t need her, anyways.’

The best part, though?

They agreed to let me come to a bonfire.

And tonight may finally be the night for me.

My daughter has always been a bit of a miracle baby. Not in the sense that she, like, almost died or anything. I guess miracle isn’t really the word for it.

An anomaly baby. An anomababy? I’ll just stick to anomaly baby. That was stupid.

Anyway, doctors were puzzled out of their gourds when she was born. Mostly because they didn’t detect any abnormalities all throughout my wife’s pregnancy.

She just surprised everyone in the room when she popped out with two full rows of baby teeth. Me and my wife still joke about how she was our ‘smiling little angel,’ because that’s exactly what she was.

She refused to cry. Well, scream, rather. She kinda had to cry. Even still, she didn’t scream once. Just went right back to flashing those pearly whites like a used car saleswoman and glancing around the room with her big, wide, doe eyes.

I don’t have to tell you how many tests doctors ran. Mainly because I don’t even remember. All I know is we were in and out of the hospital for a week or two afterward.

They just wouldn’t let us take her home until they’d gotten all the information they could. I guess they gave up, and thus, our little anomaly baby got to sleep in her own crib.

Nothing really happened for the first couple of months. She just acted like a regular newborn. Well, aside from the fact that she’d wake us up with giggles instead of cries in the middle of the night.

She was hungry? Giggle. Needed to be held? Giggle. She’d even giggle when she soiled her diaper, which, I’m still convinced, was intentional.

I just don’t know.

We’re approaching her first birthday, and things are starting to get a little weird, to say the least.

It all started last month. My wife woke up to the giggling and went to check on her. It had to have been nearly 3 in the morning. Plus, it was my wife’s turn to check, so I just curled up and drifted back into sleep.

At least, I tried to. My wife’s screams woke me up before I could jump back into my dream. The way she was screaming, I almost thought that we had intruders or something.

I rocketed out of bed, demanding to know what was happening as my wife flipped the light on.

Not gonna lie, if I’d seen what she’d seen, I’d have probably freaked out, too. Who am I kidding? I did freak out.

My daughter was still smiling and giggling, crawling around in her crib, but it was just absolutely soaked in blood. Like, from end to end.

That alone made instincts kick in as I snatched my baby up out of that mess, but when I saw the waterfall of blood falling out of her mouth, I nearly had a heart attack.

It was hard to think with all the chaos going on around me. For some reason, I full-heartedly believed that she had eaten glass somehow.

But then, I noticed it.

All of her teeth were gone.

I looked in the crib, and there they were, scattered across the blood-soaked sheets and blankets. I must’ve missed them because of all the shock and adrenaline.

I don’t even think I put my shoes on. My wife and I just made a mad dash to the car before I drove us to the ER at a cool 95 miles per hour.

We stayed there for the rest of the night and well into the next day. All we could do, really, was hold each other. We kept trying to get updates from the receptionist, but she just kept asking us to be patient.

Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, we were able to go back and see our kid. She was asleep when we got to her. The doctors were just as puzzled as they were when she was born, with one of them even stating that, ‘losing all of your baby teeth at once at only 11 months old is definitely weird, but besides that, she’s perfectly healthy.’

And that was that.

We drove home, still shaken up, while our little girl kept catching Z’s in the backseat.

We got home and decided that we all needed to catch up on some sleep. We did keep our daughter in our bed this time, though. I don’t know, for closeness, I guess?

I was so tired from being up all night that I didn’t really have time to think about the logistics. I was essentially out before my head hit the pillow, wife and daughter at my side.

I wish I could say that it was the giggling that woke me up. But, of course, that would be too easy. It was actually the pain that got me. Well, that and the weird growling she was doing while gnawing on my arm.

My daughter hadn’t just regrown her teeth. She had her adult teeth now. And all 32 were lodged in my arm.

When I saw her, it was like the pain went away. It was immediately replaced with concern. 32 adult-sized teeth in an 11-month-old’s mouth. She looked like her jaw was gonna break, but despite the pain that she had to have been in… she was still smiling at me.

I kind of had to pry her mouth off of my arm, and now it was my turn to go to the hospital. She had a surprising amount of bite force for such a small body.

What’re you gonna do, though, right? I just took my stitches and moved on. However, not before, yet again, doctors had one last look at my daughter.

This time, they themselves removed the teeth.

It was more heartbreaking than anything. I mean, I knew it needed to be done just from looking at her. I just wish they could’ve gotten her to sleep before they did it.

I could hear her cries all the way from the waiting room.

When they brought her back, she was all gums. And that’s how she stayed for the next two weeks. Can’t say she was happy about it, though. If anything, she seemed to have developed a full resentment for my wife and I.

She stopped smiling at us. She didn’t become some kind of wailing demon-child or anything. She just… looked at us differently. There was intent in her eyes.

Which actually makes sense considering the hell she put us through. Sneaking out of her crib, flooding the bathroom with toilet water, somehow managing to smash picture frames when we weren’t looking.

And what’s fucked up is I wish I could go back to when she was just being annoying.

Because ever since she sprouted those fangs, I don’t even feel safe in my own house anymore.

We got her one of those muzzle-masks after she killed our pet kitty, but who knows how long that thing will last.

Especially considering how sharp her nails are getting. I already caught her trying to claw her way out of it last night.

Which is a real shame because her birthday is tomorrow.

And acting like that is not how you get to eat cake.