by A. K. Koonce
This definitely isn’t the pretentious, sleek office Krist would prefer.
I look up, my neck craning as I notice the bell hanging from the high ceiling. It’s a dull, coppery color with veins of black running through it, dulling its shine. The walls are a crumbling structure that leave piles of debris in corners and shroud the room in dust.
All in all, the room looks like a demon’s honeymoon suite.
“The headmistress will be with you in a moment.” Marcen’s voice grates annoyingly down my nerves, and when I turn, he’s already closing the door. A resounding click follows and the sound strums through my chest.
He locked me inside.
Fucking dipshit warlock.
He can’t imagine the power he’s given me by leaving me here by myself.
I dart over to the desk, rummaging through everything on the top, careful not to touch or open any vials. Been there, done that in my life. Last time I rummaged through someone’s belongings, I accidentally broke a vial with dark liquid. I almost grew tentacles for fingers.
It was inconvenient, to say the least.
The papers on the desk seem to be sorted by language, many of which I don’t recognize. Must be some demonic languages, I think, because there are garbled symbols in thick, bleeding ink. I rummage some more, counting off the languages. Latin, Greek, Hebrew— I stop, my fingers fumbling as I pick up the pages with runes scattered across it in a language I recognize like the very runes on my blade. The language is printed boldly with a steady hand with the same symbols that live plastered to my own body.
The language of my Holy Lady of Death.
It’s an ancient script, some of the runes older than time itself, older even than the God humans worship nowadays. I can’t read all of the runes; I never had a coven crone to teach me. I know our language is a dead one now, but I also know enough to recognize some of the words there.
Magic.
Lucero.
Sialen.
Death.
The words send a chill down my spine. Why are my and Sialen’s names pressed together? Why does it say “death”? I understand death more than most, but this gives me an eerie feeling. Like this academy and everyone in it is plotting something, and Sialen and I are at the center of it somehow.
I take the papers and tuck them in the waistband of my skirt, hiding them with my ugly Academy sweater before I continue snooping. There’s nothing else that catches my attention, so I decide to look inside the drawers.
Just as I’m in the process of opening the first one, the door to the office rattles and slams against the wall.
I jump back, attention snapping up at Headmistress Krist’s slender frame in the entryway.
I don’t want to stare too long at the strange hybrid monster woman, but I can’t help it. The last time I’d seen her, she tricked me into basically signing away my soul. I remember every little aspect of her strange anatomical makeup, and yet, I take her in all over again as if it's the first time.
Her strange mechanical tail whizzes and whirs like some sort of robot, making a series of clicks that echo through the tower. Her palm is outstretched, holding open the door. Long, black metal nails dig perfectly into the wood and make fresh dents against it. Her ring-clad fingers spread out and caress the wood like a lover. Creepy, creepy shit.
She moves slightly, and just over her shoulder, I see Sialen’s tall frame behind her.
My heart thumps against my chest like it does every time I see him. Blood calling to blood, children of death recognizing one another’s souls. That’s what it is, I tell myself. That’s all that it is.
“Miss Lucero,” she purrs as she glides into the room. “Snooping through my things?”
Her voice holds a tint of death with it, the edge of it final, demanding, frightening. I’ve never been frightened before, but like the stench of the room, something about her is off.
“Of course not,” I lie, glad my voice comes out steady.
She prowls into the room, and I watch every single move she makes warily, not even daring to take my gaze off her to look at Sialen, even when I can feel him as he comes inside the room, too. He’s like an electrifying force I’m all too aware of. I feel every move he makes, where he stands, where he stops, even while my eyes are on Krist.
Her mechanical parts slither like a giant metal snake against the carpet until she crosses around to the desk on the opposite side of me. I can’t take my eyes off her. I swear I don’t. I don’t even blink, and still I feel the pain.
It shoots into quick bursts inside of me, and my whole spine is alight with fire. I cry out and start to crumple, my knees giving out as I fall to the ground. But she’s there suddenly, catching me with her claws that feel like knives. They dig into my body like weapons dipped in fire. I can feel the sensation coursing inside me, killing me slowly. I feel it tainting my blood, the poison invading in ways it’s never invaded before.
Krist flings me onto her desk. Things scatter, vials break, but I can’t seem to bring myself to care about anything other than the pain. It’s blinding. My ears pop, and then warmth slides down my cheeks.
Nails rake against my scalp, and she rips my sweater as she pulls it from my skirt to reveal what I’m hiding.
“A thief, a murderer, and a liar?” I feel a tug as the papers are pulled from my skirt, and then her hands aren’t on me anymore. I can barely breathe my sigh of relief through the catastrophic pain that’s exploding inside me.
I push back against her and stumble to my feet, throwing my fists out blindly. I can’t feel her near me, can no longer hear the whir of her machines.
My fists connect to a solid body, and I hear a grunt as my vision suddenly focuses on Sialen in front of me. His expression is angry, dark brows furrowed so deeply together there’s nearly a fucking crater on his forehead.
I swing at him, and he dodges, reaching out to grab my wrists and pull me to him. I’m pressed all over his warm body, but all it does is send little shocks of pain through my already aching bones.
“Let go of me, you bastard!” I shove against him, but he shakes me, pulling me harder against him.
“Fucking stop it,” he growls darkly. “Do you want to fucking die?” The question is said on the softest and darkest of whispers. I swear I almost imagine it. Swear I can nearly hear it in my mind.
“Liars and thieves at this academy are punished.” There’s her voice again.
Krist.
Sialen flips me around so I’m staring at the headmistress from across the desk once more. She’s there at the entrance, her nails raking across the wood like she’s trying to intimidate me.
I refuse to be intimidated. She can do whatever she wants. She can poison me, hurt me, torture me, and I still won’t give in. I won’t become one of the spineless, brainless creatures here. I won’t become like her.
“She is too out of control.” Something shines in her eyes that’s alien. Malicious.
Cold fear slices down my body until I’m practically choking on it, but I force it away.
Behind me, Sialen stills. “She can still learn, headmistress—”
“Shut your filthy Sekar mouth. I did not ask what you thought.”
Sialen’s hands tighten along my arms. I can feel his rage rolling through him, because I feel it myself.
“We had such high hopes for you.” Krist flicks her fingers, her distracted gaze staring at me, but also somewhere very far away. “Your powers show promise, but you’re too uncontrollable, and a subject who is uncontrollable is dangerous.” Her wide mouth curls into a painted smile. “Dr. Hyde can fix that easily.”
Sialen pulls me closer. “Headmistress, I really don’t think—”
“Silence!”
Pain stabs through the both of us. Sialen grunts in my ear and wraps his arm around my stomach as if steeling himself against the onslaught of agony. He doubles over me, and I bend with him, feeling his chest press tightly against the metal on my spine.
It hurts. Everything hurts
to the point of it being blinding. I’m panting for breath, but no air fills my lungs. I grasp for Sialen, holding his wrist in my hand, and he reaches for me right back.
If we share anything outside of our Sekar lineage, it’s this. This pain, this belladonna coursing through our blood, this pain that feels like it’s cracking through our bones.
My vision blurs, and my hearing starts to fade. I can make out the distant sound of a maniac cackle and feel the rumbles of Sialen’s grunts against my cheek, and the agony is all I know before we are both falling to the ground and darkness claims us.
And for the first time, I pray to my Holy Lady of Death to keep my life.
Because this Academy will surely kill me.
Cold seeps through my body, an ache through my bones and muscles like I've never known before. My eyes open, and a blinding white light stabs through my skull.
Groaning, I twist slightly, but I already know that my body is tied down with restraints. I don’t even need to try and call to my magic, because I already know it won’t be there. I’m an empty well of a witch, and that frightens me more than being tied down does: being magicless, not feeling Lady Death beside me, inside me.
A whimper threatens to escape my throat, but I swallow it.
I won’t be weak. I can’t be fucking weak. Not here. This thing on my spine is already a weakness, so I need to find strength in other places.
I struggle against my bindings, wiggling from side to side to see if I can slip out of them somehow.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A voice stops me short. My breaths come out in harsh pants. I can’t see the speaker; I can’t even recognize the tone.
“Where are you?” I demand. I like to look my enemies in the eye. I like memorizing the faces of those I mean to kill.
“We’ve only ever had one other Sekar in our laboratory,” the voice continues. It comes from everywhere and nowhere at once. I know, instinctually, the identity of this man—or whatever the fuck he is.
Dr. Fucking Hyde.
“Sialen’s powers were nowhere near as strong as yours, and yet he served his purpose.”
Hearing the name of my Sekar on that bastard’s lips makes me push tighter against my restrictions. I recall him falling with me. I recall his arms wrapping around me at the last possible minute to protect me from the blow before we both passed out against one another.
I remember the irrationally safe feeling he instilled in me just before everything faded away.
“What have you done with Sialen?” My heart rears against my sternum as I dread the answer. If he hurt him, if he killed him, then my wrath will know no end. I will fight until he suffers for what he did. Every blow Sialen suffered will be returned with death wishes from my Lady herself!
I may not have liked him, but he was a Sekar. His blood was my blood. His heart, my heart. And his death will be avenged.
“I’ve done nothing to harm him. In fact, he’s next to you.”
I try to crane my neck to see if he’s telling the truth, but I find myself with the sudden inability to move.
What the fuck has he done to me? I want to growl, spit, and rage. I try to calm down, to think about how I can get out of here, but I can see nothing but bright light, and I know they placed it there purposely. So I can’t see.
But I can hear.
I hear metal and the slow dripping of liquid into glass.
“What’s wrong with him?” I shouldn’t be asking questions with such defiance, not when my life lies in Dr. Hyde’s hands, but I need to keep him talking. It’s better to hear his voice than to face the silence.
“His body could not handle the experimentation.”
Experimentation? What the fuck. Dread rises in me, and I hear the clang of metal scraping against stone.
“Let’s see if you fare any better, shall we?”
I feel a stab through my skin. I feel the blood and then nothing but agony.
I try to hold it in as much as I can, but it’s impossible. I open my mouth, and a scream rips out of me, but Dr. Hyde has no mercy. He laughs and slices again, and all I can do is scream.
And scream.
Until the darkness claims me once more.
The tightness on my wrist gives and I’m not even fully awake before I know that I’m loose. My body reacts, hand lashing out to attack before I even open my eyes.
“Stop! It’s me!”
I barely hear the words through my own foggy senses. My vision is slightly blurred and all I know is survival.
Hours.
That’s how long the experimentation lasted. I have no idea what Dr. Hyde did, all I know is the pain. My blood flowed into vials, my skin was cut open with scalpels, my head and body parts measured, tubes shoved down my throat, and more.
So much more.
There’s a fine line between studies and torture, and Dr. Hyde surpassed them all. Through the haze of my own pain without anesthesia to numb the dull press of his blades, I could hear the doctor chanting, claiming he was studying our race. That he was doing this for a greater good.
I was glad to slip into unconsciousness. But he woke me up. Every time my eyes closed, he woke me up to document my reactions. It didn’t matter how hard I struggled, metal still dug into my spine until I felt crippled entirely.
I don’t want to ever feel that weak again.
So when my bindings slip loose, I fucking fight. It doesn’t matter that I have no magic, that I’m nearly as useless as a human in this state, I will not go down without a fight.
“Emmera!” Hands grip my arms and haul me into a sitting position.
That’s when I open my eyes and see the most comforting gaze searching my face.
“Sialen…” His name is a surprised whisper on my lips. Our cries had risen together at one point during the torture session and I’m now as familiar with his pain as he is with my own. “W-what?” I turn my head side to side but the room we’re in is either a different one from our torture chamber, or our torture chamber has been thoroughly cleaned out.
The smell of blood and flesh no long filter the air.
“Get up.” Sialen is unkind as he tugs on the straps keeping my feet held down. I blink so many times, blink away the bruising soreness, the harsh glare of lighting, and take in his appearance. He looks as haggard as I feel. While there seems to be no trace of blood on his body, I don’t doubt it’s there, pressing against his skin just below the gray Hallow Hill blazer he wears.
Dark shadows smear beneath his pretty eyes like he hasn’t slept in weeks.
I want to ask how often they do this, but my mouth can’t form the words. Once is too many. And I almost fear what his answer will be, because I can see in his eyes, in his posture, that it has been more than once.
No wonder he is the way he is.
I feel dead inside. And it’s only been once for me.
So far.
“Hurry up. Let’s get out of here.”
I slide off the metal table, the jarring impact of my bare feet hitting the floor makes me stagger. Sialen holds me upright, and his touch is gentle and so at war with his murderous expression.
“Stay on your fucking feet and move.”
I suck in harsh breaths and follow after him as he leads me away from the stench of antiseptic and steel and up a flight of stairs.
“This is what happens when we disobey.” His cutting voice is harsh in his explanation. “This is why you shouldn’t make fucking waves.” His hands shoved against the door and I have to hurry and walk through it before it hits me in the face.
The halls are desolate and dark. I wonder how long we were in there for. How long I was poked and prodded like some alien experiment. And why?
“You’re lucky we didn’t get thrown into the motherfucking hallow.”
I finally find my voice. “The hallow?”
Hallow… is it a holy place? A place of healing?
A shiver races over my tender flesh and I know the answer isn’t at all as pretty as the wor
d is making it seem.
Nothing here ever is.
He whirls then and I slam against his chest. Nausea grips me. I’m weak. Belladonna mixes with my blood and drips down my nose. I can taste the poison on my mouth and in the back of my throat. Like it’s a part of me now, the same way Krist’s tail is a part of her, I feel like this metal thing is a part of me as well.
“The fucking hallow.” Sialen’s eyes flare with rage that’s unfamiliar. He’s always been angry, annoyed, but never this. “You think this was bad, Sekar? You know fucking nothing. You had to go and snoop, didn’t you? You had to fucking do it.” He shoves a hand through his hair; it glows silver in places, where the light of the moon fluttering in from the windows hits it.
“I don’t want to be here anymore,” I tell him dumbly. Like I have to explain why I was snooping. Why I have to make waves. I owe him no explanation, and yet I give it, no matter how weak it may sound.
“Do you think anyone wants to fucking be here? Are you that naive? Do you think anyone is here willingly? This isn’t an academy, it’s a fucking prison, you’d do well to remember that.” He turns from me and storms down the hall.
“Why did they experiment on us? What do they want with us?” I can’t remember the details. My brain is too foggy, my body in too much pain. But Sialen, he’s been there before. I follow with shuffled strides behind him, but he doesn’t stop. He’s like an elastic band pulled too tight. I can see his body waiting to snap.
His shoulders are tense and he cracks his neck side to side. “Because they fucking can. Because we are nothing to them but a solution to a fucked up problem for them. Stop asking questions when you aren’t ready for the answers.”
But I want to keep asking questions. I want to know what the fuck is going on around here. They claim we are safe; the truth is another matter entirely. We may be safe from the outside world, but are we safe from them? From Hallow Hill Academy?
The answer is no. We aren’t.
But here we aren’t replaceable. Not when we’re so rare. They’ll keep us alive for as long as they can to poke and prod, theirs to do with as they please.
