Invisible Monsters

by H L Macfarlane

When he spied Poppy, Dorian scuffed at the ground with a hoof and shook wet hair out of his face, standing up to his full height in the process. His pointed ears twitched when he realised Poppy was unabashedly staring at him.

  “What?” he asked. For some reason Dorian seemed nervous.

  Poppy cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean, ‘what’?”

  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Why am I looking at you like you’re an eight-foot satyr who’s standing where a man used to be?”

  “That wasn’t how you were looking at me.”

  Poppy’s heart skipped a beat. She hesitated before asking, “Then how exactly was I looking at you?”

  “Like you were judging me.”

  “I wasn’t judging you. How could I even do that? It’s not like I know any other satyrs.” Poppy paused to take a breath, wondering whether it would be a mistake to be honest with Dorian. But they had come this far together, after all. Being honest once wouldn’t kill her.

  “I was just thinking that you were actually real,” she eventually explained. “That I…hadn’t dreamed you up.”

  “Oh?” Dorian’s eyebrows rose infuriatingly when he caught the way Poppy’s face burned at her stupid admission. A slow smile slid across his face, and he took a step towards her. When Poppy took a step back Dorian closed the distance between them in two broad, easy strides that left her trapped with a tree behind her.

  Poppy avoided looking him in the eye. “What are you doing, Dorian?” she protested, holding up her hands to stop him from getting too close.

  Dorian rested a clawed hand above her head, against the tree. “You prefer me like this, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes. You actually like the look of me better like this than as a human. I didn’t realise you were so kinky, Poppy.”

  “I’m – shut up, Dorian!” Poppy bit out, sliding out and escaping before Dorian could grab her. Her skin was blazing; her insides far too hot. She needed to cool down.

  When Poppy locked eyes on the waterfall she acted before she could think things through properly. Despite her run through the rain her clothes were still reasonably dry, and she didn’t much like the idea of walking back to the facility with them soaking, so without looking at Dorian she pulled them off and tossed them onto a low-hanging branch, sliding out of her trainers and diving into the pool as quickly as possible.

  Great choice, Poppy, she chided as she swam below the surface of the bracing, refreshingly cold water. Get called out on your stupid attraction to a giant fucking goat and proceed to take all your clothes off. Genius thought process.

  But the pool was so dark Poppy knew Dorian wouldn’t be able to see anything. When she resurfaced by the waterfall she glanced behind her; Dorian was watching with an unreadable expression on his inhuman features. Hating how crestfallen she felt that he hadn’t followed her in, Poppy took a deep breath and flung herself beneath the waterfall, revelling in the pressure of it against her skin. It felt like it was removing all of the cuts and wounds and gashes that had been drawn across her very being, leaving her with nothing.

  When she resurfaced once more Poppy found herself behind the waterfall, where there was barely enough space for two people between the rushing water and the shelf of rock behind it. There was a very narrow ledge above her, so Poppy sank to the bottom of the pool to gain enough momentum to spring up and reach it. But she had used most of her strength climbing, so, after getting her arms, neck and head up, Poppy realised she couldn’t push herself up enough to sit on it.

  She contented herself to dangle from it instead, head resting on her forearms whilst the rest of her from the waist down remained in the pool. The roar of the waterfall filled her ears, masking the sound her unruly heart was making in her chest. Poppy was still too hot; every nerve of her body was on edge.

  She wanted Dorian to join her. She didn’t want Dorian to join her.

  She wanted to throw all her responsibilities to the side and simply live. She was terrified of the consequences of doing so.

  She wanted…

  When the crashing of the waterfall broke for a second Poppy knew her decision had been made. With her dangling out of the water her head was level with Dorian’s when he pressed up against her, his mouth against her ear just as hot as she was.

  “What are you doing behind here, hiding?” he murmured, his irresistible voice melting away all of Poppy’s remaining resolve. A clawed hand traced gentle lines down her stomach and thigh.

  She gulped. “I wasn’t hiding. I was…”

  “Waiting?”

  Numbly Poppy nodded, burying her face into her arms out of sheer terror and embarrassment. There was no masking her feelings from Dorian here, not when the two of them were wet and naked and pressed against each other. Poppy was achingly aware of every inch of the monster behind her, whose breathing was as ragged as her own.

  Dorian kissed her neck, hands on her waist urging her to turn around and face him. The sheer weight of him against her meant Poppy didn’t need the ledge to stay up; when she finally turned she was pinned in place.

  Shaking slightly she looked up at Dorian, marvelling at his irises that were a shade of blue no human eyes could ever be. His slitted pupils were watching her just as carefully as his hands were roaming, all over each and every part of her.

  “I can change back, Poppy,” he said very quietly, the words a puff of breath against her lips. “I don’t want to hurt you. This would be much easier if –”

  “Hurt me all you want,” she cut in, winding her legs around Dorian’s waist as she did so. Poppy realised just how small she was compared to him in the process, but it didn’t deter her from her foolish decision. “I don’t want easy. I just want to feel it all.”

  Dorian quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “You’ll definitely feel it, you tiny idiot.”

  Despite the furious heat that crossed her face at the comment, Poppy remained unfazed. “Are you telling me you don’t want to fuck me as you are right now?”

  “I absolutely want to fuck you as I am right now. I always want to fuck you.”

  “That’s –”

  “Just like you’ve always wanted me to.”

  “No I haven’t!” Poppy protested, eyes wide in indignation. “That’s not true at –”

  Dorian’s mouth swallowed the rest of her lie, teeth sharp against her lips and tongue. But they both knew just how hard Dorian would have to dig them in to make her bleed, so Poppy didn’t flinch away from their razor-sharp edges.

  Poppy slid her arms around Dorian’s neck, pressing herself as closely to him as she possibly could. She squeezed his waist with her legs, body impatient for what was to come next.

  “You’re killing me, Poppy,” Dorian breathed when he finally broke their kiss. “Are you really sure about doing this with me like –”

  “How many times do I have to say yes? Or will I literally have to push you down and sit on your dick so you get the –”

  Poppy let out a cry when Dorian’s arms tightened around her and pulled her back through the waterfall, deftly manoeuvring over the rocky base of the pool until he reached the moss-covered bank.

  He slammed Poppy down upon it, eyes blazing. Dorian was enormous and intimidating, looming over her with his terrifying horns that could so easily impale her. And yet there was something ruling her brain far stronger than fear – the same reckless instinct that made her scale a cliff in front of monsters intent on buying her flesh and blood and bone.

  “Last chance, Poppy King,” Dorian growled.

  “I’m fed up of last chances,” she said, running a hand along his horns until she found an ear. All Poppy had to do was graze it with her fingertips and Dorian’s self control seemed to evaporate. He pinned Poppy to the ground and, in the space of a moment, he was inside her.

  The cry of shock that fell from Poppy’s lips only seemed to spur Dorian on harder, and faster, until she was whimpering against his mouth and clinging on for dear life. His claws bit into her flesh as
if he couldn’t quite get close enough to Poppy, and when she bled his tongue eagerly lapped the stuff up.

  When Dorian kissed her again his mouth was metallic with the taste of it. It only made Poppy more desperate for him to break her – now that the initial shock had worn off she craved for Dorian to push the limits of her own body as far as possible.

  “More,” she gasped, pulling Dorian’s head down to whisper into his ear. “I know you can do more than that.”

  He stared at her incredulously. “What are you, Poppy?”

  “Yours.”

  She hadn’t meant to say it – Poppy didn’t want to be anyone’s – but the word had the effect she desired. Dorian’s mouth was vicious against her own, hands clawing at her thighs and breasts and hair as the entire length of him slammed into her, bringing tears to her eyes.

  It was painful.

  It was brutal.

  It was the greatest pleasure Poppy had ever experienced.

  When finally Dorian’s entire body tensed and relaxed after one, final thrust Poppy was left hardly able to breathe. But then Dorian rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of him, and she realised he could barely breathe, too.

  The hands that had been so rough before gently stroked down along her spine, sending shivers through Poppy’s exhausted body. Neither of them said a thing. There were no words to explain what had just happened.

  They didn’t return to the facility for a long, long time.

  CHLOE BETTANY

  Casey

  The fact that Poppy King had not yet apologised to Casey for slapping her across the face would have, months ago, infuriated her. It likely would have ended their friendship.

  Things were different now.

  Casey hadn’t realised just how different immediately after her altercation with Poppy. It was only after spending more and more time with Patrick, and looking at her friend through a furious, hurt lens that Casey finally clocked onto the fact something was up.

  And then, when Andrew and Poppy both stopped speaking to Fred altogether despite the fact Fred clearly – and desperately – wished to talk to them Casey began to grow deeply concerned. It wasn’t just that something was different or ‘up’.

  Something was wrong.

  Poppy and Dorian were different together now, too, insomuch as it felt like they were together. But not in a way Casey could strictly understand. There was a distance between Poppy and Dorian that wouldn’t make sense if they were merely sleeping together or dating. It wasn’t the same distance Poppy had placed between herself and everyone else, either.

  Only Andrew seemed truly close to her now, having become something of a bodyguard for her for reasons Casey could not comprehend. If she’d ever doubted before whether he was in love with Poppy, she didn’t now.

  It didn’t help Casey’s uneasiness that, sometimes, when she and Patrick were lying in bed and she was moments away from sleep, Casey thought she could feel…something. The soft, smooth slide of something that wasn’t a hand across her leg, creeping up her thigh. Whenever she blinked back into consciousness the sensation was gone, though, and Patrick would shush her back to sleep.

  Yes, something was definitely, disturbingly wrong.

  Casey needed to figure out what.

  She was accidentally given the perfect opportunity when she reached the pool for her usual, sunset swim, only to find Poppy all alone in the water, watching the sun die behind the heather-covered mountains.

  “Poppy.”

  Poppy jumped in surprise. When she realised who had spoken her name Poppy immediately made to exit the pool, but Casey dived into the water and caught her friend’s arm before she got very far.

  “Don’t go, Poppy,” Casey begged. “Please. We need to talk.”

  A frustrated look crossed Poppy’s face. She tried to pull her arm out of Casey’s grip, but Casey only held on tighter.

  “Casey, if this is about our stupid fight then I’m sorry I slapped you, but –”

  “Screw the fight!” she interrupted. “I don’t care about that. It was a long time coming, but it’s over now.”

  Poppy hesitated. “So what do you want to talk to me about?”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “What the hell is going on with what?”

  “With you!” Casey cried, exasperated. “With Fred, and Andrew, and especially Dorian and Patrick. And don’t you dare tell me that nothing’s wrong, because I know there is.”

  When she let go of Poppy’s arm her friend leaned against the back of the pool, looking as if she’d rather like to slide down into the water and never resurface. It was a look Poppy had worn often over the summer.

  “Why did you bring up Patrick?” she asked, which surprised Casey. “What’s happened with him?”

  “I – I’m not sure, exactly,” Casey replied, leaning against the pool beside Poppy as she did so. “Look, it’s going to sound stupid, but sometimes in bed it feels like…I don’t know. Like there’s something else in bed with me or –”

  “Pretend we’re talking about something else,” Poppy cut in, a bright smile across her face that completely belied the topic of conversation.

  “Poppy?”

  Beneath the water she kicked Casey’s leg, and she looked over to the glass-walled social area. Dorian and Patrick had come in to sit beside Andrew on one of the long sofas; they kept glancing at the girls in the pool curiously.

  “So something is going –”

  “Yes, but for the love of god I can’t be found to be telling you, so hug me or something like we’re making up.”

  “…aren’t we?”

  “Of course we are, you dumb bitch. I love you. You know that.”

  When Casey flung her arms around Poppy it wasn’t because of a ruse. She genuinely meant it, though she hated that tears were welling up in her eyes.

  “Don’t call me a dumb bitch…bitch,” she muttered, still clinging onto Poppy as she spoke. Casey was gratified when Poppy’s arms wrapped around her and squeezed, hard.

  “There’s so much to tell you, Casey,” she replied, very, very quietly. “But you can’t tell anyone. Please.”

  “Andrew knows, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes. For a while now.”

  “…why Andrew?”

  “Because he worked some stuff out. And he may have saved my life.”

  Casey broke out of the hug to stare at Poppy with wide eyes. “What do you mean he saved your life? Poppy, what’s happened to you all summer?”

  Poppy laughed as if Casey had said something silly and hilarious. “Can you keep up this act for ten minutes whilst I give you the most ridiculous, horrific and fucked-up summary of events you’ve probably ever heard?”

  Casey snickered. “You’re really asking the girl who can pretend to be interested in what the guys from the rugby team have to say for a solid two hours if she can act happy for ten minutes? Of course I can.”

  “Then…” Poppy stole an almost imperceptible glance at the social area, “you’re never going to guess just how bloody difficult it is for me to die.”

  *

  When Patrick came by Casey’s bedroom that night she had no idea how she was supposed to act normal. After everything that Poppy had told her – after she’d lifted her compression bandage and proven that her arm was completely undamaged – Casey was terrified of what to do or say.

  “Cass, what’s wrong?” Patrick asked, concern colouring his face as he made to pull Casey down onto the bed with him. She hated that she flinched away. “Cass…?”

  “You and Dorian,” she whispered, silently begging that Poppy would forgive her for not being able to keep a secret. “You’re not human. Are you – what do you want from me, Patrick? Are you going to…to eat me or –”

  “Jesus Christ, Cass. Jesus fucking Christ.” Patrick stood up, pacing the room back and forth relentlessly even as Casey began to cry. “Who told you? It was Poppy, wasn’t it? I knew something was up when I saw you guys in the pool.”

&n
bsp; “W-what does it matter if it was Poppy or not? Everything she’s told me is true, isn’t it? You haven’t even denied it.”

  “Cass –”

  “Just tell me the truth, Patrick! Did you buy me? Am I an object to you?”

  He dragged a hand over his face. “Yes, at first. But –”

  “Oh my God.”

  “Cassandra, let me finish,” he said, grabbing hold of her hands before Casey could pull them away. “It was like that at first – and I’m so sorry. But it’s not like that now. Cass, I love you. It’s so stupid. So fucking stupid, but I do. I love how smart and confident and honest you are. I even love your pettiness and how you can charm anyone in a ten foot radius into doing what you want. So if…if you don’t want to be with me, then that’s okay. I’ll let you go.”

  “You…you will?”

  He nodded seriously. “Yes, I will. I hope that you’ll stay with me instead, though.”

  Casey considered this. She did care for Patrick, more than any man she’d ever been with. Though she hadn’t intended to fall for him at all. Though she didn’t want to, especially now.

  But if Patrick loved her, then…

  “Help me and Poppy and Andrew get everyone out of here and I’m yours.”

  Patrick stared at her blankly. “Help you –”

  “Out of here, yes. And tell me what the fuck it is you keep doing to me when you think I’m asleep, or so help me God I’ll cut your dick off.”

  INTERLUDE VII

  Lily hadn’t meant to cut Chloe’s hand open. It was a stupid mistake with a knife in the kitchen. She didn’t want to make a scene of the whole thing, so Chloe headed to the infirmary by herself, clutching a damp wad of paper towels against the wound. She hoped it wouldn’t scar.

  When she reached the infirmary, however, nobody was around to help her, and Dorian’s office was empty. So she headed up the stairs, though she’d never gone up to the first floor of the west wing before. But Poppy had been up there plenty of times, and so had Andrew and Rachelle and Casey. It was where Dorian’s bedroom was, Chloe knew, so her best bet to get help was to knock on his door.

  An unsettling sound gave Chloe pause when she began walking down the corridor of the first floor. It sounded…inhuman. She didn’t like it at all. She liked it even less when she passed a half-open door and spied what looked like a twisted, scaly –