Captured by the Monsters
R.L. CAULDER
M.J. MARSTENS
WHITE RABBIT PUBLISHING
Copyright © 2022 by R.L. Caulder & M.J. Marstens
R.L. Caulder and M.J. Marstens reserve all rights to and/or involving this work as the authors. This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people either living or dead, or events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means whether electronic or mechanical, including information storage and retrieval systems, now known or hereinafter invented, without written permissions from the authors, except for brief quotations in a book review.
Cover by: Atlantis Book Design
Created with Vellum
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Epilogue
Chapter One
Sneak Peek!
Chapter One
Chapter One
SERA
I’d always hated the color pink.
However, as I grew up and opened my eyes to societal expectations, I realized it wasn’t the color I hated. It was everything that accompanied the stereotype of a female saying they liked pink.
That it made us girly, housemakers, and one day mothers. It was “femininity” personified in a color, and I fucking hated it.
I hated being boxed into an image that didn’t fit me.
I hated being told that I would be an incredible mother and wife one day, even though I was as single as it got.
Couldn’t I be more than that?
Or was I not enough as I was right now?
As I stared at the big red circle on the white page of my wall calendar, I was reminded there was something I hated more than all of that.
I hated my life being controlled by the government. I hated feeling like I had to suppress my anger, that I wasn’t allowed to show displeasure with how my life was governed. The older I grew, the more I resented this censorship we lived with daily.
Deep down, I knew the persona I let everyone see was a subdued, meek version of how I felt inside. We couldn’t afford to have an ember of fire within us, lest it turn into the light that sparked a mutiny.
The ring of red around the date two days from now symbolized my freedom from that. A genuine smile lifted the corners of my lips—an expression I hadn’t made in far too long—as I stared at my birthday. I was really looking forward to letting this five-thousand pound boulder that weighed so heavily on me roll away into the abyss, never to be seen again.
Ever since I turned eighteen, I spent each day in fear that it would be my last. Each morning since, I woke up and crossed off the day prior, thankful that I was one day closer to becoming twenty-five.
And here I was, just forty-eight hours from the shackles falling off and society being unable to control me any longer.
Forty-eight hours until my life was my own.
Forty-eight hours until I would no longer be eligible to be offered up as a sacrifice to uphold the treaty between The Above and The Below.
Tearing my eyes away from the calendar, I padded towards the fridge and grabbed a water bottle before sinking into my beige couch. Cracking the top open, I let the cold liquid pour down my throat as I considered what we really knew about the treaty.
As I swallowed, I realized we truly didn’t know jackshit. The thought made me chuckle because that’s really all I could do. We were like lambs to the slaughter, never questioning, just obeying. It was pathetically sad, the life we lived.
Placing my water on the coaster situated on my coffee table, I jumped as a ball of white fluff launched itself into my lap. My heart rate spiked before I laughed, scratching Gizmo on his chin, realizing how ridiculously skittish I was right now.
“Sorry, baby,” I cooed at my Maine coon fur-child. The only child my parents would get from me, much to their displeasure. Being a mom just wasn’t for me, I had quickly realized. I’d mom the fuck out of my cat, but human babies? No.
His sparkling green eyes stared at me quizzically before he headbutted my boob and purred. I stroked his soft white hair as he settled comfortably into a big ball on my legs. “Mommy is just a bit nervous right now,” I admitted, feeling like I somehow owed him an explanation for the confused look in his eyes.
Obviously, I knew he couldn’t understand me, but it was comforting to talk out loud as if he could. It always helped me work through my shit, and he was content to have all of my attention and love as I blabbered at him.
Rubbing the spot on his nose that he loved, I rationalized, “I mean, what are the odds that another lottery drawing will happen just four days after the last? I know the demands of the monsters in The Below seem to have increased, but the closest back-to-back drawing has been a month in between.”
His furry head tilted to look up at me with all the adoration in the world before he closed his eyes and purred in satisfaction, the sound reverberating through my legs. “Exactly, Gizmo. That would be unheard of. I’m stressed for no reason, aren’t I?”
Settling my hand on his tummy, I languidly pet him as my head tilted back to rest against the couch cushions, closing my eyes and attempting to chill the fuck out.
I had this in the bag. Nothing and no one could get in the way of Gizmo and me riding off into the sunset together, alone and happy—exactly the way I wanted it.
Perhaps the women that were within the parameters for Selection wouldn’t be so damn terrified of it if our leaders opted to tell us what actually happened to those who were offered up on a silver platter to the monsters below.
We were left to the worst of our imaginations—and I had a very wild one—because no woman had ever returned from The Below. Not a single soul in the history of our treaty with them—and the treaty spanned many centuries.
Our textbooks said that the treaty was struck as both populations were nearing extinction due to war. As is, the remaining human population had settled into what was previously known as New York City in the United States, the only prevailing area of life. It was supposed to be mutually beneficial to save both sides from ruin, but I wasn’t sure what the hell we got out of the deal in return for sending them human sacrifices. It just didn’t make sense.
The deal had originally stated one batch of ten human women per year, to uphold our end, but in my lifetime, it had increased to whenever the monsters demanded it. How the hell had our leaders let it get this bad? How could they not stand up for our lives and our rights?
What the
fuck were they hiding? They had to be receiving something substantial in return for all of the lives lost down there… Right?
What could be worth a life? How did one put a quantifiable value on that?
Inhaling deeply, I held my breath a moment and focused on gathering all of my negativity and fear into one tight ball. As I exhaled, I pictured the ball leaving my body, leaving me floating on cloud nine, where nothing could permeate the level of tranquility I was left with.
Everything would b—
My TV blared, celebratory music pouring from the soundbar.
I inhaled sharply. “No. No, no, no.”
This wasn’t happening. Was this some kind of sick fucking joke from the universe?
My head lifted from the cushion as I focused on the screen that was flashing neon colors around a white font that said “Congratulations to our newest Selections! Please wait to see the list of five names who will make us proud as they uphold the safety of our world by fulfilling the sacred treaty.”
Typically I’d scoff at the ridiculous notion that this was something to be excited about. The only prize won would be forfeiting your life. But today, my heart dropped into my stomach, and I couldn’t bring any snide remarks or thoughts to the surface.
This time felt different.
My breathing became erratic as I gasped for air, unable to calm myself as I gathered Gizmo into my arms and held him to my chest, trying to focus on his beating heart as an anchor for my emotions.
Rocking back and forth on the couch, tears pooled in my eyes as fear bled into every fiber of my being, waiting for the names to be displayed.
The screen flashed to a white background with black swirling script as the names were revealed.
Serafina Adler
Hope Cassidy
Madison Cromley
Olivia Keller
Mishka Langley
I fell into a vortex that made me feel like I was chained to the bottom of a lake. My vision was blurred, and my hearing was warped. I couldn’t tell down from up, or even if I was breathing.
My name was first on that list. Serafina Adler.
The screen flashed once more, and after years of reading it, I knew what the words would say by heart without even looking at it.
“Report to the loading zone at the Citadel within the next four hours. Bring nothing with you. If you do not report on time, your family will be subject to the defector clause of the treaty.”
Basically, if you defected and ran, your family would be killed. Not much of a choice there, unless you were a heartless piece of shit…and there had been a few of those over the years that the government had made examples of. It wasn’t an idle threat. Those who defected were eventually found and forced to watch their family members be tortured and executed—before they sent you down anyway. If you didn’t have any family, they would still find you and send you to The Below.
There was no escape.
Hot tears streamed down my face as I began to openly sob, cradling Gizmo to me and burying my face in his fur. My worst fear had come true, and so close to the date that marked my freedom, which made it hurt so much more. I’d allowed myself to hope and to dream of my future, and now I wouldn’t have one.
I wailed so loudly my neighbors could no doubt hear the utter heartbreak and despair that fractured my mind. Falling onto the floor, I held Gizmo tightly to me, willing myself to wake up from this terrible nightmare.
Two days and I would have been free.
My sobs eventually quieted after my body had nothing left to give, and reality set in through the haze. This was my new life, and nothing could change it. A blissful numbness settled over my mind and heart as I let Gizmo go and pushed myself to stand, implementing my plan in a robotic trance.
Every woman was told to have a plan in place to expedite the process if you were “lucky” enough to be chosen, so my affairs were already in order. My family would take Gizmo for me and look after him. I even had a stipulation that I thought had been funny at the time, back when I liked to think it would never happen, that they were to feed Gizmo a single scoop of sugar-free vanilla ice cream every night before bed.
The landlord would know to clear out my belongings that my family didn’t take with them, and the home would be available for a new tenant by the end of the week. As if I’d never existed here. Just like that. Erased from society, never to return.
As I moved through my small yet cozy apartment, I faintly heard my phone ringing incessantly from the kitchen. I knew it was my parents calling, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. Nothing could prepare you for this type of goodbye, one that had been permanent for every other woman before me.
What could I say that would make this easier on any of us? The answer was glaringly obvious—no words could help.
Reverting to autopilot, I walked to the kitchen and grabbed my phone to check how much time I had left. My wallowing had taken up two out of the four hours I had until I had to be at the Citadel. Damnit. I needed to be quick now.
I walked to my bedroom and pulled Gizmo’s carrier out of my closet, gathering all of his toys from the apartment and putting them inside with his favorite green blanket from my bed. It would give him some comfort with the smell of me and our home until it eventually faded, which hopefully wouldn’t happen until he had adjusted to life with my parents.
As I placed the crate onto the bed, my eyes caught on the floor-length mirror in the corner. Something in my broken gaze snapped me out of this pity party I was stuck in. My gray eyes looked dead. All the fight and spark gone. That wasn’t the Sera everyone knew. While I had censored myself enough to fly under the radar of our government and their workers, my family and close friends knew the determined and headstrong woman that I was.
I had no option but to go, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t fight tooth and nail to come back.
A pounding on my door startled me, my hand flying to my chest as I jumped. Walking towards the entrance, I called out, “Who is it? I’m busy.”
“Sera! Let us in right this instant, young lady!” my mom’s trill voice demanded, causing me to let out a heavy sigh. I guess this is happening now.
You could always count on your mother to make you feel like a scolded child, even as an adult, right?
I was surprised a hole didn’t burn into the white front door from how hard I stared at it, contemplating how to continue. I wanted to see my parents, I wanted to let them hold me and comfort me, telling me everything would be okay…but they couldn’t guarantee that this time. No one could.
“Don’t deny yourself or us this moment, darling,” my dad softly called. He had always understood my thought process and actions, even when my mom couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Swallowing the lump that had lodged itself in my throat, I unlocked the door and pulled it open. I didn’t have a second to breathe before my mom launched herself at me and wailed, “My baby. I can’t lose you, Sera,” as her arms wrapped around my waist and her face nuzzled into my neck, instantly getting it wet with her tears.
Biting my lower lip—hard—to focus on something other than my own emotions that wanted to well up again, I looked at my dad to try to get some assistance with Mom. But what I saw there broke me.
My dad was always the calm, cool, collected one of the family. The voice of reason who wasn’t quick to anger, and I could honestly say I had never seen the man cry. He was a glass-half-full kind of guy that managed to find the silver lining of every shit situation.
I guess if there was ever a moment for him to break down, it’d be when his only child was being sacrificed. There wasn’t a silver lining in sight to this clusterfuck.
His lower lip was quivering as his blue-gray eyes pooled with unshed tears.
“Oh, Dad,” I said, my voice cracking as he gave in and wrapped his arms around Mom and me, holding us so hard I knew he was imagining that he could protect us from everything.
He would do anything for us, but there was nothing any of us could do t
o prevent this from happening.
My cheek rested on Mom’s soft head of blonde hair as I allowed myself to cry right alongside them. Her hands ran soothing circles on my back as she tried to calm me, despite her own sorrow.
My parents weren’t always perfect, but who was? What I could say was that they loved me fiercely, and I knew that if they could, they’d offer themselves up in replacement of me in a heartbeat, no hesitation.
After a few minutes, I retracted myself and sniffled, wiping my nose with the back of my hand as I leaned down to grab Gizmo, who was hitting my ankles with his little head. Cradling him like a baby, I rubbed his belly fur as his eyes fluttered closed in bliss. I put on a fake, albeit wobbling, smile as I looked at my parents sternly. “Don’t forget the scoop of sugar-free vanilla ice cream every night before bed for him.”
This caused my mom to fall into hysterical crying once more, but my dad managed to plaster on a matching fake smile as he put an arm around Mom and pulled her head to his chest as he promised, “I will, darling. He will get all of our love and all of the ice cream.”
Nodding at him, I turned to walk with Gizmo to his crate in my room. My eyes stung, having to come to terms with saying goodbye to my best friend. I moved my hand from his fluffy belly to under his chin, causing his head to fall back as he extended his neck all the way out for me, purring in delight.
A single tear fell down my cheek as I lifted him to plant a kiss on his head. Pressing my lips to his forehead, I whispered in parting, “I’ll come back, Gizmo. I swear.”
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