Page 15 of Emerald

Did… that…that son of a gun just suggest I …?

Curiosity can be a bit of a bitch sometimes. This is one of those times.

I’m shaking harder, when I turn back to her. "That's anatomically impossible."

She lets out a mirthless chuckle. "I'm a nurse, and so I was sure to point that out to them. They started showing videos of how buyers have sex. Avoid talking about it. Trust me."

At least the bugs weren’t interested in that. This is a new form of hell, it seems.

I gulp, then nod. "My name's Olivia."

"I'm Ree."

The sound of the pneumatic doors hissing open is just about the only warning I get before torture gas floods my airways sending the both of us both into a hacking fit.

It's a while before I gain control of my spasming body again, and when I do, I cling on to her for dear life, my rage at the contact somehow less important than grounding my mind before it fractures for good.

Her arm is wrapped around my waist and mine around her shoulders as tears stream down our faces.

"You have no names until your buyer gives them to you," the slug says to us in a nasty tone.

He goes back to his salesperson's voice. "That concludes our special session. We will bring another of the harem out to play soon."

He turns back to us, his eyes focused on Ree. "Put the green whore back in her chamber."

Ree tries to protest. She spends a few more moments trying and failing to argue with the slime-covered fucker and only ends up choking on gas. Me right along with her.

Knowing a losing battle when I see one, I reluctantly let go of her and climb back into my pod. Tremors wrack my body, but we don't look away from each other. I really want to get another long look at the slug, but it was pretty clear already that they don’t have the spindly neck of the bug men.

Doesn’t matter. It’ll feel just as good to kill a slug as it was the bugs. I know it.

5

Kroaicho

Iawakenwithastart, disoriented and alone. The walls of my prison are smooth, and cold, and seem to pulse with an eerie, otherworldly light. I shiver, feeling the chill seep into my bones. My skin begins to shimmer with an array of colors: blue, violet, and red.

Not my calmest moment.

The panic sets in regardless as I try to comprehend the situation. The air is thick with the scent of decay and something metallic, creating a nauseating cocktail that churns my stomach.

My hands instinctively reach out to touch the walls, seeking purchase, any familiar sensation. The walls are slick and unresponsive, offering no comfort. I recoil, feeling a wave of helplessness wash over me. As my senses come alive all of a sudden, I am slammed with sensory overload. The smell I perceive is acrid, bitter and I get the vague impression that were I not surrounded by walls on all sides I'd have just been witness to something truly terrifying.

It takes some time to adjust, but with that gone, my senses return to normal. With a clearer head, I pick up the sounds of distant explosions and muffled voices echoing through the walls, growing louder as I focus on them. It's a cacophony of languages I don't understand, filled with fear, anger, and desperation. I'm alarmed, that much is a given, and it takes a bit of effort to recouple my memory of all that happened to lead me to this point.

I remember that I was captured by genali. Did they sell me?

I am on my feet in an instant and with that done, I take a minute to take stock of the cave I am in.

Driven by instinct, I begin to claw at the walls, desperate to escape. My claws, durable enough for the task, dig into the material. The walls resist my efforts. Yet, with each desperate attempt, a small amount of material chips away. As the wall begins to yield, a draft of colder air rushes in, carrying with it the scent of dirt and something wild. Hope ignites within me.

The sounds of approaching footsteps echo through the prison, growing louder. Adrenaline surges through me, fueling a final, desperate push against the weakened wall. With a final heave, I break through the wall, meeting dirt, and quickly begin tunneling through at vicious speeds. The soil around me is a familiar sensation, grounding me as I dig.

I maintain the pace until I tumble into a narrow tunnel. The tunnel is pitch black, filled with the same metallic scent from before. As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see figures moving ahead, their forms indistinct in the low light. They speak in rapid, harsh tones, their words lost in the echo of the tunnel.

My heart pounds in my chest. I am no longer alone, but the company offers little comfort. The figures ahead are a threat, their intentions unknown. I decide to remain hidden until I can determine the next best step.

Crouching low, I peer at the figures, my bioluminescent skin dimming to avoid detection. The tunnel is narrow, and their movements are slow and methodical. They carry equipment, strange metallic devices. I strain to catch any recognizable words or phrases, but their language remains foreign, alien to my ears.

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