Page 6 of Pet: Genesis

“Fuck you.”

The words cling to his memory like a bell setting off the beginning of this challenge. She’s either very brave or very stupid. She tried to kill him with a primitive weapon created by humanity. She didn’t seem to care about what would result in her life. He can’t get the defiant gaze she held out of his mind.

The servants sense his approach and stop what they are doing. They each step away silently, their vacant expressions a reminder of the prison they now live in. He briefly glances at the inhibitors on their temples as he approaches the bath, standing over the woman’s naked form. Her body is still submerged in the water up to her face, the technology from his world still working to remove impurities.

She was filthy when he discovered her. He wrinkles his nose in disgust as he recalls the pungent scent wafting off her from the years of dirt, grime, and blood. Her clothing was the same color as the ground beneath her feet. But what more could he expect from a human living on the outskirts of the Leviathan civilization, fighting to survive?

It’s taken several wash cycles and excessive scrubbing, but her skin has finally begun to peek through the dirt, the awful odor that clung to her now all but gone. At this stage in the process, her hair has been trimmed down six inches due to the damage of the years. It was so matted from years of neglect it couldn’t be salvaged. Now, it barely rests at her jawline. The water causes the dark tresses to wave slightly; it’s curious.

A frown finds its way to his lips as he studies her, now standing over her naked form. She shouldn’t be here. She isn’t servant material. If anything, he should have placed an inhibitor on her, thus taking away her will to fight. She is strong. Mentally, she is a powerful adversary. And, if there’s one thing he enjoys most in the world, it’s breaking those who believe themselves to be strong. His gaze moves from her face, taking in the state of her body. Her bones are poking through her thin skin from lack of food. She is dangerouslyemaciated from starvation, making her features harsher than they should be. Calluses cover her hands from fighting to survive, something he saw for himself.

After a few weeks of regular feeding and treatment, he’ll have her just how he likes his servants. Except she won’t be a servant in his care. She won’t even be a slave. She’ll be more like something he keeps around for entertainment. Something he takes care of and expects to obey his every whim because she knows he owns her. He smiles to himself. Not a slave, but he knows the human term for it.

“Pet.”

Iris

Something is tickling my nose. It’s soft, almost like the wind. But it feels too cold to be the wind. I scrunch my face, swiping at the tip of my nose before rolling over into the soft material under me. The tickling shifts, dragging across my face to the rim of my ear where it stays. I frown in my sleep as I try and sink deeper into the warm—my eyes fly open, my brain finally registering the unfamiliar textures surrounding me. I swipe at the soft sheets, clasping the material. I’m in bed. A large bed that sits on a circular frame. The material of the bed is so soft my heart jumps each time I move out of fear of sinking into the floor.

I look around the room, but nothing seems familiar. The wall I’m facing is dark. And as I continue to look around, I realize all the walls are dark. All except the ceiling that has astarry night sky. I furrow my brow in confusion when I realize the tickling has reestablished itself on my nose. As it continues, my head finally understands what this is. It’s cool air from an air conditioner.

Confusion surges through me as I try and wrack my brain for an explanation. These are luxuries that only existed in my childhood. My head is groggy, my memories muddled. The last thing I recall is walking back to the blight and finding it up in flames. Everything from there is just images. A boy, a bloody man, rubble, and fire...The images in my head begin to clear up with each passing second, and I feel a wave of panic come over me. Tears brim my eyes, spilling down my cheeks as my memories bombard me—the loss of life and the blight.

The alien...

“You’re awake.” I sit up quickly, my gaze whipping in the direction of the intruder’s voice.

It’shim.

The being that snatched me up like I was nothing stands in the room’s doorway, his vivid eyes focused on me. I blink in complete confusion. How is he completely unscathed? How am I? I know I pulled the pin on that grenade. I saw his shocked expression as I did so. I vaguely note that there is a hallway behind him, but it’s only for an instant. He steps into the room, and with his entrance, the wall appears as solid as it was moments before.

I blink in confusion. He didn’t press a button or close it with his hands. The door just appeared.

He’s wearing a dark shirt with sleeves that stop just shy of his forearms, revealing unscathed, smooth skin. The shirt hugs hisframe perfectly, allowing me the perfect view of the lean muscle that lies beneath the foreign material. My eyes drift to his face. A face I have to convince myself exists. There isn’t a flaw on his smooth skin. He’s eerily perfect, right down to the unusual hue of his hair that falls down his back.

My instincts register that this predator is approaching me, causing fear to squeeze my throat. All the hatred I’ve garnered over the years flies out the window in the face of this being, replaced in an instant by fear.

“Stop!” I cry out. I don’t know if I’m asking him to stop approaching me or if I just need it all to stop. The memories, the emotion, the fear. All of it. I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them. To my shock, he’s already here sitting inches away from me at the edge of the bed.

The way he looks at me is terrifying. There is no specific expression on his face. Only vague attention is directed toward me. I can tell there is so much on his mind that I couldn’t possibly begin to understand. He angles his head slightly, taking in my features.

“What do I call you?” The sound of his voice is one that’s hypnotizing. I fight myself from closing my eyes just to relish the sound.

I take a few deep breaths, steadying myself before answering.

“Where are my friends?” I ask. It shocks me how brave my voice sounds in the face of this terrifying predator. I want to ask him more than this, but all that matters now is their lives.His face changes for the first time since I’ve met this being. It’s a smallchange, just a subtle lift of his brow and the slight upturn at the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t like to repeat myself,” he says. Even though his face gives off the misdirection of amusement, the tone in his voice makes me want to crawl under the covers and cower. Gone is that soothing charm. Now, nothing but a sinister gaze is waiting for me to challenge him. He’s craving it.

“Iris,” I whisper.

He scoffs at my response. “I see you possess some sense of intelligence.” He stands from his position, making his way across the room to a bureau, and pulls it open. His soft chuckle echoes over the room. “Which can’t be much, seeing as you tried to blow yourself up promptly after I caught you attacking someone you couldn’t dream of defeating.”

A wave of nausea washes over me as I recall the moment he barreled his way into my path. But his words catch my attention, and I immediately pat my body down, looking at him in confusion.

“How—”

“If your planet’s most advanced weapons couldn’t stop us, what makes you think a primitive weapon like that would?” he asks, avoiding a true answer. But I don’t have time to dissect his answer further as concern for everyone else’s well-being comes over me.

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