Page 7 of Pet: Genesis

“Where are my friends?” I ask a little stronger this time.

The Leviathan moves with inhuman grace as he approaches me with fabric in his hands.

“Dead,” he says as if it isn’t the most earth-shattering news I’ve encountered. I fight through the tears, threatening to force their way up, gripping the sheets for support.

“H-how do you know they’re my friends?” I ask.

He unfolds the fabric, placing it on the edge of the bed. It’s a dress—a white dress with lace trims intricately placed.

“Anyone living in that wasteland that encountered us will be dead unless they were taken prisoner, which I don’t consider a much better fate.”

He rises, motioning to the dress.

“Put this on,” he says. I slowly look down at my body, realizing I’m wearing a strange top that only covers my breasts and underwear. I reach for the dress to put it on, getting out of bed in the process. The Leviathan’s gaze never wavers as he watches me with those strangely colored eyes. Even from this distance, I can see the blue flecks burning bright within them.

Once I have the dress on, he makes his way to a place in the wall. I watch in awe as the wall disappears again, revealing the hallway.

“Come.”

I quickly follow behind him, lightly pulling at the strange material of the dress that tickles my skin. The hallway is concise and simple. It’s made completely of glass, leading to one double door at the end. I note that the floor is dark marble, and outside the glass, I can see nothing but the clouds that blow gently against the obstruction. It’s either extremely foggy, or we’re very high up.

The Leviathan is still making his way to the doors at the end of the hall, so I quickly force myself into a jogto catch up.

“Why did you bring me here?” I ask.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look in my direction. His face holds no disclosure of his current emotional state. Once we reach the end of the hall, the door slides open, unlike the wall in the bedroom that reappears and disappears at will. I take in the strange-looking box on the other side of the door just as the Leviathan steps in. It takes a moment for my mind to remember something similar to this from my childhood. It’s an elevator like the one that was in my father’s office building.

The Leviathan pulls me out of my thoughts.

“You won’t like it if I have to force you in here,” he says, clearly unaware of what impact his kind has had on me. His tone forces me to quickly enter the room, standing uncomfortably close. The doors slide closed, and there’s a sudden dip in my stomach.

We’re moving down.

It’s terrifying being this close to a Leviathan. I know nothing about him or his people. I don’t know his name, what he is capable of, or even who he is in their society. Our world has gathered little to no information about the Leviathan; the best we knew was from people who barely escaped their attacks. I try my best to keep a brave face. I can tell by his interactions with me he likes fear. He wants me to show weakness.

I can’t give him that satisfaction.

After a few seconds, the elevator stops its descent, opening to reveal an entirely new location. It looks like a dining room. The ceiling-to-floor windows are tall, letting in the light of the world around us. Greenery surrounds us like the forests in the geographybooks I used to look at with my older brother. The floor itself is a beautiful dark wood, and in the center of the room is a long dining table with chairs on either side. I eye the Leviathan curiously as he steps around one of the chairs, motioning for me to have a seat.

His gaze is still intensely focused on me, daring me to challenge his unspoken authority. So, I force my legs to move, and I take my seat at the table. Once I’m seated, he moves out of my line of vision, and I tense when suddenly a plate of food is set down on either side of me. I don’t hide the shock as I take in the servants. They’re human. I look around for the Leviathan, but he is nowhere to be seen. So, I take the opportunity to speak. I look at the woman nearest to me. She looks to be in her twenties. Her dark hair is pulled up into a bun to keep it out of her face.

“You have to help me—” I trail off as she completely ignores my presence. Her eyes are trained ahead, with a lack of interest in anything. As I focus closer, I note that her pupil is dilated heavily. The black is so expanded that the blue of her eyes is nothing more than a thin ring that sits on the outer edge.

I notice another woman walking toward me, this one with brown hair. I immediately reach for her.

“Please, listen to—”

“She can’t hear you.” I jump, releasing the woman. She doesn’t falter as she walks away from me. My gaze shifts to the Leviathan. He has an amused grin on his lips as he studies me. I didn’t even hear him enter the room. He holds his hand out to his left, watching as the servant comes willingly into his arms. He gently turns her so that the side of her headis visible.

“They all have inhibitors. They can only do as I say. What I command them to do,” he says with a cruel smile. I take in the round silver point on her temple, the proof of her unwilling service. I shake my head in horror. She is a slave. All of them are. Their free will has been taken from them by the terrifying being that stands over me.

“Why am I here?” My shaky whisper fills the silence in the air. He releases the woman, and she walks away, a blank expression still plastered on her face. He watches her exit, his eyes holding no emotion. He finally turns to face me, making his way to where I am seated. His smile is painfully beautiful but utterly terrifying. It’s inhuman.

The Leviathan stands directly over me, reaching his hand toward my face. I flinch, closing my eyes to wait for the pain. But I only feel the featherlight touch of his fingers against my temple. When I open my eyes, his smile is gone, his eyes focused on the stray curl he tucked behind my ear. I am trembling before him. He notices it, too, his eyes dipping to take in my state before meeting my gaze.

“Right now, to eat,” he says.

My breathing hitches, and I blink, trying to figure out his motive. But he proves his words by reaching across me, pulling one of the plates in front of me. He’s serious. He tilts his head as he studies me, his hand gently grabbing my chin to lift my face toward his.

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