Page 143 of My Monster's Keeper
The door swings open, and three alphas stand at the edge, not quite daring to enter my territory.
“We’d like you to come with us,” the alpha glances at the other, “please.”
I dip my chin and shuffle out of the cell.
I’m escorted by three creatures. The giant that I’ve learned is named Dug. Which, gotta admit, kinda hilarious. The white creature that I named Yartush because of the sounds it makes breathing, and a small pixie-like creature I call Blowie. Not for fun references but because he has the same appeal as a maggot-filled blowfly.
They walk me through the factory and out to where his royal highness, Grant the fuckstain traitor, holds court. And he literally holds court, sitting on a throne of twisted metal with all his moronic usurpers.
He comes in to talk to me at times but rarely. It’s mostly a scripted conversation.
Are you ready to open the doors yet?
No.
Have fun in your isolation and torture.
He walks away.
He has no interest in me and stays as far away from me as he can, which is strange.
“Good morning, Becky.”
I look him over. He’s thin and balding, he’s starting to get a fat gut with all the humans he’s consuming. He’s destroying the body I grew up with, and I can’t find it in me to care. Perhaps he’ll have a heart attack and die. That could be helpful.
“Fast food isn’t agreeing with you,” I say and look around at everyone gathered.
No one new. It’s the same crowd as usual.
“I think I’ve found a way to get you to talk, Becky,” he says, ignoring me.
I shrug disinterestedly. “You need to shower, you’re getting zits.”
“We’re going to play a different game. You see, I forgot who you were. I thought fear and self-preservation would be the thing that got through to you, but that’s not the answer at all. I should have known Becky Dawson wouldn’t be afraid of monsters.”
My attention glues to him because this is never good. When Grant starts using his brain, he can be remarkably cunning.
“You humans are so weak. Your strength is your ability to think with a hive mind. It’s also your greatest weakness.”
He smiles, and his lips crack at the side, almost up to his ears.
I shudder and instinctively step back, but the hands holding me tighten and throw me forward. I land heavily on my hands and knees.
“Bring them out,” he says.
I sit back, twisting to look around. The illusion hiding them rips away, and I see just how extensive it’s been. There are more of them gathered here than I’ve seen before. Perhaps one hundred, maybe two. They seem content to sit back and allow Grant to lead.
I can’t understand it, but then I realise they’re afraid. Just how fucked up is Grant? I have a feeling I’m about to find out.
A creature from the Shadow world makes a snarling noise, and I hear the rattle of a chain. It’s strange, there are more from the Shadow world than the Fae one, but there are creatures here that don’t feel like anything I can identify.
I’ve seen them executing Fae and Shadow kin alike. This isn’t a revolt, it’s a newly minted dictator in the making.
The creature with the chain marches into view, and I stand up. Terror and outrage flooding my veins with the strength of everything I’m about to lose.
“What the fuck is this?” I throw my hands at the chain. A dozen children under the age of five blink up at me with huge, bruised eyes.
“This is how I get you to do what I want.”
