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First 3 Chapters of Blood of Hercules
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“Fides est periculosa ludum”—trust is a dangerous game.
She didn’t know who was
hunting her until it was too late.
2
“At this centuries turn,
all of Sparta applauds;
The Federation Falls,
to the Exposer of Gods.”
—Fates, 2050
3
1. The Great War
Softly it began.
TheillustriousstateofSparta—ahundredimmortalSpartansandCreatureswith
dark abilities—civilized islands, eons before humanity was born.
They called these isles: Greece.
Highly sophisticated, Sparta was an art and agricultural state ruled by an
oligarchic Federation. Its immortal citizens were content to live quiet, slow lives of
island luxury. They knew nothing of conflict, greed, or jealousy.
All was peaceful.
Then, humans arrived.
Humanity was in immediateaweoftheimmortalpeople,wholookedlikethem,
but were better in every way.
Thus, the citizens of Sparta learned about power.
They became humanities Gods.
Spartataughthumanityart,agriculture,andgovernance,andhumansworshiped
them.
A symbiotic relationship was born.
Centurieslater,SpartansandCreaturesmigratedwiththehumanstomodernday
Italy, still enjoying the wealth and status of godhood.
The Roman empire was born.
But the affairs of man were not to be taken lightly.
The mortal population exploded in size as conflict escalated between rival
humansfromtheNorth.Incontrast,Spartastruggledwithfertility—itsnumbersstayed
around one hundred.
4
Then, the power shifted.
Humans discovered that Spartans weren’t completely immune to death—they
could be chopped into tiny pieces and scattered, or starved and tortured into comas,
from which they never recovered.
Humans increasingly became more violent.
The Federation grew wary.
Then one day—humanity fully turned on their gods—Emperors declared war
against them. The new ageofhumanrulerswantedallthepower,prestige,andwealth
for themselves.
But humanity forgot, it was dealing with a race more intelligent than themselves.
Sparta disappeared.
Completely.
Spartans and Creatures migrated to Northern Italy, andwentintohidinginthe
Dolomites. Never to be seen or heard from again.
Before they left, they destroyed all the advancements they’d shared with
humans—the library of Alexandria burned.
Without Sparta’s guidance, Rome fell.
Asthecenturiespassed,thelivinggodswhosteeredhumanitytowardsgreatness
became nothing but myths.
Time trudged forward.
Protected by anonymity, advancing in the shadows, Spartans and Creatures
amassed unfathomable wealth creating superior technologies.
But Sparta wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed.
There were two divisive factions of Spartans:
5
Chthonic Houses.
Olympic Houses.
Each House was a separate family bloodlineofpower,namedafteritsfounding
leader—a Spartan more powerful than the rest.
The differences between the two groups became more prominent over the years.
All Spartans from olympic Houses had powers that enhanced themselves, e.g.,
makingthemselvesfasterandstronger.Theydidn’thurtothers,andinsteadfocusedon
self improvement and the sciences.
Olympics were also the most common Spartans.
There were fifty different Olympic Houses, with dozens of members.
Olympics kept their numbersstrongbyhavingchildrenwithhumans,andthese
half-humans, half-Spartans were called—Mutts.
Most of the Creatures of Sparta also sided with the olympics. They forged
alliances with them, in return for protection against theotherSpartans.
The chthonic Houses.
The Spartans with blood red eyes.
Chthonics had powers thatonlyhurt others, e.g.,torture, mind control, pain.
Only four chthonic families had ever lived, they called the—the Houses of
darkness.
Born at the dawn of Sparta, unlike the olympic Houses that rose and fell, they
remained the same. Always.
The infamous four:
The Houses of Hades, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Ares.
6
Eachonlyhadahandfulofmembers,sincetheyrarelyprocreatedwiththeweak
humans who couldn’t handle their powers.
A few Creatures, those with the darkest of abilities, sided with these chthonic
Houses.
Throughout history, the chthonic and olympic Spartans kept an uneasy truce.
Peace was maintained by the Federation, which was ruled by olympics.
But at the turn of the twenty-first century, the peace shattered.
The Great War started.
ThefourchthonicHousesattackedthefiftyolympicHousesinabidtooverthrow
the Federation and seize power over Sparta.
Whilechthonicswerevastlyoutnumbered—hundredsofolympicsfoughtagainst
twenty-four chthonics—because their abilities were so heinous and powerful, conflict
raged for decades.
The weaker olympic Houses fell firstaschthonicsmercilesslyhuntedthem,and
scattered their pieces across the globe.
In 2045, there were only eight of the strongest and oldest olympic families left
standing: the Houses of Zeus, Hera, Athena, Hermes, Poseidon, Demeter, Apollo,and
Dionysus.
The war was locked in a stalemate with numbers dwindling on all sides and
Sparta was at risk of collapse.
The four overpowered chthonic house leaders remained, but all twenty of their
chthonic children had been captured and chopped into pieces.
Ifthewarcontinued,therewouldbenothinglefttorule,sothetwosidessigneda
cease-fire.
7
Peace was re-established.
Barely.
A few years later in 2050, Titans—immortal monstrous creatures—inexplicably
appeared on earth and started slaughtering humans.
The Federation saw an opportunity to re-introduce themselves to humanity.
The gods rose again.
They also seized the chance to punish chthonics.
Asreparationsforthewaranditscrimes,theFederationruledthatallremaining
chthonics—and any sons they bore, as well as the dark Creatures who sided with
them—were in charge of handling earth's Titan problem.
They called this new organization: the Assembly of Death.
But that wasn’t all.
The chthonics and Creatures were also forced to hunt Titans, and each other
across the globe, in a disturbed broadcasted competition known as the Spartan
Gladiator Games.
The SGGs quickly became the most violent contest to ever gracethefaceofthe
earth.
It ushered in a new era of brutality.
Nearlyhalfacenturylater,Titansstillroamedtheearth,chthonicswerestarting
to rebuild their numbers, and olympics were increasingly bearing less powerful children.
Onceagain,theFederationstruggledtoretainitspower,andthetidesofHistory
pointed towards war.
Sparta was more fractured than ever.
8
To address the growing divide, the Federation enactedacontroversialmarriage
law.
Chthonics immediately sought to undermine it.
That is where our story begins.
9
2. Monster Friends
Year 2090
“Who are you?” a female voice whispered in my ear.
I sat up with a start and blinked groggily.
Grasses and pink summer flowers rustled as a warm breeze blew through the
emerald field I was napping in.
Rural Montana was a quiet, eerie place—located two-hundred miles North of
Helena’s city lights—we might as well have been in a different world.
The power grid barely sustained our crumbling town.
Patched metal glintedthroughthetreeline.Thedecrepittrailerparkwasbarely
standing.
Butthenagain,byanystandardofcivilization,mosteverythingintheworldwas
in ruin.
Themonstershadarrivedintheyear2050andtheworldhadcrumbled.Kidsat
school called it apocalyptic core.
I called it hell.
Humanities harbingers of doom—Titans—were brutally efficient.
No one knew where the humanesque immortals with razor sharp teeth, long
claws,andsuper-speed,camefrom.Allweknewwasthattheyhadblackveins,mutated
features, and one unique personality quirk: they tore humans apart for fun.
It was theirthing.
Which was unfortunate, if you wanted to live (I didn’t, maybe, I had yet to
decide).
Father John said the Titans appeared to “teach humanity a lesson.”
10
Since humans didn’t do anything but perish dramatically and gruesomely . . .
strange lesson. But then again, these were strange times.
Attheendoftheday,itwasthegodlikebeingswhoemergedandsavedhumanity
(unfortunately).
The gods of this new age: Spartans.
Powerful, disturbingly attractive people with abilities, Spartans came into
immortality at the age of twenty, and emerged from hiding just in time to rescue us all.
When the Spartans revealed themselves to humans, dozens of Creatures, other
immortal races with powers, also stepped forward.
Imissedthetimewhenhumansweretheonlymonsters;Iwasmelancholicfora
world I’d never even known.
“Can you hear me?” the unknown voice asked louder.
I whipped my head around and searched forthespeaker,groaningasthequick
movement made my wrists throb.
There was nothing in the field. The only thing presentwastheunbearablepain
radiating through my limbs.
Think positive thoughts. What would Emmy Noether do?
Sadly, I was not sure what my hero—the female mathematicianwidelycredited
with creating abstract algebra—would do in my situation.
Fosterfatherandmotherweremakingtheir“specialdrink”intheirbathtubagain
to deal with hunger—a combination of cleaning supplies, water, and the moldy bread
yeast they handed out for free at the food bank—and their behavior had become
increasingly erratic.
Starvation (and poison) turned humans into beasts.
11
Point in case, last week I’d looked “wrongly”atfather,sohe’dactedcompletely
rationally and tied me up with rough rope, then he’d left me outside for days.
Punishment for being a “lazy, good for nothing, spoiled ten year old bitch.”
Are adults okay?
Is anyone okay these days?
I groaned aloud with misery.
The harsh rope had left raised red welts across both of my aching wrists.
This morning I’d gotten tired of being chained like a dog,andhadhitmyarms
down against a rock while pulling until I’d gotten free.
Both wrists were definitely fractured.
At least you’ve escaped.
The good news: father was sostupid,heprobablywouldn’tevenrememberthat
he’d tied me up.
The bad news: he needed medication (death), but he couldn’t afford it.
He should probably get on a waiting list for fancySpartanFederationdrugs,or
someone should take care of his mental health the common humanfolkway—hithim
over the head with a shovel (that’s what they did to neighborPaul,theywhackedhim
when he wasn’t looking).
Mental health resources wereexpensiveandhardtocomebyinthesedesperate
times, but shovels, they were accessible.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one who needed a whack.
Foster mother was no better, and I had suspicions that she was the devil
incarnate.
Which was a real shame.
12
For me.
“You can, can’t you . . . what—are you?” the voicesaid next to my ear.
I squinted as I looked around, but nothing was out of place. There was no one
else in the meadow.
I was all alone.
Barbed wire fence glinted off of the distant treeline that surrounded the trailer
park and a tattered white flag hung off a branch displaying the crest of the House of
Hades—a horrifying skeleton dog with burning crimson eyes.
It was a hellhound.
Belowtheflagasignwarnedinbloodredletters,SpartanFederationMilitarized
Protected Zone, Titans Beware.
I glared with disgust at the grotesque skeletal beast.
It glared back.
The symbol of the House of Hades was thecreepiestofSpartaninsignia,butin
truth, I hatedallthe Houses.
They just hadtostepinand“saveus”(doomedusalltolivinginstarvationand
constant fear).
They should have just let the Titans kill us, it would have been more humane.
Instead,Spartansprovided“guidance”toallvestigesofhumangovernmentsthat
had barely survived the Titan attacks.
Aka, Spartans ruled the earth.
TwelveSpartanfamilies,dozensofdangerousCreatures,andonestateofSparta,
led by the Federation.
Eight olympic Houses.
13
Four chthonic Houses.
The olympic Houses were the good guys, inthesensethatsomemonsterswere
kinder than others. Allegedly.
The chthonic Spartans were pure evil.
Point in case—a film of blood covered the whites of their eyes when they used
their powers—and sometimes, it glowed.
The bright eyes of the devil.
Ifyouwereunluckyenoughtohappenupononeofthem,youshotthemonsight,
then prayed to god to have mercy on your doomed soul.
Cthonics were mass murderers, everyoneknewthatthey’dattackedolympicsin
the infamous Great War. It was widely taught in schools.
A coup-d'etat, just monsters doing monstrous things.
Just Spartans chopping each other up into tiny pieces.
Istaredupatthesunandlaughedweakly,theentireprocesswashilariousifyou
thought about it. That is, if you found gruesome dismemberment humorous.
I did (pain was making me lose my mind).
Breathing roughly through my teeth, I tried to focus on anything but the
throbbing pain radiating up my forearms.
It didn’t work.
The hellhound whipped back and forth faster as my will to live steadily declined.
The age of gods and monsters sucks.
The Assembly of Death ruled and their symbols(creepyhellhoundflagsthatno
oneaskedfor)werestrungacrosstheprotectedzones,awarningtoTitansandhumans
alike that even amongst monstrosities, there were Goliaths.
14
Earth was crawling with savages.
Yay.
Not.
The worst beasts of all—starving middle-aged humans with receding hairlines,
vulgar vocabularies, and a penchant for drinking bleach to cope.
Who can really blame them?
I could.
A wave of dizziness hit.
Ilaiddowninthelushgrass,gingerlysupportingmyruinedwristsasaprickling
sensationburnedthebackofmyneck,likeIwasbeingwatched.Iignoreditandfocused
on calming my racing heart.
Sleep would be nice.
So would death.
For now, I’d settle for re-reading the public library's autobiography of Emmy
Noether for the hundredth time.
Who didn’t love abstract algebra?
I hadn’t yet progressed to studying it, but reading about the theory was like a
gentle hug.
At least, I assumed that's what an embrace would feel like.
I’d never been hugged.
Not yet.
I’m sure it would happen for me one day. Or maybe not, considering that I
loathedbeing touched.
It was probably for the best.
15
“You smell familiar,” the bizarre voice whispered louder. “I wonder . ..what’s
your name, kid?”
Isatupwithagaspandsniffedmyarmpit,butI'dusedthecoldgardenhosethis
morning so all I smelled was sun and grass.
“Who’sth-there?”Ilookedaroundwarily,thenhummedinthebackofmythroat,
a self-soothing action I always did in times of stress.
Silence.
Are they waiting for me to give my name?
“I’mA-AlexisH-Hert,”Isaidtentatively,wishingIdidn’tstuttersomuchwhenI
got nervous. The raised scar on my sternum prickled, the one I’d had since I was a baby.
“You can understand me, human? You can speak to me?”Thevoicewaslouder
and I jumped. “Also, what astrangelast name.”
Great, just like everyone at school, even an invisible voice bullies me.
“Yeah?” Iasked,cradlingmythrobbinghands.“Whoareyou...whycan’tIsee
you?”
“MynameisNyx,andI’minvisible,”thevoicesaid.“Whyisyournamesoidiotic,
girl? It sounds like a made-up name.”
I looked around wildly, but didn’t see anything.
“The state shortened the weird label on the baby clothesthatIwasfoundin,”I
answered the voice named Nyx. “Also p-people aren’t invisible—”
“Humans are so close minded, plenty of creatures are invisible, you idiotic
youth,” Nyx hissed. “Open up your mind.”
My mind is open.
To death, and advanced mathematical theories.
16
Sweaty gold curls stuck to my neck as I looked around warily. “I’m n-not an
idiot.”
PeoplealwaysassumedIwasstupidbecauseofmystutter.Ihatedit.ItwaswhyI
kept to myself and tried not to talk as much as possible.
“Yes, you are,” Nyx said immediately like she knew me.
I frowned and raised my voice. “I’m advanced for my age—I’m going to be a
m-mathematician like Emmy Noether and Carl Gauss . . . or maybeadoctor,soIcan
help people.”
Nyx made a chuffing noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
If Emmy was my hero, then Carl was my secret crush.
What can I say, I found a brilliant eighteenth century German
scholar—nicknamed the literalPrinceof mathematicians—sexy.Arrest me.
They didn’t arrest people anymore, since the only crime prosecuted was murder.
I’d read about it though.
A citizen's arrest would be cool—randomly attacking someone because you saw
them doing something wrong.
I giggled as I tried to imagine it.
“A doctor? That’s lame,” Nyx said snootily, and a part of me agreed.
Ishouldhave wanted to be a doctor, since they werethe good guys—but I didn’t.
I wanted to solve math equations by myself in a darkly lit room with classical
music playing on a radio, and an endless supply of food stocked in my desk.
That was the dream.
I sighed.
It wasn’t good to have dreams these days.
17
“Howoldareyou,twelveyearsold?”Nyxasked.“It’ssohardtotellwithhumans,
you all die so quickly. It’ssoawkward.”
“Ten,” I whispered.
I was tall for my age and was already in tenth grade with fifteen-year-olds. I
wantedtowarnthevoicethatI’dalreadybeguntomastercalculus,butitwastoomany
words and I didn’t want to get laughed at for stuttering.
“You’re very young,” Nyx said. “Why are your wrists bloody?”
The air left my lungs.
Ideflatedandduckedmyheadsocurlscoveredmyface.“Myfosterp-parentsare
trying to kill me.”
A fresh cigarette mark stung my stomach. Burns were my least favorite
punishment because they always hurt worse the next day.
“What do you mean?” Nyx hissed like I’d said something confusing.
I gently picked a flower–wincing as the movement hurt. “They say I stutter to
mock them. Also, they’re starving and bemoan that they have to feed me too.”
Nyx scoffed, “It doesn’t look like they feed you at all.”
A petal crumpled.
It blew away in the wind.
“Sometimes they do,” I whispered. “But at this r-rate, I won’t live to take the
Spartan merit test.
Every nineteen-year-old in the world took the Spartan test to determineifthey
couldattendoneofthethreeSpartan-runhigher-educationuniversitiesthatwereleftin
theworld.Naturally,acingthetestandbecomingafamousreclusivemathematicianwas
my dream—one I’d most likely never experience.
18
A lone cicada screamed.
“Kid, do you really think your kin will kill you?” Nyx’s voice had a strange
inflection.
“We’re not related,” I corrected. “And yes.”
“Ihatehumans,” Nyx said.
I frowned. “That's not nice.”
“You’re a strange human,” Nyx’s voice sounded closer, like she was extremely
close. “Youspeakofdeath—butyoudon’tsmelloffear—thereissomethingwrongwith
you.”
I looked around but the field was still empty.
“There probably is.”
Nyx hissed. “Your attitude is unsettling.”
I shrugged.
All that mattered in life was numbers and music. People were equations that
didn’t add up—they simply didn’t make sense.
“I’ve met immortal Spartans who’ve feared death more than you do,” Nyx
sounded offended.
Goosebumps pebbled my skin as I thought about the Spartans who walked the
same earth I was sitting on, untouchable, strong, psychotic.
Yet, I was helpless against my parents and starving. How different our lives were.
Well, at least the the psychosis was a universal experience.
Dark times and all.
“Are you just in my head?” I blurted.
“No,” Nyx said.
19
“Liar.” My stomach rumbled loudly so I gingerly picked a piece of grass and
chewed on the end, pretending it was food. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.
Hunger was making me delusional.
It did that a lot to people in the trailer park.
“Of course you don’t believe me—you’re a stupid human child,” Nyx said with
annoyance.
“Sure,” I harrumphed.
“Idoexist.”
I chewed harder on the grass. “And th-the chthonic Houses aren’t evil,” I said
sarcastically.
Nyx made another strange clicking noise. “You speak of matters you don’t
understand, idiot child.”
I looked up at the bright sun. “I know evil when I see it.”
“Doyoureally...ordoyoujustthinkthatyoudo?Ibetyou’dhavenoideaifyou
were around it for real.”
“No, Iknowit,” I said, eyes burning as I stareddirectly into the glow.
“I can prove that I exist,” Nyx said.
The sun was suddenly obstructed by a dark object—it hovered inches from my
face.
Light slowly focused.
The grass dropped from my mouth.
Splitpupilswerestarkagainstneonpurpleandaslipperyforkedtonguedragged
across my cheek.
“I told youI was real,” Nyx hissed.
20
A . . . a . . . colossal snake—as long as one of mylegs,withtwinfangsgleaning
razor sharp and purple eyes—hovered inches in the air in front of me.
She looked dangerous.
Predatory.
“What are you?” I whispered.
Her black shinyheadswayedbackandforthonthesummerbreezelikeshewas
tryingtohypnotizeme.“I’manechidna,anancientraceofinvisiblesnakecreatures.Of
course you wouldn’t know—humans know nothing of the ways of beasts.”
I swallowed thickly. “Are you venomous?”
Razorsharpfangsflashedasthesnakeheadnoddedupanddown.“Extremelyso.
Just a graze from one of my fangs would kill you in seconds.
I forgot how to breathe.
“Wicked,” I said with awe. “Want to be friends?”Excitementbubbled,I’dnever
had such a dangerous friend before.
Purple eyes glowed.
Black scales glimmered in the sun like a shadow come to life.
“Fine,” Nyx hissed her jaw opening as she spoke, “but only because your life
seems miserable, and I’ve been misplaced in this barbaric land with no one to speak to.”
“Cool,” I whispered as I reached out and pattedherhead,theshinyscaleswere
warm. I shivered at the unique smooth texture.
Nyx snapped the air with a click. “Never touch me like that or I’ll bite you to
death girl—I’m not a common dog.” She sniffed haughtily. “This is only a temporary
arrangement.”
We were definitely going to be best friends.
21
“Sounds good.” I got to my feet. “Want to race?”
“No, I do not want torace? Why would you even asksuch a—”
“Losers finish last!” I called over my shoulder as I sprinted through the field
humming. Talking to her felt easier now that I knew she was an animal.
She was safe.
Not like other people.
Pretending to run away and live withtheforestanimalsaloneinthemountains
was my favorite game.
Nyxraiseduptoanimpressiveheightandhissedloudly,“I’mgoingtocatchyou
andeat youkid.” She flung herself forward in a violentflash of fangs.
I laughed as I ran faster.
Hourslater,afterfrolickingaboutalldayandtryingtoignorethethrobbingache
in my wrists, the sun set in a fiery pink sky. If I didn't get back to the trailer before
nightfall I’d be locked out and forced to sleep in the dark.
Ihatedthe woods at night.
Every tiny noise sounded like a Titan.
After days tied up in the dark, I was determined to sleep inside tonight.
“Let’s go back together,” I whispered and Nyx mumbled in disagreement, but
turned invisible and slithered next to me. Her head brushed against my feet as I ran.
We made it back with pink still in the sky—not that anyone noticed.
Mother and father were sitting in the yard, emaciated and glassy eyed as they
sipped on dirty cups full of their “special drink.”
They were unaware that I was leading an invisible creature into the trailer.
From their expression, I’d be surprised if they even remembered I existed.
22
Their pupils were blown wide, heads tipped backatanunnaturalangle,asthey
stared up at the clouds.
There was nothing worse than someone who was alive, but not present.
Living corpses.
I hummed to soothe myself.
“Theylook—sick.”Nyx’swettongueslickedacrossmyearassheraisedupbehind
me and followed me into the trailer. “Do you want me to kill them? My bite is
poisonous.”
“No,” I whispered as I led her down the hall. “That’s wrong.”
The lamp on the wall flickered weaklywithgreenlight,theelectricityhumming
asitstruggledtopowerthedecrepittrailer—amixofmetalandwoodpartsfromatime
before the titans.
Thesingularfanthatpointedatthefosterparentsbeddidnothingtocooltherest
of the space, and the muggy summer heat was oppressive.
MaybemylifewouldhavebeendifferentifI’dbeenbornbefore2050toparents
who actually wanted me, but I wasn’t.
The year was 2086 and power ruled.
I had none.
Nyx clicked her fangs. “Fine—but someday kid, I’ll kill them for you.”
Ihuffed.“Youcan’t,killingisasin.It’smorallytheworstthingyoucaneverdo.
Your soul will be corrupted. Father John says so.”
“Father John sounds like a stupid idiot—you’re too young to know what you
speak of,” Nyx said. “When you’re older, you’ll think differently.”
Well, she’s definitely going to hell for saying that.
23
Can snakes even go to hell?
Wait—didn’t Father John say snakes are evil . . . am I going to hell for
befriending her?
I sighed.
Eternal damnation it was.
Itrippedovertheclutterthatfilledthetrailer,moaningasmywristsclippedthe
rusted old fridge.
“I willneverkill someone,” I promised, chest burningwith sincerity.
Nyx hissed in disagreement.
Memories clawed at me.
Unseeing eyes; cigarettes against skin; garbledspeechthatdidn’tmakesense;
punishingfists;sleeplessnightscurledupinpainandfeartetheredtoarope;sobbing
and pleading; starvation; terror.
Gingerly, I settled into the cardboard box that functioned as my bed. It was
hidden in the corner behind piles of old junk and it gave me privacy.
It was my favorite spot in the trailer.
Ismoothedmyfingersoverthesmallwhitefabricatthebottom.Itwastheonesie
I’d been wearing when the orphanage found me as a baby—theonlypossessioninthe
world that was mine.
Myfingerstrailedacrosstheeightletterwordengravedingoldacrossthefront.It
wastoostrangetobeaname,soitmusthavebeenadesignerlabel,butsomethingabout
it called to me.
There was a strange gliding sensation as Nyx repositioned her heavy weight
across my lap and I released the fabric.
24
Her head tucked against my chin and I carefully laid my fingers against her.
“Can you talk to all people?” I whispered to Nyx as I got comfortable.
“Nokid—”Nyxsaidsoftly“—it’sunusualthatyoucanhearme.Icanonlytalkto
my own kind, and there aren’t a lot of us.”
I whispered, “Is it because there’s something wrong with me?”
Nyxhuffed.“It’sprobablybecauseallhumansareweird,creaturesdon’tinteract
with humans for a reason—strange things tend to happen.”
“Well, I think it's nice,” I mumbled with sleepiness. “Now you can’t leave me
because we can talk—I’ve always wanted a blanket. . . just no killing . . . promise?”
“Idon’tmakeasinineSpartanoaths.Enoughchatter,weirdhumangirlchildwho
can talk to me,” Nyx hissed. “We sleep.”
OnlylaterwouldIrealizethatmystutterdisappearedcompletelywhenItalkedto
her.
Animals didn’t scare me.
People did.
That was how a thirty-pound invisible creature became my closest companion.
Yes, I befriended the first monster I ever met.
No, it wasn’t the craziest thing to happen that day.
Bang bang.
I jolted awake.
There was a loud banging noise at the front of the trailer.
Mother and father swore loudly as they staggered out of bed towards the
obnoxious repetitive sound.
25
I peeked out ofthecornerofmybox.Nyxmumbledagainstmeandshifted,but
didn’t wake.
Ashortelderlywomanwithpurewhitehairandshockingpurpleeyesstoodatthe
door.
Her expression was grave.
A skinny figure in a hood stood hunched low beside her.
“What the fuck is the meaning of all this?” Motheraskedasshestareddownat
the intruder, much more sober than earlier. “We ain't selling our drink door
front—you’ll have to just wait till Monday andgetitinthewoodslikeeveryoneelsein
the park.”
Beside mother, father opened his mouth, and slurred out illegible sounds. He
wobbled like he could barely stand.
“Thankyou—averygenerousoffer,”theelderlywomansaid,hertoneinsinuating
it was anything but.
She cleared her throat.
“I’m actually here because the United States Government, led by the Spartan
Federation, has allotted you responsible for a second foster child. Monthly food
vouchers will be sent accordingly to cover his expenses. His name is Charlie.”
That’sstrange,I’veneverheardoffosterkidsbeingdeliveredtodoors.Ithought
theystayedattheorphanageandpeoplepickedthemup?That’swhathappenedwith
me.
Before anyone couldreacttheelderlywoman—withsurprisingstrength—shoved
Charlie up the steps into the trailer, then slammed the door shut.
26
Motherscoffedatthechild.“They’llbehearingfromus,thisisfuckingridiculous.
We can’t even feed theotherfucking thing.”
Nice, I’m an object now.
A thing.
Father stumbled over to the ratty couch, collapsed on it faceforward, and snored.
Mother ignored him (I don’t knowhow—hesnoredlouderthananavalanche,it
was highly concerning).
ShegrabbedCharliebythescrawnyarmanddraggedhimtowardmycardboard
box. I closed my eyes tight and pretended to sleep.
“Boy, you can sleep next to . . . Alex—there’s enough room.”
Fromthelongpause,she’dstruggledtoremembermyname.I’dbeenlivingwith
her for almost ten years.
Mother stomped away loudly, broken springs creaked as she got into her bed,
then her snores also echoed loudly.
I squinted through my lashes.
Charlie was kneeling in front of me.
I gasped.
His eyes were an unnatural shade of yellow.
He had impossibly high pale cheekbones. Greasy blonde hair hung around his
face.Thereweredarkcirclesunderhiseyes,andhisfacewashollow,justlikeeveryone
else's in the trailer park.
“I’mA-Alexis,”Iwhisperedcautiously,holdingoutmyhand.Myfingerstrembled
as I waited to see what he would do.
Is he going to mock my stutter?
27
He stared at my hand, but didn’t take it.
If his eyes weren’t open, I would havestruggledtobelievehewasalive.Hewas
unnaturally still.
I put my hand down and shifted so there was room in the cardboard box. We
were both small, we could fit.
Discreetly, I shifted Nyx to my other side so he wouldn’t touch her.
“I’m ten,” I offered softly. “Are you—also ten?”
Charlie shook his head no, then gingerly lowered himself into the space beside
me. He still didn’t speak.
“Are you younger?” I asked.
He nodded, yes. As we sat next to each other in the dark.
“Nine?”
He nodded again.
“So I guess—you’re my younger brother now,” I said.
His yelloweyeswidened,theshadewassobrightthattheyalmostglowedinthe
dark.
He swallowed thickly.
“I’ll be a good sister,” I promised him quickly. “I know all about the foster
parents, just follow my lead and you’ll be okay. I’ll protect you.”
“You—don’t have to,” he whispered softly.
I nudged him with my elbow.“IknowIdon’thaveto—butIwantto.Ipromise,
I’ll take care of you.”
His eyes got impossibly wide and he stared at me.
“What is it?” I asked with concern.
28
He shook his head, like it was nothing, but a small smile curved his lips.
WarmthunfurledinmychestandIsmiledback,forthefirsttimealltheday,the
throbbing in my wrists was completely forgotten.
I’d started the day with zero friends.
Now, I had two.
Things were looking up.
29
3. The Monster
Year 2091
Things were looking down.
Wind howled outside as snow dumped flakes furiously.
The February storm cast everything in shadows. The green light in the corner
flickered weakly, barely sustained by the small amounts of electricity allotted to the
trailer.
It was the dead of night, which was why Nyx wasoutsidehunting.Shesaidthe
dark made it easier to kill.
I took her word for it.
“We need to act now,” mother whispered to father in the trailer kitchen.
What are they talking about? My stomach twisted as a badfeelingscouredmy
chest.
They thought they were the only ones still up.
Charlie was asleep beside me.
I was wide awake.
Charliehadbeenwithussincethesummer,andhewasalreadythebestbrotherI
could ever have asked for.
Hewasquietandshy,butIdidn’tmindsincehehungoutwithmeeverydayand
letmehelphimwithhismathhomework.Henevermadefunofmystutterorcalledme
stupid.
Actually, hehadn’tspokenawordmorethanthesinglesentencehe’dsaidwhen
we first met. But I didn’t mind.
For the first time ever, I wasn’t lonely.
30
Eleven years old was going to be my best year yet.
Mother whispered something inaudible and her tone was dark.
The only problem was—things werenotgreat with thefoster parents.
Therewerelessprovisionsthaneveratthelocalfoodbank.Halfthefoodstamps
theyreceivedforCharlieandI,weren'tredeemablesincetherewasnomeatanddairyto
be had in the winter.
We were all starving.
Even worse than usual.
The icy conditions also meant fewerneighborslefttheirtrailertobuythefoster
parents “Special Drink.”
Mother spoke softly and I strained to listen.
“We need to,” she whispered. “Get rid of—Charlie. No one will know.” Father
grunted in agreement.
I froze with fear.
No.
They can’t.
But they could.
Wehadn’thadschoolinweeksbecausetheroadsweretooicytodriveon,which
was probably why they were making plans now.
A few kind teachers gave us their scraps of food. It was what kept us alive.
They leaned closer and made a plan.
Out here in Northern rural Montana, in the middle of winter, you could do
anythingto anyone, and no one would know until Spring.
Gently, I shook Charlie awake.
31
Bright yellow eyes stared up at me with confusion. He shivered, condensation
from our breath lingered in the air. His pale skin was almost translucent.
“Go hide in the bathroom—now,” I mouthed silently. “Lock the door.”
Charlie’s eyes widened with horror as he took in my tense expression.
“Whatever you hear, donotleavethebathroom,”Iwhisperedquickly.“Ifthings
get...serious—andthere’snootheroption,onlythendoyouusethephoneandcallthe
first responders. Dial 777. ”
The phone was attached to the bathroom wall in a glass case labeled, “For
Emergency Use Only.” Every house was mandated to have one in case of a Titan attack.
Mother had installed ours in the bathroom because she said she didn’twantto
“see the ugly fucking thing every day.”
She also said the same thing about me.
Charlie’s breath caught as he realized what I was saying.
Thephonelineconnectedtolocalfirstresponders,buttheydealtwithcrisesafter
they unfolded.
The Titans were the only threat that warranted immediate intervention, for
everything else, everyone was on their own.
Afterall, there were only ten chthonic Spartans in existence, and only five were
currently qualified to hunt downdozensof monstrousTitans.
The Assembly of Death was short staffed.
Since the GreatWar,onlyfivechthonicchildrenhadbeenborn.Everyoneknew
who they were.
Augustus, Kharon, Patro, Achilles, and Helen.
Technically, there was another child—Medusa—but she’d disappeared.
32
There were also a handful of Creatures, who fought for theAssemblyalongside
the chthonic leaders. The most famous Creature was Erebus, who was nicknamed the
Primordial God of Darkness.
Not a name that inspires comfort.
But Creatures rarely had children—since half-human Mutt Creatures were
extremely rare.
Also since chthonics didn’t join the Assembly until immortality at twenty years
old, there was only one chthonic male Heir—full bloodedchthonic—whowasofageto
fight with the leaders.
Augustus, Heir to the House of Ares.
He was the 23 year old son of Ares and Aphrodite.
The next child to come of age would be, Kharon the 18yearoldsonofArtemis
and Erebus.
Augustus’s half-sister Helen, wasalsotheeightyearoldHeiressoftheHouseof
Aphrodite.
Not much else was known about them because Heirs and Heiresses were
infamous for being reclusive.
They were modern day Spartan elites, more important and powerful than any
human royal could ever have dreamed to be.
The last of thechthonicchildrenweretworarehalf-humanscalledMutts:Patro
and Achilles.
PatrooftheHouseofAphroditewasthirteenyearsold,andAchillesoftheHouse
of Ares was fourteen.
33
TheywerethefutureoftheAssemblyofDeath,butuntiltheycameofage,there
were barely enough monsters to fight Titans.
Humanity was still in grave danger.
The Federation kept civilization running, but everything that wasn’t anecessity
fell through the cracks.
Charlie and I werebelowthe cracks.
We were rolling in the dirt.
“Go—now,”IwhisperedtoCharlie,thenleanedforwardandgavehimabighug.
“It’s going to be okay.”
Both of us were shaking as we embraced.
WhenIpulledaway,Charlienoddedandcrawledsilentlyintothebathroomnext
to where we slept.
Emmy and Carl were pioneers oftheirtime.Theyfoughtandbecametitansof
mathematics. Emmy dealt with evil in her time and stayed strong.
Be like her Alexis.
I wanted to pretend I hadn’t heard mother, but I had.
I can’t do this.
There were two of them and one of me. I was tall for my age, butnotthattall.
They were still much bigger than me.
Yes you can.
I took a shaky breath and stood up.
Wrists tweaking with phantom pain, Irubbedatthehairtieswhichcoveredthe
raised skin of old scars.
There would be consequences if I acted—there always were in hell.
34
You need a plan.
Slowly, I walked out into the kitchen where they were standing sipping their
drinks, and I spread my legs wide.
I had no plan.
“Ifyout-tryandh-hurtCharlie,you’llhavetog-gothroughm-me,”Iannounced.
“I’ll tell e-everyone what y-you tried to do, and they’ll l-lock y-you up f-forever.”
No matter how much I concentrated, my stutter was alwaysatitsworstwhenI
spoke to them—Charlie and Nyx were the only ones it completely disappeared around.
As if in slow motion, they turned towards me.
Their eyes were wide and unfocused, black pupils fully covered their irises.
Liquid clung to their lips.
Shadows covered the emaciated planes of their wrinkled faces.
“What thefuck, did you just say to us girl?” Fatherasked slowly.
Mothersmiled,flashingrottinggumsandthreeteeth,shethrewdownherempty
glass. It shattered loudly across the cracked tile floor.
I jumped and swallowed a scream.
“How about we just kill you both?” Mother laughed. “We’ve got nothing to
lose—we’re fucking starving to death anyways.”
Sweat streaked down the side of my face, then froze in the frigid temperatures.
Every bone in my body wanted to turn and run.
I held my ground, turning frantically for aweapon—Igrabbedthebustedmetal
toaster off the counter, and chucked it at them.
Father groaned as it hit him and he stumbled back.
There was a shocked moment of silence.
35
Bad plan.
He kicked it aside.
“How . . . fucking dare you?” mother demanded. Then they charged atmeina
blur of screams and fists.
Faraway, glass shards bitintomysolesasmothershookmyshouldersbackand
forth while screaming obscenities. Her breath reeked of chemicals.
I felt father slam his fist into my left eye, but I didn’tfeelanything.
Time distorted.
After a lifetime of pain, the brain learns how to suffer. I knew how to stay
conscious through a beating. I’d had years to perfect my technique.
The key was tensing your core and buttocks.
Humming.
And nihilism.
Also role playing as a tortured nineteenth century musical prodigy in the
imaginary throes of writing a violent opera helped.
Allegedly.
I dodged and Mother clipped my left ear with a punch. “You lazy, ungrateful
whore,threateningusaftereverythingwe’vefuckingdoneforfuckingyou...”Aloud
ringing sensation cut-off her words (a shame, she was making some intriguing points).
I staggered and turned.
Another punch caught the left side of my head.
The kitchen was narrow and father took a step back as mother took over.
Inmyscrambletoavoidtheviolence,herfisthitthesamespot—everythingwent
blurry and I couldn’t hear or see.
36
Classical music (delusion) filled the darkness.
Dimlightfilteredthroughmyabusedcorneas—halfthefieldofvisionwasblack,
and in the other half—I clawed blindly at mother’s face and neck with bloody nails.
I clutched at her shirt.
She screamed something I couldn’t hear.
Her fist caught my mouthandmybloodsprayedacrossmother’sscratchedface
as I held on for dear life, desperate to stop them from getting to Charlie.
Just keep them occupied, they’ll get tired, then go for an opening.
“Letmein,Alexis—letmeinNOW!”Nyx’svoicehiss-screamedfromoutside,she
must have returned from her hunt and heard to commotion.
She can help me protect Charlie.
Ilungedforthedoortoletherin,butfatherlungedwithme.Hedraggedmeback
into the kitchen (hell) and threw me back towards mother.
Her punishing blow caughtthesideofmyhead—everythingburned.Iclawedat
her as she grappled.
“Kid, let me in right now!”The trailer rocked asNyx slammed against it.
Her fist once again caught my left eye and lights exploded. Black ringed my
vision.
Blood was everywhere.
Shescreamedinmyface—Iscreamedback.Ohlook,we’reharmonizing.Mozart
would have loved this.
Another blow slammed against the side of my head andmyfingersloosenedas
everything spun faster.
Stay focused, you’re losing it Alexis. Concentrate.
37
Panic welled, sharp and hot, like I’d been stabbed straight through the heart.
Charlie’s in danger, don’t you dare pass out.
CRASH!
The world exploded—the window next to us shatteredinto a million pieces.
Glass rained in a crescendo.
I staggered backwards, slipping on blood and glass as I struggled to catch my
bearings.
Shards were everywhere.
The trailer was painted in streaks of red because something had come through
the window from the outside.
Father pointed at me, then he was pointing at the mother and they were
screaming at each other—I pointed at the sink and screamed.
They shrieked and jumped back, pushing at each other to get away from the
imaginary sink monster. Their pushing turned into shoving, then a fist was thrown.
They fought each other.
That diversion was more successful than anticipated.
Chest pain randomly skewered my sternum.
Great, I’m having a heart attack at fourteen. Any other day, andIwouldhave
welcomed a cardiac embolism with open arms. But not now. Not when Charlie was
depending on me.
Mother grabbed aknifeoffthebutcherblockandswungitwildlyandsheyelled
somethinggarbledaboutareddevil.Herexpressionwascompletelyunfocused,likeshe
was somewhere else entirely.
She’s lost it completely.
38
Her mind was poisoned.
ItrippedoversomethingsolidonthefloorasIdodgedherswings,andlandedon
my butt.
Father screamed something as he pointed at me, but the ringing in my ears
drowned it out.
Mother swung widely and he turned towards her.
ShardsbitintomypalmsasafrozenobjectslappedagainstmylegandIstilledin
horror—I lunged forward and groped the space, grabbing onto an invisible body.
“I will protect you,” Nyx hissed.
Nyx had thrown herself through the windowtosaveme.ShewasthereasonI’d
gotten away.
Thepanicinmychesttripled.No,shecan’tgethurt.Igropedblindlyatmybest
(and only) friend, wrangling her icy scales with every ounce of strength I had.
“Staybesideme,”Iwhispereddesperately.“WeneedtoprotectCharlie.Notme.”
I gasped.
She hissed.
I hummed a frantic tune inside my head.
Steel glinted as a knife was swung.
Evolutionists were wrong, humans didn’t evolve from primates—we devolved
from them.
With my hands tangled around Nyx’s icy scales, I dragged us both backwards
across the floor.
Grabbing at thebathroomhandleforpurchaseIstartedtohaulusup—thedoor
opened and we fell inside.
39
He left the door unlocked for me.He was supposed to lock it.
I locked it behind me quickly.
Inside the cramped space, Charlie was curled up in a ball in the corner.
Hisemaciatedbodywaswedgedbetweenthetoiletandthewall.Overlylargetear
stainedeyeslookedatmewithhorror,thenheshookharderandduckedhisheadlikehe
was trying to hide.
Nyxyankedinmyhands.“Releaseme,”shehissed.“I needtokillthosebastards
for hurting you.”
Charlie didn’t react and I wasn’t surprised, I’d long agoacceptedthatIwasthe
only one who could hear Nyx.
Everyone just assumed I was a loser who talked to herself.
The loser part was still up for debate (it wasn’t, I authoredEmmyNoetherand
Carl Gauss fanfiction in my free time).
Igaspedshakilyasthepaininmysternumintensified.“Let’sprotectCharliefrom
here—let them hurt each other first.”
The symphony played faster.
She slithered up my body and wrapped herself loosely around my neck and
shoulders like an invisible scarf.
Charlie sobbed harder in the corner.
I would have cried too, but I was too amped up on adrenaline.
Also, I was dead inside.
So there was that.
Heaving for breath, Istaggeredovertothetoiletandtookofftheheavyceramic
top. Repositioning beside the door, I raised my makeshift weapon and closed my eyes.
40
When they walked through, I’d bludgeon them and Nyx would bite them.
NoonewillhurtCharlie.Noonewilltakehimfromme.Ever.He’ssafe.I’llkeep
him safe.
Pain stabbed my chest.
A panic attack had never felt so sharp.
G sharp at a crescendo.
With labored breaths, I forced my shaking arms to stay raised while Charlie
rocked back and forth in misery.
For him, I can do anything.
Wemightnotberelated,butasFatherJohnpreached—“thebloodofacovenant
is thicker than the water of any womb.”
Dayandnight,CharlieandIsurvivedinthishellishtrailertogether.Weshareda
cardboard bed. Westarvedtogether.BesidesNyx,hewastheonlypersonthatIhadin
my life.
“What’s your plan?” Nyx asked, her invisible tongue brushed against my cheek.
“If they enter,” I said, cracking my neck. “We kill them.”
Cymbals crashed inside my head.
Agony skewered my sternum.
Charlie sobbed louder.
Alotwas happening.
“Great plan,” Nyx hissed.
The foster parents had won, they’d made a murderer out of me.
41
On theothersideofthedoor,motherletoutanunholyscreamandthehairson
the back of my neck stood up. The sound was soheinousthatmypanicquadrupled.I
gasped with dizziness.
Heavy footsteps pounded.
MyarmsshookwithexhaustionasIraisedtheyellowedceramichigher—readyto
fight.
Father's voice was close as he screamed, “Kids help—quick . . . something is
hurting her!”
I stilled.
Whatdidhejustsay?DidhejustaskUSforhelp?Theoneshewasplanningon
killing?
Charlie whimpered and curled tighter in on himself.
I closed my eyes and didn’t move.
The wails crescendoed.
“Children call 1313, atitanhasyourmother!”Thebathroomdoorrattledlikehe
was trying to get in. “Alex, do something.”
I hated that nickname.
We didn’t have a mother.
Not really.
A stomach-curdling wail sounded in the kitchen.
Titans were drawn to blood and violence, but the misery in this trailer was an
almost daily occurrence. Why wouldonesuddenlyattacknow?Itdoesn’tmakesense,
unless. . .
42
I gasped—the window was wide open after Nyx had broken through it, so the
trailer wasn’t locked up like usual.
A beast had gotten in.
The lid in my hand shookunmercifully.IcyscalesslidagainstmynecklikeNyx
was re-positioning herself to attack.
“Something invisible is tearing herapart—it’s–it’s—it’soneofthem...ithasto
be . . . please call . . .please help!” Father pleadedthrough the door. “I see it moving!”
The door creaked as he slammed against it and tried to get in.
I doubled over with chest pain.
Mother screamed louder and father sobbed as he clawedatthebathroomdoor.
“Please, call the Spartans now. Please children. Her mouth is foaming, it’s . . .
horrible.”
She was being attacked and he was at the door. It was really happening—the
Titans were here.
I squeezed my eyes tighter.
Charlie sobbed louder.
Fistsbangedagainstthedoor,adesperatemanpleadedbrokenly,andmyhands
trembled harder.
Blood rolled down my face and dripped onto the floor.
The door rattled and the dying screamed.
Haunting classical music played.
“You are strong,”Nyxwhispered.“Youarebrave.”Scalesslidacrossthesideof
my face like she was nuzzlingme.“Youcanhandleanything—theuniverseisyoursto
command.”
43
Tears joined blood and dripped down my face.
I didn’t move and didn’t open my eyes.
The phone on the wall remained untouched.
There was an awful gurgling noise then . . . silence. The only sound wasfather
sobbing brokenly.
I held my breath as I waited. Waited for him to start making the same sound
mother made. Waited for the door to break down. Waited to fight aTitan.Waitedfor
death.
Time stretched.
I kept waiting.
“I think it’s gone,” father said despondently, then there was a crash like he’d
tripped.Thefrontdoorslammed,hisvoicewasmuffledashescreamedandbeggedthe
neighbors for help.
I didn’t lower my weapon.
Charlie sobbed quietly.
The excruciating sensation in my sternum slowly drained away and everything
blurred.
Noises, sounds, movements, it was all a jumbled haze.
Time warped.
Charlie nuzzled sleepily against my side—I blinked into awareness.
Dim green lights flickered above and a familiar ratty couch was beneath me.
Night had fallen in the trailer and snow fell softly outside in the darkness.
The storm had passed.
44
CharliewasasleepundermyarmandNyxwaswrappedtightlyaroundmytorso
invisible beneath my sweatshirt. The trailer was full of strangers buzzing withenergy.
One of them said something about the neighbors calling it in.
Two of the strangers turned to me.
I flinched and tried to scoot back on the couch, to put distance between us.
The male and female medic didn’t care, they leaned closer and invaded my
personal space, the gold lion of the House of Zeus flashed their I.D. badges.
If I had any energy I would have stabbed them and screamed.
They dabbed something alongthelargestcutsonmyface,hands,andfeetandI
grunted.
“Stay still,” the female medic snapped. “This is extremely expensive Spartan
healinggel,there’sonlyasmallamountleft,onceit’sgone—you’reoutofluck.”Herlips
pursed with disgust.
The problem isn’t the medicine, it’s that you’re touching me.
“Youshouldbegratefulwe’reusingitatall,”themalemedicscoffed.“Thisbottle
is expired, otherwise we’d never waste it on you. Olympic Spartan laboratories take
yearsexperimenting and designing to create thesemiracle drugs.”
I wished it hadn’t expired.
With a deep breath, I hummed a classical tune and focused onthepositives—a
fewfeetaway,motherwasbeingzippedintoabodybagbypeopleinwhitehazmatsuits
and father was outside in the snow arguing as he was questioned.
Good times.
The trailer door slammed.
45
“Staystill,”themalemedicsnappedashesqueezedmycheeksanddabbedatmy
left eye.
He’sprobablynevertakenmathabovecalculus.CarlGausswouldneverspeak
or touch me like this.
A tall policeman—dressed in black with fancy Spartan guns on both
hips—kneeled infrontofmeandthewildhorseoftheHouseofArtemisflashedonhis
I.D., it glared with feral blood red eyes.
Thepolicemanclickedonarecorderandspokeinalowvoicelikehewastalking
to a skittish animal. “We just need you to tell us what happened—did you get these
wounds from your father? Did he hit you?” He asked softly like it mattered.
We both knew it didn’t.
Battery and assault weren’t prosecuted anymore—there was only one crime the
Spartan system expanded resources to combat.
“Not my father,” I corrected and my voice sounded strange.“Fosterfather,and
yes. He hurt m-me.”
The policeman’seyesnarrowedwithinterest.“Andwhohurtyourmother?Who
killed her, do you rem—”
“Tell them what happened Alexis!” Father’s voice bellowed from outside. “Tell
them it was the titans, you know I was—” He grunted like someone had hit him.
My brain finished the sentence for him,sobbingatthebathroomdoorbegging
you to call the Spartans.
“Ignore him,” the policeman said. “Who killed your foster mother?Youcantell
me the truth. She was . . . drenched in blood . . . it was a particularly . . .brutal attack.”
I opened my mouth to say it must have been a Titan, but the words didn’t escape.
46
Charlie could have died tonight. Nyx could have gotten hurt. I rubbed at my
wrists and looked the policeman dead in the eye.
“Father killed her,” I said calmly.
Red devil eyes flashed accusingly on his badge, but I didn’t flinch as the Wild
Horse glared.
The policeman clicked off the recorder.
“Thank you, that was all I needed. The system will handle this quickly, he’llbe
transferred tonight to the Spartan Federation penitentiary—he’ll serve life with no
parole.” He nodded at me. “He’s out of your hair.”
He stood up and walked out of the trailer.
Outside father started shrieking obscenities about killing me (greedy if you ask
me, since he already had his shot), but a car door slammed shut and he was silenced.
The femalemedicstareddownatmewithdisgust,hervoicewarpedasshesaid,
“Therewasnothingwecoulddoaboutyoureyeorear,youaren’tqualifiedforhospital
treatment.”
I had no idea what she was talking about.
She walked away with her partner.
Distantly, I was aware that someone was tracing yellow tape that read
“contaminated zone” along the walls of the trailer.
People shuffled out.
I blinked.
Time passed in a daze.
The trailer was empty and reeked of sterile disinfectant. It reminded me ofthe
“special drink.”
47
NeongreenlightscastshadowsoverthewallsasthelineofwhiteelectricSpartan
trucks drove away into the storm. Snow gathered gently on the windowsill.
The three of us were alone.
It was a dream come true; it was a nightmare.
Shaking,teethchattering,IpulledNyxoffmeandjerkilyrepositionedCharlieon
the couch, then I staggered over to the trailer door.
It took me multiple tries to turn the three locks.
WithtremblingarmsIdraggedtheoldarmchairacrossthefloorandshoveditin
frontofthedoorasabarricade.Hobbling,Ipulleddowntheshuttersoneverywindow,
then dug through a drawer.
It took me a dozen tries to light a match.
Finally, a single candle burned in the darkness.
Only after I’d dragged thewornpatchedblanketoffthebedthatnoneofushad
ever slept in, did I lay down beside Charlie on the couch and pull Nyx into my arms.
A high pitched ringing burned my ears and I winced.
When the flickering digital clock said 5:00 am, I gave up trying to sleep and
stumbled into the bathroom.
Thepipesgroanedaswellwatersputteredoutofthetap.Splashingfreezingwater
on my face, I looked up into the small mirror above the sink.
My mouth opened in an “o” of horror.
Curls stuck out around my head in every direction and my golden skin was
covered in welts, bruises, and cuts.
That wasn’t the problem.
48
Slowly,Iclosedmyrighteye—theworldwentfuzzyanddarkeventhoughmyleft
eye was still open—I opened my right eye and vision returned.
Pink water dripped slowly down my face.
Mismatched irises stared back at me in the mirror—it wasn’t an illusion—I no
longer had two dark brown (midnight black) eyes.
The left iris was white.
The right iris was black.
The best part—that wasn’t all.
Feeling like I was under water, I liftedmyshakinghanduptomyrightearand
spoke aloud—the sound was warped andstaticy—Idroppedmyhandandrepeatedthe
action. This time, I could hear my voice.
Marvelous
I was blind and deaf on my left side.
Whelp.Thisiseithergoingtomakememysteriouslysexy(inanangstypreteen
way—not a pervy adult way)or highly uncoordinated.
With a deep breath, I splashed more freezing water, patted down my hair, and
pushed my shoulders back.
Mysteriously sexy it is.
Thegirlinthemirrorlookedcalm.Coveredincuts,witheeriemismatchedeyes,
shewasintimidating.Powerful.Toherright,theemergencyphonehunguntouchedon
the wall.
“Who is she? I must know her name,” Carl Gauss would say if he saw her
walking down the street in Brunswick Germany.
She smiled.
49
Her abusers were gone.
She was free.
In those early hours, the girlinthemirrorbefriendedthesecondmonstershe’d
ever met—herself.
At least shethoughtshe did.
Latershe’dcometounderstandthatshewasbothveryrightandvery,very,very
wrongaboutthatassessment.Monstersweretrickylikethat,bythetimeyousawthem
for what they truly were, it was already too late.
Later that day, there was a loud knock on the trailer door.
A middle-aged man with deep mouth wrinkles stood outside in the snow.
“TheFederation,”hespatoutathickwadofmucus.“Hasidentifiedthistraileras
a crime scene, and thus uninhabitable.”
He pointed to a large white truck with a fancy silver rig on the back.
“I’ve been ordered to take it away.” His voice was warped, and the high pitch
ringing in my left ear worsened.
Snow flurried, his eyelashes frosted over.
“Where are w-we supposed to live?” I asked on numb lips.
“Not my problem, all inhabitants need to evacuate—now,” he said, expression
blank.“I’mauthorizedtouseforce.”Hishandrestedonariotstick,whichwasstrapped
to his belt.
A few minutes later, Charlie, Nyx, and Istoodontheemptypatchofdeadlawn
withtheparentsblanketwrappedaroundourshoulders.Afewmeaslypossessionswere
in a box at our feet.
The truck towed the trailer down the ice covered road.
50
“Let’sfindshelter,”Iwhisperedandledmyfamilytowardsthenearesttrailer,to
beg for help.
We were officially homeless.
That was the thing about living in dark times—life got progressively worse.
Always.
51
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