Page 12

Alexandra

Too hard

I pace back and forth in the dim purple cell, my mind swirling with frantic panic.

Carmen had been pacing too, but she’s gone now, led away by the red titan just like the two before her.

This reminds me of waiting in line with the other naughty students to be sent to the principal’s office, except instead of a stern lecture and suspension, I might end up dead. .. or worse.

Deep breaths, deep breaths.

That’s what my therapist would recommend, although I doubt, she imagined a situation like this! There’s not enough stale air on this ship to settle my nerves now.

Kazumi and Sandra returned in good health and with their clothes, giving me a sliver of hope.

I bombarded them with questions, desperate to learn what fate awaits me, but they barely spoke.

Both are shaken, sobbing quietly in the fetal position.

I’ll give them time before asking again, assuming I’m not carried away like a sack of potatoes first.

I smile at the thought of getting my Chanel suit and Birkin handbag back.

A familiar lifeline in this galaxy of madness.

Perhaps it’s a gesture of goodwill from our giant alien captors?

I frown as I continue to pace around the spacious cell, contemplating angles to exploit, negotiations to be made, if I play my cards right.

Kazumi’s outfit is simple; a black skirt, a blue jacket over a white shirt, and a green scarf now damp with tears. Her clothes are unbranded, and the blue jacket doesn’t match the black skirt—average and boring.

Still, it’s better than whatever Sandra is wearing. I stifled my laugh when she came back dressed in pink pajamas with white clouds. Dreadful! I’d rather go naked than be caught dead in those. I glance at my rotund belly with a grimace, realizing even ugly pajamas might be better.

When I return with my clothes, oozing style and sophistication, no one will doubt my social position. Oh! Perhaps even these aliens will appreciate I’m someone of importance—unlike the others.

Ugh, I shouldn’t be too hard on the poor women, but their crying is driving me nuts—they haven’t stopped!

We’re all suffering, taken from our homes, losing all that we know and love.

Loved ones... I guess. Like my mother—who hates me.

And my father, who probably wishes I never existed.

My lip trembles, but I squash it with a loud sigh and turn to Kazumi.

“Kazumi, I know now might not seem the best time,” I approach, speaking as gently as I can, which is completely at odds with the torrent of intense emotions swirling inside me.

“But I think opening up might help make you feel better.” I think that’s the sort of drivel my therapist would say.

And most importantly, I’ll feel better knowing what the hell is going to happen to me.

Kazumi looks up at me, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She sniffs, wiping her nose with the green scarf. “They say I’m bonded female,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

What the hell does that mean?

The ominous phrase steals my breath with its dark promise of sex slavery and God knows what else. Fuck, this is awful! I regret asking now. No. It’s better to know the truth, so plans can be made.

“They didn’t...” My words fall off as I scrutinize Kazumi, searching for any signs of abuse, finding nothing. “Touch you, did they?”

Kazumi shakes her head, and I breathe a loud sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God!” I exclaim, more for myself than for her.

“But for how much longer?” Sandra interjects, her heavy Scottish accent laden with wet hysterics.

“That big one. Dracoth ,” she spits the word as my ears perk up, finally having a name for our alien captor.

“He stared at my....” She pauses, glancing at her tangled hands, speaking in a hushed whisper.

“That monster’s going to rape me.” she erupts into renewed sobering. “I just want to go home!”

I rush to comfort Sandra with a sympathetic hug, muttering reassurances that everything’s going to be okay.

This Dracoth leered at me too, but it seems poor Sandra has stolen his attention.

How unfortunate for her... and fortunate for me.

Normally, I’d be jealous of being overlooked, but this is far from a normal situation.

Yes, this is good. I just need to appear as frigid as a nun, and I’ll be ignored.

Between Sandra’s wailing and Kazumi sniffles, I hear footsteps echoing. The unmistakable, familiar sound of the red titan’s massive thumping steps.

“They’re coming!” I exclaim, my heart pounding in my chest, knowing I’m next. The other two women intensify their crying, and I frown, thinking them as useful as chocolate coffee cups.

I gasp through a dry mouth, seeing the limp form of Carmen cradled in the massive arm of the red titan.

The walls feel like they’re closing in. The idea they may use violence on me is terrifying.

But I stop myself from demanding answers, remembering my plan to not draw attention.

This... Dracoth manipulates his alien wrist device, and the cell bars come crashing down with a resounding clang that makes me tremble.

He sets Carmen on the floor with surprising gentleness.

S hould I make a mad dash out of the open cell?

But where would I go, even if for some miracle I’m not caught instantly?

The red titan sets military camo clothes beside Carmen, and I feel a touch of relief noticing her chest rising and falling with loud snores.

She’s alive! And doesn’t appear injured from what I can see.

The red titan straightens and turns to me with a speed one his size shouldn’t possess.

My arms shoot to cover my nudity, remembering Sandra’s words and my plan.

The sheer immensity of him is overwhelming, not helped by his unreadable expression with deep, brooding eyes like blazing suns framed by a red sky.

He takes a step forward, and I take an instinctual step backward like a scary dance of sorts.

We both repeat the pattern a second time, and I titter with nervous tension.

But he doesn’t find it funny, sighing so loudly it could blow down the three little pigs’ houses. It’s actually reassuring—almost human.

He’s not the most patient, our giant alien captor.

The red titan frowns, heightening his already brooding expression. He gestures with his two hands, either beckoning me forward or requesting to fondle my breasts.

It’s hard to tell, but I sure as hell hope it’s the first. I flash a weak smile at our captor, totally at odds with the stomach-churning panic I’m struggling to mask. With tentative footsteps upon the cold black metal, I shuffle towards the cell exit.

He shifts suddenly as I pass him, and I almost leap out of my skin with heart-pounding fright. The red titan mimics a gesture of holding something, perhaps indicating an offer to carry me. But I turn, flicking my long blonde hair over my shoulder.

“No thanks, Dracoth. I’ll walk,” I state, straight-backed and haughty, with all the dignity my boarding school drilled into me.

Dracoth emits a short, deep sound that could be considered a snort of approval. Careful now, Lexie, we don’t want to charm him too much... or at all. I remind myself with a solemn nod.

Seducing men comes naturally to me. I can’t help myself. It’s so fun and exciting: a suggestive look here, a hand on the leg, and an encouraging word there—my problem has always been keeping them… well, the ones worth keeping.

It’s my large size—curvaceous and six feet tall.

The boys feel intimidated, preferring skinny Barbie-doll bitches instead.

Well, that or perhaps my passionate nature.

Memories of screaming arguments come unsolicited.

But those weren’t my fault. If my ex-boyfriends just behaved, treating me with the respect a lady deserves, none of those fights would’ve happened.

I’m bursting with passionate life, and these so-called men can’t handle that.

I sigh with annoyance, assaulted by painful memories. Dracoth marches behind me, his wind tunnel-like breathing echoing through the dusty, flickering, lighted corridor, grating on my nerves. Not to mention he’s probably staring at my ass; the thought causes me to shake with sudden rage.

“You walk in front!” I demand, halting to glare up at the titan.

My fury freezes to icy fear in an instant as I stare at the hulking alien, wondering what madness possessed me to challenge him. He returns my scowl with an unblinking stare, looking like a giant red statue.

“ Ni triackoid kis ,” he grumbles after a brief moment, gesturing down the dilapidated black marble corridor.

“I can’t understand you!” I state the obvious with exasperation.

Suddenly, it hits me that he can’t understand me either.

“You big, scary, dumb, red hobo with no fashion sense,” I say, my tirade with a fake smile that doesn’t reach my eyes and a sweet tone that could cause a toothache.

Though my captor doesn’t seem convinced by my act.

He frowns, searching my face. There’s a calculating cunning behind his burning eyes that fills me with dread. I flinch as he reaches into a pouch dangling from his tacky leather belt. His arm shoots to my face with such speed I can’t react to in time,

“Stop...” I push uselessly against his immovable muscles, hearing a soft hiss near my ear.

In a panic, I trace my fingers over a small metal disc just below my left ear. “What the hell did you do to me?” I exclaim in outrage.

“Those false words you spoke. Repeat them.” The terrifying Dracoth leans down with a knowing rock-hard glare, filling my space with his presence.

I recoil in shock, realizing I can understand him now and that he’s calling me out.

The titan clutches my shoulders, his grip like hot iron. “Speak, female,” he demands, and I curse myself for my impulsive, hasty words coming back to haunt me with interest.