With the remainder of humanity in chains, Shasta keeps her head down and tries to weather the storm. Servicing the filthy needs of a superior alien race, each day passes in a blur, the struggle to survive outweighing everything else.
After ten years...
I wake startled, like I've been doused in freezing water. Jolting upright, I realize that nothing is happening, it's just my body panicking. Placing my hand on my chest, I try to calm my racing heart.
Low lights illuminate the room slightly, just enough so that I can see.
I'm on the ground on a rug that looks like it's made from some kind of thick, brown fur. Turning around, I see him. He's on a platform coming out of the wall. It doesn't look comfortable but he's fast asleep.
My breath catches as my eyes move over the massive form of his body.
Lying there, asleep, he looks just as lethal as they look standing upright with a bloody weapon in his hand. One of his hands hangs over the side of the bed. It's huge with pointed black claws that look like they could shred me to pieces. Moving up, I look at his arm, up to his shoulder. His face is tucked down so I can't see it but his horns are on full display.
Black and twisted, they coil into a sharp point at the tip.
Sighing, I look around the room. It's basically empty. Aside from the bed and rug, the walls are bare, there isn't any other furniture or windows to look from. It's just like the room from last night. Nowhere to hide, no way to escape.
Lying back down, I run my fingers through the fur, watching him for any signs that he's waking. I don't want to be caught off guard.
I don't know how much time has passed but eventually, his fingers move. It's almost nothing, but I notice it, a twitch, signs of life. Within a few minutes, he's sitting up, his feet hitting the ground, sending a vibration through the floor.
He's massive.
When he stands up, the room suddenly feels smaller, like the walls are closing in.
He looks at me, his head tilted to one side. Apparently, that's an intergalactic sign of interest. When he speaks again, goosebumps rush over my skin. His voice is so strange, low and rumbling but kind of soothing. There is something quiet about it.
Sitting up, I stare at him, trying to understand what he wants from me.
He moves to the door. A screen illuminates a panel in the wall beside it. His fingers move and tap on different things, squiggly lines that have no meaning to me.
He turns, looking over his shoulder and he speaks again - this time with a little bit more behind it. His expression is frustrated as he lifts his hand to the screen and mumbles something to himself.
I'm not off to a great start. I'm irritating him.
He turns sharply, pushing his bed into the wall so that it disappears. When he pushes another panel, a table with a single stool slides out from a hidden compartment.
So he does have furniture, it's just in the walls.
I don't know what to do. I can feel him staring at me but I can't figure out what he wants. Picking at my cuticles, I stare at the rug, waiting for something to happen.
A loud, rattling bang on the door starles me. He hardly seems to notice as he stands and opens it, pulling in a tray that was left outside.
The smell immediately hits me. It's food. More specifically, meat.
He sets it on the table and turns his attention to me. He looks at me, then at the tray, back and forth a few times. When I don't move, he holds his hands out before dropping them against his thighs. He says something again before shaking his head and going back to the panel beside the door. As he turns it on there is another bang against the door.
He opens it again and quickly grabs an item. It's small, I can't see it concealed in his hand.
Slamming the door closed he stalks toward me, grabbing me unexpectedly up from the floor. Panicking, I flail in his arms but he is too big and too strong to really fight against.
He brings me to the table, slinging me over his legs like a doll. With one hand he holds me face down, pressing it into his leg before I feel a sharp pain behind my ear. It stings, burning like he just ripped my ear off completely, then there is a loud, ringing sound.
Gasping, I push with my arms just as he releases me, letting my body fall to the ground. Scrambling away, I reach up, feeling that my ear is still there. Behind it, there is a small, smooth ball embedded in my skin - the source of the pain.
"Eat." His voice rings out clearly.
Shocked, I look up at him. I can understand him now?
"Eat." He repeats again.
"O-ok," I move slowly toward the table, afraid that this is some kind of trick.
The tray is full of meat, that's it, just a huge pile of shredded meat in a brown sauce.
"Um," I look at the tray. "Just take it?"
His brow furrows and he pulls a utensil from a hidden drawer on the tray. These aliens seem to like to have everything put away in a hidden compartment.
Taking some of the meat, I bring it to my lips slowly. What even is this? I'm not going to ask.
When the food hits my tongue, he begins to eat also, watching me carefully.
It's good. It's similar to how I remember meat from home. Saty, savory, with a hint of peppery seasoning.
I have so many questions but I don't ask them. He's feeding me and not actively injuring or using me. For now, this is all the information that I need.
"You are not Monturian." He finally speaks. "What are you?"
"Human."
"From what planet?" He tilts his head again, curiosity etched into his strong face.
"Earth."
"I do not know Earth." He hums. "What galaxy?"
"Um, I don't know."
"I am an Astrynian champion." The pride in his voice and expression spikes my heart rate. What I say next might be the wrong thing. He looks as if I should already know what that means.
Instead of speaking, I just nod, hoping that he takes that as understanding and I don't offend him.
"Are you combat trained?"
--
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