Arachna

Chapter 3: Oh God, She's Worse than I Thought

Lance awoke on the cool sheets of the hotel bed, his eyes absent of their usual heaviness.

The room around him was a soft brown. Light from the overcast sky filled the room through a crack in the almost-closed curtains.

Groaning, he clumsily rolled out of the bed, wishing more than anything he could stay under the covers forever. He stretched and finally stood up straight. He rubbed his tired eyes as he padded to the window then ripped open the curtains. The light stung his eyes at first, but he adjusted quickly.

The sky looked only moments away from releasing a torrent of rain.

He looked out at the city. The slums always felt dead and devoid of any happiness, yet in this part of the city, citizens ambled along sidewalks and drove down streets in clean, polished cars. A fountain stood nearly out of view. Its statue featured a black widow with its fangs bared, water spilling from them and pooling below. A child stood nearby, tugging at his mother's sleeve. Moments later, he threw something into the water.

The mother grasped her child's hand as he returned from the statue's looming presence. Lance grimaced as they walked away. Where would he be now if his parents hadn't died? On a bus, maybe, or a train. He would walk into a house that smelled of fresh pastries. His mother would round the corner with tears in her eyes and embrace him so hard that he couldn't breathe. His father would hug him as well. They would eat and laugh and tell stories. They would let him stay as long as he wanted. He would be a part of a family.

That dream would never come true.

Tears rolled down Lance's cheeks before he could stop them. He wiped them away, sniffling and swearing at his parents for abandoning him.

His watery eyes glazed over as he stared out at the rest of the city. He focused on the skyscraper in the center, taller than every other building, towering like a king over peasants—Landreau Corp, the company supposedly working on a secret project only a year after moving to Arachna.

Lance leaned forward and rested his head against the cool glass of the window, goosebumps rising along his arms as the cold seeped through and into his bare chest.

Soon, he would have to leave this room and join Kaela for whatever excursion she had planned for him. If she was as bad as he thought, he'd certainly needed that good night's rest.

Again, no nightmare. That was a relief, at least.

A knock sounded.

"One second!" Lance called. He ripped himself away from the window and dressed in the clothes set out for him—under Eric's orders, he guessed.

A pair of black elastic pants cleverly disguised as jeans, and a black shirt. The clothes smelled of pine and lavender, which would've been a lovely sensation had it not smelled exactly like the matron at the orphanage. A copper taste formed in his mouth, and he suddenly had the urge to spit.

Now clothed, Lance crept to the door, taking his time to look around, savoring every moment he could be in this room, safe and comfortable. No risk of being attacked or shot. No more moldy walls, chipped paints, or rancid smell. He stowed a few things from the bathroom in his pockets.

He wondered if he would be able to afford rooms like this once Eric started paying him.

Lance opened the door. Kaela stepped in without a word, wearing a royal-blue dress that covered one shoulder and left the other bare. Glitter shone like diamonds on the skirt as it floated just above the carpeted floors. A sneer played on her lips as she looked around the room, as if she was in a garbage can rather than a four-star hotel room.