Without Light

Ch. 2 Hikaru

"I'm sorry, Hikaru. I love you. I truly do…"

Her father's trembling voice whispered to her, somehow, dancing on the night's winds. She didn't recall the words in the morning or even see the man who'd spoken them. In fact, Heather Hikaru noticed only two things that night: the dark, empty halls of her suburban home, more lonesome than she'd ever known them, and mother's tears: that steady, unending flow of pure, refined misery.

One clear drop fell for every crimson one he had shed: life drained away, along with her joy, and left only one letter, crumpled and wet in her pale, shaking hands.

And Heather didn't understand it then, but there was something to be said of two lovers torn apart: souls that lost their mate. The barefoot eight-year-old could never hope to console her mother, nor grasp her father's reasons for leaving: destroying everything his family held dear, but she did realize just one thing.

I don't ever wanna fall in love.

This childish wish lasted a decade: a stubborn refusal of all that was true and ordained, until the day fate decided it was time to wake up.

Cold water closed in all around her, until she could feel nothing but her breath stolen away and the pressure of darkness. Through her sight flitted slick black tentacles and glowing red eyes.

Murky green depths robbed all thought  and all light.

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Disgusting. On instinct Heather coughed up putrid lake water, nearly choking on the aftertaste alone. Her lungs seemed to scream for the dank air that filled them, relieved by precious oxygen even with the bitter aftertaste of seaweed and blood.

Once she'd caught her breath, the dizzy teenager tried to get her bearings as well. She seemed to be laying facedown on what felt like a cold, hardwood floor. Something had been wound around both her wrists, keeping them tied behind her back, and she could see only blank darkness, owing to what felt like leather over her eyes.

Just as she opened her mouth, attempting to cry out even despite the biting gag she could feel in her mouth, someone cut her off.

"Well done my friend,” a deep, man’s voice rumbled, “that's two humans you've brought me in just one day! And they’re young!”

"It was too easy," a separate voice crooned, "young indeed, but stupid as well…"

"That won't matter." The first man assured. "We'll just market them as 'virgin' and 'fresh!’ They oughtta fetch a nice price!”

A price? Nothing these two said made any sense to poor Heather. She tried again to free herself, struggling valiantly, but whatever bound her remained solid. Whoever these men were, they were not novices at tying people up. If that wasn’t bad enough, the two just kept up their conversation, ignoring her entirely.

"How'd you manage to put it to sleep though, I wonder?"

"Simple," the second was saying, "I treated the water. The pure blood of Lunar Moths works wonders on humans you know..."

"So's anything else, but maybe it worked too good eh?” Now his voice picked up a cruel, teasing drone. “If'n this thing don't wake up, I might just haffta make us some nice human soup..."

What! But I am awake! Heather tried to call out, only to find her words muffled. "He-rup, Helrup!" Her voice sounded pathetic, but the two with her were only amused. The first of them chuckled, and she realized too late she’d done just what he’d wanted. "Oh well looka here. Think its alive?" He pretended to ask. Judging by the sound of his voice, she knew he was standing very close, perhaps bent down, looking right at her.