Project Hybrid

Version 3 | Chapter 6: The Truth

SOMETHING felt different when I awoke from the darkness.

Maybe it was the fact that the pain didn't linger against my skin anymore. Perhaps it was the fact that Kylo didn't rest in my uterus anymore. The baby meant to come into this world never took his first breath. I never had the chance to see my darling little boy grow up.

He was gone. Kylo was gone.

Maybe neither of those were the blaring difference I felt. However, none of it mattered. More important things rang through my mind. For example, I had no idea where I was. A dark, windowless room gave no clues to my location.

The feeling of starchy paper seeped against my back. Meanwhile, no scents filled the area — it smelled antiseptic, thus suggesting a medical practice. So, I realized it was a table on which I laid.

I sat up, feeling no ache in my back, unlike any typical day. Even before becoming pregnant, my regular wake-up routine included pain arching in my back for a moment as I stretched. Sabia always said that I inherited my father's double joints.

In the silence, I slowly lifted one leg. In the dull palette of grays, I could see the slender shape of my limbs. For some reason, they seemed more elongated than before.

"What happened?" I muttered to myself.

All of a sudden, I noticed someone in the shadows next to the table. I saw a woman. In the dark palette, her cowl crop top seemed only visible through its wrinkles. With her appearance, a humming sound blared against my ears.

"You want to know the truth?" the woman asked. She spoke with the same sharp twang as Athan. They bore some form of relationship based on the fact that her eyes were red, but not the same red as Athan. Her eyes seemed to have more of brownish-red pigment instead of the orpiment of wine. "Look in the mirror."

With those words, color pooled into the room. Reflective glass panels made up the walls. I could see the tall table, but strangely, I couldn't find myself in any of the mirrors. "How is this possible that I see nothing?" I glanced at the woman as the question left my mouth. What happened? "I'm a wolf, right?"

"First off," the woman said, "I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Aurelia Solano." She brushed her hair through her thick, midnight curls. Those tresses billowed softly in the room. Laced through her ringlets, strings filled with wooden beads, charms, Paua shells, and red garnets tapered off into stiff feathers. After a moment, Aurelia said, "I'm your creator."

"Creator?" The words felt weird on my lips. After all, the sound of it gave off this vibe: I was Frankenstein, and Aurelia was Doctor Frankenstein, who, by the power of science (lightning, notably), renewed his monster's life—"It's alive, it's alive, it's alive!"

"You died on the table," Aurelia explained, tapping the light brown dots that decorated her nose. "Luckily, I took a sip of your blood and saved you."

"So, I'm undead?" The words tasted weird on my tongue.

Aurelia nodded her head. "Like me. And I'm sorry—"

It all came back to me.

Come home.

Those words weren't a part of a dream; I had spent time with my son in the afterlife.

"Yet, you didn't save my son?" I asked, my voice slowly swelling like the violent tides that my ancestor faced upon escaping slavery in Mexico. I rose from the table and made my way over to her. "Why?" I pinned her against the wall. "Why didn't you save my son?"

"It's against the Vampiric Code," Aurelia explained and pushed me away. "The Sicilian Coterie would've dismembered me and threw me in a fire. And frankly, your son wasn't even vital. Not even an incubator could've saved him."