The Monster Within

I Picture You

Weak light filtered down through the barred slats in the roof, painting the straw strewn floor in a grey hue. Everything that surrounded Hollis was grey, bleak. The chains that bound her wrists to the wall clinked softly as she hugged her knees tighter against the dawn's chill. No more tears leaked from her eyes, and no more anger seeped through her pores.

She was simply hopeless.

Her cellmate, a girl of near the same age named Jez, was fast asleep, her tight brown curls matted with mud and debris. Hollis rested her chin on her knees, mind wandering as it had often done since her capture. She missed him, with searing pain that tore through her chest and gut. She loved him. And she wanted nothing more than to be in his arms once more.

But each day that passed brought her further away from him, from Cole, from Kenai and Teddy and Winston and Tyr. Her boys, she thought with a sad smile. All her life she'd been surrounded by women, and now she was surrounded by men. She knew where they'd gone wrong, could see with clarity the mistakes they'd made leading up to her capture. They'd been lulled into a false sense of security, and it had cost them everything.

She wondered if they'd be anywhere near her, if they'd concocted a plan to rescue her, but each long day that passed was a day further away from the man she loved. Even the thought of Tiberius was not enough to frighten her anymore; not when faced with her new reality.

She perked as the familiar metallic groan grated upon her ears. Her muscles tensed in anticipation for what horrors she'd be witness to today. Jez shifted beside her, awakening with a start and a hiss. Both knew to keep their mouths shut. The women in similar cells—hundreds of them, Hollis had guessed—all began to stir, angst thick in the air.

Down the row the guards went; two burly males with batons. The younger one, bald with eyes pale and snake-like, let his weapon beat against the bars as he meandered down, a sick smile plastered to his face. The other man, always stoic, remained the same as everyday. With his dark mop of curls and deep brown eyes, he reminded Hollis of Cole. Both men wore navy blue jumpsuits with a grey belt about their midsection and shiny black boots. She recognized the glint of metal—guns—and radios that squawked orders, often blaring and echoing through the cells. Across the left side of their chests was a round symbol; pale silver, three towers dominating a skyline, the tower in the middle the tallest. A city. The very one her and her companions had fought so hard to get to.

A few women whimpered, eyes wide with fear as the guards continued down, drawing nearer to where Hollis and Jez sat frozen on the concrete floor. She'd learned not to make a peep; the women that did were beat, starved, or simply disappeared.

What she didn't want, though, was for the men to stop outside her cell, for them to unlock it and reach in and take her. No one knew what happened to those women who were randomly chosen, but they never came back. She kept her eyes down, allowing her hair to hide her face. Jez did the same. The stomp of the boots crept closer.

Her heart hammered in anticipation. Every day, they passed by without a second glance. Today would be no different. She had to keep reminding herself that as she stared hard at her dirty knees. All the women were doused in some sort of chemical before they were thrown together into this prison, their clothes torn from their bodies. She was thankful for the knee-length, white gown. It was huge on her, but it was at least something.

Out of the corner of her eye, the women in the cell across from hers stiffened, and she witnessed a flash of silver. Hollis' eyes widened as panic clutched at her. The two women, one possibly a few years older than Hollis and the other a mere child, huddled closer. Everyone in the vicinity tensed in horrid anticipation. The older one caught Hollis' shadowed blue eyes. Hollis' eyes darted to the guards, only two cells away now, before falling back to the young woman. Choking back her words and fright, she gave a subtle shake of her head in tense warning. Whatever those two had concocted during the night, it would get them beaten into a pulp.