I moaned as I came to, my mind in a haze.
Dark with a sprinkling of light from the small holes dotting the high ceiling. I felt around me. Uneven concrete covered with dust, grime, and other things I’d rather not know about. Then I reached a piece of warm flesh.
I quickly withdrew my hand. Squinting in the dim light, I recognized Ramello’s unconscious form. My strengthened body was probably why I woke up before him, or they drugged him more. Dunno. I poked him trying to wake him; I didn't speak because I didn't want to alert any enemy who might be nearby.
Ramello did not react, but I could see his chest moving as he breathed.
How long were we out? Should I try to escape? They didn't bother to tie us, probably not expecting I would wake up this soon.
There was a loud buzz and metal rattled. A motor groaned to pull up the metal slats of a large commercial garage door, the overhead type, letting more light creep in. The easily recognizable salty smell of the sea and my illuminated surroundings, which appeared to be a wide storage space of sorts, told me that we were held in a warehouse by the docks.
The door was about halfway open when I decided it was best to pretend to sleep. I slumped back down and relaxed my body. Several footsteps...I couldn’t make out how many they were. More than three. Maybe five. And clunky wheels, a trolley, or a pushcart carrying something heavy.
“Boss, are you sure about this?” one of them said.
“It’s not about being sure or not,” said a voice I recognized. The man with the purple mohawk, the one with powers. This was him. “As long as we don’t go against anything Big Marcy said, we’re fine. Understood?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Now put that there. And wake these two up.”
The overhead doors rattled shut and a click of a switch turned on the lights in the warehouse.
Someone stepped over me and bent down, his large shadow putting me under the shade. I kept my body relaxed even as a thick needle pierced my skin. I could only hope he didn’t notice my body was more durable than a normal human’s.
They chatted as they waited for us to wake up. In turn, I was waiting for Ramello to awaken so I could follow after him. Purple mohawk and his men talked about deliveries and auctions, and all other stuff I couldn’t understand. I kept on listening, trying to memorize as much as I could. There was something about games and scheduling them, and the VIPs that will come. Were they referring to underground pit fights?
“What? Where am I?” I could feel Ramello jump to his feet. “Who the fuck are you guys?” He shook my shoulders. “Erind, are you alright? What did you do to her, you bastards?!”
“Relax, lover boy. We didn’t do anything to your girlfriend,” purple mohawk said. “We just put you both to sleep.”
“Ramello,” I whispered as I pretended to regain consciousness. “What’s going on?” And I'm not his girlfriend.
“I don’t know. Seems like we got kidnapped by these people."
I sat up and hugged my knees across my chest, making myself as small as possible. “Who are you?” I asked them timidly. "Whe-where are we?"
“Who, what, where…add in when and why, and you have the Five W’s of basic information gathering,” purple mohawk replied. “'Who'. Well, you can call me 'Rofirio', one of the enforcers of an organization I can't tell you about. Next is 'what'. What’s up with you guys?” He laughed, and his henchmen, three muscular gun-wielding goons wearing heavy coats, reluctantly laughed with him.
"Don't be scared, Erind. I'm with you.” Ramello felt around his pockets and took out his phone. “Huh?” He tapped furiously at its screen.
“There’s no point using that. Both of your phones, and any other electronic devices you may have on you, are fried. Thanks for asking the ‘why’ question.” He walked over to a large rectangular metallic container, about as large as twice my fridge at home. “But let's go back to 'where' first. You're near a body of water and far from help of any kind, so don’t think about escaping. 'When' is about two and a half hours since we nabbed you earlier. And now to 'why'.” Rofirio pressed a few buttons on a panel on the side of the container. It hissed, the front part clicked open, revealing the sleeping monstrosity inside.
I tried my best to fake scream.
"The hell? What is that thing?” Ramello exclaimed. He stood in front of me protectively as I cowered behind him.
The ‘thing’ inside was something I didn't expect to see. It was clearly once a human as it wore a tattered shirt with ‘Calif. 1904’ emblazoned on it, whatever that meant, and frayed jean shorts. But not anymore, now a horribly misshapen freakshow.
Its arms were longer than a normal human’s and of different lengths. One arm reached its thigh and the other its knee, both ending in hands that had way too numerous fingers. Its right leg had a couple extra joints and folded up in its container to be able to fit. The skin on its face peeled in several places, and pieces of its flesh had fallen off, showing crumbling bone beneath.
“Disgusting, right?” Rofirio said. He pointed furiously at Ramello. “Don’t go back to the question ‘what’ and start another topic. Where were we?”
“The question ‘why’, Boss.”
“Why? I honestly don’t know. Big Marcy only told us to get you, specifically that little girl over there.”
My eye twitched a bit as he referred to me. “What do you want from us?” I cried out, my voice breaking. I was pretty good at doing it intentionally. “Let us go!” Yeah, right. As if they were going to do that.
“Ok, fine, I guess I didn’t answer the 'what'. That’s fair.” He folded his arms across his chest. “As I’ve said, we were instructed to hold you. I don't know for how long. And I’m bored. So, what’s going to happen—see that? I used ‘what’. Anyway, what’s going to happen here is that you guys are going to play with this thing while I wait for Big Marcy to tell me why the fuck we had to take you.” He patted the container with a monster inside.
Ramello brought up his fists and dropped into a convincing fighting stance, hinting he had experience fighting. “You’re not going to get away with this. I have an uncle in the police. If I don’t show up for our meeting this afternoon, he will suspect something's wrong, especially if he can’t call me.” The part about the meeting probably wasn’t true because Ramello planned to ask me out for lunch, and naturally he would have kept the rest of his afternoon open if something ‘progressed’ between us. “And is that an Adumbrae? You guys are going to get hunted by the BID for sure. Or even the Corebring.”
I rolled my eyes. What a stupid thing to say, Ramello.
"What should we do then? Let you go so you can report us and then we’ll get killed?" Rofirio licked the piercings on his lips and continued, "We just wanna have fun with you kids. Don't be so uptight.” He motioned for one of his goons and pointed to the abominable creature’s neck. “For clarification, this is not an Adumbrae. We tried and failed. There’s no one up here,” he said, prodding the monster’s head. “Human or Adumbrae, no one’s home. A mutant may be an apt term.”
The musclehead with a funky beard injected something into the mutant’s neck. I think it was the same substance they used to wake up Ramello. As the monster stirred, they retreated to a safe distance and took out their stun gun batons.
Ramello said to me, “Don’t worry. I will protect you.” The monster roared, making both of us flinch. It thrashed about, jumped out of the container, and headed for the muscle grunts, but stopped at the sight of them waving stun batons as if it had experienced them before.
“I-I...I be-believe you'll protect me,” I said, starting to sob.
“Hide over there,” Ramello said. I ran to the stack of boxes he pointed to.
Rofirio cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Round one, ladies and gentlemen! Place your bets how long will this fine, strapping young lad last? One minute? Two?”
The mutant rushed at Ramello, running on all fours as it couldn’t run normally with its lopsided legs. It swiped with its long arms. Ramello ducked and rolled, drawing it away from me. As he picked himself up, the monster let loose a barrage of punches with surprising speed. Ramello held up his arms. Sickening thuds and cracks echoed, Ramello misjudging the strength of its inhuman punches.
To his credit, he didn’t scream but only grimaced. He jumped out of the way as the monster started to smash wooden crates. Rofirio and his men cheered him on while he expertly dodged hits from the monster after getting a taste of its strength.
“Two minutes already! Let’s go three minutes! Any bets if he could hit back?”
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In answer, Ramello dove for a broken piece of wood shaped like a stake. He waited for the monster to strike, timing his attack between its raging fists. He rushed with the stake straight into its belly, putting his weight behind it, stabbing the monster deep. I shouted to cheer, surprising myself. I guess it was only normal to root for the underdog.
Something hit Ramello, throwing him across the room. He landed into a pile of sacks. The monster had kicked him with its extra-long right leg it folded behind it.
“Stand up, lover boy!” Rofirio bellowed. “It’s going to get your girlfriend!”
The monster was indeed coming for me. I ran further back into the warehouse. My mind was already calculating if I should use my powers.
A roar reverberated, but it wasn’t the monster. It was Ramello. Fueled by adrenaline, he rushed headlong into the monster as if he didn’t have any injuries, and tackled it. He grasped the stake, pulled it out, and began stabbing the monster again and again with his remaining strength.
Unfortunately, the monster also didn’t care about pain. It grabbed Ramello with both of its grotesque hands, pried him off, and threw him away. Ramello hit his head on the floor and then rolled across like a ragdoll. The mutant hollered in triumph and lumbered towards Ramello to finish him off.
“That’s enough entertainment for now,” Rofirio said. He ran to intercept the monster, dropping to the ground to touch it. Just like what happened to me previously, the monster's feet sunk to the floor, stopping it in its tracks.
“There, I saved your friend,” Rofirio said. “Don’t cry anymore, little girl.”
“Are you okay, Ramello?” I rushed over, knelt beside him, and cradled his head. “Of course, not," I said dryly under my breath. That was a dumb question.
He was out cold. A bright red gash glistened on his forehead from where he hit the floor. He had bruises and wounds all over his exposed arms from trying to block the blows and clawing of the crazed mutant. Blood dripped from the side of his mouth; he probably sustained internal injuries too.
But he was still breathing.
I patted his head.
You did good, I thought unsarcastically.
I always appreciated naturally good people, those who would help others even if there was nothing in return, or even to their detriment. They were so unlike me; I would never be like them. Neither could I truly understand them. I found that especially fascinating.
They were like a rare animal that should be protected.
I didn’t know if Ramello was going to survive his injuries or if he could even get out of here alive, but he should be honored that I thought highly of him.
If he'd die, let the world remember this man who sacrificed his life for me even if I didn’t care for his life. I’ll make you a medal and put it on your casket, I swear.
Rofirio approached the flailing mutant. It tried to reach him with its hands, making him step back. “The audacity of my food to try to eat me.” He spat at the mutant and bent down again to reach the floor.
His fingers dipped into the ground. It gave way as if it was water. He swirled the liquified concrete then coaxed it up into a blob, its consistency turning thicker, similar to that of clay. With expert hands, he quickly fashioned the crude form of a knife with the concrete turned putty. He pinched the base of the edge and smoothened it out with a flourish, flicking away the excess material. The clumps of mushy concrete become solid after leaving his fingers. They bounced off the ground with a crumbling sound expected from gravel.
Rofirio waved his creation, slicing and stabbing an imaginary target in front of him. The knife had hardened and didn’t break apart with all his movement. The mutant continued wailing in the background.
He lunged at the feral mutant, driving the knife deep in between its eyes up to its crudely fashioned hilt. The unfortunate former human spasmed. It gripped Rofirio’s arm and tried to pull it out. But it couldn’t fight against Rofirio’s strength. Instead of budging, Rofirio twisted his knife and lifted the creature with it high up in the air, releasing the hold on its legs, demonstrating his enhanced strength by doing it with only one hand.
“Is your friend still alive?” he said.
“I don’t…yes…I think he is,” I sobbed.
“We were instructed to keep only you alive. Your friend was in the wrong place at the wrong time, little girl.” He slammed the mutant to the ground. He pressed his other hand to the floor, softening it. Pushing the body of the creature down, he submerged it into the ground until only the upper portion of its head remained. “Since we’re going to be waiting here for a while—I don’t even know what we're waiting for.” He turned to one of his lackeys. “Do you know what we're waiting for?”
“No idea, boss.”
“Is Big Marcy already in the main building?”
“No idea, boss.”
“Is that all you can say?” Rofirio wagged his finger at him.
The grunt took a step back. “I’ll go find out.”
“Go on. You do that while I have my meal.” Rofirio threw the knife up, caught it, and slammed it on the mutant’s head exposed above the floor. It made me wonder if there were other people buried below me. His power was very convenient for hiding bodies. And if you didn’t know about his ability, he could catch you off-guard and incapacitate you quickly. He opened the skull of the mutant and rummaged around it. “Whatcha looking at, little girl?” he said, noticing my stare.
“Nothing…I-I wasn’t looking.” I bowed my head.
“Look back here.” He threw the knife and it landed beside me. “Look at me when I'm talking to you, little girl.”
I followed his orders.
“I'm eating, you see. A natural thing.” He ripped the mutant's scalp off and removed pieces of the cracked skull. “Very natural, even though it might be uncomfortable to look at. Just like breastfeeding in public. It’s just a baby eating. Let them be. Just like I’m eating this mutant’s brain. Don’t be disgusted.” He sat crossed-legged with the exposed brain in front of him. “Ah, found it. As the Japanese say ‘itadakimasu’. Did I say that right, Burke?” Another one of his lackeys nodded. “Let’s insert some international culture in this place,” he said as he stuck his finger into the mutant’s brain and scooped out its contents.
“Why are you eating that?” I asked meekly.
“Speak up, little girl. I won’t bite."
Oh? But I would. “Umm, I was asking why are you eating that. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Yes and no. For normal people, yes. For normal people, food is sustenance. For me, this is retaining myself. If I don’t do this, then I'll lose myself to the dark void that always creeps there, asking to be paid its due after giving me powers.”
What did he say? I closed my eyes. Pause, freeze-frame, halt, time-out. Did he mean he was eating the brain to keep himself from losing his personality to the Adumbrae?
Didn’t Dario say they suspected the Adumbrae hiding in Division Proxy was using criminal organizations to conduct experiments in holding back the Adumbrae taking over the mind? What if these people were intentionally making these mutants to harvest them? What if part of the brain of these mutants had something that could stop the Adumbrae’s usurpation of the mind? Did that brain taste good?
“Hey! Hey!” Rofirio said. “Little girl! Don’t close your eyes.”
I opened my eyes. “What?”
“Didn’t I say you should look at me while eating? This is nature in motion.” He paused and wiped the blood from his mouth. “You're not crying anymore. Finally composed yourself? Or are you in shock?”
I looked at the unconscious Ramello, slowly dying in my arms. I had a face for him, my law school timid girl face who could also be assertive. But these guys? Rofirio, his grunts, and everyone else around here. I didn’t have a face for any of them. They'd all die by my hands anyway, so why bother to make a face for them?
I made faces for people I'd meet again. That was the point. My first meeting with people was for making a face for our future social interactions. I really hated wasting my time making a face, like back in high school when I worked out so I could join the cheerleading squad to steal away the boyfriend of a girl that annoyed me—who incidentally preferred cheerleaders—and he ended up changing schools anyway.
I dug my nails into my palms as I controlled the urge to cringe at my stupid schemes when I was a kid.
“She’s just staring blankly at me.” Rofirio waved at his men. “One of you slap her around. The point of this is for kids to understand they shouldn’t be disgusted by something natural.”
“I’m not a kid,” I said calmly. I laid Ramello’s head on the floor and adjusted his position to be comfortable. “I don’t know why you keep calling me that. I’m short, but not like super short. I guess I do look young for my age.” I stood up and smoothened my clothes. “You know what? Sometimes I get mistaken for a high schooler.”
“Burke, wait a moment,” Rofirio said, holding his hand up at the muscle-head walking towards me. “Putting on a brave face, little girl? Oh, I do enjoy that. I thought you were just a sniveling bitch, hiding behind your boyfriend. That’s not much fun. A bit of resistance is fun.”
“This guy? He’s not my boyfriend. By the way, are you guys releasing me later?”
“I suppose so,” Rofirio said. “We're not going to kill you. But we'll kill that guy so he can’t snitch.”
“How about me?”
“You’re right. I think you’ll need to be taught a lesson to keep your mouth shut. We also need to teach you good manners. Burke strip her.”
“Okay, Boss.”
“I don’t really have much in the way of curves,” I said. I placed my right arm behind my back, palm open, concentrating on summoning the mask SpookyErind lent me.
“Just my lucky day,” said Rofirio, “I do like little girls.” He licked his lips and wiped his bloodied hands on his pants. “Big Marcy didn’t say I couldn’t play with you. Let me see the goods. If you take your clothes off, no need for Burke to hurt you.”
“I’m the shy type,” I said, grinning.
Rofirio shrugged. “Todd, get me a seat for this show. Burke, go ahead.”
Burke walked towards me. I put on the red mask on my face. “What’s that? A mask?” Burke said as he grabbed my wrist. “Where did you get that?” His eyes widened as I suddenly grew taller and changed into a different person. “Fucking hell,” he gasped, throwing a hesitant punch. I caught it with my other hand.
I opened my long snout wide enough to cover Burke’s face, showing off rows of sharp teeth that would put a metal grinder to shame, the muscles of my jaws brimming with power.
And then I chomped down, removing the front half of his face.