Night Runner

         I had stopped running at night. I had to, there was no other option, no solution, no cure. I felt the tug, every time I watched the sun fall on the horizon. The endless longing grew and grew; I thought it would make me burst. It started to go away, I started to be normal. Then it happened. I was walking back home from the football game, buzzed from the win and the sun went down. I knew I had to stop; too many people like me were out there waiting. It doesn’t matter though, the difference between them and me now is I’m newborn, and I have been rebirthed to be stronger, faster, and smarter than they are.

         Who are they anyway? It isn’t my fight. It wasn’t, not until recently anyhow, I was normal, probably like you, sitting there doing nothing for the sake of nothing. I hated it. I hated it too much; maybe that’s why they chose me, to shake me from my peaceful slumber.

         I want to go back; maybe I’d change things so that they didn’t take me. But I think maybe things are better now that I’m different, things aren’t so hard anymore. I don’t have to worry about curfew, school, money and stuff like that. Its all taken care of somehow, I don’t care how, it just works. But how did it happen? It’s all fuzzy and weird; maybe it was a bad trip?

         “Get her!” My feet were pounding across the blacktop, black on black, I was invisible to the men, but not the dogs, they were faster than the chumps who sat around drinking coffee all night long, not to mention better trained.

         “Stop you! Stop running!” The dogs were panting so hard, they wanted to bite me, tear me apart to please their masters. Not tonight, not ever. Sadly, these are the same type of dogs I outrun night after night for the high.

         Yeah, that’s right. I’m a junkie. Adrenaline is the drug I seek; I love it, perhaps too much. But the little things aren’t doing it anymore, I was constantly searching for the bigger high, the longest rush, whatever could make me tick wasn’t good enough. I needed explosions. And I needed them all night long.

         I leapt the fence, catching the top easy while the dogs ran into it and climbed. Too late, I was gone into the woods and my high was already dying. I was running back to my normal life. I would get out of bed at 7, take another shower and be off to classes before 8. Maybe I’d eat some cereal.

         These are the same woods I got lost in when my dad made us move here, the trees closed above my head so tightly that there was no undergrowth other than moss and mold. I felt pain in my side, something that would never happen if someone were chasing me, I slowed to a walk, touching the trunks as I passed. Birch, elm, oak, pine, these trees passed in their copses, I knew my way by memory now, but it felt good to feel the memories flow.

         Too soon, I was shook from that happy time when my mom and I climbed the tallest tree we had, the sweet sap from spring spread over our hands and bare feet… But that time is gone. Mom is gone. Gone with her long, sweeping hair, blue eyes, long fingers and bubbling laugh.

         Back at my house, the lights are on in the front living room. My head spun suddenly as the adrenaline hit me again. Dad and his wife should’ve been asleep! I looked up to my room where I had the door locked, my bathroom that opened up into the hallway was locked too. How do I get back in? The third story climb could be… Dangerous. I jumped into the air, arms out for the grab, hoping I didn’t slam into the wall!

         Bingo! I felt the blood pumping so hard in my veins it felt like screws twisting through my arms! I scaled the wall, faster than my high was so that the borrowed strength wouldn’t run out. I reached out to my open window, pushed the screen slowly, if it fell, I’d have to get it somehow and that wouldn’t be easy.

         I heard knocking at my door, gentle taps, cautious taps. The kind of tap you’d hear if your parents were checking to see if you were asleep. I pushed at the screen, I felt some places strain, and my head was spinning so hard!

         “Hon? You asleep?” I heard my dad’s wife try the doorknob. She was the only one who would use that nickname. And the only one who would be at my door at 3 AM. I shoved my screen into my room, that woman was knocking now, louder, I should be waking up. I grumbled about my history test in the morning, I wonder if she bought it.

         “Open the door Hon, I need to know what you heard tonight.” I froze, halfway in the window. What did I hear? I felt the high rising again, this may be it, that one final straw that she took from my dad, the one that made her snap and she killed him. Quick! I need something! Why does blood go to the body instead of the brain!?

         “What was I supposed to hear Karen?” Oh brother, that was smart. She tried the knob again. I dumped my backpack onto the floor, the books and notebooks scattered everywhere, I snatched up the only one that counts, crammed it and some essentials back into the bag, the most needed was my knife and a few lighters.

         Most people don’t understand, when you have fire, you have life. Even if you live in the middle of the city, fire can save your life from the urban wolves, the men who prey on people. Karen was doing something to the door, pushing on it or picking the lock?

         “I need you to open this door girl, right now!” She slammed her body up against the door again and it must have flung open dramatically. She flipped on the lights, searching for me. I know she did. Too bad I was in the hallway, running to my dad’s room. I found what I knew was true, he was sprawled across the floor, and I’m not sure if he was dead or not, but a person couldn’t lose that much blood and live.

         “Where did you go you little witch?!” Karen was screaming as she tore into my closet, I heard my glass bottles crash down and some probably hit her. I grabbed my dad’s wallet, I could use the debit card, the pin is my birthday, but she doesn’t know that. I pulled out his sock drawer, the only article of clothing he wouldn’t let her touch, with good reason, he had a few thousand dollars and his tiny six-shooter stashed there. The money lay untouched, but now I know where the gun was.

         My blood froze. I could die tonight. Karen screeched like a madwoman, I had to get out! All my thoughts flew out the door, just like me. I careened down the first flight, tripped and fell on the landing to the second floor; the whole thing was my dad’s lab.

         “THERE YOU ARE!” I looked up, there she was, red face framed by the angelic blonde that my dad fell in love with, but a gun in hand. “I GOT YOU NOW YOU DEMON SPAWN!” Hey, name-calling is fine, but I do go to church with my dad every Sunday… Sure, I don’t pay much attention, and I don’t really find the whole god thing remarkable or particularly inspiring, but I was definitely not demon spawn.

         I rolled down the next flight, elbows tucked; I wasn’t about to waste my breath yelling something useless at her. I heard two shots, how many does she have left? Doesn’t matter, keep running! I slid the banister, took a spin through the kitchen, the back door was made of glass, I could imagine, my life as an action movie, bursting through the doors in a spectacular shower of rainbow lit shards of death as I splashed into the pool below!

         I hit the glass, knocking the breath out of myself… I heard her; she was coming down the last flight! I slammed the door open and mostly shut, and ran to the front door, she would go to the back while I would escape to the street. Honestly, a street would be safer, she may be afraid of getting caught or inhibiting her shot. No matter what, I would run until the high was gone.

         I ran. My watched beeped, 4 AM, my head was empty, my blood pumping, the high wouldn’t stop until I was safe, I knew it would. I ran. My watch beeped, 5 AM. The city was going past me as I went with the ones who avoided traffic jams. My watch beeped; I tore it off and kept running. Why wasn’t my high wearing off? Because she could be anywhere, 3 shots were plenty for anyone with a decent sense of aim. The sun came up, mists rising off the streets, I stopped at the bank, my hood up over my white hair, and it was much too conspicuous in real life. I checked the balance of my dad’s account, 23,750,067.43. That’s a bit too much to carry on me. I drew a thousand and changed the PIN, there would be no way that Karen could know the address where I had first dyed my hair.

         Worst mistake of my life really, with my hair being white naturally, I wanted to fit in and found out that when dyed, my hair made the natural color look weird. Like, really weird. And I ran. I’m on the track team at school, I always win by a few seconds, if I were to get too far away from second place, I’d slow down and wait for them to get close enough for my high to come back, it’s the only way for me.

         I wonder if I’ll ever be able to go to school again, maybe somewhere else, or maybe online I could finish my high school. I stopped at a TV shop, the screens flickering behind the grate; it was the local newscast, showing my friend Mimi’s mother chatting with another anchor who was pretty new to the scene.

         “So Darla, how do you feel about your daughter’s close friend being involved in this murder scandal? I hear she was quite distraught after hearing the news.”

         Mrs. Mimi’s mom turned to the anchor, gave her customary giggle,

         “Well, it isn’t set in stone, we do know that there was an incident that involved Dr. Srovent and his new wife, it isn’t assumed that dear girl was involved in anything, why, the police even suggest that she was out that night and not home at all!” She sipped delicately at her coffee, probably that high-end mocha latte garbage they serve for 5$ an ounce.

         “But when authorities came onto the crime scene, didn’t they find Mrs. Srovent?” The screen flipped to a picture of Karen, laughing while she sat on my tire swing. I recognized the picture; I was the photographer for their wedding, honeymoon and everywhere else. Mrs. Mimi’s mom’s voice came through now,

         “If you see this woman, Mrs. Karen Srovent-Sanksen you all must be aware that she is armed and dangerous, call your local authorities immediately no matter where you are because we believe this girl’s life is at risk.” The screen flipped to a school photo, the only one found no doubt. I’m grinning, the cameraman had tried too hard to make me smile, but the tech support at the company who took the pictures had removed the weirdness from my brown dyed hair. No one would assume I had any other hair color because brown is normal.

         “Furthermore, our staff here at the station has received confirmation that should Ms. Srovent come to any police station, you will be given the protection that you need until Karen Srovent-Sankson is apprehended.” She turned to another camera, very dramatic angle; I could see tears forming in her eyes, were those real?

         “Please, I know you’re scared, but if you can hear me, I want you to come out if you’re hiding, the faster you get here darling, the safer you will be and the sooner we can catch the woman who killed your father.” The screen faded from the desk, I watched Mimi’s mom run off stage, hands at her face. I think she cared about me, maybe more about her daughter losing her best friend.

         I kept running though, I needed to figure out where I was before I could find any police station. I looked up the street, traffic was finally starting to pick up, that means that it will be harder for Karen to drive around and shoot me. Taintor and 53rd… I think I’m about 32 miles from my school. The cop station is on 45th and Red Cedar; I was closer to them than they thought!

         But what if Karen knows that? Could she catch up to me faster than I could run to the cops? I stared down the road, it seemed so far away… Too bad. I hit the pavement running, I could get that woman behind bars, and maybe my dad was alive, they didn’t say that he was dead! I hit the corner, turning hard and froze.

         There was a woman across the street, showing people a piece of paper. A truck flew by; the wind set the long blonde hair flying, just like my hood. She turned, I couldn’t move. She Looked at me and reached for her side…

         “Don’t move! It will be over soon!” I closed my eyes. I run fast, but a bullet is faster. Karen is right. It will be over soon. My chest expanded with the stench of the street filling my lungs, not the ideal last breath, but it would have to do…

         











































And I let it out after holding it too long. Across the street, there was no one. The couple Karen had been talking to was gone, Karen was gone. The air was still and silent, up one way, I watched a car turn onto a different road, but as far as I could see all the ways, there was no-

         “Srovent Faelyn. We meet at last.” I heard it behind me, I ran into the road, my head was past spinning; my lungs are going to burst! I hit the other curb and my ankle twisted into the sewer grate, but there was no way I could stop now-

         “CRACK!” I screamed as I fell to the ground, looking around, there were so many people, why were they not helping me? Why didn’t they seem to notice that a handful of people just disappeared? Where were the cars? One of them was walking towards me, wait, a lot of them were walking towards me!

         “Get away from me!” I yelled, pulling myself up the corner of the building, my left leg was shaking from the pain I must be feeling from the other’s broken ankle. All of the faces seemed to blend together; I can’t see any of them the right way it was like a cheap kaleidoscope with water inside swishing all the colors together. A woman, a man or something grabbed my arm, I pulled, but their grip was like a steel vice. Another grabbed my other arm; I screamed for help, nobody seemed to move. I felt their grip tighten, like they were going to lift me up and take me somewhere.

         “The transport is here for her, let’s leave.” It had to be a man, someone in charge, I saw him get into the vehicle, how did that get there? I was lifted from the ground, steadily marched into some unknown van. I wasn’t going to go with them! I swung my legs over, tripping up the person on my right, twisted my head, pulling my arm and I sank my teeth into the other’s wrist. I felt the blood well up when they yelped and dropped me. I could feel my ankle, swollen like a ripe watermelon on a hot day in July. That’s too bad. I rolled away from them, the adrenaline cleared away the pain, cleared my vision, showed me that they were indeed a man and a woman, dressed like normal people, one recovering from the fall, the other coming at me.

         I turned and bounded across the street, all of these people were coming at me! I licked my lips, I might have to fight my way… the blood on my tongue… it was rich… I licked my lips again, rolled it on my tongue, earthy, hot… I collapsed to the ground, I’m just tired… I can’t run anymore, maybe these are cops here to help me…

         I licked my lips again, searching for more of that blood, I don’t know why, it was just so alluring and it made me feel hot and tingly, but man am I tired…

         “That’s it, it’ll be fine now, just come with us, we’ll take you home Faelyn.” The woman put her arms under mine, pulling me up into a superhero carry.

         “My name isn’t Faelyn, its Celia…” I licked my lips again, the blood was gone, and why was I craving that woman’s blood? I could smell it; she was carrying me with the arm I bit, right under my neck, if I turned just a little more… my tongue swept across the pulsing wound I felt a familiar rush course through me before I curled up against the stranger. I was falling asleep, somewhere, my watch beeped. Time for school to be let out…



         A long room brightly lit with flickering fluorescent light fixtures, doors lined every wall except one where an enormous fireplace stood empty, and not even a film of ash lay within. In the center of the room was a table with many sides; each of them had three seats, but the side with its back to the fireplace held only two, both ornately carved with faces of beasts and men. The doors swung open, as if perfectly coordinated by an unseen force, and from each door came three people, each dressed in dark colors, blue, black or brown, men and women alike. It was hard to tell these faces apart from one another, but on the lapels of their shirts were different pins or ornaments according to whichever door they came from.

         They all drew up to the table, eyes downcast at their feet, hands on the backs of their seat. The fireplace opened, silent as death. From within came two people, a man and a woman on his arm. Each had a huge shaggy dog next to them who each wore a wide leather belt for a collar. They sat in the big chairs, and everyone else sat down as well.

         Everything was silent. No one moved, all eyes were on the fireplace couple. They had no pin, no ornament and their blonde hair was pulled back, lips smiling, eyes dark and shining.

         “Welcome friends,” The man began, crossing his hands into a steeple, “I have called our organizations together to discuss some very… intimate details of some rather touchy issues that have been transpiring whilst myself and my dear Frieda were away on official business.” A man stood up, slamming his hands down on the table as he did.

         “Bardalph! You left us, no warning whatsoever, to fend for ourselves in this bestial society! We had to do something!” The man at the head of the table glared at the up-stander, who withered under his gaze. Frieda giggled and stroked the dog next to her,

         “Oh Channin, you always were one to jump into the fray without reserve or patience, you must have known we would never leave you all here without a course of action.” She stood up, walking around the table, touching each of the ones she passed lightly on the shoulder like a deadly game of duck-duck-goose, until she came to a man almost directly across from the fireplace. “Dearest Oakland would never have disregarded our orders and done something… stupid? Would he?” The woman and man who sat next to the man known as Oakland vacated their seat, opting to stand against the wall behind instead. Frieda fingered his ornament, an open circle with an arrow through it, before removing it and setting it on the table.

         “You did remember to give our orders to your messengers and send them to everyone else yes?” The man’s eyes were wide, pupils shrunk to nothing in his sockets when his trembling voice uttered,

         “N-no, I d-did not send out your c-command.” Frieda ran her fingers through his hair, shaking her head in disappointment so that the golden curtain swept across his ear. Bardalph narrowed his eyes at Oakland; the man was falling to pieces in front of everyone.

         “Frieda!” She stopped mid-stroke, dropped her hands and looked at her partner, whose grim face told her everything she needed. He spoke again, “Oakland here, he was supposed to send his messengers out to each of you, explaining in great detail what needed to be done.” He stood up, hands clasped behind his back, walking slowly about the table. “In the neglect of his duties as a leader, Marseille will be the new leader of the messengers.” The woman against the wall nodded firmly as she visibly paled.

“Our message was clear, we would purchase the strip of land betwixt our sister city and the Washington Oregon border, assimilate the cities we could and begin work on the new breeds.” He stopped on the other side of Oakland. “Now we are set back Oakland, so the preparations I have made are WASTED!” He roared into Oakland’s ear, he flinched and closed his eyes, breathing fast. Bardalph turned on the rest of them, eyes flashing dangerously.

“ALL OF YOU! IF I FIND EVEN ONE MORE OF YOUR MUTTS ON THE FACE OF THIS PLANET I SWEAR I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL WITH MY BARE HANDS! NOW GET OUT!” Oakland scrambled form his chair, careening for the door Marseille and the other man had exited through when Frieda grabbed him by the collar of his coat, flinging him onto the table, his ornament clattered to the floor, the last sound Oakland heard as the doors swung shut.



Bardalph wiped his hands on his red silk shirt, now torn in such a way that his torso was fully exposed. Scars riddled his body, up sideways and across from shoulder to hip, no doubt there were many more. Frieda was waiting patiently by the dogs, which were cowering by the fireplace.

“Tell the Phelan to get in here and clean this up. They would enjoy the privilege.” He walked out of the room, taking the dogs with him. Frieda looked at the place where Oakland had sat, sighed and left through the door on the side of the fireplace that only she and Bardalph knew of. The Phelan were down there, just waiting to be worthy of joining the ranks.

She has a few favorites, those who fell into the idea that they could very well be servants for the rest of their lives and were willing to do as they were told. Sometimes, as a reward, they would be given new names and titles, given their freedom as it may be, in exchange to be loyal and obedient when away from their masters. She ran her fingers over the rough walls; they’d been carved right out of the stone, shaped like trees, people and animals, a history of the organization written where almost none could see it.

She laughed to herself. Even the stonemasons were told that when they were done, consider themselves Phelan fodder. But they taught their trade to a younger candidate and came to work with pride and honor. What fools. As lambs to an alter, they would sacrifice themselves as tradition calls for without a second thought. Of course, they who would refuse the offer end up the same way without the glory of knowing the great history.

Frieda’s eyes narrowed, she was always the one who had to weed out the ones who were defiant, send them into the Pits, listen to them scream or fight until all is silent again. She enjoyed lining them up, sending them in one by one, forcing them to listen to one another as they died; sometimes they died of fear before even entering the pit.

At the end of the tunnel was the elevator; technology had replaced the ancient keyset from use, as well as the open grate system. Now there was a hand scanner, retinal decoder and inside the doors was a combination keypad. Should you get it wrong twice, the ceiling comes down, crushing the intruder mercilessly.

Unceremoniously Frieda walked in, scan, scan, tapped some keys and went even deeper into the earth. She could only imagine what could be on the other side of the steel walls, perhaps the bones of dinosaurs or long buried bodies from the times of Indians, pioneers and cowboys. The deeper she went, the more at peace she felt, the turmoil of the organization, the wasted time spent with Bardalph while he was busy ruminating and changing over his plans went away. She never got what she wanted, not from him anyway, she had to go out and get it herself.

The Phelan were another matter altogether, the traditional role that her predecessors had taught to her had been their role as well. It was her duty as Bardalph’s partner to pick the Phelan.  At first, she tried to make them as strong, obedient and the best possible, but as time went on, it got to be hopeless as Bardalph and the others rejected almost everyone she brought to them.

From then on, whenever a truck of Phelan came, she told them that the only way for them to live is to do it whichever way they could. A buzzer rang when she entered the Phelan’s tunnels, it would turn on all of the best highlights of when she’d been gone, who died, and who gave up, or who killed. It also printed off the stats of the training facilities showing her who spent the most time pushing their body’s limits. She smiled, last week, a couple of Phelan had come in, they were sickly, weak people who were not imposing whatsoever, looking again, they are twins, a girl and a boy, but you could never tell.

They had crafted a poison from the rotting bone marrow in the feed dropped to all of the Phelan. Short spikes protruding from some gloves, probably made from either stone or bone, capped their knuckles and the poison was on these spikes. It was in this way that Frieda chose to tip the scales and have the bones removed from any food. It seems that they had adapted, using something that proved to be even more potent.

She watched the monitor following them over the past week; they were tandem, never apart for any time, mentally tormenting those who would have killed them otherwise and they had gathered a small spatter of followers as well. She sent e-mail to Darius, he would benefit from having these two as assassins or personal attendants. Well, maybe not as attendants.

Not too many were fighting her will though, only about ten of the rebels were still alive, they were very fit as far as their bodies went and in their old lives, had been people of power. They had been gathering one or two people every truckload, but getting smaller and smaller the longer they were in the Phelan tunnels. Special commands from the monitor grabbed them at convenient intervals by trapping them in dead ends or falling through the floor through invisible trap doors.

Only 3 this week though, it was a pity because she was running out of Pit fodder. Searching the compound, she found the rebels gathered in one spot. How ideal. Keying in some coding and commands, the walls shut them off in an instant, she watched through the cameras how they scrambled to escape. One got out, the supposed leader but it can be remedied eventually. Two of them became crushed by not making it through the door on time; the rest fell through into the chutes to the waiting area.

Frieda took her time; the graduated Phelan would be chaining them up, pushing them to the waiting line. She wrote the weekly report, selected a few of them to be brought out for the monthly choosing and went to the Pit. Bardalph would reprimand her for not trying harder, but he never complained about having compliant Phelan. Looking back at the monitor, she held the intercom to her lips,

“Lyle, Raul, Villi, come to the hall where the stalactites touch the water. If anyone else follows you, they will be killed.” These three had been in the tunnels for six months; they were ready to be introduced to their newest role.



“Celia, wake up,” I smiled and burrowed deeper under the covers, mom would come into the bed and tickle me soon, I knew it. “Celia, don’t make me come under there.” I opened my eyes; her face is bright, her angelic smile wide and blonde hair shimmering in the morning sun.

“Hi mommy, what are you doing?” She wrapped me in a hug; we’re standing outside our big house in the country in the hot summer storm. I looked up at her, was it the rain or tears that fell onto my face? I ran down the street where I saw my mom, crossing the road with arms full of groceries.

“NO! MOMMY!” She looked at me, waved at me, turned and welcomed the truck that killed her. I fell to my knees, the concrete rushed to greet me and I shot up! The room is brightly lit, I am in a strange bed, and the covers, the sheets, walls, lights and my cloths are white. I caught my breath, the only nightmare I could possibly have while I’m in a hospital would have been about my mom.

“Hello?” I called, my voice didn’t echo at all; the walls stared down at me. What happened? I threw back the covers, my leg is bare, and the other is encased in plaster casting and metal contraptions. That’s when I noticed the tubes in my arms, the diodes on my head, neck and chest, the monitors in the wall beeping. I ripped the diodes off, the skin tugged but the glue was weak, the tubes were a different story altogether, I remember having an IV drip when I got dehydrated, I pulled them out quickly, but carefully and threw them as far from me as possible.

Why am I in a gown?! Who did this to me?! I groaned in frustration, my leg was strapped down to the bed and the people who did this could be back any second! The metal contraption was for moving my ankle, right now it’s locked in place, I could walk on it if I have to, but the rest of the cast is unnecessary, but that’s how I’m locked down. Straps were molded into the cast, went under the bed and locked somewhere down there; I’d have to be a contortionist to get free!

I still have to try I guess, so I tried pulling my torso down to my knee, I felt stiff and weak, the muscles wouldn’t release like normal, I pulled harder, reaching under my prison bed for whatever could be locking me in place. It was a long Velcro strap! I yanked the first one and felt enormous pressure being lifted from my leg! There were only two, the other was closer than the one I’d just opened and I was out! I swung my legs over the edge, the cast clanked against the metal bars of the bed; my feet touched the cool floor, smooth, ceramic tiles that melded perfectly with one another.

Where is the door to this place? I mean, there’s the monitors, but somewhere, there has to be a door. I walked to the wall, well, hobbled more like, touching the soft walls. It was like a very firm mattress, the kind where you don’t get a lot of spring or jump into it. I went around the room, the bed was at the center, oddly enough, the tubes ran right into the floor and the screens were set into the wall. I must have gone around the room three times before my ankle started to throb.

“Hello! Whoever is in charge here! I have some things that need to be taken care of in the real world where a nurse would be around when someone wakes up!” I yelled at the ceiling, it seemed like a good idea, especially if god were watching, he’d help me for sure.

“Srovent Faelyn.” I spun around to face the voice, a man with black hair stood in the doorway of a brightly lit hall, his blue shirt and black slacks made him look like a TV soap opera star. I crossed my arms, that door was NOT there a minute ago!

“My name is Celia, thanks for my ankle and everything, but I have to go find my dad cuz his crazy wife shot him and he might not be dead, plus I need my cloths and backpack so I can get out of here.” He stood there, hands in his pockets, smiling crooked with one corner higher than the other. What was his problem?

I walked towards the doorway, whether he could understand me or fulfill my needs was irrelevant, I still had to get going, and who knows where Karen might be? She could be searching hospitals for me right now. He blocked my path with an outstretched arm, smile gone; his blue eyes were cold and steely.

“I did not say you could go Faelyn.” I scowled at him, he can’t keep me here. I pushed his arm out of the way, walking out into the hallway,

“First off, my name is Celia, second, I have things to do! My dad isn’t dead so I have to find him! I need cloths so I have to find them too! What kind of hospital has attendants like you anyway?” I looked over my shoulder; he was standing in the door looking bewildered. I shrugged and kept walking down the hall; there are a lot of doors but at the end was some of those double doors with glass in them. Maybe my stuff was kept in check-in.

“Stop!” That guy was yelling at me, he’s not a cop, he’s not my dad, and so I kept going. “Faelyn! Come back here! Now!” I turned back to face him,

“MY NA-“ I was yelling into his chest, he was right there. He looked really angry. “Well, I already told you, I can’t stay here anymore, I don’t even know what day or time it is, nice to meet you, but I need to go.” I turned again, this time, his arm went across my whole body, pinning my arms to my sides and he wrapped his other arm around my legs. “HEY! Put me down!” I yelled and wriggled the whole 50 feet back to the bed, he pushed me down, I scratched at his face and tried to kick him but his arm was too long for anything to work.

“You can not leave Faelyn. And you will do as you’re told.” A long strap was pulled up over my waist; I felt it tighten firmly when the man pulled on it.

“Hey, don’t do that!” He looked at me, eyebrow cocked; I swung my fist at his cocky face, connecting with his offensive brow. A small trickle of blood ran down his face, I glared at him; he touched his temple and glared at me. I reached to undo the strap across my waist and he grabbed my wrist, pinning it above my head on the hospital bed.

“Do. Not. Try. To. Leave. Do as you’re told!” His face was so close to mine, the smell of blood drifted to me, as did his salami sandwich breath. I inhaled the earthy scent, closing my eyes while my head spun. This is so wrong… I didn’t even noticed when he pinned my hands down with Velcro, reattached the ones from the cast and new ones on my other leg, I couldn’t even lift my shoulders from the bed, I was staring at the ceiling, dazed.

“Wait… Don’t go yet, I have to tell you something!” I yelled at the man, he had been walking away, but turned back, interest piqued. “Yeah, it’s a secret, come here and I’ll whisper it to you!” He walked back; the blood from me punching him was dry already, flaking off. He leaned in towards me, “Closer,” He knelt, inches from my face, “I want to whisper in your ear…” He turned his head, eyes facing away from my lips, I leaned up just a little more, “I like,” he came even closer, “the taste of blood.”

He tried to jerk away, but I was too fast, I bit down on his ear and shook my head back and forth, hot blood gushing from his head and through my teeth! The flavor was sour, like ancient rotten fruit and I heard him yelling, pulling away and tearing his ear! I felt blood run down the sides of my face, into the gown, his fists had to be slamming on something too, probably my body somewhere. Too bad, he won’t be getting his ear back unless he unties me!

Or maybe he’ll punch me in the jaw, knocking my face away, making me open up like popcorn in a microwave. I laughed, licking my lips clean of the sweet nectar of life. He was holding his ear to his head, blood was still gushing out, I’m sure he wanted to curse me, curse at me, hurt me. Maybe I’m insane and I imagined all of that stuff with my dad and Karen, maybe my mom isn’t dead either? Maybe I imagined a truck hit her? But I was drunk from the fresh inflicted wound on his head, twice I drew blood, twice I drank it.

“Am I a cannibal?” My glee quickly evaporated, leaving an empty sense of being. The man looked at me, people were coming in now, and they wore gray shirts, dingy, like they used to be white. One of them stitched up the man’s ear while he sat in the provided chair. “I mean, that’s the second time I got off on sucking someone like a vampire, I think that’s bad.” Fear was creeping into the corners of my mind, I could feel the claws sinking in, filling me with uncertainties and worry. “Oh my god… Did I kill someone? Was I a serial killer or something? No way, I can’t be! I know that’s not what I do, I’ve never even tasted blood since the day Karen shot my dad!” I must have kept babbling, the gray people kept looking at me so I must have been doing something and then suddenly they were gone, the door was gone and the man was sitting on the bed, stroking my bare leg.

“STOP THAT!” I pulled against the Velcro, but no good, if it weren’t three feet long, I may have stood a semblance of a chance against it. When I stopped struggling his hands were crossed in his lap. I looked at his ear, the stitches looked like very tiny bugs creeping across the flesh. “Why were you touching me?” When was the last time this guy said anything useful… He pulled his sleeve back, checking the time; the green silk fell gently, noiselessly when he crossed his hands again.

“I can do what I want. You will listen to me, only me, and no one else despite what they say or do to you. You belong to me.” His eyes are dark, black or brown maybe, shoulder length blonde hair shook loose from my attack, and I wonder if he was Mediterranean or just had a good tan. He reached out and ran his fingers over the sticky blood on my face even though I pulled away from his hand. I had no idea what this loon wanted, but he wasn’t going to get anything out of me! I watched him roll his sleeves up, he snapped his fingers and some gray people wheeled in a cart and left just as fast.

“I don’t have to listen to anyone but my dad.” He reached into a bowl, wrung a cloth out and started to wash away his blood from my face. I bit at his hands! I don’t need his help! He dropped the cloth back into the tub. Crossed his arms. And waited.

I can play that game too. I busied myself with my surroundings. My arms pinned down, my chest, waist, legs, feet pinned down. The ceiling seamlessly white, bright and identical to the walls. Hey look, a freckle on my hand! It’s a dot, circular, and the size of a pinhead! How exciting! I sighed,

“I won’t bite you. Do whatever you want. Just, untie me when you’re done.” He smiled, greasy, slime-ball smile as he scrubbed the dry blood off.

“You shouldn’t bite the only person who wants you alive. If you bite me again, I have people who would teach you to behave, but I’d much rather use my own tactics.” He grinned at me. I lay there, poker face. His grin faded. The only noise was the sound of water wrung from the cloth.

“Why am I tied down to the bed?” I asked after a long period of him watching me and doing and saying nothing. “I said I wouldn’t bite you but you had to untie me. That was the deal.” He laughed, a mocking bark that could have been pulled from an audio track from a bad cartoon.

“I don’t make deals with my Phelan! You are misguided in your idea of where you stand!” He leaned in, holding my hand in both his, like I was dying and he was giving me guidance or something. “You obey me, not the other way around. Now tell me your place here.” He sat there, waiting. I wasn’t about to play his game.

“I am Celia, I am a teenager who is entitled but not limited to the use of any amount of the following behavioral tendencies, tantrums, yelling, screaming, crying, defying, lying…” My list grew endless and his grip on my hand tightened until I didn’t feel my fingers anymore, “henceforth dated July 13th of said year of my birth.” I smiled brightly at the very furious man in his green silk.

He threw his chair across the room, shattering the wood against the soft-ish walls. He started pacing and didn’t stop for a while. I heard a cell phone beep once or twice, but other than that, it was getting rather boring. I sighed; he hadn’t lasted too long as far as patience went which was pretty pathetic.

“Alright,” he said, suddenly and creepily at the side of the bed, “I will untie you, and you will follow me to take care of your personal necessities and then I will continue to teach you.” The Velcro was ripped off the bed, I rubbed the sore strap marks across my bare leg, the cumbersome cast had provided protection at least and the metal contraption even more so.

“See? That’s a good deal!” I swung my legs over the bed, hopped down to the floor and walked dutifully after the man, he somehow found and opened a closet, my pack, cloths and shoes were in there, clean, folded and ready to wear. He reached in and threw my stuff at me; I eagerly hugged the familiar fabrics and spread them over the bed. I would wear my blue tee, my favorite running hoodie and then my skater jeans that would fit over the giant cast.

“What are you waiting for? Give a girl some privacy?” The man crossed his arms and leaned against the wall with his head turned. I crossed my arms and leaned against the bed. Tick tock tick tock tick tock tick tock ti-

“FINE!” He stormed out of the room through the same door he’d entered and it slid closed behind him. I happily donned my favorites and knocked on the wall, ready to leave this place behind.  To my surprise, the wall slid open and he was outside fuming. I bounded over clumsily,

“I’m ready to go now!” He turned hard and punched my jaw I yelped, not expecting the sudden outburst of violence, “What the hell!?” He yanked me back up from the floor and hissed at me,

“I am in charge! You will speak unless I ask you something! Break my rules and I will break you!” I yanked my arm out of his once again surprised grip and rubbing my jaw, I felt the lump rising.

“I am not some sort of servant! You’re going to take me out of this demented hospital and I’m leaving!” We stood in that stalemate for a time, I knew he could very easily try to pick me up and tie me down in that white room. Did he know I had my knife sheathed in my sleeve? He swung his fist at me again, I ducked, he kicked and connected with my ribcage, how long before the cops showed up? I was curled up into a coughing, hacking ball of pain when he yanked me upright again, my legs felt weak, my bones rattled, and I wasn’t into pain at all.

“You are not Faelyn like everyone thinks, you are still a lowly Phelan! And Phelan ARE servants!” He lifted me into the air higher, my feet dangling inches from the floor and my shoulder was being wrenched from its socket!

“Put me down please it hurts! Please! I don’t want my arm to get ripped off please please put me down!” I scrabbled in the air, trying to loosen his grip with my free hand but it was a steel trap on my forearm, his face gleaming with joy at my pain. I caught some momentum, my adrenaline pumped to my head and I swung my cast and metal encased leg into his chest. He dropped me, rubbed the place I had kicked.

“Why do you keep fighting my will?” I pushed against the wall, my right arm is hanging limp from the strain. This guy is acting like an adrenaline pump for me right now, I could use it but I couldn’t outrun him in this maze I’m in.

“I have my own will, I don’t need yours you bully!” He cocked his leg back, at this distance he was looking to break my arm, what is this hell?

“RANDY!” The kick never came, the green silk shirt, Randy it seemed, turned to face someone that could be described as none other than his twin! Except he was wearing white slacks instead of black. Strangely enough, I would much rather be stuck with Randy than this man whose tattered red shirt exposed endless ropes of scars. “Get away from Faelyn! If you had two goose worth of sense you would never have come back from exile!” Randy’s face turned into a snarl, his fists clenched and he turned on me again,

“I will be seeing you soon enough! Phelan!” He opened a door and disappeared into its dark corridor, voice echoing back as it closed, “As for you Bard! You can’t raise a leader from a Phelan before my time comes!” His slimy laugh came through the closed door, sending shivers down my spine. The new man, Bard, stopped at the door and just looked at it. Maybe he won’t notice me down here on the ground,

“Why does no one understand that my name is Celia and not Faelyn?” Stupid big mouth and you questions! I mentally kicked myself when Bard looked down at me, curled up and no doubt bruising like a lightweight stuck in the ring with the world champion boxer. His hand came towards me, I flinched, closed my eyes and waited to be punched or kicked. Instead, his hand wrapped over my shoulder and started to massage the pain away.

“I’m not a fan of my brother’s way of teaching, it makes it hard to nurture a unique mind that can help us grow.” I looked at his face, bright chocolate eyes and a soft frown completed the worrier’s look but the torn shirt was the only thing that threw it off as a complete feel. “Your question, Celia is gone, she never existed from the beginning, and Faelyn is, will be and always was your name.” He ran his hand down my arm, warm, soft, wanting me to trust him. I didn’t. I shouldn’t. I probably won’t.

“Can I go home now? I’m really tired of this already and not to bash on your hospitality, but kidnapping and drugging and beating isn’t my idea of helping someone who just almost got killed by a crazy woman.” His kind face saddened, but all the same he held my hand and helped me to my feet. He led me down the hall, to the double doors, we went through them and it was another hall. Were we underground?

“Faelyn,” “Celia.” “You can’t ever go back to that life,” He put his arm over my shoulder, fatherly like, “this is going to be your new life, where the person you truly are can be harnessed and trained to release its true potential.” I pulled out form under his arm, stopping at the next set of double doors.

“Sorry, but I didn’t ask to be whisked away from the life where I have responsibilities to take care of-”“Taken care of.” He walked us into a room with a few tables, papers and files set everywhere, each of them headlining the loss of a brilliant scientist and his daughter to a woman whose mental illness forced her to destroy everything. My jaw dropped.

“I can still go back, they will know I’m alive, that I was hiding or something!” I fell against the bench, sitting down on the smooth surface. Bard reached into his pocket, pulled out a small bottle and rattled it. it sounded like there was only one tiny thing inside. “What is that?” I watched him put it back into his pocket and he sat down across from me.

“Let me see your ankle, I heard that it was injured during your extraction.” He lifted my leg; the cast protected the injury from moving, so it didn’t hurt. He rolled the pant leg up, exposing the metal frame. “I dislike my brother for his callous ways, especially because he doesn’t give anyone a chance to learn. I’ve given you two chances to get the answer to this question correct. The prize for the right answer is this pill in my pocket.”

“I’m not a junkie, what do I need any pills for?” He shook his

He grabbed a piece of the metal and asked me, “What is your name?” I automatically told him,

“CeliAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!” He had cranked the metal, turning my broken ankle, albeit at a natural angle, but broken! The cast on my leg stopped me from reaching him; he used it to hold me in place too! I scrabbled against the bench, tried to pull away from the pain shooting up my leg and spine! I felt my teeth against my tongue, oh god, I was going to bite my tongue off!