Page 16 of His Curse
Twenty-three souls left in limbo.
Their dreams shattered, countless other lives ruined.
I could go on and on, tell the stories of each one of these poor sweet spirits, share everything I learned, everything they shared with me and tried to connect over. Socializing has never been frowned upon, it's almost encouraged because Kentworth likes watching the different species interact. He likes watching how we all mingle despite our vast differences and slight similarities.
He has always enjoyed watching hiselite—the morespecial,extraordinary creatures—adapt to captivity; likes watching us learn to deal with things in new and unusual ways; likes that we formed bonds and our version of a pack because we needed it in order to survive.
And Kentworth likes it just as much when he plucks one of us from the pack to run his tests until their body can no longer handle it; until he ends their life and forces us to adapt, to cope, yet again.
I'm sure he's no different, probably even worse, with the rest of the creatures of mysticism he keeps separated from us over on East Hall. They’rebottom tierin Kentworth's opinion, so I’m sure they’re subjected to far worse than those of us on the West Hall.
Until now.
Then my heart starts to race and I force myself to scan the bodies again.
I search the dead frantically, my eyes darting from one face to the next, burning this image into my mind as I search for the two males I hope I don't find.
Wes, Bella's divined, and Hotah, Chumani's mate.
And thank the gods, I don't see either one of them.
But that makes sense, we're all parts of thebigger picture,after all.
The mated couples were forced to do horrible things, terrible, degrading things in the name of scientific research, and Dr. Kentworth doesn't like to give them up unless he has to.
If he has it his way, he never will.
That mad scientist willnevergive up the first sorceress he's been able to get his grubby little hands on, won't give up her divined because he’s not only her mate and she’d die without him but Wes is the first banshee to be sighted in seventy-five years. Bella and her male are safe for now, just like Chumani and Hotah. Kentworth definitely won't give up the recently mated wolf couple, especially now that she's with young; a young conceived out of love but forced by circumstance. No, he won't give any of them up because they're too valuable, their situations are too unique and unheard of inside this hell for him to risk their deaths. And given their current status, they would be a waste ofvaluable researchif Kentworth didn’t protect them at all costs, even if it means they’re subject to the unspeakable in the meantime.
And while I know, without any doubt, that the four of them truly are safe until that sorry excuse of a doctor is through with them, I still needed to be sure those two males weren’t laid out here among the rest of the bastard’s most recentpurge.
And I thank the gods I don't have to tell my friends I was forced to cremate their mates.
Their mates that are shoved out the door I just walked through a few minutes later, then lined up next to me by North Hall's much larger day guards.
Both males stare straight ahead, they don't speak, don't even flinch, but I can see Hotah's eyes as they shift just a bit.
He’s just as relieved to see me as I am to see them, just as relieved to see their females aren't laid out before us.
"Now,” Dick starts as he walks around to face us. "I wasn't planning on giving the little bitch any help, but since she just finished almost a month in the Box, Dr. Kentworth ordered it. Something about her not having the strength to do this on her own, yada yada. So the three of you are going to work together as efficiently as possible to get this done, and as I said before, if you do this without a fight, you will be rewarded."
Our hands and feet are freed, but mine and Hotah's collars are tightened until the sharp iron edge on the inside almost touches our throats, and they keep Wes's mask on as usual, but tighten it over his mouth so his jaw barely opens.
Not to mention, they also have about forty guns trained on us, so yeah, we're not putting up a fight. After walking out to a mass execution, I don’t think we’d really have it in us anyway.
"You get four hours to undress them, save the clothes that can be saved, say whatever bullshit prayers you need to say, dump their bodies into the crematorium one at a time, then make sure nothing is left before the next goes in.” Dick smiles like the piece of shit he is. "You don't stay on task, don't get this done then you”—he points to Wes and Hotah—“don't get to see your females for at least a week, and you”—he points to me—“go right back into the Black Box."
I am going tokillhim.
I'm going to kill Dick, shred him to pieces with my own two hands, then I’m going to stick what's left of him in the crematorium so his soul is stuck in limbo forever.
Scratch that.
Dick doesn't have a soul. I'll still burn what's left though, an asshole like him should have every trace of his existence wiped from the earth completely. And no soul means no way for Dick’s wretched heart to beat to life again inside another body.
"And since he is most kind...” Dick smiles again, his light eyes glinting in malice. “Dr. Kentworth says you are not only allowed to speak to each other while you work, but you also get a fifteen minute break at the two hour mark. You eat, you drink, you piss, then you get back to work. Got it?"
We all nod.
