This is from chapter seven.
Cara ran for her life. For her sanity. Her feet crunched over
debris scattered in the hallway. Broken glass, drywall and other garbage that
had been there for years that no one had cleaned up. She took the path through
the middle of it, scanning for something big enough to use as a weapon. It was
all too small.
Some of it looked like white shards of bone. Oh god. She couldn’t
think about that. Not now. Couldn’t stop or she’d fall apart into a million
pieces of horror.
Getting away, finding some kind of a quick end in death had been
her only goal since getting caught. Her father had told her what those ugly,
rubber-armed werewolves would do to a woman. She’d never doubted him. It didn’t
matter that there were no other people around who’d survived encountering them
that could tell the stories.
She was done for. But she would decide how she ended. Not them.
Never them. No one could take away the right to decide her own destiny. She
wouldn’t let them.
The base commander was an unexpected sight. She’d heard of him,
too. None of it good. The black-eyed bald turquoise suckers rarely left their
safe little alien-base strongholds.
Her senses went weird at
first sight of him, head spinning. All she knew about his kind were the stories
of grieving, frightened families made up when their people didn’t return home
after an encounter with his kind. He was worse than the
muzzle-heads.
Dad had called the spoty blue-green guys city-destroyers.
She had to get to that door at the back of the building, or
better yet, find something she could use to impale herself. There was no choice
but to escape whatever he had planned for her, one way or another.
Head throbbing from the earlier attempts to knock the life from
her body, she ran as fast as she could. The more distance between herself and
the city destroyer, the easier it was to think.
The hallway went like he said, but she knew enough about the
building ahead of time to know he wasn’t lying about that. Broken fluorescent
lighting overhead and her frantic, oxygen deprived brain added to the sense
that everything looked the same. Mazelike. The old classrooms were missing
their numbers. She couldn’t tell if she’d gone far enough. Had she gotten to
the part of the building where the old playgrounds were?
Two open-doored rooms held nothing but single tables. Somewhat
clean compared to the hall. No exits. Nothing to stab herself with.
Should she jump headfirst off a table?
She couldn’t afford to be knocked out. She couldn’t afford to
survive. Not after smelling the monster. Not after he touched her and made
her…feel.
Her nipples throbbed with every bounce of her chest, and her
pussy had swollen up, freaking slick between her thighs. Why had she reacted to
him that way? Why was she still reacting?
There was this nagging, terrible urge to run back to him so that
she could sneak another sniff of his exotic scent.
He’d drugged her. Like a snake or a slime coated salamander or a
sneaky poison mushroom. With just his touch on her bare skin, something
hallucinogenic sank into her blood stream. That must be it. That could be the
only reason for the baffling things popping into her head.
Touch me. Stroke me. Feel me. Want me. Fuck me. None of
those thoughts came from her.
The alien’s resemblance to
humanoid ended at his general shape and clothing. He was taller than any man
she’d ever seen, muscled and well proportioned, but the rest was all wrong. It
was as if, on some foreign evolutionary scale, he’d started from a very
different creature than she had.
He lacked human hair, eyebrows, decent eyelashes, although his
skin looked velvet soft to the touch. He had strange plates and ridges on his
face and what looked like extra bones in his neck and hands. His mouth was full
of alligator teeth—a thing of nightmares.
Door. Door. What had he said? She opened one on her right. Saw
nothing inside but darkness.
Keep going. There had to be something.
He was counting. She was running. Cara had to escape whatever it
was he had planned.
What should happen next?
OPTION 1: Cara encounters another escaping prisoner in the
hallway, one who has been held a long time but who has used the distraction of
her presence to break out of his holding cell…
OPTION 2: Cara opens another door in her escape attempt to find
her weapon of self-destruction.
Want to read more? Check out the first chapter written in the comander's point of view. HERE.
