Arden’s Mission: Scifi Alien Adventure Romance (Science Fiction Alien Romance) (Galactic Survival Book 2) Page 4

  Only moments later, Ethrans began to flood the hall, all looking at her with shock and horror. They could not see what was hiding behind her, and she was the murderer in their eyes.

  “You’re not safe!” She cried, frantically closing her eyes so that no more Ethrans would be slain at her feet. She knew that somewhere in the crowd, Arden stood confused and afraid. She wanted him to hold her and take her far away, but something much sinister was holding her now.

  “Zipporah!” Arden screamed, ripping to the front of the crowd. She picked his voice out of the sea of voices around her, knowing its tone better than anything on the planet. She stood petrified, knowing that if she even opened her eyes for the slightest second, her dream would crumple to the floor and die.

  “What has happened?” He asked her softly. He knew she had not done such a thing, but he wondered why she was standing alone with her eyes snapped shut.

  “There’s something behind me,” She breathed shakily. As she knew they would, the nails of her captor sunk into her flesh once more, and brought hot, sticky blood to the surface of her skin. She bit her lip, refusing to scream and refusing to open her eyes.

  “Get them all out. Now!” She cried, throwing her hand out towards the direction of the crowd. She felt the warmth of Arden’s light retreat away from her, and she was alone with the creature from hell.

  Chapter Four

  Zipporah was beaten, bruised, and kidnapped. She was taken far away from her new allies and packed into a cold, dark room like an inanimate object. She spent two days, by her calculation, starving and shivering in the dark. There was nothing to be seen—only the cold metal beneath her body. She hadn’t heard a peep from her captors, and wondered if they had decided to let her die.

  She thought, for almost the entire forty eight hours, about how ridiculous it was that she was even still alive. She tried to convince herself that she was lucky to have made it this far. But there was something deep inside of her soul that was screaming, and clawing at the walls of her heart to break free.

  On the start of the third day, Zipporah heard her first noise since being thrown into the cold, metallic room she was in. It was a low hissing noise, coming from her right ear. She trained her ear on that noise and listened intently, hoping that if it continued long enough, it would turn her to insanity. Then she wouldn’t care what happened.

  “Human,” the slippery voice slid around Zipporah’s ears. She shivered, hearing her first word in several days. It was not a welcome sound.

  “If you’re going to kill me, just do it now. Or I’ll kill myself. I won’t help you end an entire civilization.”

  Without warning, the voice that had been coming from her right ear, began to shift around and harden in the air. A few shapes took translucent form around her, and filled in with a dark purple color. A shiver ran down her spine as a face materialized before her eyes. It was nearly nothing more than a gaping hole with piercing red eyes and a pointed nose. Zipporah jerked back at the sight of this monster.

  Zipporah had been trained in alien sensitivity. She was very aware that all aliens looked differently, and she was used to seeing some very different things. But she had never seen something so grotesquely horrifying that she had to look away. She had never seen something that struck a lightning bolt of ice into her heart.

  “Now we are better acquainted, Human. I thought it would be fitting to introduce to you the species that you will be aiding in genocide. I am Iilor, a son of Rath.” The hissing quality of his voice was less profound when Zipporah could see him. She blinked twice before choosing the words to say to him.

  “And after you use me to commit genocide? What happens to me?” It might have been a selfish question, but Zipporah wanted to keep him talking for as long as possible. She thought perhaps that Arden would come from the sky and rescue her, however unlikely that was.

  “You die. And you will go down in Rath history as the greatest weapon known to the galaxies. Our gift to you.”

  Zipporah stared into the two red holes that served for his eyes, and showed him nothing. She was petrified. Inside, her body was trembling. But she showed nothing with her eyes. She knew that her fear would only fuel his drive. Her mind spun around, wondering if she should simply kill herself and let it end with her. They would have no one left from the human race to use as a tool of destruction. But if she killed herself, she also killed every soul that was perhaps still alive on Earth.

  “Stand up, Human.”

  She weakly got to her feet, using every ounce of energy in her body to hold herself upright. The beautiful gown she had been wearing was soiled, ripped, and stained. There was blood dried on her thighs, and she shuddered to think what happened to her when she was unconscious.

  “Why a human? Could it not be another extraterrestrial species?” She asked, her eyes like daggers.

  “All of our neighboring planets have incredibly complex defense mechanisms. Their bodies are suits of armor. We are evolved. Humans are fleshy—weak. If I make one bleed enough, it will die. Almost any blow delivered forcefully enough is fatal to a human. You are a simple species, and the universe is better without you.”

  Zipporah looked away and directed her eyes to the soft flesh on her arms, her legs, and belly. She was covered in warmth, but no protection. Iilor was right.

  “How many of you are there?” She asked, realizing that he was the only Rath she had seen thus far. He turned his head sharply and grinned a horrible grin. Pointed teeth were exposed and Zipporah’s blood turned to ice, waiting for him to say something catastrophic.

  “Seven.”

  Seven? That was it? She nearly laughed, but thought better of it. How did they expect to take over an entire planet with nothing but seven bodies and one weapon? She had no idea.

  “That is a high expectation you have set for yourself,” She said quietly, as not to anger him. She had been beaten and bruised enough for one lifetime. Iilor grinned again, as if he knew something she didn’t. Perhaps seven meant that there were seven battleships full of monsters just like him.

  “We are few in numbers, but lethal. Together, we will build a new world.” So she had been wrong. Not seven spaceships. Just seven Raths. If she could warn someone without them knowing, perhaps she could save the Ethrans after all.

  “Get dressed, girl. We have a party to go to.” Iilor threw a plain piece of cloth at Zipporah and stared at her while she pulled off her once exquisite dress to put the new garb on. It was scratchy to the touch, and wholly uncomfortable. She looked at herself in a tilted piece of glass and winced. She looked like a prisoner, and she was.

  “Who are you going to murder tonight?” She asked sharply, “What innocent life will you wipe out?”

  Iilor whipped around and put his face to Zipporah’s. His forehead touched hers, and the hot breath that came from his nostrils sickened her.

  “No life on Ethra is innocent. This isn’t murder, it is pest control.”

  Zipporah’s stomach churned once more as Iilor grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her from the dark room where she had been held captive.

  He all but dragged her down the dimly lit hallway, and pushed her towards and exit. She recognized that she was on a spaceship, and not on Ethra itself.

  “Take a deep breath, human.” Iilor’s grin flashed again. He took up Zipporah in his boney arms, and pressed a button that was in a language she couldn’t read. She felt a familiar sensation spread through her body, and she knew that she was about to watch herself dissolve into particles. Maybe I can end it here, she thought. She remembered thoroughly how the sensation filled her body, and she could escape at any moment.

  As her body disintegrated, Zipporah considered where she could run. She had nowhere to hide—no planet she could land on. Nothing to gravitate towards—as her life had dictated thus far.

  Iilor’s body seemed to stay relatively assembled, although the particles had separated, they still held his silhouette. Zipporah’s heart quickened as they raced towards Ethra
, intent on death. She could feel Iilor’s thoughts. He would seek out Arden first—the only one who would question Zipporah’s betrayal and perhaps even fight for her. It was the perfect plan. Zipporah would remain a murder and the Rath would never have to step into the light. They would protect Zipporah from the wrath of the Ethrans, and ensure that she saw each of them die before her eyes.

  They landed on Ethra silently, their bodies coming back together as if nothing had ever happened. Zipporah stared at Iilor, watching him survey the land. Something twisted inside of her belly and hot, sour vomit rose to her throat. Looking at him in the perfect light of Ethra made her sick. She doubled over and retched. Nothing could possibly have disgusted and horrified her more than the thought that she would be the vessel that the Rath would use to take the planet down.

  “Compose yourself, human,” Iilor snapped. “This is the easiest moment.”

  She bent her body upright, which felt unnatural, given the state of her stomach. Zipporah wanted to stay curved to the ground until she died.

  “Where to start?” He asked, clicking his fingers together. “There will be a mass tonight. Millions of Ethrans will be present. We can begin there. What do you think, pet?” He ran a boney finger around her jawline and brought his face uncomfortably close to hers. She jerked her face out of his grasp and set her gaze sharply ahead.

  “I think you’d be better off to kill me now.”

  “You will have your turn, human. In fact, when I’m done with you, you’ll beg for it.”

  Iilor took her by the arm and began to walk at a rapid pace. Zipporah’s feet could barely support his pace, and she stumbled behind him. He looked back at her, grinned sadistically, and began to move faster. She recognized where they were going—the crystal towers. That must be where the masses were gathering, she thought. What would he do? Put her on display before them all? Have his six other Raths shoot down the Ethrans in human form? What horrors did he have planned for these docile creatures?

  ****

  They were at the top of one of the crystal towers. There was a thick piece of cloth over Zipporah’s eyes, keeping her from transforming the Ethrans into human form and giving them away. Iilor was invisible, affording the same effect. He kept a tight grip on Zipporah’s arm, alerting her that he was still present and that she had nowhere to go. Below her was a planet full of people who despised her. Beside her was a creature who would kill her once he had finished with the rest.

  “It seems we have some time to spare,” Zipporah said casually—almost conversationally. “Perhaps you could tell me why you need the Ethrans dead.”

  Iilor chuckled darkly. His grip loosened on her arm as he prepared to tell a tale that would last longer than time. He put his fingers to her temples and she closed her eyes. A story unfolded in her mind, weaving a tapestry.

  She saw the creation of the universe. It was dark, and there were two planets very close to one another. One was blue, and looked very much like the Earth. Only cleaner, and more pure. The other was a dark purple color, and Zipporah wondered what aspect of nature would allow a planet to be a color such as that. It was only to be assumed that the planets were Ethra and Rath.

  The pace of the story quickened. She saw the rise of the Ethrans as a race, and the rise of the Rath. They seemed to balance each other out. While the Ethrans were light, the Raths were darkness. Neither good nor evil. Good intentions to begin with, entwined with greed. Zipporah saw the Ethrans march on Rath, shining out even the shadows of the planet. Raths withered and died before her eyes under the scrutiny of the purest light. Assumedly, only the seven survived. Three females and four males, as the vision described. Their planet had been destroyed. Torn apart and scattered into stardust, the last seven Raths in existence were forced to live invisibly in the shadows. Plotting, brewing hatred, and planning on delivering that hatred in a brutal blow. They had been waiting for Zipporah since the day she was born. They watched her grow up among the Ethrans. They knew who she would become. They knew that she should have been the one to bring the Earth back from the darkness they had brought upon it.

  “It was you!” Zipporah cried, ripping her head away from Iilor’s fingers. “Raths brought their darkness to Earth! That’s why the Ethrans attacked you. You forgot to leave that out.” The hatred she already felt for him multiplied, and she considered removing the blindfold from her eyes and warning every Ethran in existence that she was near. Allow them to kill her. Let it be done.

  “Would that have changed anything?” Iilor asked, suddenly softening. Zipporah looked at him harshly through her blindfold, knowing now who exactly was responsible for her unsurmountable loss.

  “Why?” She lamented. “Why would you do that?”

  “It wasn’t me, Zipporah. I was insignificant on Rath before the Ethrans struck. In fact, many of us were opposed to the covering of the Earth. But it weakened the Ethrans. That was the most important thing.”

  That was the first time he had called her by her name, like she was an actual being in the world. Not just his slave or play thing.

  “But they will all die if I don’t save them,” she pleaded. “Please! The Earth has done nothing to Rath.”

  “No.” His voice hardened again and his hand went back to her arm, digging into it ferociously. Zipporah felt a wall slam down, and she was no longer allowed to see Iilor as a being with a past and feelings. Not that any of that mattered to her anyway. She was just looking for a way to escape from his sick revenge fantasy.

  “It’s time,” Iilor informed her. Zipporah felt the cloth pulled from her eyes, and she turned to look at Iilor before facing the crowd of Ethrans. Biting her instincts, she reached a hand out and touched his ghoulish face softly.

  “You have the opportunity to be better than they were. I know you don’t want to do this. There is something sacred in all of us. Including you. Don’t bathe that in the blood of innocents.”

  Something flashed in his red eyes—recognition. His hand touched hers softly, and for a moment he looked like he would collapse. Zipporah took his moment of weakness to pull him forward and close her eyes once again, wrapping her arms around his tall body. She tried to share all of the love she had in her heart with him—to change the heinous thing he wanted to do. To change who he had become. Sickness twisted up her stomach as her arms clutched onto his boney body, but she held fast, giving him everything she had.

  “No one has ever touched me so,” he whispered into her hair. Something in some part of her heart melted for him. He had been through exactly what she had, but she knew that there was a better choice for him.

  “Stop the attack,” She replied. “I can help you.”

  Iilor pulled back from their embrace and stared at her for a moment, looking so raw that his soul could have been bleeding.

  “Zipporah!” A voice cried from the open door of the room they were standing in. Her head snapped to the startling call of her name to see Arden standing there, out of breath and horrified.

  “Wait!” Zipporah screamed, turning back to Iilor to find the rage and lunacy had filled him again. She felt his arms constrict around her body, his pain and compassion melting away into fury and hatred.

  “No,” she begged, gripping him tighter. “Not him. No. Please! I beg you!”

  Iilor vanished, his arms still tight around her. Arden looked around, startled and thoroughly afraid.

  “Arden, run!” Zipporah cried, closing her eyes. “Warn them all!”

  Arden stared at her for a moment, realizing something was happening to her body before she did. Suddenly, a pain erupted from her chest that made her fall to the floor in shrieking agony. Iilor was dragging a knife across her chest, just shallowly enough not to kill her. She clawed at his hands, but he was strong and unmovable. It felt as if he was writing something into her skin.

  Arden lurched forward, to Zipporah’s horror. Iilor was luring him in. She closed her eyes again, transforming him back to his true form. Her screams rang through the ears of every being in the
tower. They pierced the air and changed the winds.

  “Zipporah, open your eyes! I can’t help you like this!”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say a word, but she kept her eyes squeeze shut. Iilor would have to cut her eyelids off if he wanted to murder Arden.

  “Get out!” She managed to gasp in between her blood curdling screams. She could feel the light of Arden’s true form pouring down over her skin. He was very near to her, and Iilor couldn’t do a thing about it.

  “What is Iilor?” Arden breathed, scraping his eyes painfully across the bleeding wounds on Zipporah’s chest. Her heart dropped as she realized that Iilor had carved his name into her chest. He hadn’t intended to kill her. Just to show that she belonged to him.

  “Open your eyes, human.” Iilor commanded, but Zipporah resisted, despite the pain that overwhelmed every sense. She would not allow Arden to fall victim to his heinous scheme.

  After a few moments, the light she felt on her skin faded and she knew Arden had left. Her heart dropped as she felt him withdraw, wondering if she would ever see him again.