Page 159 of Mated to Monsters
Still, it doesn’t help me solve my current mystery. Where am I now?
I remember, of course, the raid on my work camp. I’ll never forget that – that nightmare will be imprinted on my mind until the day I die.
Of course, that could be any day now. In many ways, I’m surprised it hasn’t come already. Sometimes, I think that I’d greet it eagerly.
Life under the dark elves was not easy, but somehow it only got worse. We were used to being forced to work nearly to death in the camp. I suppose once, young and naive, the women all would have agreed that nothing could be harder than that.
But then the demons came. They kidnapped us and forced us back to a strange floating island, hovering in the sky over Protheka. What they wanted us for, no one really knew. Torture seemed to be the only thing on their minds, and perhaps we were just the easiest targets.
We had been, for the dark elves, after all. Maybe the demons thought it was their turn. And it turned out that they proved one thing – what we considered suffering under the dark elves was only the beginning.
The demons, now they were the true experts of misery. Every day was cruelty for the sake of cruelty. I’ve managed to survive it this long, but for what?
“Ouch,” I breathe out, my hand reflexively covering my neck. A sudden, sharp stabbing pain interrupts my thoughts. I feel a strange substance hit my fingers, something wet and tacky, and it sinks into my hazy mind that it’s drying blood.
Suddenly, it all comes back to me in a flash, like a thunderbolt. This is the piece of the puzzle I needed. My foggy brain jerks into overdrive, suddenly alert as the floodgates of my memory open.
I remember the King drawing a lottery, essentially raffling off the women to his favorite supporters. The cruelty and abuse had lessened in the past few days, though never stopped completely, once the King realized that human women could serve a purpose. That is, other than entertaining demons as they watch us scream, cry, and die.
Human women, it turns out, are more fertile than demon women. We have a mission now – to be farmed out like barnyard animals and used for breeding. We will bear their children, like it or not.
Because otherwise, the demons are in danger of going extinct. Their women simply cannot keep up. It takes them far too long to reach child-bearing age, and too long to give birth. The rate of live births doesn’t match the foolhardy ways of the male demons, intent on killing themselves faster than they can be born.
Half-demon children, plunked out over and over by human women, are better than none. There’s a silver lining to that terrifying thought, however. Namely, that human women at least have some value now. We’re worth more alive than dead.
The demons won’t be kind to us, but at least they’ll think twice before they murder us. And, like any barnyard animal, we can expect to get the very basics required for sustaining life. Adequate food and water, rest, the things that sound so small and yet can be so very valuable. Things we were never able to take for granted are suddenly a given.
It’s a step in the right direction, anyway.
I recall the demon who ‘won’ me in the lottery. The King announced him as Volikan. He approached me with greedy, flashing eyes, looking as if he could devour me whole. Even now, the thought sends a chill racing up my spine.
“I always mark my toys,” He had hissed at me. “Hold still or I’ll do it for you.”
Frozen in terror, my entire body had locked up. Not because of his threat, necessarily. It was simply the physical betrayal of a mind that had run off screaming.
Then he sank his teeth into my neck, biting hard enough to draw blood. He threw me over his shoulder, and I suppose I must have passed out in fright. And now I am here.
Wherever ‘here’ is.
I shiver and try to hunch down in a way that keeps as much of my bare skin off the cold stone floor as possible. It’s an awkward squat, but it helps somewhat. At least until my thighs get too tired to support myself.
There’s nowhere else to sit, nothing warmer. At least, nothing that I can make out in the near-complete darkness of the dungeon.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to retain as much body heat as I can. There’s no telling how long I will be down here, and even the air is cold. If I let my temperature drop, it will be much harder to return to normal. Better to simply conserve heat now.
“Mother,” I begin my prayer, resorting to the one thing that has always carried me through difficult times. “Your humble servant is here to offer gratitude and thanks for preserving me safely this far. Help me to remember that, as your follower, I must be ready to bend to your will.”
I pause, trying to banish the fleeting thought in my mind that scoffs at the idea of having sex with a demon. If the Mother has led me here through such a wild and unpredictable series of events, who am I to question her ways?
I clear my throat, resolved to commit myself to her plan. Whatever that may be.
Even if I have to be a broodmare.
“Whatever it is that you desire of me shall be done. Provide me with the guidance to understand your ways, and the ability to recognize your divine intervention when it appears before me. I pray, Mother, that you give me the wisdom and strength to do what must be done.”
As if on cue, I hear a scraping sound, wood dragging over stone. My ears perk up, listening, as heavy footsteps come down a staircase. The sound gets louder with each step, moving closer and closer.
About halfway down the stairs, he passes the stone ceiling that obstructs him from vision. The first thing I see is the light from the torch in his hands, my eyes immediately drawn to it. It looks warm, and bright, and manages to light up his demon face so that it looks almost…handsome.