Our refusal ends up being futile, of course.
After multiple rounds of yelling out our defiance and choking on gas leaves our lungs aching, Olivia climbs back in. Tremors wrack her body, but we don't look away from each other.
Neither one of us flinch at the despair written in every anguish painted groove of skin.
We are both sobbing as the chamber closes and then she's still again and I'm trying to put the broken pieces of myself back together.
Feeling more alone than I ever thought possible.
4
Thivoll
Their stench is the first thing I notice as I awaken.
My hands and paws are bound like I'm livestock and my head is pounding from whatever mixture they used to knock me unconscious. I try to move my body but it isn't responding. My eyelids are too heavy to lift and my breathing is labored.
From the squishing sounds they make as they move around me I can tell there are several of them.
The slick blobs are a complete plague on the known universe. Willing to do anything for credits, which they use to indulge in their taste for mind-altering substances and raping women of as many species as possible.
There is a depressingly large intergalactic demand for both and so their efforts to keep finding ever more exotic products and slaves are well-funded.
I still don't know how they captured me, aside from it being some sort of new drug cocktail. It shouldn't have worked, and it won't work for very long, but that doesn't really help me right now. One of my toes twitches and a wave of relief follows.
At least whatever it is isn't a permanent paralytic.
Their wet footfalls come closer and I'm overwhelmed by their acrid, musty odor. There are rustling sounds, then they start speaking. I learned enough of their language back when I still had hopes of joining the Sentinels that I can understand their gurgling.
"I don't like the look of his vitals. Move faster with the straps."
"If you want us to move faster, why don't you come help?"
"No . . . uh . . . I'll just keep monitoring him."
"Dried out old coward," one of them near me says in a low voice.
A sudden pain flares across my flank from something raking along me with enough force to tear the flesh under my protective layer of scales.
The scent of my blood fills the room. Through the burning throb I can feel something shift against my body. It must be a strap, which is confirmed when it starts tightening.
I continue to unsuccessfully urge life back into my limbs.
Too much more of this and it will trigger the rage that always lurks below the surface. While it might help burn throughthe rest of the chemical they used, it would also take away rational thought. I had better get myself out of this before my subconscious catches up to the fact that I'm trapped.
"Did you see that? Desiccated testicles! He just moved."
"His tail is contained. You'll be fine."
Another breath in and I can detect their fear.
They should be afraid. I'm going to rip out their Thela-cursed throats.
Just as soon as I get my body to respond. The sensation of every one of my claws extending from their sheathes is almost sexual. The rumble of my growl fills the room along with wet screeches of terror.
I must be right on the edge and try to pull myself back from it.
"We aren't equipped for this," one of them yells. "I'm not some disposable bot. I'm done with plans made by shriveled dung holes."
