45: Smaller

TRIGGER WARNING!?! 

Lycer's POV

There's a bitter taste in my mouth. 

I open and close my mouth several times, trying to get the taste of the wolfsbane to fade. Without any water it's a hard task and instead, I find the bitter aftertaste rising back up my throat. My hand flies up to my mouth, holding back the bile that comes after a drug induced torture. If I throw up in here, they won't clean it up for at least a week. I can't count on my fingers how many times they've made me sleep next to a pile of my own vomit. 

Gulping back the acidic liquid of my body's creation does nothing to ease the bitter taste in my mouth and throat. 

Something's happening amongst the experiments. For some time now, they've been oddly quiet around me. Usually, they yap their mouths. Throwing comments and insults, talking of Malum in multiple ways, talking of themselves and all they'll one day be once they get more information from me. But they've been quiet, at least while I've been able to actually understand them. Actually able to comprehend their words. 

I push myself over to the thin clump of fabric that they gave me as a bed. I flip over the clumpy small pillow and grab at the water bottle that was snuck to me over a week ago. There's barely anything in it but I still rip it open, turning the bottle until the meager liquid hits my tongue. It gives the smallest of reliefs but it's a relief nonetheless. Closing the bottle so I don't lose the lid, I hide it back under my pillow. I'm not supposed to have water until they allow me to but I've somewhat befriended one of the experiments. Every now and then, when his rotation actually gets him near me, he'll sneak me water or protein bars. He'll take the trash in exchange for anything new he brings me. 

I push myself back into my seated position in front of the bars. I try to maintain myself as best I can in front of them. I can't let them win. Or maybe I just can't let myself lose. Not completely. 

The door to the cellars slams open and I hold back the jump that itches in my skin. Even in my sluggish state, the smell that wafts in is too real. But I know it's not and now I'm doubting the heavy footsteps walking towards my cell. A smell I hadn't passed in a long time has me taking deep breaths while trying to remain subtle. 

Memories of Celestial dance in my head. Her giggle echoing around the forest. Her rounded cheeks with just the slightest bit of her cheekbones beginning to pop out. Her long, unruly hair between my fingers as I pull the twigs from the locks. Her gentle touch as she would ask me to keep reading. "One more chapter, please," she would pout. 

A melancholic smile finds its way to my lips. I think I laugh. I feel it bubble on my lips but hear nothing. Nothing but the footsteps that still approach me. They echo off the walls and fill my head.

One of the experiments comes into view and I know I'm hallucinating. In his arms, is my Celestial. My mouth opens and closes as the experiment saunters into view. She moves sluggishly in his arms. 

They must have given me something else; something alongside the wolfsbane. 

Everything is blurry, even Celestial. My mind must be working double time because she's aged. Just a bit. It's all too real. It's all too much.

"Go away," I grumble, bringing my hands up to my eyes. I rest my hands over my eyes, pulling them back. They still stand there, her in the experiment's arms. I try to make out if she's dead or alive but I can't stomach the exploration. My hands cover my eyes again. "Go away, go away, go away," I mumble and groan as I rub the heels of my hands over my eyes in a painful circular motion. 

"Do you not want your gift, mutt?" He spits the word as if he has any right to give the word offense. His words themself are real. Here. He's here. 

Her smell circles me and, all of a sudden, I'm shaking. Not here. Not now. She can't be. . . 

But when I dare to look up again, nothing is blurry. And she's still here. In its arms. 

I think a cry escapes my lips but I suck my breath in. I even my breath and I return back to being still. I track his minimal movements with my eyes as he turns slowly away from me, Celestial still in his arms. I feel my jaw lock. I steady my breath. 

If this is real -- I can't. Not here. Not now. 

He drops her to the ground and a groan escapes her lips. I fight the urge to jump up. I can't get through these bars to her, even if I try. 

I can smell the wolfsbane seeping out of her pores. A brief thought comes to me that they likely nearly killed her with their game of chemicals. 

"Malum has presented you with a gift, mutt," he spits the word. "Say thank you." 

I say nothing. I do nothing. I refuse. This isn't real. None of this is real and even if it was, they don't deserve the satisfaction of a response from me. 

He kicks her. She tumbles forward with a pained groan and all of a sudden this is too real. I stare at her face, just outside of the bars that hold me here. She's pale, too pale for my comfort. I feel the fabric of my shorts beneath my fingertips. The cotton blend does nothing to keep me warm but the coarseness of the fabric is there. It's in my hold. 

The experiment watches me. 

I bite the tip of my tongue. The pain is there and I feel my heartbeat begin to pick up. I taste the blood in my mouth at the same moment that the experiment reaches down and yanks Celestial up by her hair. Her pained cry wakes me and I'm at the bars, holding onto them. Trying to break through them. Trying to get to her. Because this is real and she's here. 

I reach for her but she's too far. He says nothing as his second hand moves to her throat. A growl escapes me as he tightens his hold on her windpipe, letting go of her hair. She lets out a cough, a sluggish hand trying and failing to reach up to grab his. She gasps for air as I bang the bars. "Let her go!" His grip loosens. Celestial takes in ragged breaths. Her eyes flutter, not opening enough to see me. "Celestial, I'm here! It'll be okay!" The experiment chuckles. 

His currently free hand digs into his coat pocket. He pulls out a blade, a deep almost purple yet iridescent in color. I suck in a breath. That's a knife from a magi. I know they hold several of these small weapons from the times that they've used them on me. 

"Don't you fucking dare," I warn in a hiss. "Touch her and you die." 

All he does is fucking tut his tongue and shake his head slowly. "All gifts must come at a price," he says lowly, running the blade up her arm and towards her neck. With the tip of the blade, he picks up a stone she wears around her neck. The experiment eyes the stone before dropping it. Instead, the blade turns downward, ripping through the red sweater she was wearing. I growl, a deep and rumbling sound echoing around us. Stashing the blade back in his pocket, he drops her, ripping the sweater from her body leaving her in a thin camisole. 

He eyes her curled up form on the ground. "Stay the fuck away from her!" I'm practically shoving myself through the bars at this point. Of course I don't fit, I already know that. Still, I reach for her. Her eyes stay closed, shuddering breaths coming out of her lips at uneven intervals. He grabs her straight by the throat this time, yanking her back up. The knife returns from his pocket, stabbing into her shoulder. "Fucker!" Her eyes fly open as a scream leaves her lips. Her pupils are dilated and I pray to the Goddess that she feels none of this. That she's too far gone. 

The blade hisses in her skin and the smell of her burning flesh fills the air. A cry leaves her as he rips the knife away, likely tearing through more skin. 

Twirling the knife in his hand, he eyes me, giving no mind to the now injured girl in his arms. My heart is pounding in my throat and sweat beads at my temple. The bars turn from cold to warm in my firm grasp. He runs the smooth side of the blade down her sternum. "Don't you think she would look pretty gutted?" My teeth clench. 

"Don't you fucking dare." 

He shrugs. "I'm not supposed to kill her anyways. Yet." He brings the blade to her arm, digging into the flesh of her bicep and dragging it down to her lower forearm. It hisses the entire way, burning through the flesh, but she still bleeds. Blood drips from both injuries to the cold floor beneath her. 

Celestial is crying, mumbling words I can't make out. I can see her fingers twitching but she seems incapable of moving her arms. 

I take a deep breath, several of them. And I step back from the bars. Keeping them in my eyesight, I sit back down. He hums. I ignore him. I let my eyes close for a moment before reopening with a coldness I tend to give these fuckers in my conscious moments. 

The experiment eyes the blade and the blood seeping from Celestial's skin before trailing back to me with a boredom not previously there. Stashing the blade back in his pocket, he opens the cell across from me and tosses Celestial in. She lands with a cry, her shoulder making a harsh sound as it comes in contact with the stone. The cell door slams shut and the experiment saunters off. 

I wait for the door to the cellars to slam shut before moving back to the bars. "Celestial," I whisper. "Can you hear me?" Her breathing is still uneven, her eyes open but seemingly not seeing. "It'll be okay. I promise." She doesn't respond. I rest my head against the bars, an overwhelming feeling of melancholy and guilt filling me from the very core. She's here because of me. 

My eyes land on the now torn red sweater that still rests on the ground between our cells. It's nice. I go back to looking at her. The rest of her clothes are nice too. She's wearing a skirt and leggings and more so than that, she's wearing shoes. Shoes that fit her. My sense of guilt grows. She's found a pack. 

My mind spins from there. When was she taken in and by who? Is she still with her mom? Her group? How much of the group remained? Does her new pack care for her? Maybe she found her mate. 

So much I want to ask her. And so much I feel guilty to even consider. 

I have to get her out of here. 

I turn my back to her, eyeing every corner of my own cell. There's very little light down here. Just a few artificial bulbs along the outside of the cells. My bed is a clumpy stack of padding and nothing more. I turn back to the bars, trying to pull them free. My efforts are for nothing. I already know this. If I could have escaped here, I would have done it years ago. 

Celestial looks cold. Her pale skin is even paler in her drug induced state; she shivers every other breath. I try to reach through the bars. 

For years my world felt so small. And now, with her just out of my reach, I wish this world were smaller.