Chapter 2

Kleena

“How long have I been lying here?” Kleena asked the empty room.

The ground was cold, pieces of jagged debris digging into her side.

Part of her hoped that maybe Jodin might return after the fallout. Too bad the loudest part of her would have chased him out with a bat.

She pushed her palm against the ground, avoiding shards of glass, to heave herself to her feet. Her home wasn’t safe anymore. It didn’t represent the shelter she’d once known. She couldn’t trust anything she’d built.

Or maybe I’m exaggerating .

An inkling of a thought crossed her mind… Maybe she should pick up this mess.

Or maybe that was a problem for another day.

She felt a shard of glass crush underfoot anyway, despite her best efforts, and then she made her way out the door, paranoid it might have gone through and cut her foot.

She didn’t want to keep imagining the life she used to have in this place. She didn’t want to remember herself in his arms.

She didn’t know what she was doing or why she even bothered to do anything at all. She could have lain face down in that apartment for several more hours and been just as happy.

Outside, the cool air stung her tear-stained cheeks.

God, I must look monstrous , she thought, trudging aimlessly forward as she shut and locked the apartment door behind her.

Whirring vehicles careened overhead.

She could feel the stares of frequent passersby in the crowded streets, their eyes studying her—judging her. Maybe she should have cleaned up a little before she left home. But the last thing on her mind was her appearance.

Mere hours ago, she would have cared about being out in the districts with smeared mascara. Such a thought would have been unfathomable to her.

After all, what would Jodin have thought?

She chuckled even though it hurt. His expectations were always lofty.

Even though it hurt, she knew their relationship had been crumbling for some time. That part of their relationship had always been hollow, and she might be better off.

Of course, that didn’t make it any easier.

She passed by an arispote woman and a human man, her slight green hand holding his larger tanned one. Kleena had heard arispote reproduced through skin-on-skin contact, and that even something as innocuous as holding hands could lead to pregnancy.

Perhaps on the creature’s home world, such a display would have been illicit. She didn’t know. She’d never truly met an arispote to ask.

Typically, she liked to think about these strange interactions and speculate on them. The darker parts of the capital city had formed a melting pot for alien species, making it easy to do.

“But not today,” she told herself, tuning out the world around her as she walked aimlessly, never once registering the danger she might be putting herself in.

If they’re going to come for me, let them come for me . What more do I have to lose?

She didn’t notice the shadows that had started to gather around her as she moved from the bustling streets into an alleyway, stray rainwater dripping down from gutters. Smoke rose up from out of the grates, a neon scoreboard on the back of the bar depicting the results of the last Organ Bowl.

She lifted herself slightly from her trance. The blue moon poured light down from overhead, reflecting off of the collection pile.

It resembled the wreckage she’d be returning to. Several glass milk bottles lay broken into pieces along with a broken image display. The only difference was that they saw fit to dispose of it all rather than bothering to pick up the pieces.

Kleena rubbed her nose with her sleeve, wiping the tears from her eyes.

Next week would have been our anniversary , she realized, feeling a chasm of despair take hold.

She should have returned home. She never even realized the danger she was putting herself in by walking the streets late at night. Abduction stories were becoming far more common, though most were shared via word-of-mouth at bars and in the hallways of her apartment complex.

The lost girls were nameless like her, nobodies in a cold and indifferent city.

She looked ahead at the alleyway, which narrowed as it extended.

She’d never been this far from home before, at least not on a walk. Some of her favorite businesses emptied out into this alley.

Fuck it , she thought, oblivious to the racket ahead of her. If I’m going to die tonight, why not make it an adventure?

“Curfew is meant to be obeyed for your own safety.”

Kleena nearly jumped, hearing the woman’s calming voice speak out over the citywide intercom.

“We respect and value your freedoms, but we’re also here to protect you.”

Feeling defiance rise in her, Kleena walked forward, almost having to turn to squeeze through the narrowing alley. She didn’t want to think about what had brought her to this point. She didn’t want to think about anything at all. She just needed to move forward.

The lights became dimmer the more she traveled until she was alone in the darkness, ignorant to the noises around her. The intercom insisting obedience and dictating protocol was muffled somehow, as though this realm existed in a bubble.

Even the noises of overhead traffic were silent, the hovering of vehicles no longer present.

Finally, I can hear myself think.

That’s when the alleyway started to open up once more. The alleys were as unpredictable as the streets, which ages ago had served functional purposes but now remained as nothing more than reminders of a long-dead era.

As she moved, her hair fell down in front of her face, a tangled mess of its former self. She found herself constantly having to brush it aside, trying not to let her thoughts stray back to the apartment she’d left behind.

She could feel the dirt and residue from the buildings coating her face, making the remnants of makeup left on her cheeks almost granular.

“I’m pathetic,” she murmured to herself, glad she no longer had to sidle through the alley passages. “But at least I’m alone.”

She dusted off her dress, trying to liberate some shred of dignity.

But as she removed the debris, turning and shifting in place, Kleena’s ears perked up. She suddenly realized she wasn’t alone after all. Somehow, somebody else had found their way through this labyrinth of passages to join her in the alleyway.

And they sounded desperate.

No longer concerned for her own safety, Kleena moved urgently toward the noise, trying to follow the sound to the best of her ability.

“Seriously, I don’t have a problem with you guys,” a girl’s voice called out as Kleena tiptoed through the back alleys.

The girl’s voice was strained, as though she had also been crying mere moments before. “Just let me go. I don’t want to cause you guys any—”

“Do we look like we’re the ones in trouble?” a gruff, raspy voice, whose intonations were familiarly prolonged, snarled. “Stop struggling.”

Kleena’s pace increased. She didn’t care about being spotted. She turned the corner to see a blonde girl, whose hair was far tidier than Kleena’s, huddled over on the pavement. On all sides, she was flanked by Jorvlens, their movements staggered and unnatural.

A very small part of Kleena wanted to run away. Perhaps that part of her mind thought there might still be something worth fighting for.

Perhaps it was just cowardly.

But as she charged forward, lunging at the alien creatures, who seemed to have been laughing at the girl’s misfortune, Kleena knew she at least had the element of surprise.

She tackled the biggest one to the ground.

“What the…”

She pulled her fist backward, and with every bit of fury she could muster, she started punching the Jorvlen in its face.

In her mind, the Jorvlen was Jodin back in the apartment. Every bit of damage she wanted to do to him was portrayed in her alleyway punches.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

“You’re a really stupid slave. You know that?”

But the comment wasn’t addressed toward the stranger in the alley. It was meant for Kleena.

Kleena’s arm became enwrapped in a slimy filament, the Jorvlen gripping her tightly.

What was worse, the girl she had attempted to save, hoping to sacrifice herself toward that cause, was still cowering in the alley, afraid to move.

“Slave?” Kleena asked. “I’m no slave!”

The creatures around her—familiar, terrifying creatures that plagued the city with their presence—began to laugh again.

“You could have fooled me,” one of the Jorvlens said.

And before Kleena knew what was happening, her other arm was subdued too.

The girl looked pleadingly in her direction, as though hoping Kleena might still stand a chance.

However, they had begun dragging her by her feet, and they were tremendously brawny, their muscles naturally stronger than a human’s.

“Boss is gonna be really happy about this haul,” one of the monsters said.

Kleena could feel herself being pulled into darkness alongside the girl, dragged through the alleyway toward an unknown destination.

Her fight was gone.

She couldn’t see much more point in resisting. What was left to fight for in this city?

Why was she even alive?