The Agrista (Between the Lines Book 1) (31 page)

  “Ch-choice, sir?” What choice did he give them? Which way they wanted to die? She quailed at the thought.

  “You can return through the maze and take your chances; not that there’s much of one, mind you,” he snorted. “Or...” his voice shifted an octave higher in his apparent excitement. “You can volunteer to be a test subject, and in return I can guarantee you greater longevity.” His face split in an eager grin, revealing twisted rows of sallow, pointed teeth.

  “Test subject?” Chrystina took a wary step back.

  “Only one of you has given themselves to science. The first slave that was sent here,” he recalled fondly. “All the others chose death. One would think they’d have
some
appreciation for science,” he sighed, disappointed. “Perhaps I’m putting far too much credence in filthy animals.”

  “The p-person that volunteered to b-be a t-test subject, are they s-still h-here?” asked Chrystina.

  “You’re the first that’s asked to see her,” Aemilius’ face lit up. “Perhaps there’s hope for you yet. Follow me!” He whistled an irritatingly chirpy tune as he obliviously bustled past Cerin and Johanna, leading Chrystina to a shady alcove at the back of the room.

  Aemilius flashed her a sinister grin and thrust the once sheer curtain – now opaque with layers of dried blood – to the side. He extended his arm toward the narrow opening as he sidestepped and inclined his head, noticeably forcing the excitement from his jittery limbs. It was by no means a gentlemanly gesture, but an attempt to attain an optimal view in which to gauge her reaction. His malicious smile bore more than the heartless acumen of a mad scientist; it held the sadistic glee of a cruel man.

  Chrystina shuffled her feet forward, toward the putrid scent billowing out from the backroom and weakening her stance with shocks of nausea. When she finally came upon the lump of dissected flesh splayed proudly across a steel table, she could’ve sworn that her heart had actually stopped beating, if not just for a moment. She clutched her abdomen and jerked her head to the side, fighting the hot rise of bile and nerves bubbling up her throat.

 
The creature on the table no longer bore any resemblance to a gender, or even a species. Its limbs had been ripped from its body, only allowed to partially heal before being mercilessly gouged and cauterized, again and again, never knowing relief from the pain.

  Its skin had been replaced with a patina of gnarled scar tissue; a tribute to old wounds torn open and sloppily sewn back together, only to be ripped apart again. It was as if the madman leering over Chrystina’s shoulder was trying to create a human black hole. By the gleam in his eyes, he was already marking
her
with numbers in his mind as he sharpened his scalpel.

  The poor creature on the table had been ravaged of its humanity and stripped of everything but the one essential truth that thrives at the core of every living thing, even a creature so far removed from nature. A need that no person can deny, even to themselves. Survival. Somehow, this creature had held on and found the will to keep on breathing, knowing day in and day out that the torment would never cease.

  “What d-did you d-do to...t-to...” Chrystina stammered as she grappled for the right word to describe the nightmare before her.

  “Her name is Mary. At least, it was. I refer to her as Subject Number One.”

  Chrystina didn’t particularly remember Mary. Not a lot of people did, save Johanna. Mary was the first to go missing after Aemilius took up residence in the castle, but slaves often went missing with no explanation or clue as to why. She was an elderly woman and was nothing remarkable in the most commonly conceived ways. She often kept to herself and stayed out of others’ way.

  To Johanna, however, she was something special. Mary was the first friend she’d made after being stolen away to Quinque. Back then, friends were hard to come by, at least for Johanna. Mary was kind to her when most people avoided her because of her lineage. The rebels infuriated Cailene, and she often took her anger out on the slaves.

  Before coming to Quinque, Johanna had thought cruelty was limited to royals, but she soon found out that fellow slaves could be just as unfeeling and spiteful.

  One particular group of female slaves had grown jealous of her Clamans ring. They begged Johanna for the benefit of its protection. While she wanted desperately to help them, she wasn’t willing to sacrifice her own virtue in order to do so, nor give up the one keepsake she had of her mother.

  One night, when Marcel had been in a particularly bad mood, he took it out on a fellow slave named Rachael. She returned battered and bruised, determined to restore her pride and continue the cycle of violence by inflicting it on another.

  Rachael and her friends concocted a scheme to drug Johanna, take her ring, and leave her in Marcel’s bed. They would’ve gotten away with it too, if it hadn’t been for Mary catching them in the act.

Mary was the sole reason Johanna had lasted those first few horrible weeks. She’d never met a gentler soul in all of her life, and in her own unremarkable way, Mary had saved Johanna’s. She didn’t deserve such a terrible fate, though no one did, save those who would inflict it.

  “I won’t divulge all the gory details, but I will tell you the purpose of this experiment,” Aemilius’ nasal voice brought Johanna back from her thoughts. She forced all of her attention onto him and away from Mary, before she lost herself entirely. “I’m testing to see how much pain the human body can withstand before succumbing to death. I feel rather like a barbarian without any other test subjects to compare it to, though. To arrive at a truly accurate result, I need
multiple
subjects,” he sighed, flashing Chrystina a hopeful look over the rim of his glasses. “I really do hope you’ll consider giving yourself to science. Your pathetic existence could actually mean something!”

  “If you’re willing to do
this
to a person,” Chrystina jerked her head toward Mary, refusing to look at her directly, “why even give any of us a choice?”

  “This is science. It’s nothing personal,” He rolled his eyes when Chrystina began to shake. Johanna suppressed the urge to rip them from his sockets.

 
Oh, Mary. Poor, poor Mary
. Cerin’s steady arm pressed firmly across Johanna’s abdomen held her in place and reminded her of their purpose.

  “I’m not a bad guy, just a scientist. A curious mind can be quite a burden to bear.”

  His blatant claim of innocence filled Johanna with an overpowering rage as it hurled her miles past the Rubicon. Her anger set fire to her limbs as she charged at his towering backside and rammed the top of her head into the small of his hunched back. He was stronger than she would’ve guessed by his lanky frame, but she was determined to inflict harm.

  Aemilius sharply snapped his head in Chrystina’s direction with startled vitriol, demanding an explanation with his stern expression, but she was just as confused as he.

  Cerin never thought that Johanna would let her temper get the best of her, but after a cursory glance at the mangled lump of flesh on the table, he couldn’t really blame her.
There’s no turning back now! I might as well help her,
he thought grumpily.

  Cerin rushed Aemilius just as he’d whipped his body around in search of the perpetrator, stealing the wind from his lungs in a gurgle of protest. Knowing a large man like Aemilius would regain his bearings at any moment, Cerin literally jumped on the fleeting opportunity as he latched onto his backside.

  Cerin suppressed the explosion of nausea weakening his movements every time the disorienting odor of rot slammed into him, and focused instead on Mary’s endless wailing, refusing to let it become white noise.

  He straddled Aemilius’ torso as he attempted to put him in a sleeper hold. Frail as Aemilius was, he was still too small to pull it off, causing him to curse his inadequate size for the umpteenth time.

  Chrystina stood motionless, watching in utter confusion. Johanna determinedly wrapped her legs around Aemilius’ rickety limbs, fettering him to the spot he stood, swaying.

  She steeled herself around him, causing him to come crashing down in a tumble of hissed expletives as Cerin sprang off his back just in time
not
to cushion his fall. He scrambled for the nearest blunt object – which happened to be a weighty tome – and conked Aemilius on the head with it,
finally
rendering the man unconscious.

  “There you are!” Chrystina gasped, relieved. “I had no idea what was going on!” She avidly shook her head, as if to rid herself of the confusion.

  “You can see me?” Cerin asked, alarmed.

  “Kind of.” She dumbly cocked her head to the side. Chrystina was a sweet girl, but not very bright. “You’re see-through.”

  “
What
?” Cerin jumped in surprise and cast an angry glance at his Clamans Ring. It was cracked. “I warned them that this thing was unpredictable!”

  “The ring is very reliable.
You
broke it,” Johanna intercepted haughtily. Her ring now hung on a piece of twine tied loosely about her neck, and she was fully visible. “Stop dawdling and help me tie him up.”

  Johanna and Chrystina scoured the lab while Cerin kept a close watch on Aemilius. They eventually turned up thick cords of sisal rope, and just in time, for Aemilius began coming to. Johanna conked him on the head once more for good measure, and a bit for her own satisfaction, though it hadn’t even begun to sate her thirst for vengeance.

  It was obvious that the knots of Aemilius’ bindings were tied unnecessarily tight, for his hands and feet had turned a worrisome shade of purple almost instantly. No one cared about his comfort or his safety, so long as he was alive long enough to comply with their questions.

  “What should we do with Mary?” Cerin asked softly.

  “That’s a silly question,” Johanna said, offended. “We’ll take her back to Slave Quarters and patch her up. That’s the best we can do, for now.” Even as the words left her mouth, she knew the danger of such actions, but she was determined to save Mary, just as she had saved her.

  “But Johanna,” Chrystina began, losing her voice beneath the scrutiny of Johanna’s cold glare.

  “We should put her out of her misery,” Cerin said indelicately.

  “She’s not a dog!” An abrupt silence followed the sound of Johanna’s palm cracking across the soft panes of Cerin’s cheek, echoing throughout the steel corridors with resounding deference.

  This wasn’t the first time Cerin had been slapped across the face by a female, but it was the first time he’d felt he hadn’t deserved it.

  “Stop talking about me like I’m not here, children,” Mary struggled to speak, but she was clearly heard among the three. “That monster burned me blind, took my arms and legs, and did things I’ll not speak of to ones so young,” she visibly shuddered. “I have no desire to go on this way.”

  “I’ll take care of you, Mary. You can come live with me, among the rebels,” Johanna said sweetly as she laid her hand upon Mary’s swollen cheek.

  “Johanna, what quality of life would she have?” Cerin whispered.

  “You’re sweet, child, but this is my choice. I
want
to die. Have for a long time now. There’s not much life left in these old bones, anyway.” Mary somehow managed to scrounge up a weak smile amidst the wreckage of her disfigured face.

  Johanna avidly shook her head with streaming tears of protest. She was convinced that once the pain went away, Mary would feel differently. She would choose life. Cerin, however, didn’t need convincing. Mary didn’t have many years left in her, and the ones she did wouldn’t be pleasant. She would never have her independence back, and the inescapable pain would haunt her for her remaining days. He quietly stepped away from the girls and began brewing something in the lab.

  His absence had gone completely unnoticed by his companions, but not by Mary. She beamed back at Johanna, her withered face lighted with a surprising smile that bought a modicum of healthy color to her cheeks. While Cerin wasn’t cruel like Aemilius, Mary recognized the cold detachment in his demeanor, vital to do what needed to be done. Soon, she would be at peace.

  “Step back,” Cerin instructed firmly. “I’m going to comply with Mary’s wishes.”

  “You will not!” Johanna attempted to slap the bubbling vial from his hand, but Cerin easily dodged her clumsy swat with a quick step backward.

  “It’s my choice,” Mary’s voice was gentle, but firm.

  “I’m sorry, Johanna,” Cerin muttered under his breath as he forced his way past her. “I’m going to administer Ponyae,” he said with unnerving clinical detachment, lacking any semblance of bedside manner.

 
All the better
, Mary thought upon observing his demeanor. He was direct. It would be over quickly.

  “Ponyae? That’s a pain killer,” Johanna observed hoarsely.

  “Yes, an extremely high dose of pain killer, mixed with equal parts sweetener,” Cerin said as he approached Mary’s bedside. “You won’t feel a thing. It’ll be like eating candy and drifting off to sleep,” his flickering smile wavered at the edges. Mary returned a similar look of complacency. “Do you have any last wishes?” His words caused a sudden eruption from Chrystina and Johanna as they held close to each other. Touched by the outpour of emotion, a single tear rolled down Mary’s cheek, but there was no indecision in her next words.