Page 2 of Lost in the Dark

I swipe my hand over the sensors that monitor the tributes. There is one pulse I search for within the inventory of crystals that signifies one soul. A familiar hum calls to me. My mate.

I am just checking on her. No harm in that. I won’t disrupt any of her vital patterns if I just slip right in…

I glance at Ruairc, which is my undoing. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” he says.

“Dammit,” I mutter under my breath. Ruairc lets out a whoop as I hurriedly type in the access codes to unlock access into the ark program. “Don’t even think about revealing yourself to your mate,” I snarl.

Human minds can’t handle seeing our base forms when they are still a part of the ark program. They reject our presence, and some become traumatized. Best to imprint in our corporeal form when their senses can take us in. Scent is the most important in recognition, and the most numbed sense while they’re in the ark.

“Done!” Ruairc doesn’t even have the grace to look ashamed that we are breaking all the rules.

Don’t harm a soul. Don’t reveal yourself to one before they awaken. Don’t leave them vulnerable to the void.

I may have revealed myself to my mate prematurely, but I erased my presence from the ark so she wouldn’t remember. I would damn myself into the void before any harm comes to her.

Ruairc is already in position on a transport ring. He wraps his wings around his body tight, hiding his armored scales. At full height, his curling horns scrape the top of the teleporter. This close to the Obsidian Rift, we could travel undetected through void space to join our mates inside the ark while their physical selves gain corporeal form at the facility.

It is the only thing that keeps their sanity intact as they travel from one realm to the next.

I glare at my counterpart to impart some semblance of structure upon him. I wasted my efforts as he set his on finding his mate. “When I say leave, you’ll leave, got it? And no back talk, because I’ll just pull you out, anyway.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time, old man. Let’s get on with it.”

With no prelude, I push the button that calls down the teleporting rings. They engulf Ruairc’s body before beams of light flash and take him away. I recalibrate the computer once more, and stand at my transport ring.

Ancient runes light up around me, bathing me in a red glow before the teleporting rings engage once more. I tighten my wings and tail around me as the rings come down. My last thought is of my mate as gravity presses against me on all sides, and the observation deck fades from view.

Mahal

They say that monsters don’t exist. And yet I see them every day. Or rather, every night.

During the day I can live my own life as a ladder-climbing, business woman-slash-medical professional. At night…

Sometimes I see them out of the corner of my eye. A dark glimpse here and there. A darkness that is not quite shadows because shadows do not get this dark.

It is more like there is an absence where substance should be. It’s not mere shadows, either. Whatever it is, feels like a yawning maw waiting to gobble me up.

I tend not to acknowledge the darkness whenever I feel its presence, but lately, the void has become more insistent, weighing on me like someone looming over my presence.

Worse, I think the stress of it has followed me into my dreams. Last night, I think I heard something laughing in my bedroom. It felt so real that I was beyond relieved to wake up in my bed. That is until I noticed the scrapes on my arm.

Three white lines of raised flesh that weren’t there before have finally convinced me to seek medical attention.

That’s why I’m here now. At the testing center. I don’t want to be afraid to go to sleep.

I curl and uncurl the pamphlet from Somni, Inc. in my hand. I’ve heard about the effects of their treatment and therapy. Not from anyone that I know, of course.

Self-care and mental wellness are feel-good catchphrases as part of a corporate compensation package. However, no one is supposed to admit to needing them. We are supposed to show our sympathy but not partake in these services. Especially as a woman in business, those who are brave enough to seek mental health solutions need to have enough social clout banked in order not to be maligned.

At least in my line of work—where medical research engineering sales and a $1 billion corporation and industry combine—I can visit the offices of Somni raising no suspicions.

All in the name of research and getting into our clients’ heads, I had told my work team.

My bosses lauded me for creatively using my time, and I am expected to be number one in sales yet again this month. No one questioned my strategy.

“Are you ready, Ms. Evangelista?”

I look up from my thoughts to focus on the receptionist, Artemisia. “Yes, thank you.”