Chapter Text
You are Rhosze, and you are going to die.
Your captor is almost certainly going to kill you, now or later. Probably later, given that she seems to want to continue this facade of an existence for a while longer. You don’t even really know why you’re still alive.
The metal clangs as she enters. High heels that could break your skull stride confidently down the hallway. Her eyes are fuschia, and even if you could break free the instinct to submit is too strong. It’s humilating, being at the mercy of this alien. She doesn’t even have horns.
There’s a moment of discussion in their strange soft language for a while, the boss telling the one keeping your lusus away to go for now. There’s an audible *shink* as her specubus readies, then the soft pain of a bloody hole torn in your leg. The hornless alien grins, and begins to unlatch the chaining on your legs.
Her voice is infuriating, even more than the hands wandering across your skin. The worst part is that you know she’d be an admirable blackrom partner, if you were on a more even footing. You’re too young to face her, even if you were to have access to your weapons.
She always finished quickly, when the bluelight isn’t there to watch. A small period of stimulation, covering the chains in indigo, then a series of tortures. There’s yet to be anything permanently damaging, but that’s in no small part to the womans skill in healing. You don’t think she’ll let you die for quite some time. In any case, it’s only a bit of torture, then it’s over. Your hands are shaking, from the electrocution and the pain of a piercing trident. It’s not so bad.
Sometimes you think on what happened when you arrived here. You were new in your laughsassian squadron, just out of pupation. The leader was Maenad, and a total of five tried to court her and came off with ripped arms or legs. They killed her instantly, on planet. You were one of the last squads sent. You were the only one of your squadron left alive, after it ended. Some of the last news you got was that, for the first time ever, Alternia had given up on a planet.
They left you here, all alone.
The lights are off, now, but the bluelight, or one of her cronies, is still around. The chains are stained purple with geneslime and blood. You wish that this was Alternia, and it was a hateful quadrent mate who left you here. But no.
There’s the distinctive clink of footsteps again, but they’re lighter, faster, this time. A girl in a hood is just visible in the darkness. She stops to stab a security camera with an indiscernible object, then walks right up to you. Her eyes are a more vivid fuschia than the older woman’s. There’s a click, and some of the restraints break free, then a couple more. It’s with almost no warning that you snap the final bolt, and fall to the ground. The girl freezes, and you very cautiously start to walk-crawl away. You’ve only got three limbs to work with, so it’s hard, but-
The girl heaves you over her shoulder. You struggle against it, just because you know you're going to die. It's all going to be over, all you can hope is that the alien kills you kindly. Which you somewhat doubt. Tears are streaming down your face at this point, and intermittently grating sobs screech from your lungs. You can't bring yourself to resist the coming fate when you're placed into the alien car. Fuchsia is everywhere, not the proper color of your Empress, but that of the alien's eyes. Another human, dressed all in red and black, places a towel over you. They talk for a bit in their strange soft language, then the red one sits down in the car beside you and places a towel over you body, followed by a restraint. It clicks in an oddly pleasing sound. The red girl drapes a towel over you, and at some point you begin to fall asleep.
The dreams are the same as they always are, when you sleep without your lusus’s care. Death, so much death, a mutant pinkblood, only a couple sweeps old, crying as you press a pair of needles into their gills, rip them off and bite into their side. A gunshot, bullets fly through the air and you are dead in a single shot. (a waste of a shot) There’s blood everywhere, seeping into the ground, and you’re-
awake, and the towel is still covering most of you. The red girl is carrying you someplace, beyond your line of sight. She presses a single hand to your head, the world shifts off-focus, and you slide into a deeper, unmoving sleep.