《Shorts》 No-Win Solution A light rain drizzled down on me as I waited on the tarmac. The rain was that greasy type of drizzle that couldn¡¯t figure out if it was a light rain or mist. The onshore breeze from the bay whipped it into a drenching light precipitation that wraps around you and soaks you from all sides. My tee shirt and jeans had become sodden weights that clung to me and chilled me to the skin. I looked across the Orbital Port landing pad. On the other side of the glass doors guarded by two armed marines was warmth, food and comfort. There was literally nothing keeping me here. If I walked no one would stop me. Several others had already Walked away as the processing dragged on and the rain began. With a call I could order a transport and be home by the end of the hour. If I wanted to live with that choice and all it meant. I looked over at the doors regretting my circumstances but not my options. A gray clad sergeant caught my wandering eye and prowled over to me. ¡°Is there a problem here recruit?¡± she talk shouted at me. ¡°Something you would rather be doing?¡± Her voice a clear alto that carried menace in it. She stood equally soaked. But her posture was ramrod straight and aggressive, she seemed to not notice that rain at all. ¡°No, sergeant!¡± I responded in a clipped and hesitant tone. ¡°Then snap your eyes back front and keep them there, recruit.¡± She yelled at me, her nose inches from mine. Her eyes bore into mine. ¡°Yes sergeant!¡± I responded in the manner that the master sergeant had earlier instructed. She stalked off to harass another recruit. I did so. With no other place to look, I watched the multi time zone digital display above a closed orbital transport office reception desk on the other side of the landing yard that I could see through the glass. The time read 14:43. By now my mother probably finally figured out that I was missing. I figured it would be another fifteen or so minutes before the first call to the wrist comm that I had forgotten to turn off and now laid in the side pocket of my backpack. Another hour after that when she couldn¡¯t get a hold of me she would attempt to link directly to my cybernetic shroud. Then frantic attempts on both when I ended up a no show for the dinner Susan¡¯s parents had arranged. Thinking ahead I accessed my shroud and changed my availability to do not disturb. I continued to wait as stiff backed sergeants moved through the lines of waiting recruits trimming the last vestiges of our lives away from us. On the ground behind me was the allowed ten kilos of personal effects I could bring with me. A backpack and a duffel. Some personal effects, civilian clothing and a few mementos I was surprised at how little I really wanted from almost twenty-five years of life when given a hard limit. I had already bricked my personal data pad in my room and transferred all of the data to removable data storage cubes. My college diploma with a BS in Cybernetic Sciences from New Shanghai Central Poly-technical University was protected by a hard waterproof cover. A few scientific competition awards. A four inch by four inch lexan cube protecting the working cybernetic shroud I had made for a planetary wide cybernetic wetware competition that I had won first place in. A picture of my family from better times when dad was still in the picture. Most of the other detritus of my life could be left. I realized I wouldn¡¯t miss most of it, and the odds and ends that I later did, I could always replace. The three-one-two vibrating buzz on my comm signaled my mothers ring tone.Staying in attention I moved my eyes to the digital time display. She was five minutes late. That was uncharacteristic of her. No doubt she got hung up in the lab. Her secretary''s ringtone shortly vibrated on the device ten minutes later. The third time it buzzed a prowling sergeant noticed and dug the comm out of my backpack. ¡°Turn it off, Recruit!¡± He snapped at me. With an internal shrug I followed orders. I wouldn¡¯t have answered it even if I wasn¡¯t standing at attention. By 16:00 the rain had turned to a constant medium downpour. I was so cold that I was numb and didn¡¯t notice it anymore. The temperature started to drop as the primary sun dropped behind the orbital port¡¯s main terminal, it would be another thirty before the secondary red dwarf set too. The change in the weather echoed my uneasy feelings about my recent life choices. I had never had an aspiration to join the Colonial Expeditionary Services Marine Corps. Until three months ago I had never even contemplated it. I knew I was running away. Betrayal wasn¡¯t the correct term. But that was how my mother would see it. ¡°I have made an opportunistic arrangement for you,¡± she had told me over a year and a half ago, ¡°You¡¯ll like Susan, She is a very nice girl.¡± I admit I was intrigued at first. For the past few years I have focused on my studies and then working at my mother¡¯s lab as a junior researcher rather than dating or socializing. The girl was the daughter of a major supplier in the industry and quite well known in the field as the Ander Corp. sion and heir to the business. By the third meeting with her My mother was plowing on with the arrangement while I grew increasingly uneasy with it. Susan was nice enough but aloof and cold. I knew of her. We attended the same schools and summer academies as children. We often worked on competing projects for academic competitions. But she was nearly four years older and we rarely shared acquaintances, much less friends. After she graduated college she began to work her way through the departments of her parent¡¯s company learning the business. I was still at University on the other side of the planet. I wanted to like her and get to know her. I even arranged unchaperoned dates and meet ups with her. I took her to the usual places where men took dates. She was uninterested and often distracted. A lot of the time she had that look that people get when communicating through their shroud with someone while she was spending time with me. A few months in she started to cancel dates but plowed ahead with the wedding. After a few months more I asked her about it. ¡°Nathan, you must know by now that this is a business arrangement. Please don¡¯t expect more.¡± She glanced distractedly at her wrist com. ¡°Look, my parents are expecting us to produce them an heir. Your mother is expecting financial and recourse access. I need someone with the right education and pedigree to take me to events and meetings and can serve as the new lead researcher to your mother¡¯s lab when she retires, but stay out of my family''s business. You¡¯re not bad looking. You got top marks at university. We will make intelligent children. You don¡¯t make waves. You tick the boxes.¡± She looked at me with a pitying look. ¡°Don¡¯t read more into this than it is. If you want something more I won¡¯t mind if you take a mistress as long as you are discreet and don¡¯t produce children. Our children can not afford the competition when inheritances of the size of my family are on the line.¡± I gave up realizing she wanted a figurehead or token male for appearances. When she sent me the ¡®Fertilization and Paternity¡¯ legal forms I mentally checked out. She wanted scientific conception and artificial natal maturation. She indicated that she would allow the fertilization of ten eggs. The most viable embryo would be allowed to mature. She had a timeline of two years from the date of the wedding. The other nine would be stored cryogenically in case of an emergency. In all ways she wanted a platonic and sexless marriage. She didn¡¯t even want to carry or nurse the child. There were clauses for visitation and primary and secondary external caregivers. A company that supplied professional nannies was listed. If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Other forms followed that legally defined the parameters of our marriage. One legal form read ¡®Mistresses and Extramarital Encounters¡¯. The document identified Melissa Campbell as her designated ¡®other¡¯ and left space for me to do the same. Now or at a later date. She was legally informing me that we would have an open but sexless marriage so long as we kept it discreet and under the table. At this point I approached my mother to call off the wedding. She refused. My mother has a gift for ignoring reality and hyper focusing on her goals. It is what makes her a great scientist and terrible mother. My mother can also gaslight with the best of them. She started to trivialize my concerns early on. When I brought up the documents and legal forms she countered that they were just a thorough prenuptial agreement. She often forgot earlier conversations we had about my concerns. When I brought documents and evidence she diverted or blocked the conversation. If I stuck to my guns she said I was making a mountain out of a molehill. After some digging I found out that she had entered the agreement a year before telling me and had already started using Ander Corp. resources. If I didn¡¯t go through with the ceremony her business was sunk and she would owe back several hundred thousand credits. She literally needed me to marry Susan. Then I found the forged documents my mother had filled out for me in my name. I discovered It was surprisingly easy for her given that she had an unhealthy access to my shroud for research purposes in her lab. I often got to test out new shroud augments and she needed access to my wetware from time to time. Signing the papers with my shroud signature was laughably easy. Not only was my mother on the hook, but so was I. I asked my lawyer to look into it, but she stated that on the surface it looked like I had legally agreed to the marriage. Deeper digging might find fraud, but that would cost literally thousands. Probably more than it would if I pulled out of the marriage. Nothing spurs inspiration better than a no win situation. The Colonial Expeditionary Service Marine Corps. were not a legal military branch of the New Shanghai Planetary Government, and had no legal obligations to the planet, nor did New Shanghai have any ability to command or compel the CESMC to do anything that it didn¡¯t want to. So long as I have no existing warrants, liens or outstanding personal private debts (and the money my mother had taken in my name still didn¡¯t count), or financial fines payable to the government I could leave the planet however I wanted. With whomever I wanted. For any legal reason. I guessed it would take a few weeks to a few months for my absence to be legally confirmed. Several months for legal filings and a case to be made citing my mothers research firm as a financially culpable party. Several more months or years for the trial, delays, and appeals. I even gave my lawyer an upfront sum of money and power of attorney to represent me to a small degree. In the meantime she was investigating the signature fraud a little. But it wouldn''t matter for me, not in the long run. By then I would be in a deep freeze stasis pod on my way to the other side of this end of the spiral arm in relative space time. It meant leaving my few friends, my job, and my career. But I also gave up on a no-win situation. I felt bad for my mother. In all likelihood her lab would be absorbed by Ander Corp in the fall out. She didn¡¯t have the creds to pay her debts to them. Her liquidity issues were what most likely put her in the situation in the first place. Ander Corp. might have even floated the idea to her. She was very very intelligent but not always wise. I doubt she would have caught on if anything shady was going on. It was a fifty-fifty toss up if Ander Corp. would still keep her as the lab head. The lab, its patents and new research was literally driven by her. She might be allowed to stay long enough for Ander Corp. to find a team to replace her. Who knows. Ahead of me the space bound transport sat resembling a massive toad. It was painted a scratched ugly yellow color. On its sides parts of the paint was missing and replaced with scotch marks. Its bulk out massed many of the buildings that surrounded it including the terminal building that normally only handled shuttles. Stubby antigrav emitters protruded from its sides and the enormous thrusters took up nearly half of the exposed surface of the outer skin. I had never seen a surface landing vessel this large before. I didn¡¯t know vessels this large could land on the surface of a planet. Everyone on the field waited for what came next. With nothing better to do I watched the digital clock across the landing pad. By 17:30 The sergeants had finished with the last recruit. The earlier rain was now a heavy downpour. Still we waited. Only a handful of dim Space Port lights illuminated the landing area, but a blindingly bright set of powerful spotlights from the landing craft illuminated the field and side of the Orbital Port building. Thirty minutes later, I thought I may have seen my mother¡¯s secretary through the window on the inbound/outbound shuttle passenger side of the Orbital Station¡¯s windows. No doubt looking for me. Someone did try to walk onto the field but the marines guarding the door stopped them. They argued with them inside. The heavy rain, crowd, and flood lights made seeing anything from inside impossible. Besides, the newly shaven head of two thousand recruits camouflaged me. After a few minutes they were escorted out of the building. Five minutes later, the largest man I had ever seen in my life calmly walked down a massive ramp that led into the cavernous interior of the landing vessel, paying the rain no mind. He stood surveying us for a long minute. From an inside pocket he fetched a small microphone and spoke calmly, laconically even. ¡°Once your cohort is called you will have three minutes to get your asses onto this transport. Once that hatch closes you are the property of the Colonial Expeditionary Service. For the next ten years you belong to us. After that hatch is closed if you wash out in training we will drop your useless ass on the nearest habitable world with a Colonial presence. We don¡¯t care which, and It won¡¯t be here.¡± I noticed a few of my potential coworkers nervously glancing around. I did too. However I was getting on the vessel no matter what. ¡°There is nothing that I can do to make you walk onto that ship,¡± the unidentified man continued, ¡°If this isn¡¯t what you want, all you have to do is nothing. That hatch will close and we will fly away without you. Let me be clear I actually don¡¯t want you on that ship. Each and every one of you are a pain in the ass I can¡¯t afford. Each of you will cost the CESMC time and money. Time and money to train, to equip, and to feed and house. But the CESMC needs new recruits to replace all of the other actually useful soldiers that died and retired.¡± ¡°Your recruiting sergeant should have already explained this to you. But if you were sleeping through the sales pitch let me cover it again. Once you get on that transport, you owe us ten years of real time service, after your training has completed in eighteen months. If we need to ship your carcass to the other side of the galaxy and you spend a thousand years in FTL in relative space-time frozen in status you will still owe us ten years of service once we thaw your asses on the other side. Once we leave this rock it is highly likely that you will never see it or your loved ones again. And if you do they will be decades older. Make no mistake this is a one way trip whether you like it or not. Your life on this rock ends now.¡± ¡°When the sergeants call you, get on the ship, or not. I don¡¯t care.¡± He stowed the microphone, turned and walked back onto the ship. At this the sergeants started to shout at us. I was surprised that it actually did take less than three minutes to move over two thousand people up and onto the ramp leading inside. The sergeants shouted at us the entire time. I was among the last only because of a traffic jam at the opening onto the ship. I turned to look one last time at the skyline of my planet and home and noticed a few recruits still standing on the landing pad not boarding. At the last moment one young girl screwed up her courage and leapt onto the boarding ramp after it started to close and was a foot off of the ground. The ramp did not stop closing and she slid the last few feet in before the inner doors closed, nearly squashing her. She got to demonstrate the proper way to do pushups for her recklessness once aboard. Then for the next eight weeks we all go to follow her example several times a day. The Death Of Hope Scott looked at her with an infuriatingly cold indifference. It hurt more than the angry words he had said to her five years ago right before disappearing. He was thinner. Muscular without being muscled. He had changed his hair style. It was shorter and cleaner, but was also balanced with a short, neatly groomed beard. It suited his face. He wore what looked like cheap aviator sunglasses, so he had changed to contact lenses or gotten lasik. He looked good. ¡°Annalise¡­ this is a surprise.¡± he said to her evenly. Emotionlessly. Not Annie, like he used to call her in better times. In the past. When he still loved her. She wished he would call her Annie like he used to. He removed his sunglasses and hung them from the neck of his t-shirt. She loved that color of his gray-green eyes. She wondered if it was a surprise because he never intended to ever see her again? When they last parted she had every intention of trying to mend things, to make it right between them. She had stopped talking to Bram, blocked him and swore to never go to the bar he liked to again. She had wanted to tell Scott that she was sorry, to atone for her sins and do whatever it took to make things right. Instead, a few days later he removed the odds and ends he had left at her apartment while she was at work and left the spare key she had made for him on the coffee table. Until this moment she had not seen him again. By the time she had found her way back to Bram¡¯s favorite bar, when she finally accepted that Scott really was gone, he had moved on as well. Permanently, it seemed. ¡°You look well,¡± he said with the same enthusiasm as someone commenting on the weather. Five years¡­ She had dated off and on. And though many of her girlfriends were getting married and trying to match her with friends of friends and coworkers, she resisted getting serious with any of them. More often they were placeholders. She needed a date for a dinner or event. She had a spare ticket to a show. Or, so she wouldn¡¯t be lonely. Short term flings. Boring sex. Lackluster dates. Men that weren''t Scott. In the back of her mind she knew who she wanted. But, he was absent. So she waited. It was pathetic, she knew it. Her friends called her fickle, perhaps she was. What it really meant was she kept most men at arms distance. In the back of her mind she always had a hope that whatever they had both done in the years they were apart she could bridge the gap and bring him back to her. She had heard from the friend of a coworker that worked at this hotel that he was back in town for a conference. She asked if he was with anyone and he said he checked in with someone named Ronny Villarreal. Hope surged through her. She had debated with herself for a few days on whether she would go see him. After a lot of thought she made her choice before backing out. She bribed that same friend of a coworker who worked here to give her his room number. She was embarrassed to say she waited for him to leave rather than knocking for about an hour. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. ¡°Scott¡­¡± she tried on a nervous smile, ¡°how have...¡± A voice interrupted her. ¡°Honey? Where are you?¡± The voice was followed by a prettily dressed younger woman. She had a Latin American accent and the rich dusky brown skin and black curls to go with it. She was short, only reaching his chin. Her face was heart shaped and though not overly pretty it was comely. She was curved in the hips and breasts in a way that Annalise tall willowy frame never would be. She was also heavily pregnant and it was only then that Annalise noticed the wedding ring on her left hand cradling her stomach. She closed the hotel room door behind her. ¡°Oh! Hello,¡± she greeted Annalise warmly with a smile. ¡°Uh, hi¡­¡± Annalise responded suddenly feeling very out of place. Scott turned his head to look at the woman, ¡°Ronnie, are you ready to go? My parents are already at the restaurant,¡± he said to her. ¡°We can stop for a few minutes if you want to talk. To catch up with¡­¡± she looked at Annalise skeptically, ¡°an old friend¡­?¡± Ronnie asked, letting the end of the sentence hang. ¡°Nah, that¡¯s okay. We need to go.¡± Turning to Annalise he said, ¡°Like I said, it was a surprise seeing you again.¡± He wrapped his left arm around Ronnie¡¯s shoulder. Annalise noticed his gleaming wedding band as he did so. With a faint smiling of the eyes he said ¡°You be well, okay?¡± It was a clear dismissal. Scott turned Ronnie towards the elevator and walked her down the hall. While they walked away she heard Ronnie ask Scott, ¡°Who was that? It was rude to not introduce us.¡± ¡°It''s okay, she was just someone that I used to know.¡± As he said this his hand moved down to her lower back and bottom and caressed it. Annalise walked to the other end of the hall to a window overlooking the parking lot. She watched out of the corner of her eyes as they shared some light PDA while waiting for the elevator. Then after the elevator doors closed they were gone. From the window at the end of the hall Annalise watched the two walk to their rental. Before Scott helped her get in he pulled Ronnie in for a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He whispered something to her and chuckled when she ducked her head into his chest. Annalise noticed the blush and furtive glance around the lot. She then mouthed ¡®not here¡¯ to Scott and glanced around the parking lot once more. Ronnie then caught Annalise spying on them from the upstairs window. She ducked again into his collar and let Scott help her into the car. Then he was gone again. Like five years ago. And Annalise was alone once more. Option B The girl, Sarah Gold, was alive, though barely. Ethaniel leaned against the alley¡¯s grimy wall and willed his wings and tail to disappear so they didn¡¯t get dirty. He looked down at her. She was limply splayed out in the dingy alley. Her pants and panties were nowhere to be seen but she wore a stained puffy jacket and dirty tee. Used needles and other drug paraphernalia told him how she was going to die. Her legs were a map of drug addiction and the thin parallel scars of self inflicted abuse. A needle still protruded from her inner thigh near her crotch. It was a pity, he thought, she was still pretty enough. She was young. As a demon, Ethaniel had difficulty judging human ages unless they were very young or very old. Still, he guessed she was somewhere in her early twenties¡­ maybe, based on her clothing more than her features. He could save her, he thought. Make a 911 call, administer CPR. There were times he wanted to break the rules and stick it to the powers that be. He was tempted to use the small bottle of Narcan in the kit he had lifted off of the paramedic at his last retrieval assignment. But, there were rules. And, rules were still rules. So, instead he waited. The angel silently alighted on the closed dumpster at the end of the alley and startled him and he only just stopped himself from flinching. Ethaniel nodded to the Host and pretended to ignore the monstrosity. His huge coal black wings spread wide filling the small space blocking the light. His massive bulk looked too large to rest seemingly weightless on the blue plastic lid of the dumpster. The spear with a golden cover over the blade doing more to put him at ease in the presence of his kind¡¯s ¡®hated enemy¡¯ than his seeming passivity. The truce notwithstanding. The Angel¡¯s presence also told him that her end was near. Judgment would be passed and they would both go on their way until the next soul to save or damn. A sigh of impatience from the angel drew Ethaniel¡¯s attention to it. He was puzzled when the angel pulled a smartwatch from under his clothing and consulted it. It grunted and composed his face into a grimace, glanced at the girl, then flared his wings. ¡°Her death is taking too long. There¡¯s no point in dragging this out,¡° the Angel said, ¡°let''s get this over with. I say she is damned. What say you? Hurry up, spawn, I have places to be.¡± Ethaniel gave the angel an annoyed look. What an asshole, he thought. ¡°Never expected you to be a rule breaker,¡± he told the giant. His only response was a grunt. Still, rules were rules. He knelt down and touched her forehead with a finger tip. Memories and experiences flooded his mind. Her fifth birthday party with a pony. Learning to drive. School. A specific day in the second grade in which nothing of note happened but she never forgot nonetheless. Her father forcing himself on her repeatedly after she started developing as a girl. Laughing with friends. The taste of ice cream. Kissing a boy in the backyard on his birthday. Her first taste of heroin. Killing her pimp last week and stealing his money. The summer she spent with her grandmother when her parents were arguing all the time and she thought she would be okay. The time she saved a kitten from a dumpster and tried to keep it only for her dad to toss it out into the street. Her last taste of heroin when she deliberately took so much that she knew the pain would stop. Buying shoes with her mother when she was seven. Watching¡­ She was funny and smart. She liked small animals and children. It amused him to watch some of the pranks and jokes she played on her friends to lighten their days. The memories of her playing in her special place with her dolls, an attic closet. When her parents argued it made her sad and anxious. The memories of her standing up to bullies in elementary school made him proud of her. And the memories of her sexual abuse made him angry. He contemplated finding her father and orchestrating his death just so he could pass judgment personally. He sifted and watched as he got to know this dying girl. To let her memories be seen. At the end of her life she was alone. She was also alone a lot of the time she was surrounded by people. He wanted to have at least one person know her. Hear her. Be able to say they liked her, even if for a moment. Her memories would fade from his mind in time, but he wanted to give her this last moment of connection, even if she was unable to share it. He sifted through the dying girl¡¯s memories. A middle class lifestyle as a child followed by hard times after her parents divorced. Sexual abuse. Drug addiction to numb the pain of living. Addiction. Lying. Theft. Prostitution. Murder. Suicide¡­ Sadness. A lot of sadness. She was twenty-four years old. A short, painful life that ended too early. He felt pity for her. It was ironic that a demon should have more empathy for a lost soul than one of the Father¡¯s ¡®chosen¡¯. ¡°Agreed,¡± Ethaniel sighed. ¡°Damned.¡± Rules were rules. ¡°Purgatory?¡± the Angel asked. Ethaniel again sighed, ¡°No.¡± ¡°Fine. Judgement passed.¡± With the angel¡¯s words a heaviness passed and settled into the girl. Her final judgment. The Angel flared his enormous wings, tensed his muscles and flung himself into the air. What a rule breaker, Ethaniel thought, judgment was never to be passed until the life of the mortal had ended. He could feel the still living girl¡¯s heart weakly beat. He fiddled with the Narcan kit that he had stolen the week before. Glancing around to make sure that the angel had truly gone he measured out a dose of the opiate countering drug, shoved the needle into her chest and slammed the plunger. Then he waited. Patience was his one true gift. The drug took time to take effect. He placed his finger on her body once again and noted the multitude of small injuries to her body and mind from the drugs and sexual abuse. He let his magic heal what it could and lessen the damage of those wounds that it couldn''t. The sun set and the temperature began to drop. A thick snow started falling. Ethaniel used some of his magic to raise the temperature. A pair of men with bad intentions wandered into the alley. Ethaniel gave the pair feelings of fear and unease. The pair walked out as soon as they entered. A policeman walked by using his flashlight to illuminate the end of the alley he was in. Ethaniel used his magic again to make the cop see not a half naked girl and demon but a pair of cats lounging. If he stopped intervening for her she would no doubt still die and he would still have a new soul to add to the pile already in the pit. Ethaniel was contemplating his last instructions from his boss, a job change after this retrieval, and mulled over a second alternative for Sarah. In time the girl roused. She was just aware enough to see him. He let her see his horns, wings, and tail. He unleashed his demonic aura. He was beautiful and fearful to look at. His appearance was unnerving when his demonic features were hidden. Now his features could arouse and terrify at the same time. He sensed the exact moment when she saw him. Her weak heart started to beat faster and her breath quickened. ¡°Good evening Sarah,¡± He smiled at her. His fangs no doubt causing her breath to quicken still. He sat on the grimy ground criss-cross applesauce, leaned back on his hands, and relaxed his posture. His tail wrapped around his waist and he tapped the tip against his leg. Sarah tried to get up and move away from him. He could see the panic in her eyes. Her already weakened body was starting to stress and he feared that if she didn¡¯t calm he would end up needing to throw her soul into the pit anyways. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Who the fuck are you? What¡¯s with the costume? Where¡­¡± She looked around the alley in a disoriented panic. Noticed her missing clothing. Saw the needle still in her leg. Memory, realization, and horror struck her at the same moment. At this her heart did start racing again. ¡°I see you have realized the situation you are in,¡± he smiled sadly at her. ¡°I am afraid to say that judgment has been passed. You have been damned. The only question that remains is how exactly you have been damned.¡± Ethaniel reached into his coat and retrieved a small glass bottle of reddish liquid and showed it to her. Inside one very small wormlike creature squirmed. A demon spawn larvae. A gift from his boss for that new job. For his new assistant. ¡°Get the fuck away from me,¡± Sarah said. Her legs weakly tried to push her body away from Ethaniel. She could only barely move from him and he simply reached out and snagged her leg and dragged her back. ¡°No!¡± she screamed. She kicked and hit at him, squirming to get away. Ethaniel grabbed her by the neck and pinned her to the ground, the melted snow soaking her puffy jacket. When he did so she screamed and grabbed his arm and hand trying to pry him off of her. Ethaniel¡¯s famed patience finally snapped and he stood holding her by the back of the neck. ¡°Sarah, we have other places we need to be. Come with me.¡± So saying he formed a magical portal to hell and walked through it right next to The Pit. Sarah continued the kick and thrash at him until the change in temperature caught her attention and she froze, panic filled her eyes. He held her body over the flames by her neck. Embers alighted on her skin burning her. Below the screams of the damned wailed ceaselessly. A burning wind cut her skin causing blisters to well up across her exposed legs, bottom, and crotch. In hell his body grew into his full demonic form. He was naked. His muscles swelled and his face changed from the human form it had to the true demon he was. Clearly not human. His skin was now so black that it looked like light simply disappeared into it. His legs changed shape to digitigrade clawed feet. He was slightly hunched in this form but still taller than a typical human male. His eyes glowed as if embers from the eternal fire rested in his eye sockets. He was beautiful and alien at the same time. Adjusting his grip he turned her around so that she looked right at him. Looking deeply into her eyes he said in an unnaturally deep voice, ¡°this is Option A.¡± He turned her and held her to his chest and made a slow 360 degree turn letting her take in the sights of the unending punishment that humanity was doomed to for choosing Ashera over the Father. Gouts of fire illuminated the landscape randomly. Fire blackened rocky hills and dunes of ash surrounded the bottomless pit of eternal fire. Beyond that a featureless plane of unending ash and jagged stone extended in all directions. Roiling clouds of what looked like fire and smoke covered the sky. A lingering scent of sulfur permeated the air. The exposed skin Sarah¡¯s legs were getting covered in small burns and blisters from the blowing embers rising from The Pit. The material of her puffy jacket was covered in small burn holes and the fluff on the hood had singed. Her face was a rictus of fear and panic. Ethaniel felt her heart race and her breathing quicken. He hated to expose her to this, but she needed to know what the alternative was if she refused his offer. In the distance another demon dumped a thrashing naken human shape on top of the pile of damned flame-charred souls. It shrieked and the flesh of its body started to burn away, only ending as its lungs and lips were burned away. It never stopped moving however. This was its punishment. Eternal torture. Never ending pain. He formed the portal again and stepped back onto Earth. This time into a reasonably nice apartment miles away from the alley he found her in. He dropped her to the floor and set the bottle with the demon spawn next to her. The grime from the alley and ash from The Pit stained his hardwood floors. Sarah had soiled herself. She was gasping and clutching at her burned legs. Her urine made a puddle on the floor. The room was dark, illuminated only by the streetlights coming in through a large open window that showed the NewYork skyline from the New Jersey side. Comfortable modern looking white leather, wood and stone furniture was tastefully scattered across an open floor plan. ¡°This is option B,¡± She rolled over onto her back and looked up into his face. He had changed back into a handsome man that appeared to be somewhere between the age of thirty and forty-five. Dark haired and light skinned, he had very blue eyes and very white teeth. He was dressed casually in jeans and a green cable knit sweater. His feet were bare and his toes were immaculately manicured. When he looked at her this time it was with a look of concern and pity, not the face of the demon. Sarah¡¯s panic continued. ¡°What is happening?¡± she asked. ¡°You,¡± Ethaniel paused for effect, ¡°have been damned by the powers that be.¡± He walked over to a white leather armchair and sat. He folded one leg over the other and laid hid arms limply on the arms. He looked at her, waiting. ¡°What,¡± she licked her chapped and burnt lips, ¡°what does that mean?¡± ¡°The simple answer is that when you die, you go to hell. No detours or other options. Had I not intervened you would be a corpse in that alley slowly freezing solid. Your soul forever burning in that pit I just took you to.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she asked. ¡°Darnell¡­,¡± he simply answered. The expression she gave him was not fear or horror but anger. A boil rage. ¡°But¡­,¡± her fists balled tightly, ¡°but he was an evil asshole,¡± she started crying. Slow large tears rolling down her face. ¡°He was fucking evil¡­¡± ¡°Very true. But it was not your place to cast judgment, or exact punishment.¡± Ethaniel flicked imaginary lint from his jeans. ¡°Also, you also successfully committed suicide before redeming yourself.¡± ¡°But¡­ I¡¯m not dead.¡± She cried. ¡°Only because of my infernal intervention.¡± He leaned back in his seat and studied her. ¡°If I were to let you walk out that door right now and even if you were to live the greatest life ever. Become a saint. Did great works of true good, and fought all the evils of this world and succeeded, you would still be damned. Forever sentenced to burn in The Pit. Those flames are your future. It doesn¡¯t matter if you want them or not... Unless you take Option B¡± Ethaniel left Sarah to cry on his floor for a few minutes while he busied himself in the kitchen. When he came back he placed a bottle of Cherry Pepsi and a turkey sandwich next to her. He left the room to use the toilet and give her some space. He could find her if she left. It would be a challenge to explain to his neighbors why a half naked burn victim was fleeing his apartment but he could. He took a few minutes to wash his hands and face. He always felt dirty when returning from The Pit. Even if he could shake off the soot and ash when crossing the portal. When he returned to the living room he found her huddled up on his white leather couch with a throw wrapped around her hips munching on the sandwich. Her knees were huddled against her chest and her arm held them protectively. Her tears had dried up but she still looked emotionally fragile. The bottle of Cherry Pepsi remained untouched. ¡°Not a fan?¡± he asked, gesturing to the bottle. She caught his meaning and stated, ¡°Pepsi.¡± As if Pepsi were ¡°urine,¡± or ¡°kitten puree.¡± Ethaniel went back into the kitchen and returned with a cold bottle of water. After handing it to her he sat down on the far end of the white leather couch and waited. He was good at waiting. Part of being good at waiting was knowing when to wait and when not to. The secret to waiting was to not fill the time up with other tasks, but to focus on the task at hand. So, Ethaniel watched Sarah as she ate. And then waited a while longer as she sat and thought. Time passed and the sun rose, giving New York City a hazy winter dawn glow and illuminating his living room. His neighbors noisily woke around them. The sound of his upstairs neighbors¡¯ children running and stomping like elephants sounded through his ceiling. A noisy garbage truck collected garbage down his street. It was accompanied by an increase in the traffic noise coming from his window. The small sounds of doors slamming and engines starting quietly filled the space. Still he waited. Finally she asked, ¡°What¡­, what is Option B?¡± The Sacrifices We Make A soft knock on the support post to Selemnus¡¯s tent preceded an almost as soft, ¡°Master¡­¡± He watched as Iona, his guard, gently pushed a short plump woman barely past her girlhood into his tent and then just as swiftly secured the door behind her. Iona was his most faithful soldier. If she felt that his slave¡¯s presence in his command tent was safe he would ask her about it later. Selemnus looked over his slave. She was acquired recently in¡­ trying circumstances. Fucking debt collectors, he thought to himself. She stood nervously in the doorway fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. Though she was young she was just starting to blossom into her womanhood. Her body was a little plump and short, unlike most of the farmer¡¯s daughters in the area. The amount of work needed to bring in the harvest combined with not always having enough food made the locals thin and wiry. They favored strong children and the region tended toward tall. She on the other hand had some curve to her hip and breasts that were above average for the region despite her height and her life as a farmer¡¯s child. She was plain faced¡­ ish. Her eyes were big but her nose and mouth were small. But then again, Selemnus wouldn¡¯t exactly be able to tell humans for attractiveness, he was a wolven beastkin. ¡°What can I do for you tonight Melanie?¡± The name fit her. She was darker skinned than the locals, a light dusky olive that he had seen on military campaigns in the southern lands. Her dark curly hair stood out in that it was not blond or straight like the locals. She was clearly not the ¡®daughter¡¯ of her mother who was closer in body shape and bearing to the locals. Perhaps she was the daughter of a slave or traveler. Maybe she was a bastard like him. He guessed it didn¡¯t matter much now. ¡°I wanted to ask if you could do something for me?¡± She still fiddled with the hem of her tunic. Her eyes flicked up to his briefly before swiftly looking away. God, he realized she was nervous. ¡°It depends on what exactly you need.¡± He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs. This was a good distraction, he had been sitting too long at his desk anyways. She approached his desk, her eyes still not meeting his, ¡°Um, last week my mother made you an offer¡­¡± He remembered the offer. Her mother had limped in asking to see him. She was still recovering from the ¡®treatment¡¯ that the debt collectors had put her through while waiting for him to rule on the division of the debt collection after her husband had abandoned her and her daughter when they had come to seize his farm and family as collateral. She was still recovering from the physical trauma of the rape she had endured, not to say the emotional trauma. Still she walked in asking him to spare her daughter¡¯s chastity if he would accept her as his bed slave. She offered to submit herself to anything as long as Melanie was spared. Selemnus only had to reach out to caress her cheek for her to close her eyes and flinch away. He sighed at the time and simply said to her, ¡°I will take your offer, but you need to heal more before you are ready for me.¡± He didn¡¯t think she would ever be ready for him, no matter how much she healed. ¡°Yes, what of it?¡± He asked curiously. She glanced up at him through her lashes, ¡°... will you take me instead of her?¡± ¡°Curious. Why should I? I made a deal to protect you and preserve your virginity in exchange for your mother serving me in my bed. She is comely and I would be eager to use her in my bed.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want her to be hurt more,¡± she looked up at me with a pained expression on her face, ¡°when they¡­¡± She paused to take a breath, ¡°when those men raped her they did so because she put herself in front of me and told them they would get more money selling me as a virgin than not. She then made the same deal to them as she did to you.¡± She shuddered. ¡°They hurt her a lot. I saw it all. She was hurt because of me. I don¡¯t want her to be hurt anymore¡­ I¡­¡± Selemnus has been an Imperial soldier since he was twelve and the madam at his mother¡¯s brothel accidentally caught him masturbating while watching one of the whores serving one of her clients through a peephole. She sold him to military recruiters the next week. The day he left was the last day he had cried. In the sixteen years since he has seen soldiers with severed limbs, terrible injuries and so much death fresh battles no longer give him nightmares. He was hardened and callous to life. But, he was unsure what to do with a crying girl. Comforting people was not a skill assigned to the Centurion of a Cohort. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door to his tent open and Iona mime and wordlessly say, ¡°hug her.¡± So Selemnus did. He held her for long minutes while she cried. Her body was warm and soft against his. He was slightly ashamed to admit that her form pleased him. His mother was one of the vanishingly few humans that could be impregnated by a beastkin. He supposed the bits of him that were human were responding. From time to time Iona would peek inside to keep an eye on the two of them. She was a quiet presence in the room without being inside of it. Selemnus was grateful for it. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. It wasn¡¯t until Yassica rushed into his command tent in a panic that the two disengaged. The panicked look on her face changed from one of a mother concerned for her daughter¡¯s chastity to one of concern when she found Selemnus comforting her with gentle caresses while she quietly cried against his chest. Selemnus didn¡¯t even realize that he was singing one of his favorite lullabies that his mother sang to him when he was still young and she hadn¡¯t been taken by the sweetleaf smoke. ¡°Master¡­ I¡­ are you?¡± she stammered. ¡°Your daughter is very brave,¡± He tucked her against his chest again and rested his muzzle on her head behind her ear. ¡°She has seen much that no one should see. She was even brave enough to come to me and offer herself in your stead as my bed slave if I would spare you.¡± Selemnus gave her a quirked eyebrow. In return Yassica gave her daughter a scolding glance. He caressed her back again as she shrunk into his embrace at this comment and her mother¡¯s harsh unsaid rebuke. ¡°Yes, she is very brave.¡± He called out, ¡°Iona!¡± The taurian beastkin poked her large head through the doorway she then entered and saluted, ¡°Centurion, how may I serve?¡± ¡°Will you please take Melanie to the kitchens and ensconce her with the old aunties that are cooking tonight?¡± He gently pushed Melanie off of his lap. ¡°Please have Helena escort her back to my rooms when she is finished helping make tonight¡¯s meal if you would.¡± Iona saluted again and simply said, ¡°Centurion!¡± She then took Malanie¡¯s small hand in her large one. Selemnus watched them disappear through the door and into the lane formed by the tents of his Cohort. Before the door closed he noted that she called out to young Jasper who was lounging in the courtyard and pointed at the door to his tent. Well at least Jasper would keep out those who had no right to be inside even if he wasn¡¯t good for much else. That left Yassica and Selemnus in his tent. A silence stretched between them. She refused to look at him. Where Melanie had fiddled with the hem of her tunic Yassica stood as still as a statue. She looked at the ground unmoving. Her face was blank and Selemnus noticed that her eyes had lost their focus. When she did move again it was to untie the ties to her tunic. She slipped it off her torso and then slipped her skirt off to puddle at her feet. Her ample breasts were bound with a cloth that wrapped around her torso. A loincloth protected her crotch. With shaking fingers she fumbled with the ties to her small clothes. At this Selemnus stopped her with gentle hands. He drew his own cloak from the peg that it rested on and drew it around her shoulders. It was then that he noticed the small tattoo symbol between her breasts. The symbol of the Maiden Crone, Olses. Goddess of childbirth, virgins, and the innocent. Her worshipers were chaste throughout their lives. Instead of forming families they gathered orphans and took care of those cast off by society for whatever reason. Some would ¡®marry¡¯ for appearances, others would gather in small communes and share their resources in common. Their sect was secretive and settled in isolated areas. Selemnus caresses the symbol with a finger, a teardrop with a crescent moon at the bottom. Its horns facing upwards. Out of the upturned moon a leaf sprouted. It was a symbol of Olses¡¯s most devout worshipers. No wonder Melanie didn¡¯t look like her. And Selemnus also knew that Yassica¡¯s rape was her first and only experience of sex. Selemnus tipped her face up to look at him. She was crying, large drops running down her cheeks. Well, he decided to take Iona¡¯s advice to heart twice in the same day and hugged her to him. She was warm against his fur. He liked the way her breasts felt against his chest. The smooth look of her thighs as they peaked out of the bottom of his cloak. He felt his cock begin to slip out of his sheath. And he chastised himself. Because he also could not ignore the shaking of her shoulders as she sobbed. ¡°I think you too have been brave,¡± Selemnus said quietly into her ear. When she started sobbing more heavily he simply held her tighter and let her cry herself out. The late afternoon sun had finally set before she pushed herself away and with shaking hands tried to take his cloak off. She couldn¡¯t look him in the eyes as she tried. Once more Selemnus stilled her hands with his own. ¡°If I took your offer I would be more of a monster than the men who violated you. I offer you my protection Priestess of Olses.¡± Iona was obviously listening in and he heard her fumble and drop something outside his door. She was a sticky beak that couldn¡¯t keep a secret. He looked over at the door again and noticed one of her eyes peeking in. He waved her off with his free hand. Well the secret would be out before the sunrise. To Yassica he said quietly, ¡°none will violate you or Melanie. On my order.¡± Yassica quietly nodded and turned to gather her clothing. Selemnus took his seat and lit a lamp to catch up on the work he had neglected that afternoon. He astutely did not listen to Yassica dressing, ruthlessly didn¡¯t remember the feeling of her body against his, nor did he breathe a breath of relief when she left his tent. Instead he worked late into the night trying to not think too much of the tragedy of his slaves life. A Virgin, a priestess devoted to a goddess of chastity and virginity raped for a week. When he acquired her, her skin had more bruises than unmarred flesh. Her loins were bleeding. Her anus was torn. It took his healers days to restore her body so she could walk. It had been weeks since the day she had offered herself in her daughter¡¯s stead. Selemnus guiltily took himself in hand and masturbated. It was his one source of pleasure. He took no prostitutes having grown up with them and seen the poor lot of their lives. No human women looked his way for companionship. And there were precious few wolven beastkin in the empire and fewer still fems that wanted the life of a soldier''s wife. When his knot flared he squeezed it tightly simulating the feel of a fems sheath tightening down on his cock. When he did go to bed it was a lonely cold bed. ¡°Only fourteen years to go until I can retire,¡± Selemnus said to himself.