Kisses from Hell Read online

  One word decided fate.

  One word proved love.

  One word: free.

  Her birth mother, the inventor of Rheena’s new end, tore out of their cave, wrenched the girl’s arm from her side, dragged her down a musty corridor, and thrust her into a large hole beneath the earth. With hateful satisfaction, her birth mother left the glowing inhabitants of the massive area firm instruction: “She is to go Above with your men as they hunt. She is not to return.” Rheena received nothing from the woman as she left.

  Surrounded by hunters.

  Surrounded by fear.

  They waited for the final curve of the sun to set. There was no threat from the Others when night rose. The towering creatures were unable to survive in the absence of their sun. For stepping into the moon’s time, the dark, awakened the Reaper.

  The men Below began their ascent herded together. The mass grew hot with testosterone and killing fantasies. Rheena was groped, pushed, tripped forward as they marched

  up

  up

  up

  out of their hole.

  Ants.

  Three

  Crisp air still sprinkled with sun swirled around the girl birthed from the earth. Hunters scattered as she stood, motionless and thankful.

  At last.

  Inexperienced and young, she had no plan.

  Only hope.

  Always hope.

  “Rheena.” Her earth name floated, kissing the sky, murmuring good-byes. Home. Have I found you?

  Light from the rising moon rubbed the dark of her hair. It shone onyx appreciation. The nameless looked around. Her old tribe shot arrows of annoyance and hate into her alien figure. They knew she did not join them for the hunt. The care she used when maneuvering through the thick grasses made their anger boil. How could she respect the Above? The grass tangled her new limbs, threatening to pull her back to where she was filthy stupid fun. She looked up as they looked out. She stood with arms outstretched as they crouched in hiding, waiting.

  Always waiting.

  They sank deeper into the tall grass, camouflage. Neglecting her Above as they had Below.

  Except one. A man’s ten spidery fingers wet with acid wove silent promises into her soul.

  I will hunt you.

  Find you.

  Kill you. Lick you dry.

  Freak.

  Four

  She separated, nameless. Her cord cut.

  Alive.

  A broken spirit, she gently toured the mossy forest floor wide eyed, happy. She greeted the trees with her palms and poured her bare feet over their roots. She could feel the remnants of heat left by the summer sun and thanked the skies for their breeze.

  The hunters were still close. She had not yet escaped the proud, primal outbursts of the kill. A wounded animal’s cry shattered through new friends’ trunks. It frightened her bruised body and flipped her down on the crunch of leaves.

  The fall

  soft. Deceptive.

  What sat in wait under,

  betrayal. Always waiting.

  An Other’s trap of rope had sprung. The nameless girl hurled back. Her friend’s rough, thick frame proved unforgiving. Black spotted before her eyes, wordless beetles.

  Five

  The sun awoke and knocked on Sol’s open window. Without its presence his sleep was a coma. It tickled his neck and danced in song on his bare ebony chest.

  Wake up, sleepyhead.

  Do not go straight back to bed.

  It’s time to rise! It’s time to shine!

  It’s time to open your trap and dine!

  Music, passion. Wove jingles from nothing.

  Open your trap and dine? “That is correct. I should have one from Below waiting.”

  Waiting?

  Captured, hooked, snagged.

  Hostage.

  Murderer.

  The Other wrung his mantis fingers, cracked his giraffe neck in preparation.

  Ritualistic.

  His kill. His feelings. His movements. All planned. Forever the same.

  Murderer.

  Sol opened the front door, calm.

  Murderer.

  Eyes closed, arms opening to embrace the scream that would engulf him. Part of his present.

  Murderer.

  But nothing. His gift echoed no noise.

  Murderer.

  “Nothing?” Sol deflated. Eyes cracked open. “Wait.”

  A something.

  He robotically approached.

  “What are you?”

  The rope and leaves released, spilling the nameless. A young woman. Wrong color skin. He yearned for cloud white.

  Wrong. All wrong.

  Birdlike, he twitched fascination, curiosity. No emotion, never any.

  She is unseen, alone, new.

  He carried her inside. Placed her in his bed.

  Effortless power. Strength of the gods. Speed stolen from wind.

  Was this act compassion?

  No. Never any.

  This was wonder. Emotionless.

  Six

  With the sun awake, watching, he stayed hidden beneath dead leaves, dead bark, dead dirt.

  Separated from the other hunters. There could be no witnesses.

  Coward.

  “Whore thinks she can run away and we’ll just forget about her. Fucking freak.” Psychotic laughter fell off worm-wet lips and wrapped around the knife. His knife. “No, no, no. We weren’t done playin’. I say when it’s over, an’ it ain’t over yet.” He slept with the stink, waiting for the moon.

  Killer. Coward.

  The torture tool whispered, sadistic. Craving. Happy. Kill her.

  We will kill.

  Bleed her.

  Bleed her, taste her, lick her dry.

  She asked for it. For us to kill.

  Born a freak.

  Kill kill kill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill. Yummmmm.

  Seven

  The girl awoke to touchable sounds.

  And sun.

  Thick vibrations twisted in its heat, comforting waves uncovered consciousness, washed over her body, healing, empowering.

  Black pulled back from her eyes, revealing alien surroundings. She sat up. No words could roll from her mouth. A mind sinking heavy and blank. The music that had pulled her back to life ceased. Allowing pain to drill holes, invade from skull to spine. She winced, teeth grinding, reality fading, sleep racing to catch her. It was interrupted, cut off by deep molasses.

  “You are safe here.”

  Emotionless wonder.

  Safe. You, girl, nameless, unwanted, abused, discarded. Are safe.

  She turned to him, corking pain. Every beat of her heart matched a blink of his eyes, eggs dipped in emerald mystery, suspended in a face smooth and unlined. Below could be consumed, wither in those eyes.

  Sol nodded and continued to play.

  Music. But this was different from the harsh beats from Below.

  This was passion.

  The Other’s smooth black frame melted into the female-shaped string instrument, becoming fluid. Ink plucked off the pages he played from, constructed as man.

  His music choked her insides.

  Reshaping.

  Making new.

  Tears pricked her eyes, jumped from her chin, slid through her neck. Seen by the sun. Nude. New. Exposed.

  His song ended and his eyes toured the wet face. Innocent, beautiful.

  Beautiful. You, girl, nameless, unwanted, abused, discarded. Are beautiful.

  “I have upset you?”

  Pause

  only the leaves rustled in reply.

  “You need not be frightened. I will do you no harm. You are too…changed.”

  Emotionless wonder.

  The girl blinked slowly, pushing doubt from her eyes. He was next to her. An Other.

  Five feet took only a moment.

  Cold blew from his smooth frame. Sewed chills through her arms.

  �
��Well, I should be afraid, but…”

  I am too changed?

  “But I’m not.”

  Pain from the journey upward, to protection, sprang active. Her head burned hot, angry.

  Eyes closed

  she coiled her legs to her chest.

  Sinking again

  into opaque sleep.

  Sol caught the nameless new girl, kept her from crashing.

  A mistake?

  Their species was not destined to feel without murder. Not designed for natural emotion.

  With her touch he now felt all.

  Sucked hurt and burn from her body

  filtered through him

  leaving shadows of emotion.

  Green crystal eyes shook with her pain

  her wants

  her needs.

  Let go!

  She is unique.

  The Other looked at her

  alone

  unsure

  beautiful.

  Not knowing what happened.

  Wanting more.

  Wonder fled.

  Desire consumed.

  Eight

  She had felt the connection.

  Her life, a puzzle.

  Pieces hidden.

  One found.

  The Other blinked, stood. Again empty of emotion.

  Rational.

  “I am Sol.”

  He wanted her touch. Not her words.

  “Oh, umm…”

  Peeling her eyes from his,

  she searched for a new identity,

  not wanting to be tied to the harshness of her given name.

  “Aurora. I am Aurora.”

  She pointed toward her chest as if forcing the name within her heart. A cool, sun-scented breeze played with the ripe auburn of her tangled hair as she looked around the small room. Her eyes lifted to the windows, and she could see that she was no longer near the earth. Aurora jutted her neck forward and rushed past Sol to the line of windows opposite her.

  Her body tense with excitement and wonder.

  “How did I get here?”

  Her dangerous journey to his place in the trees had warped memories.

  “I caught you. You were unconscious, so I brought you in here and waited with you.”

  Rational.

  Emotion?

  Never. Not any.

  Except

  with her touch.

  “You caught me?”

  She turned to him. Her positivity turning to annoyance and fear. Pictures of her past becoming clear.

  Could this be the end?

  No. She had felt something. They had felt something.

  A beginning.

  She believed what he had said. She was safe. There. With him.

  And

  she was too changed.

  Aurora let her question, her doubt slide out her ears

  down her shoulders

  out the window.

  She wanted nothing to get in the way of what she was feeling.

  Finally feeling.

  Finally trusting.

  Finally happy.

  But still, curiosity lingered.

  She crossed the room. Back to him.

  “Tell me why you kill. I want to understand.”

  Nine

  He had listened to her words, but could only focus on her lips.

  They had barely moved

  yet said so much.

  Sol wanted to press his close to hers and feel. Block out words and let bodies rush together.

  He let his fantasies mellow before speaking.

  “Come with me.”

  He led her deep into his home and gestured for her to sit at a table covered in papers. Musical dots and tails flicked across the pages.

  He took a seat across from her.

  “The people you are from, their bodies are luminescent, their pupils consume and reach out for light. That light that courses through them gives us something here, Above.

  Something that we must drain.

  Something that we must drink.”

  His lips parted. A row of teeth revealed. All the same.

  He pushed his eyelids together.

  Wait.

  Two, different.

  He had released his canines. Carved to points. Sharp. Deadly.

  And gone.

  “I do it for this. My music. What you heard, what awakened you, I cannot create

  alone.

  Without your people, their brilliance

  I cannot imagine.

  I, we are absent

  of feeling, touching.

  Of having

  true emotion.”

  Sol fluttered his fingers toward her, daring himself to touch.

  “I do not need it to live;

  I need it to be alive.

  But you, Aurora, you are extraordinary.”

  Her heart crept toward her throat. She wanted to pull him to her and sob thank-yous into his chest.

  Am I home?

  “Your touch can fill me with the same life I would have had to kill for.”

  Aurora knew she should, but could not be disgusted by him and could not fear him. She had felt the same hooded emotions in her cell Below.

  Those are not my people now. They never were.

  Without thinking, she slid her hand on his. It was cool stone beneath her fingers.

  His eyes began to roll back and he closed them, inhaling.

  “What do you feel?” Aurora whispered.

  Sol smiled and opened his eyes. Aurora sat before him, waiting for approval.

  “Everything.”

  She is beauty.

  Sol reached across the narrow table and led her face to his.

  Warm lips touched, pressed. Exchanged new feelings.

  Warm lips pressed, parted. Connecting secrets.

  He had circled the table without leaving her and now tucked her body within his. He kissed her deeper and felt his fangs jut out.

  He pulled his mouth from hers.

  His first time

  embarrassed.

  Aurora smiled and slid her finger back and forth across the points of his teeth. “It’s okay.”

  She accepted him, wanted him completely.

  No more waiting.

  She pulled him back to her.

  Music, his music, fell through her body.

  Desire loosened her hands as she fumbled with buttons, zippers, ties. She had never wanted, never meant, never felt so much.

  Love, home, she has found you.

  Ten

  Night awoke and stirred sleeping promises.

  Moonlight crept into the hidden two.

  Killer. Coward.

  Wake.

  You must wake.

  We must hunt.

  The man sprang up. Fueled by the decay of his bed and sick, sweet pictures of a blood-covered girl.

  Killer. Coward.

  He scraped his drool onto the knife, charging it for its upcoming task.

  Find her.

  Killer her. The freak. The whore.

  We must kill.

  Now now now now nownownownownownownownow-nownownownow. GO!!!!!!!

  He skittered across the floor of Above. She would be easy to find. He knew her voice. He knew her smell. He knew she was close.

  Eleven

  Sol lay next to beauty, love. Staring into her as she spoke of her past, her dreams, hopes, wants, needs, love.

  Not touching.

  Still feeling.

  She had changed him.

  He had emotion without her touch. Within her, he had found himself.

  Twelve

  “Of course, the first thing she’s gonna go do is hook up with one o’ them Others and be some murderer’s slut. But he can’t protect you now, no sir. He can’t protect you at all.”

  His deranged rants were heard and answered:

  You must teach her.

  She needs to learn a lesson.

  Bleed her, taste her, lick her dry.

  She asked for i
t. For us to kill.

  He slithered up up up. Tearing clothes, scraping flesh. Unaware of pain. His knife calm, waiting nestled between wet teeth.

  Killer. Coward.

  He had reached her. Rough bark stuck to his hands, sweaty with desire, anticipation. Night cloaked him, but he still stood in shadow, drinking in the moments before he was realized by his prey.

  She asked for it.

  Kill her.

  He released the blade from his mouth and painted his lips with its excess spit.

  Kill her.

  His breath quickened, revealing his presence. She quickly turned and his body began to tingle.