Authors: Stacy H. Pan
Alec and Enforcer-497 are in Killian’s bedroom, agape at the site before them. People begin to sob and the noise brings Alec back to reality. He turns around to see us all standing there in shock. His eyes lock with mine for a moment, and his face is sealed in an expressionless mask. I hope my face does not betray my own tumultuous thoughts. Alec turns to Enforcer-497.
“Get the body down,” he commands. He turns back to us. “Everyone go back to work. There’s nothing else to see. You need to let the Enforcers handle the situation, and stay out of this room.” He comes up to me, grabs my arm, and starts pulling me down to the end of the hallway. His grip is too tight and causes my arm to ache.
“I told you not to come back to this part of the house,” he says angrily as he drags me away from the bloody scene.
“I heard screaming,” I say in protest.
He stops abruptly in the hallway and faces me. He looks at me intently for a moment and then his look changes abruptly from anger to something I don’t recognize. I realize that I am still wearing my tank top and sleep shorts that are too short for my taste. I feel almost naked and wish I had put on my robe. The desire to cross my arms to cover myself rages through me. However, since he is still holding my arm, I can’t perform the simple protective act. He starts to say something, but stops as people pass us in the hallway, probably heading back to their daily duties, though I don’t know how they will be able to concentrate. He watches them walk down the hallway and when they are out of earshot he continues.
“If you know what is good for you, you will stay away from this part of the house. Now, please go back to your room, put on some more appropriate clothes, and resume your day,” he pleads, this time in a nicer, calmer voice.
I start to say something, but I stop myself. I have so many questions to ask, but I know now is not the time to ask them. I nod my head in silence and he releases my arm. I rub my aching arm and start walking down the hallway and look back in the direction of Killian’s room. Alec is still watching me leave, probably to guarantee my compliance. I turn back and head to my room.
I run through questions in my head, and try to get the image of Enforcer-658’s lifeless body hanging from Killian’s bedpost. What is going to happen to her? What is the protocol for something like this? What is her pure blood going to say? Where was Killian? Does he know what happened? Then a dark question invades my thoughts and sends a shiver down my spine: did Killian do this to her? I try not to think like that. I don’t want to think that someone I know, someone living in this house with me is capable of committing such a terrible and bloody act. It looked like a suicide. Besides why would Killian make it look like a suicide if he killed her? Killian would not be punished for killing her, if he did. The events of this morning invoke my thoughts from my sleepless night. That will not happen to me! I will not be used and rented out for services. I would rather die. That poor girl probably thought the same thing. She made her choice and now she is dead.
The atmosphere in the entire house is dreary and dark all day. Not many people talk and when they do, it is in whispers, and I know they are talking about the incident from this morning. I have briefly seen Bailey today. She went shopping with some of her friends and didn’t want me tagging along. I am glad she didn’t want me to go. Who can shop after something like this has happened in your own home? I decide to help Zareh with her work. She is still shaken from this morning. I have caught her, several times, staring into space, probably thinking about what she saw in Killian’s room. I wonder if she will ever be able to clean that room again. We have heard from other people in the house that the girl’s body was “taken care of.” What that actually means, I have no idea. A special team of Laborers who specialize in sanitation were called in to sanitize the room. I am sure Zareh is thankful she didn’t have to clean it up.
Bailey returns from a day of shopping around dinnertime. She starts getting ready for the party tonight at Red. I bring her some dinner for her to eat in her room and then join the rest of the house workers in the kitchen for dinner. Zareh, Milo, Enforcer-150, and I are the only ones who show up for dinner. I guess no one else has much of an appetite. I don’t blame them as I am not sure if I have one myself. While we are eating, Enforcer-497 walks into the room with a determined look on his face. His eyes fall to Enforcer-150, who is busy eating his dinner and has not even acknowledged Enforcer-497’s presence. An anger envelopes Alec’s copy’s face and hatred fills his eyes. He punches Enforcer-150 so hard that he falls out of his chair. Enforcer-497 grabs 150’s shirt and starts punching him in the face over and over. The three of us sit frozen and stare in disbelief, not even attempting to help, for what seems like forever.
“What did he do? What did he do to her?” screams Enforcer-497 as he punches Enforcer-150 in the face.
Finally, Milo jumps up and pulls Enforcer-497 off of Enforcer-150.
“What’s your problem, man?” Milo shouts. Milo stands in between them, facing Enforcer-497.
Enforcer-497 points to Killian’s copy. “You better watch yourself.” He is red, sweaty, and visibly shaken. I never would have thought he would be fazed by death. Why would he be upset with Enforcer-150? Milo escorts him out of the kitchen. Zareh and I are still sitting at the table with our mouths hanging open in shock. I jump up and over to Enforcer-150. Extending my hand to him, I pull him up and help him sit down in a chair. Zareh leaves and comes back with gauze, wet rags, and ointment. Zareh hands him a wet rag.
“Here, hold this to your nose to stop the bleeding,” she orders.
We sit in silence in the kitchen and tend to Enforcer-150’s wounds. We wipe away the blood and put ointment on the open cuts.
“We need some bandages,” says Zareh and exits the room. I am still wiping away blood when Enforcer-150 grabs my hand. I look at him, surprised. His gaze is intense as if he wants to approach an important subject.
“Thank you,” he says with a shaky voice. “You seem like a nice girl. Nothing like Bailey. Please be careful. There are dangerous people here. Even people who you think are your friends will stab you in the back in a split second.” Before I can respond, Zareh enters the room with bandages. Enforcer-150 releases my hand and I continue wiping away blood and applying ointment in silence.
After the wounds are bandaged, I head to Bailey’s room. I contemplate what Enforcer-150 said about dangerous people being here. I wonder if he was talking about anyone specific. My first thought would be Alec. He is an Enforcer, after all. However, he told me I did not need to fear him. Maybe I am crazy, but I believe him. I saw his eyes filled with sincerity when he told me that. I was so distracted by my thoughts that I almost didn’t hear the sound of quiet sobbing coming from the room that I suppose would be used as a parlor. I push the door of the dark room open and see Enforcer-497 sitting on the floor, legs bent, and hugging his knees. When he sees me enter, he clumsily climbs to his feet.
“What do you want?” he snaps with a look of embarrassment as he wipes his hand over his cheek, probably trying to wipe away the tears.
“Are you okay?” I ask. I am surprised by his display of emotion. The few encounters I have had with Enforcer-497, he has been cold and distant. I didn’t think he cared about anyone except himself.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” he responds with annoyance.
“Oh, I don’t know. A girl is dead and you decided to attack Enforcer-150, which was uncalled for, I might add. I believe today’s events have you shaken and you are too prideful to admit it,” I spit.
“I didn’t know her. Why would I care that she’s dead?”
“Because I think deep down you do care and you don’t want to admit it to yourself or anyone else, for that matter. You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me. I see through your act.” I wave my hands in the air to emphasize my point. “Look, I just came in here to make sure you are okay, which I guess you are now, so I will go. I don’t have time for your mood swings,” I say with equal annoyance in my voice and turn to leave. Enforcer-497 is just as exhausting and irritating as Alec. He really is a perfect copy of his original.
“Wait, 656,” Enforcer-497 calls out.
I turn around to face him. “What?” The word comes out harsher than I intended.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be ugly. I don’t like people seeing….seeing me like this,” He seems to be searching for a word to match his actions.
“Vulnerable?” I ask.
“Yes. I suppose that is a good word to describe what I’m feeling.”
“It’s okay, I understand,” I sympathize and give him a smile.
“It just makes me mad….what was done to her, you know? It’s just not right. I didn’t know her, but no one deserves to be treated like that and no one should die like that,” he said sadly and looks down at the floor.
“I agree. No one should have to go through that, but she did it to herself. As awful as it was, she still took her own life.”
“Do you think she would have killed herself if Killian hadn’t raped her?” he asked. “He may not have slit her wrists and hanged her, but he is the reason she is dead. It is his fault,” he responds and pursed his lips. The anger I saw earlier as he beat on Enforcer-150 returned to his face. I don’t know how to respond because he is right. I thought back to the night before when I had accidentally stumbled upon Killian’s bedroom. I saw the look on the Enforcer-658’s face and the fear in her eyes. She didn’t want to be there, but she had to be. Forced into submission so her pure blood could make a profit. I nod my head in acknowledgement.
"Why did you attack Enforcer-150? You know he had nothing to do with that whole incident."
He looked down at the ground then back up. "I know he had nothing to do with it. Obviously I can't take my anger out on Killian. Enforcer-150 is Killian. I can't look at his clone and not see that prick. They are one in the same."
“Enforcer-150 is no more Killian than I am Bailey and you are Alec," I argue. "Though you and Alec both have some serious attitudes. I guess that's an Enforcer thing."
Enforcer-497 steps towards me and points his finger in my face. "I may be a lot of things, but I am not an Enforcer," he exclaims, obviously offended. "I am nothing like those pure blood killers.”
“They are not all killers,” I defend. "Some of them are good people.”
“You haven’t been here long enough to really see how they are. They use us and then dispose of us whenever they want. We are nothing but property to them. You think you have made friends because some of them are nice to you? If it is a choice between you or them, they will always pick themselves. You and I are nothing but a means to an end. Whenever the Researchers find a cure, one that doesn’t require the use of our blood, what do you think will happen to us? We will be slaughtered like animals. Don’t for one second think that any pure blood truly cares about you. When the time comes, you better know which side you are on.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it. I should get back to work,” he says and walks past me and out the door. I don’t believe that every pure blood is untrustworthy. I know there are people who care. When I think about Alden, Milo, Zareh, and even, sometimes, Alec, I can’t see them participating in the slaughter of anyone. I choose to believe in the good in people, even the pure bloods. Maybe I am naïve, but I can’t believe that all pure bloods are evil. I can’t help but feel sorry for Enforcer-497. He doesn’t have anyone to confide in or trust. He is completely alone and it is his own doing. It must be a lonely life when you never let anyone in, when you never let anyone see the real you.
The next month is uneventful to say the least. Every day, I go about my duties; helping out Zareh, running errands for Bailey, and of course attending every social function with Bailey in order to wait on her hand and foot. Bailey’s life is one endless party and tonight is no exception.
I find Bailey sitting at her vanity putting on the finishing touches to her makeup-caked face. She is wearing a short black and white dress with black and white pumps. Thankfully, she doesn’t tell me to change out of my red pants and red t-shirt. I am much more comfortable in my clothes. She finishes up her lip-gloss and stands.
“Let’s go!” she exclaims excitedly. We go out to the MR2 and sit on the soft purple cushions. Orlando occupies the seat in front of the control panel.
“Where’s Alec?” Bailey demands.
“He has the night off, Miss Bailey. I will be your security escort tonight,” Orlando says dryly.
“Fine.” Bailey sounds disappointed.
When we arrive at Red, there are a lot of people lined up to get in the door. I follow Bailey out of the car and up to the front of the line. A huge man in an Enforcer’s uniform is manning the red door.
“Welcome back, Miss Bailey,” he says in a deep voice.
“Thank you, Tyrese.”
Of course she can go straight to the front of the line and walk right in to the party. It is dark inside save for the strobe lights that are almost pulsing with rhythm of the music. The music is so loud and pounding that the sounds blend together, grating in my ears and making my head hurt. There are people everywhere dancing, drinking, and having a good time. People are so close to each other that under the strobe lights it is hard to tell where one person ends and another begins. Bailey shifts through the crowd until she finds Percy, while I do my best to keep up with her. Of course, Felix is standing right beside him. Bailey pulls Percy on the dance floor, leaving me with Felix.
“Would you like a drink?” Felix asks as he moves closer to me, closer than I want. He has to yell in my ear since the music is so loud.
“No thanks. After the other night, I don’t ever want to drink again,” I yell over the music while taking a step back.
“Come on. I want to show you something.” Reluctantly, I follow Felix through the crowd of bodies. We walk down a hallway away from the loud music and dancing people. I am glad to get away from the pounding of the bass but my company leaves something to be desired. Felix opens a door to a room and steps inside. There are a lot of couches in the room. The small bright lights strung around the pipes just under the ceiling give the room a very pleasant glow. There are beautiful carpets dotting the floor and the walls are covered with paint that looks old and almost forgotten. The color is a faded blue that is chipped and has different shades depending on where you look. The color is actually relaxing. I hear the door shut behind me and Felix’s footsteps as he approaches me.
“We can actually hear each other in here. People come in here to hang out away from all the chaos out there,” Felix says with a smile. His smile is nice and there is nothing about him that seems dangerous, but I still feel something is off about him.
“This is a pretty room.”
“You’re pretty,” he exclaims. He is looking at me intently with longing in his eyes. I blush and look around the room, feeling uncomfortable. He sits down on one of the couches and puts his arm over the back. “Have a seat.”
Slowly, I sit down beside him and look straight ahead. I feel awkward, rigid, and out of place. I am not sure what to do or say. Do I need to say anything at all? I can feel his eyes on me as I stare at the wall. I finally look over at Felix, who is staring at me.
“I think you are so beautiful, Enforcer-656,” he whispers as he brushes my hair behind my ear. Before I know it, his lips are on my neck and he his wrapping his arms around me. I am stunned for a moment and my mind goes blank. Finally, after I shake the sensation out of my brain, I start twisting away from him and I place my hand on his chest and push him away as gently as I can. Doesn’t he understand that this is against the law? I could be punished for this.
“Felix. I am very flattered, but this is wrong. This is very dangerous territory. This is not allowed for me,” I say apologetically. Just the thought of ‘punishment’ sends shivers up my spine.
“Am I not good enough for you?” he asks and I sense anger in his voice. When I look in his eyes, the kindness I saw before is gone, and something else much darker and more frightening is there. I feel every muscle in my body tense.
“No. It’s not like that. I just don’t want to get in trouble,” I say with anxiousness in my voice I know he can hear.
“Why have I never been good enough for you? Why do you always pass over me and go for the stupid Enforcers like Percy?” He practically spits out the words.
“What are you talking about?” I ask. His eyes are crazy, dark, and full of hurt. Then suddenly, a realization strikes me like lightning. “Felix, I’m not Bailey!”
“Yes, you are! You might as well be. You are just like her.” He is getting even angrier. He grabs me and tries to kiss me again, and instinctually I slap him across the face. The silence and stillness that follows is terrifying. I don’t know who is more surprised, me or him. He stares at me, still stunned. Before I know what to do, he reels his arm backward and slaps me across the face so hard that I cry out and the room spins around me. He lunges toward me and pins me to the couch, crushing me and kissing me violently. I writhe and wiggle until I fall off the couch and onto the floor. I scramble to get up and bolt for the door. Felix grabs me around the waist and I crash into the floor face first. My head hits the floor so hard that my vision goes black for a moment and I can’t tell which way is up. A sudden ringing in my ears is making me deaf to Felix’s words, but I am certain he is yelling at me. I feel warm liquid run down my head and onto my face. Felix flips me over almost effortlessly and he is on top of me again. He grabs my wrists and holds me down. The room is still spinning, but I can hear his words again; they are fierce and terrible, just like his eyes.
“Why won’t you give me a chance? What do you see in others that you don’t see in me?” He rains down another hit to my face and I feel liquid run into my mouth from my lip. The room is still moving around me. He takes one hand and grabs my shirt, ripping it open so that my bra and stomach are exposed. He looks down at my body taking it in with a wild and awful grin on his face. He is distracted by what he sees, so I use the opportunity and I bring my knee up with all my strength. He yells out in pain and releases me as he falls on his side, curling up into a ball. I spring up and run to the door. I look back and see Felix still laying in the fetal position, groaning and holding himself.
I run back up the hallway to the crowd of people. I pause and look around the room trying to find someone who can help me. Even through my disorientation, I see Orlando standing against the wall watching Bailey. No, I can't go to him. I don't know him. I don't know if he will protect me or punish me. I push and stumble trying to make my way through the crowd until I get to the red door. I throw it open and practically fall onto the sidewalk. I lean down and place my hands on my knees. I am panting. Tears are flowing down my cheeks. My head is pounding. What am I going to do? I can't go back inside and tell Bailey what happened. She would never help me. I'm not going back inside Red or anywhere near Felix. I know one thing is certain: I can’t stay here. It’s only a matter of time before Felix comes looking for me to finish what he started. I look into the darkness. Very few street lamps work. The most light I see is coming from the two tall buildings a few blocks in front of me. The Towers. I remember Zareh telling me that most of the workers in the Enforcer district live in The Towers. Alec has the night off. Maybe he will be there and maybe he will help me. I dread asking him for help, but I also dread asking anyone else. I pull my shirt together to hide my body and walk toward the lit towers. I can still feel blood dripping down my face, so I wipe it away and try to conceal as much as I can so no one can see.
When I reach the courtyard of the towers, there are a girl and boy sitting outside. I take a deep breath and, approach them. Their eyes widen, as they look me up and down. I must look pretty rough.
“Do you know where Alec lives? He’s an Enforcer who works for Killian Buchanan.” It had never occurred to me, until now, to find out Alec’s last name.
“Sure,” the girl says warily. “Everyone knows Alec. He’s in the East tower.” She points to the tower on the left. “He’s in apartment 805, eighth floor.”
“Thank you,” I say weakly.
I go in the East Tower and start climbing the stairs. Every step makes me more and more nervous. My head is racing with a thousand possibilities of what could happen when I find him. What will he say? What will he think? Will he believe me? Can I trust him? The dread is even more real than my aching head. After what seems like hours, I reach the eighth floor. I find the door with 805 written on it and rise up the courage to knock. I listen and hear nothing. I knock again louder.
“I’m coming,” I hear from the other side of the door. He’s home! Thank goodness. The door opens and Alec stands shirtless in sweatpants. For a moment, I can’t help but stare at his chest. It is chiseled perfection, and every muscle looks like a carved piece of art. I shake my head, and look up at him. His face is contorted with shock at my disheveled appearance. I pull my shirt tighter and search for what I need to say.
“656? What the-”
I cut him off. “I’m sorry. I….I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Come in.” He steps aside so I can enter. His face tells me he doesn’t quite know what to make of the situation. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.” He disappears down a hallway. I take a seat on the couch and look around his apartment. It is very simple and contains no personal touches. There are no pictures of a family. There is no paint on the walls, no carpet. Everything is neutral and the room feels almost bare, having only a couch, two small tables, and some lamps. There is nothing in this apartment that is unique to him. What would probably make anyone else feel cold actually makes me feel comfort and safety. Alec returns carrying a red bundle.
“These are some of my clone’s clothes. I know they are too big, but there is a belt, too. Until we get you home, this is the best I can do. You can change in the bathroom. It’s right over there.”
I look behind me to where he is pointing and spot the bathroom. “Thank you.” I almost can’t get the words out. I rise and go to the bathroom. After I shut the door, I stand in front of the mirror and stare at my reflection. The person staring back at me seems like a stranger. My hair's a mess with blood and tangles. My face is red and swollen, either from crying or the slap, or maybe both. There is a cut on my forehead and a line of dried blood running down my face. My bottom lip is split open on the right corner and it is more swollen than I thought. No wonder the people outside in the courtyard had strange looks on their faces when they looked at me. I look horrible. I splash some water on my face and try to clean up a bit. Then I change clothes quickly. They have an awkward fit, and I am thanking Alec in my head for foreseeing my need for a belt. A bottomless beat-up girl would be more laughable than pitiable. I emerge from the bathroom feeling a bit better since my appearance isn’t quite as disheveled as before.
"Come. Sit on the couch," Alec orders. I notice he has put on a black t-shirt. I do as he says and he sits beside me. A wet washcloth is hanging in his hand.
"That cut on your head doesn't look good. I'm going to clean it up." He faces me and reaches for my chin.
I want to protest and tell him that he doesn't have to clean me up and that I should probably go back to the house, but no words come out of my mouth. I feel safe here, and I do not want to leave. He has a look in his eyes that speaks trust. He touches the cloth to the cut on my head and I flinch.
"I'm sorry, but it has to be cleaned," he says apologetically.
I nod in agreement and my eyes focus on the aleuron on his wrist. The silver shines in the light as his hand moves around my face, wiping the blood away. He must have noticed me looking at it because what he says next makes me feel relieved. He pauses his doctoring of my wound and looks directly in my eyes.
"I've never used it," he says assuredly.
"Then why do you wear it?" I ask.
He continues wiping away blood. "I don't have a choice. Once it’s put on, you can't get it off."
"Oh.” We sit in silence for a few seconds before I blurt out, “What's your last name?"
"Where did that question come from?" he asks with a slight chuckle.
"When I got here, I asked people if they knew where you lived. I realized that I don't know your last name."
"Alexander. What happened to you tonight?"
"It doesn't matter now," I say and avert my eyes to the ground. I don’t want to talk about tonight's events. It is too soon, too raw to relive the events again.
"Was it a pure blood?" He asks with that familiar sternness in his voice.
"Yes." Alec nods his head with a look of affirmation and not surprise. He knew it was a pure blood the moment he saw my face. How many times has Alec seen this? Enforcer-658’s suicide didn’t seem to rattle him, so I guess this definitely wouldn’t. He finishes wiping all the blood off my face and then puts a bandage on my head.