Broken - Chapter 1

It was raining, and Luke was surprisingly very early for school. It was a lazy, wet sort of day. Raindrops slithered down his hands as he gripped the handles of his black bike. The sidewalk ahead of him looked treacherous: slippery puddles, looming buildings, and a heavy cloud ready to explode with thunder. But Luke was very early - surprisingly early; he had nothing to fear.

The teenager slipped himself onto the sliding seat of his bike, sighing heavily as he pulled his backpack on. Rain was splendid this time of year. Days of sweltering heat had pestered the county to a drought, yet here came the long-lost water, dripping into the cracked desert land. And Luke? Well, the rain always had nasty effects on him – damaged electronics, terrible hair, and an especially dampening mood.

Luke, after arranging everything with finality, began his bike ride to school. He did miss school a lot – all summer, actually. Nobody had invited him to the beach parties or video game sessions, and it appeared to him that all his friends were ignoring him. Maybe he’d get them back this time. Luke grinned sheepishly to himself. And maybe this time, he’d ask Marsha out on a date, and then he wouldn’t have to be alone on any summer.

As the path’s lighting began to disappear, Luke began to pedal slower, cautious of the sort of people that hung around in these parts. Long buildings with dark shapes teetered over him, threatening to close in. A scuffle was heard, and he spotted two drunkards digging in a garbage bin. As the bike approached them, they turned and stared at the boy, and their hungry eyes were frightening.

“Kid! Do you have food? Lunch?”

“I-I’m sorry,” Luke stumbled with his words, pedaling faster.

“Lunch money?!” the second drunkard called after him.

The road became a blur, and the rain pounded harder into his face. He took one hand off to rub his eyes, but with no sense of sight, Luke ran into the side of a building.

He cursed, shaking himself up before a shadow came into his wake. Luke perked up, his fist tightening, ready to defend himself, until he saw it was a little boy, barely even up to his shoulder. He loosened his grip, pouting at the child.

“What do you want? I’m not giving you any food,” he groaned.

The silent boy pulled him up roughly, dragging him down the alleyway.

“Hey, hey, kid!” Luke tugged on his shirt.

“Get off! I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ve got school.”

The boy finally set Luke down next to a dumpster, and immediately began kicking him. Pain shot up his sides, biting at his stomach, ripping at his cheeks. Luke covered himself, curling into a ball as the boy continued to hit him.

“Please! Stop it, stop – stop hitting me,” Luke called out, holding onto himself tighter.

And he did stop. After a few seconds, Luke looked over the top of his black collar, finally getting a view of the child. He was skinny, but strongly built. A black, polished bodysuit shaped his sturdy, almost feminine figure, glistening as the rain continued to pour. His nose and mouth were covered with a black cloth, tied around the back of his head to keep it in place. The boy’s chocolate eyes gleamed from the darkness, and Luke thought the child smiled. Then, with one final kick, Luke was knocked out.

***

After a spell of dizziness, Luke finally came to. He felt cold all over. His band t-shirt and skinny jeans slimily stuck to him, and he shivered. Wiping his matted, coffee-colored hair from his eyes, Luke peered at the view set before him.

Four thrones sat upon four red stairs. The far left throne held a gorgeous woman – beautiful, long red hair, a perfectly sculpted face, and a dazzling black dress. She appeared to wink at him, but Luke was distracted by her parents. Yes, they must be her parents – her old and worn-out parents. And the last chair? It was empty.

Luke blinked, licking his lips.

“He does look awfully bruised,” the mother noted.

“Be quiet, dear, that’s what they do,” the father replied.

“I suppose it’s to get the blood pumping through their veins,” their daughter spoke up.

The poor teenager immediately felt a choking sensation erupt through his body. He had been lifted up by the collar of his still-glistening raincoat, and he was gasping for air. Luke grabbed at the space before him, desperate to be set down.

“Oh, but he’s so adorable!” the daughter’s voice was heard again.

“That’s what he’s supposed to be,” her father replied, “So that you don’t taste something that looks absolutely… uh… absolutely…”

“Repulsive!” the mother piped in.

“Yes,” the father agreed.

Luke watched as the daughter stepped her way towards him, her dazzling dress gleaming behind her. She smiled, lifting a pale finger to stroke his tomato face. She suddenly looked above him, and the teenager realized that he was being held by the same clad-in-black little boy that had ambushed him in the alleyway.

“Do you know his name?” the daughter sighed.

The little boy looked on, barely flinching at the daughter’s words.

“I suppose not,” the daughter murmured to herself.

“Do you intend to keep him?” the father called.

“I suppose not,” the daughter replied, “He’s much too good-looking. And his eyes are dreadfully stunning… No, I can’t bear to take his life.”

She left, trailing her dress after her into a different room. The father sighed, glaring at the young teenager and then at the little boy.

“Does he have a family?” the father echoed.

The boy nodded.

“I suppose, proceed according to whatever protocol your commander sets you to, then,” he sighed.

“I will,” a strong, high voice called back.

And Luke realized that the small boy was not a boy, but rather a girl – and an extremely impressive girl, to say the least. He groaned as he hit the harsh cement as she dropped him. He pulled himself up, coming face to face with the strange girl. She stared at him fiercely, with some sort of hidden hatred. She grabbed him roughly by his left arm and pulled him towards two golden doors.

Luke blinked in confusion. Where was he? His muddy eyes trailed the blood red furnishings, vibrant and colorful. And then he realized all the pain he was in. His stomach, arms, and legs ached from the previous beating in the alleyway. The right side of his eye stung, and he placed his hand on it, wincing as he accidentally poked his eye.

They were outside, standing in the middle of an empty, foggy street. And it was already night.

“Hey!” Luke pulled his arm away from the girl’s grasp.

She turned around, glaring at him.

“Where am I? Where are you taking me? Who are you?”

She rolled her brown eyes, grabbing the edge of his black coat.

“It’s better if you don’t know,” she replied.

“No, it’s better if I do know,” he shouted.

The girl glared at him again and then dragged Luke through the street. He tried to pull away, but her grasp was too strong. He sighed as they continued wander along the mansions.

The atmosphere felt strange. Colder than his home. A harsh wind bit his face as they walked down the steps to a looming, purple house. Luke’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. There was a strange aura echoing from the mansion, and he shivered just by the thought of it.

The strange girl had paused in front of the door, her eyes staring fiercely at the tiger-faced knob. Suddenly, she whirled around and raised her arm threateningly, as if to slap him.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Luke asked.

“You’re disturbing the air,” she replied, “Be quiet. Don’t think. Think of nothing but that.”

She pointed to the tiger-faced knob again.

“What do you see?” she whispered, lowering her arm.

“Tiger,” Luke breathed.

“Tiger,” she repeated and then pulled Luke’s hand to rest on top of the tiger’s head.

They stood there for a while, her hand resting upon Luke’s, as if waiting for a remarkable atonement or an explosion of some sort. The girl sighed, pulling her hand back and fitting on black gloves. She nodded at him, pulling on the short, curly strands of brown hair that topped her head so that her hair was wilder than before. Luke stared in bewilderment as she stalked off the porch, falling into a dark abyss. He watched the strange evergreen trees sway, and his heart jumped when he saw the girl appear on top of one of them. She sat on a branch, her legs dangling, and her bright eyes still watching. The girl stayed there, her dark silhouette standing out from the full moon behind. After some time, Luke’s legs began to grow weak, and his hand had fallen asleep from grasping the wrinkly, brass tiger’s head.

He hadn’t been to school yet, and he hadn’t asked Marsha Lee on a date. His parents… Luke perked up from his trance. They would be worried. Nobody would believe him. This place… it was strange, and nobody would even understand him. Was he dreaming? Had he gotten knocked out after falling off the bicycle? Luke hoped he wasn’t dead.

Maybe he could switch hands. After all, both arms needed the exercise. He slid his right hand underneath his left one and sighed with relief as his opposite arm took over.

The door creaked open, and Luke pulled back in surprise, pulling the door along with him. The boy blinked, once, then twice. His mouth opened, and Luke wanted to scream. His chest tightened, his eyes blurred, obscuring his view. His legs grew weaker and weaker, and Luke stumbled. A high-pitched sound screeched into his ears, and suddenly, tears were involuntarily streaming down his face. Luke pushed his hands into his ears, trying to minimize the sound to no avail. He shut his eyes, but everything was shining brighter, screeching louder, hurting more than ever before – the door slammed closed.

Luke collapsed on the wooden porch, entirely exhausted from the event. He heard the girl seat herself next to him, but the boy was too tired, too hungry, too troubled, to speak. The girl placed her hand on his shoulder, to which Luke weakly pulled away.

“What did you see there?” she whispered.

His lip quivered, and his arms began to shake. Then, with a pang, the brown-eyed boy realized that he had forgotten. He had forgotten everything. He didn’t remember either the terrifying image he saw or the creator of such frightening pain. Luke turned towards the girl, his voice shaking.

“I-I don’t re-remember,” he cried, burying his head into his arms.

“Don’t worry, then,” the girl again placed her hand on his shoulder, “It’ll be okay. It’s always like that. People are always like that.”

Luke didn’t understand her strange words, but he eventually released his tightened grasp over his ears. He realized that his left hand clasped a silver, blank coin. The boy turned the object over and over, measuring its shine and its weight and its volume.

“It’s an omen,” the girl spoke up, snatching the coin from his hands.

“Glad to know,” Luke replied, “Give it back.”

The girl held the coin up to her eyes, trailing its curves with her index finger. A smile flashed across her face. Her eyes shone.

“It’s mine!” Luke grabbed at the coin desperately.

“Why,” she turned to him, “Are you so greedy for it? It isn’t worth anything.”

“I-I… Give it back!” the boy stuttered, scrambling to reach her hand.

“Luke!” she stood up, “Don’t you see? It’s nothing! You don’t need it. Ever.”

“That coin,” Luke stood up, facing her, “appeared in my hand, after whatever that door did to me. It belongs to me. It must be worth something.”

The girl flung it into the darkening abyss, her eyes fierce. Luke’s heart pounded against his chest, and he dove off the porch after it. But at the last moment, she had grabbed hold of his leg, and he was left dangling, staring into the deep, black chasm that had once been a patch of grass. His eyes widened. The girl pulled him back up, and they came face to face.

“I told you,” she dusted off his raincoat, “It isn’t important. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“Who are you?” Luke interjected, “What is this place?”

“It isn’t important,” she repeated.

“Everything,” the boy pushed her against the strange door, lifting his arm, “is important.”

The two stood there for a while, exchanging furious glances. Luke inhaled, the oxygen seeping through his teeth, before he struck her covered face. She stared blankly at him, and her eyes were suddenly dull, lacking the vivid light it once had.

“Do you feel better?” she whispered behind the black cloth.

“Who,” he raised his arm again, “are you?”

“Amara,” she replied, slipping underneath his arm.

She tugged at her sleek collar, staring back out into the abyss. Luke lowered his arm, following her gaze. He bit his lip and somehow managed to calm himself down. He seated himself on the edge of the porch, his legs dangling in the darkness.

“They’ve sealed us off for a while,” Amara spoke up, “It’ll be over soon.”

“And I’ll go back home?” Luke blinked up at her.

“We’ll see,” she replied.

Luke turned his head, watching the darkness cover his feet. He sighed, observing the solid blackness of the world. Amara seated herself beside him, and the cloth that had been covering her nose and mouth had disappeared from her face and reappeared in her hands. Her face was slightly tanned, not at all fair. Strange, mole-like freckles dotted her face, and a few distortions littered her head. She was not at all beautiful, nor likeable, but her eyes now contained the familiar ferocity as before. She licked her lips, wrapping the cloth around her right hand. Luke turned away, coughing.

“What?” she asked, running her fingers against the dark cloth.

“Nothing,” Luke replied, crossing his legs.

“Good,” Amara replied, “Don’t let petty thoughts take over your judgment of others. Misjudgment is annoyingly common among your kind.”

“My kind?”

“Humanity. Homosapiens. Apes. Mankind,” she stated.

“So-so you’re not human?”

Amara turned away from the question, suddenly standing up and stepping towards the edge of the porch. Luke followed. The chasm was slowly closing, and the two stepped onto solid land once again. Before taking another step, the girl paused, staring at the grass. She bit her lip, and Luke somehow instinctively knew there was something wrong. He opened his mouth to say something, but she shushed him harshly, her eyes flashing a warning. Amara held her hand up, stopping him from stepping forward.

“The air…” she whispered, putting her hand down.

She looked up at the sky suddenly, searching for something that Luke still could not quite pinpoint. The air? He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, listening, smelling, feeling for any sort of change in the wind. But there was no wind. His eyes flew open, and Luke spotted a small figure walking toward them.

“Luke,” Amara turned to him, grabbing his wrist, “Luke!”

Luke blinked, and suddenly, the silhouette was closer. Amara’s grasp around his wrist loosened. A slight breeze echoed through the boy’s hair. He smiled. He closed his eyes, strange tears randomly trailing down the side of his cheeks. Luke inhaled and exhaled, tasting the sweet, sweet air in his lungs.

“Luke!”

Someone was calling for him, and the pleading voice was silently tugging at some small part of him. But the boy ignored it, putting away the distressful feeling and embracing the strange peace that enveloped him. He reached out, feeling the air’s current as it twisted around his fingers, his hands, his arms. Luke inhaled the blissful atmosphere, but upon hearing the voice echo into his ears yet again, he exhaled sharply, opening his eyes.

Tears, pain, laughter. The dark figure hazed into view, and Luke screamed as he was suddenly strapped down from head to toe to a cold, metal table. The world around him had turned dark, and Amara was nowhere to be seen.

A small knife curved along the edges of Luke’s face, trailing down his jawline and outlining his lips. The boy inhaled sharply as the knife’s edge sliced the edge of his chin. Luke looked up to see the knife’s owner, a man with black, splattered hair and gritted teeth. He looked strangely familiar – the way he stared at him with such ferocity. It reminded Luke of a girl, some girl who was quickly fading from his memory. He struggled to remember, but he felt the knife finally make its way to his neck. He exhaled.

“I don’t think you know me,” the man whispered, “But I see you, and I smell you.”

Luke bit the inside of his cheek, glancing down at the knife. He could feel the man breathing into his ear, and after the words, the man inhaled slowly, as if sucking up the boy’s scent into his memory. The man exhaled, grinning.

“I’m going to let you go soon, and you’ll be lying on the ground,” the man breathed, “But don’t forget this. Don’t forget me.”

“I-”

The knife pressed against Luke’s neck, and the boy stopped.

“Look into my eyes,” the man smiled.

They frightened him – the eyes, and it wasn’t the fierceness that caused his stomach to turn and knot. There was a certain portion of disguised madness within the brown eyes, laughing silently as the boy gaped. The man chuckled quietly, biting the edge of his lip as he pulled away.

“Don’t forget,” the singsong voice echoed.

The terrible man evaporated into the darkness, and Luke found himself cradled in someone’s arms. Saltwater tears escaped his open eyes, thawing his frozen cheeks. He sucked in the icy molecules of air, and a young boy’s face came into view.

“You’re crying,” he whispered.

Luke pulled himself up, placing his hand on his head. He turned around to see the same young boy, a black cloth wrapped around half of his face. The strangely familiar boy slowly stood up, fiercely eyeing him.

“Who…” Luke squinted at the boy.

The young boy crouched down next to Luke, entwining his fingers into Luke’s. He closed his chocolate eyes, quietly whispering unintelligible words.

“What,” Luke attempted to pull away, “are you doing?”

The boy spoke faster, tightening his grip on Luke’s hand. Luke stood up, dragging the strange child as he walked. Yet, the boy’s voice only grew louder, and the language sounded clearer. But it was not English. Luke groaned, trying to shake the boy’s grasp off his arm.

“Qwi liuwekizu!”the child shouted, his voice trembling.

“I don’t understand you!”

“Ugawwuiqo…” the child began to cry, loosening his grip.

Luke took the chance and ran as the boy let go. Luke glanced down all the unfamiliar alleyways, searching for his bike. He needed to get home and call the police. He needed to-

“Izuqoiz!”

Amara’s voice boomed down the land, and Luke fell to his knees. He looked down at his burning palms, gasping for air as he collapsed. The girl’s uncovered face came into view as his eyelids drooped. She was smiling. Another woman appeared next to Amara. Luke’s eyes fluttered to a close.

“Congratulations, Cniz, your little human made it through.”