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.

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.

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.

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.

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.