A Yautja's Handmaid

Ch. 5

Kiss of Death

All I could think about was how freezing the water was. No other thought crossed my mind the entire time I was lowered in the giant bathtub.

It was made of pure black stone.

For a moment, I thought the water itself was black until it hit me that it was just reflecting the color of the stone. It was eerie and dark, a totally opposite theme from the rest of the house that was white as a blank canvas.

Maybe they had slaughtering parties where the blood of their prey painted the house-or maybe I was getting too paranoid.

I was half expecting a creature of some kind to jump out from the depths and attack me.

The shaking of my limbs sent ripples of waves across the water, "Jesus FUCK."

If I could have experienced the seas of Antarctica butt naked, this would have been exactly how I would have imagined it to be.

My teeth chartered so violently I thought I'd chip a filling. I felt like my blood would turn into icicles.

Two of the house servants were at my side, their glare as cold as the water. They didn't make a single sound as they moved around, doing whatever they were ordered to do to me.

My attempt to stand up was met by their meaty hands and talons, pushing my shoulders back in. Despite their strength I pushed back, placing my feet on the stone, trying to stand up.

Nothing. I couldn't move an inch.

The servant with the chin length dreadlocks reached in the water, pulling my legs from under me. The sound of my tailbone hitting the stone made me curse in pain.

"You bitch." I whipped my head in her direction. Although it was obvious she had no idea what I had said, the tone of my voice made it obvious it wasn't a compliment. The narrowing of my eyes and the flashing of my teeth made her bark.

Her crab-like mandibles stretched out wide as she lunged at me till her stomach made contact with the tub.

Definitely a warning.

My shivering intensified.

The pissed off one dipped a large cloth in the water, causing the soap like substance on it to bubble up. Quickly after, she began dragging it across my collarbone then my shoulders, chest, and legs. She didn't care to be gentle, neither one of them did.

"C-cold," I managed to get out after a few moments of silence, "th-the water is s-so fucking cold."

My words fell on deaf ears.

The other servant never let go of me, she stood behind me on her knees. Even in that posture she towed over me. Her grip was strong but it did very little to stop my shivering, the ripples on the surface of the water grew fierce.

From the moment I had been ushered to the bathroom, they had quickly stripped me of my clothes before throwing me in the water.

I knew the temperature of the water was no mistake, it was clear there was no sympathy. They didn't care to show me any bit of kindness.

I was a human, as low as a rodent to them.

Any other time I would have disliked the feeling of their touch but right then and there, the heat from their skin was heaven. The servant's hands were like two small heaters, it sent a chill crawling up my spine.

The Yautja took her time shampooing my hair with some other odd looking liquids that had an overwhelming scent. I couldn't help but cough for air, it was so intoxicating and sharp that it felt like salt was being shoved up my nose.

The Yautja yanked at my head, forcing my now aching neck to bend downward. I shut my eyes in fear of the soap getting in them.

I couldn't help but lean backwards, towards the Yautja that was holding me. I wanted the heat radiating off her.

I straightened up, telling myself it was dumb, but the cold was slowly killing me. They knew, they had to have.

I needed warmth. I needed to get out of the water.

My body acted on its own as I felt my back brush against the edge of the tub and the servant. My wet back completely rested against her chest.

It was amazing. For a moment, my body loosened up and my head tilted backwards to gain access to the source.

With a groan of disapproval, the Yautja pushed me back into the center.

I opened my mouth to protest, even beg to be let out when the cloth was thrown over my face, the icy cold water numbed my lips before dripping down my neck.

I gasped, spitting out the soap, "Get me out!" I shouted at them, the sound ripping my throat.

I couldn't feel an inch of my body, it felt like needles were attacking me at every angle.

The two servants looked at each other, evidently taken back by my outburst. They couldn't seem to believe I still had some fight left in me.

They didn't move, just looked at me, one even tilted her head to the side in amusement.

The stare off drove me over the edge, I began thrashing like a madman. The soap from my head flicked in every direction. My arms fought against her grip as my feet kicked aggressively.

Water began flooding the marble floods, "GET ME OUT!"

It was then my head was submerged under water. I felt nothing for a moment and then everything at once. I fought some more until all I had the energy for was to scream. I screamed into the water that masked my pleads.

My vision was blurry as my eyes remained open, greeting the darkness and the cold.

I stopped resisting after a minute as one of their hands continued to hold me under.

The pain that infested me suddenly stopped.

I felt paralyzed.

I wasn't even sure I was breathing anymore.

Were they truly trying to kill me? Either way, I didn't mind at that moment. Maybe they'll say they found me this way, that I slipped and banged my head.

I couldn't deny the peace I felt, I felt free.

The first person that appeared in the darkness was Ryan. He was wearing a sheepish smile on his lips and his hair had gotten long, long enough to hide the tips of his ears. He hated when it got so long. I, on the other hand, loved it dearly.

His comforting light dominated the shadows that engulfed me. I wanted nothing more than to feel his touch, his laugh, his scent-mint and honey.

I loved him dearly and even when it felt like my heart had stopped and turned to stone, it burned for him. Perhaps death really was the only way I could see him again, perhaps I could visit Ryan in his dreams this way. In those dreams he would keep me safe like he always tried to.

He would yell at me for smoking too much before grabbing me and kissing every inch of my face. He would then tell me how beautiful I was and I would snort out a laugh and we would be happy again.

Death was a gift I was willing to accept. I wasn't afraid of the world anymore.

I exhaled slowly, allowing one last bubble to rise to the surface as I reached out to touch Ryan. My sweet Ryan.

I was so close to him when my head resurfaced.

I gasped loudly as my entire body was hauled out of the water by my under arm. My vision remained blurry as I grabbed onto my chest and throat. I began coughing up vast amounts of water, allowing oxygen to fill every crevice of my lungs.

The only thing I could sense was heat, my body immediately drew to it, craved it. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around the body, burying my forehead into its stomach like a frightened child.

I was expecting the servant to push me away but she didn't. She remained still as my limbs squeezed around her, pressing my naked body into her as much as I could.

Why did you pull me out?! Was it a game, were they preparing to throw me back in?

I was ashamed, disgusted with the fact I was hugging her. I knew it was instinctive, that my body wanted to live despite what my mind said.

Damn them for being so warm.

It wasn't until I heard the clicking of mandibles that I lifted my head to the side, resting my ear on her hard stomach. Before me, across the bathroom, I witnessed the two servants standing side by side.

My heart felt like it stopped again.

They were bending at the waist, heads down to the ground.

Finding the strength to take a few steps back, I was met with the biggest Yautja I had ever encountered; a male.

I licked my numb lips as my body shook from the withdrawal of his touch. I held my hands to my chin in an attempt to cover my chest and crossed my legs, giving myself some decency.

I had latched onto him. I had touched him. I was standing there bare before him. The thought made me bite down on a nail.

They should have shoved my head in the water a minute earlier, even a few seconds longer would have saved me from him, from this unfortunate event.

Maybe they were trying to save me from him. Maybe that was them showing me empathy.

He was terrifying. Absolutely terrifying, compared to the females, he was a monster.

Lean muscle was on every inch of his seven foot figure. It helped explain how he lifted me up like a toy doll.

I felt my eyes widen as I tried to take him in.

The beast was covered in rough, dark and light green snake-like scales. The lighter shade of green I could only detect on his stomach and inner tree trunk thighs. His long dreadlocks had thick, golden rings clapped on each one.

Old claw marks scarred the middle of his chest, ranging in depth. There was one even on his rib cage that vanished behind his back.

My glare rested on both of his shoulders, there were small spikes that poked out, matching the ones of the sides of his giant, boney head.

A necklace made of bones caught my eye, as well as the small leather strap wrapped around his left bicep. In the center of the strap was a small skull.

The sight made my stomach turn. I tightened the hold I had on my hands.

Jesus Christ. He was exactly what they said the males would be and then some.

I began coughing some more as the frozen pain of needles came back.

I found myself unable to stand anywhere. A breeze from the window was enough for my legs to give out.

The male rigidly turned to his servants, they hadn't moved a muscle. It was when he turned to me that I followed their lead and looked downward.

A lesson Clark had taught us came rushing to me about the ways they showed respect, to them respect was everything. When you meet the males, you must put your head down. They were given the opportunity to select a human female because of their high status. Look at them as royalty.

His footsteps even shook the marble floor.

A shadow was cast over me as I felt one of his arms hook under my legs and the other around my lower back. With one brief tug, I was airborne.

So warm. Fuck he was so warm.

To hell with dignity and pride.

I wasted no time in leaning into him. I was thankful he didn't look down at me as he began heading toward the door. Did he know they tried to kill me? Was he going to punish them?

I didn't care how I looked as my right arm slithered around his neck, my breasts pressed into his chest.

He was even hotter than the servants were, he was blazing, a Yautja size furnace. I couldn't resist it even for a second.

It was like fire had entered my veins and was thawing every inch of me. My cheek rested on his silky dreadlocks as my shaking finally stopped. He made no effort to reject my touch.

My body relaxed and melted into him.

Only then did I notice the bone necklace was unpleasantly piercing into my flesh from how hard I was holding onto him.

This was who Clark had told me to fear, this was what a true Yautja was, what a true killer was.

I was being carried bridal style by a monster that hung his trophies on the walls as home decor. A monster who killed humans and skinned them like deer. And yet there I was, a human clinging onto the monster for life.

He walked down the empty hallway till he reached the end of it, my room. I had only been in there for a short time before the servants had me follow them to the bathroom.

The beast lowered me to the bed, he hovered over it until I had it in me to release him. His body heat was intoxicating if that was even possible. As soon as my back made contact with the blanket of furs I wrapped myself in them.

He stood still as he watched me, taking in as much detail about me as I had previously done to him. It felt awkward to say the least.

My heart fluttered in my chest as I watched him from his squatting position. The muscles in his legs tightened as he leaned inward. If I thought his wife could kick me to death, I didn't even want to picture what he was capable of. He could kick a lion's head off its shoulders.

Was he waiting for me to tell him what happened? Was he waiting to mount me?

No, his mate had to be in the room, that's how the ritual was supposed to go.

If I remember correctly, it was forbidden for me to even be alone with the male of the household.

Was he not the one for following rules?

Imaging such a thing made me crawl at the furs with my nails. He would crush me, he was at least 300 pounds of muscle. I didn't want to think about the object beneath his loincloth.

There was no way it could be possible, not without pain and blood.

Speak, say something. I couldn't.

My eyes remained on the bed as I watched his arm lift up toward me from the corner of my eye. Once it was close enough, I could make out his talons.

I leaned backwards before he made contact with my flesh. In response, the Yautja grabbed my chin, hard. He turned my head towards him, particularly curious about the left side.

The movement forced me to catch a glance of his eyes, dark yellow.

Softly, he traced my cheek with the tip of his finger. Clicking sounds rumbled from his throat.

The act made me narrow my eyes in confusion until it hit me; Clark's baton.

My head whipped forward, mistakenly catching him in a brief stare off.

Oh, no.

Panic filled me. So many fucking rules to remember.

"I'm sorry." I spoke in a whisper.

His punishment would be a million times more painful than Clark's. The things his hands could do, the strength he had to take down the animals that hung on the walls.

I was an ant, he'd squash me like one.

My thoughts blinded me to the fact he had gotten up. The closing of the door allowed me to release the breath I wasn't aware I was holding.

No he wouldn't mount me, not tonight. I was sure of it. I prayed that he didn't.

I was still, looking up at the ceiling. My heart thumping in my ears as the events of the bathroom played in my head. Ryan lingered in my head.

I would remain this way for hours until my subtle shivering rocked me to sleep.

That morning, the light beamed eagerly in through the window.

I was in the same position I had fallen asleep in, leaving me with a cramp in my neck that wouldn't go away no matter how forcefully I massaged it.

Last night still replayed in my head. The cold, the servants, my near death, Ryan, Yautja, hugging a Yautja naked, him bringing to my bed, him seeing Clark's mark.

In just one night they tried to kill me, the worst part was I wasn't entirely sure why.

But, humans were humans, that was reason enough.

I held my breath, my ears listening closely for any source of moment. I didn't have the courage to move an inch from the bed.

Clark would have to take me back to earth once I tell her what had happened, I got to kiss death and lived to tell the tale. There was no doubt, this had to be an exception. It was in the deal with the Yautja, no harm would come to the human women.

Not to mention killing a handmaid was one of the biggest taboos to the Yautjas. They needed to keep their species alive, whatever it took.

You should be honored to be in this position with such a respected, Blooded warrior.

I needed to find Clark. I needed to get the hell out of there.

The thought made my lips turn into a sharp line.

My hair was still damp as I made my way to the pile of clothes near the window. Slowly, I pulled the white dress over my head and then my underwear.

Figuring it would be more comfortable wearing the kapp with dry hair, I crept closer to the window, hoping to dry my hair in the sun before anyone came to get me.

The sight that awaited me outside made me scream, grabbing at my mouth in horror.

There were the servants from last night. Tied to the thick, red barked trees that were planted ten feet apart to create an entrance to the brilliant field of flowers.

Their chins dripping with saliva, their lifeless bodies leaning forward as gravity was fighting against the ropes that bound them.