A Yautja's Handmaid
Ch. 6
The Day before the Ceremony
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It wasn't until my back felt the rough stone surface did I realize I had been walking backwards, my steps driven by fear. Realizing my arms was trembling I squeezed my fists.
The sight of the dead servants ceased my senses even when I could no longer see them, the way they hung lifelessly from the massive trees. One had a stream of bright green blood trailing down from her chest towards the ground, watering the flowers.
"Holy fuck." My hand continued to tremble as I covered my mouth, I had an urge to scream but I didn't make a single sound. I was frozen. The warmth of the sun vanished as the shadows from the corner of the room hugged me. I wished they could swallow me into abyss.
Do you fear death?
Yes, I told the voice that taunted me in my head, I fear death.
The servants were cruel and vicious but I didn't wish death upon them as they did for me. I knew without a second thought that it was the male that did it but the reason why he did it dwelled in my thoughts.
Why? Why?
The servants were his workers, his kind, maybe even his friends. And me? I was nothing. Yet, they died because of me, a burden I was not prepared to carry. I learned the mighty Yautja had codes which they never broke. Killing servant without hesitant didn't seem like it would be within the code. Maybe their book of codes was a lie fed to us to make us more willing to leave our homes.
My heart was pounding in my ears so loudly I didn't hear the door to my room open.
"Good morning."
My head whipped to the sight of Clark standing in the doorway. Her hand rested flatly on the side of the dark door. She appeared as she always did, on alert. Like a gazelle knowing the dangers of the African savanna and the predators that hid in the grass. As if she was waiting for a bunch of Yautja to appear from the walls and force her into battle.
She flashed a smile when I didn't greet her back, "Such manners."
I didn't move. I simply blinked, wondering if I stood perfectly still in the shadows she'd leave.
Her arm dropped to her side, brushing the side of her over fitted cargo jeans, "Let's try again shall we?" The forced smile on her face made me uneasy as ever, "Good mor-"
"He killed them," I interrupted her with a soft tone, causing her to pause for a moment before approaching me with a smug look on her face. I continued, "they tried drowning me last night. He saw it all."
"What the hell are you talking about, girl?"
"He killed them, the house servants." I slowly pointed to the window in front of us, Clark's brown eyes curiously followed the movement of my hand.
"Dear God." She mumbled as she walked to the window to get a better look, her body now blocking the horrid scene it from my sight.
I took the opportunity to take a deep breath through my nose and fidget with the knapp in my hands. The room became silent as Clark remained at the window frame.
Perhaps she was finally speechless. Perhaps this was my one and only chance of getting out of there. To show Agent Clark that Earth made a mistake, that this entire mission for human women was a disaster from the start, we couldn't live in harmony with these beasts. It was all a joke, a mission worth abandoning.
She stayed there longer than I expected. She appeared memorized, trying to take as much detail in as she could. She tapped her finger against the wall.
When Clark finally did move, she turned so her chin rested on her shoulder, "Such power."
"Power?" my eyebrows narrowed, not sure if I had heard her correctly.
She licked her lips, tasting her words before she spoke them, "They are truly Gods."
Gods?
I squeezed my knapp in disgust, wondering if I tried hard enough I could rip through the fabric, "Did you not hear what I said? He murdered them."
Gods?
"By the looks of it he showed them mercy," Clark began closing in on the distance between us, "it seems he gave them a quick stab through the heart to avoid blood from spilling everywhere."
"He killed them." I convinced myself she was hard of hearing.
"Not without reason," I watched as Clark looked me up and down with a fuming glare, "Yautja are a species of great honor."
"He didn't need to kill them, I didn't want that." I told her with a firm voice as I attempted to slide past her, only for her to step in my way.
Clark released a chuckle, "You stupid girl, you really think he killed them for you? His mate wants nothing more than to have a pup of her own. He killed those servants because they almost took away his mate's dream. Do you know how long it would have set them back if the servants succeeded in killing you? How long it would take them to pick another human?"
Clark was crazier than I originally thought. The bullshit she fed us, she truly believed. She worshiped these monsters.
I wondered to myself if Clark knew I hated her as much as she hated me. If she was unknowingly delusional. If ignorance was truly bliss for her.
"I suppose that works in your favor." I tried to get away from her but again, no luck. She was as stealthy and fast as a snake. I felt as though I was going to punch her square in the face. The urge to get her away from me blinded me with appalling thoughts.
Just one swing, I told myself. If I aimed correctly I could break her nose. The thought made me smirk.
"Oh?" she took note of my facial expression, "how so?" She was so close to me I could smell the tart scented body wash that masked her body.
"If he killed for me, you could have been the first one on that tree."
Hanging by your feet.
Her lips went into a flat line. She became a bull and I was a shiny, red cape.
"Is that so?" Before Clark could truly act upon the rage that filled her, the head female appeared at the doorway.
Clark quickly stepped away from me, facing the female after taking a few deep breaths.
It was the first time I was about to get a good look at the female Yautja.
Unlike the male, her arms and thighs were slim. Her scales were all a light green color except on her stomach area which was a creamy white color. Her mandibles were smaller and curved neatly inward. Her face seemed aged in a way that made me compare her to a middle aged woman, to Clark even.
Two black pads covered her small breast area and tiny, gold chains wrapped her torso.
Her features were softer, more feminine. She wasn't a killer. No spikes poked out of her shoulders, no bone necklaces hung down her neck. The only thing more intimating about her in comparison to the male was the color of her eyes, dark red.
She looked between Clark and I before directing her voice at Clark, her native tongue echoed in the small room.
With a nod, Clark turned to me.
If the female hadn't come when she did, Clark would have lounged at me. I was slightly bitter the Yautja deprived us of the chance to go at each other.
Despite being so close to encountering a raging Clark I didn't regret what I said. It was solely the truth and nothing but the truth. She deserved to be hung up on that tree, as well as everyone else for their crimes against the handmaids.
Now that would be power.
"Get moving." Clark whispered as she led me past the female. I could feel her eyes burning the back of my head, causing the hairs to stand up.
"Where are we going?" I dared to ask as we reached the bottom of the stairs.
"To prepare you for the ceremony tonight."
The ceremony.
Where the head female will sit above me on the bed and hold my hands while I lay on my back, waiting for the male to come. When he comes and does his deed I am to remain quiet with my head turned to the side.
No talking, no looking. Just lay there.
I followed Clark down the stairs. As soon as I stepped foot outside, a gust of warm wind kissed my cheeks. I hadn't had any time to wonder about the alien world that was beyond the walls of my bedroom. The sights, their culture, them in general. It was obvious we weren't allowed outside, at least not on our own.
Clark motioned to the US army truck that awaited us with her head. The gravel the tires rested on was a soft orange that mimicked the sand of the Sahara. Taking a chance to rotate my head around, I took in as much as I could. Giant trees surrounded the landscape as far as I could see, hiding the sun in its branches. Yautja sized mansions made of expensive looking stones and dark shades of marble were all within walking distance from each other.
It was quiet. No Yautja walking the streets, only the howling of the wind could be heard.
I hadn't realized I had stopped walking until I heard Clark's voice coming from in front of me.
"I will say this once and once only," she spoke, "your lack of respect will only led to more punishments."
"Leaving your assigned agent's side in the Yautja world is strictly prohibited. We are guests here, guests must know their place or they will be punished." I spoke the words to her from memory. The words they taught us back in Chicago.
I hoped she sensed my mockery.
I knew the game and the rules, I just didn't care to play.
Clark flashed another one of her fake smiles, "You seem to not take me seriously, girl. Have you forgotten where the scratch on your cheek came from?"
My eyes grew watery from the breeze, "Is there no honor in damaging something that doesn't belong to you?"
Clark opened up the door for me, acting as if she didn't hear me.
"Move." Clark demanded.
After a few seconds I walked towards her and the truck. She looked around her as I tried sitting in the small seat. The sharp metal that made up the sides of the seat pushed into my spine and shoulder blades, making me rock side to side to relieve my discomfort. It was horrible.
I stopped moving once I came to a sweet spot. As soon as I did, a shadow suddenly reached for me. Flinching, I watched as Clark gripped the front of my dress. The strings of the dress tightened around the upper half of my body as she pulled me close, so close I thought our noses would kiss. The sudden movement caught me off guard. I felt as though my dress would be torn right off me.
After a second of realizing what was happening, I crawled at her hand and lifted my legs to kick her as I was losing air, fast. Anticipating my move, her knees pushing down on my thighs, stopping me in my tracks.
"You really believe that when you become an alien's whore you'll get to play God?" Her pupils dilated.
I pushed forward without any luck, I was trapped underneath her. My body went into a panic.
Clark lifted her head out of the truck to check her surroundings before speaking again, "Please humor me with some more threats, please. You have no idea how easy I can make an accident look, I can have the driver flip this truck over with you crushed under it. I can have them find you in a ditch with your neck snapped and say you fell in it accidentally. It may be inconvenient for them to kill you but for me, it would be a pleasure."
I opened my mouth for air but only a small amount reached my lungs. She was going to strangle me to death.
Clark smiled a sheepish grin, fully convincing me she was going to kill me right then and there. Instead, she released me, watching me gasp and grab at my neck as I leaned back into the chair. The skin around my throat burned slightly.
I didn't say a word.
Satisfied with herself, Clark jumped out of the back and slammed the door with a swing of her arm. I was left with only a single light bulb on the roof of my truck as my source of light, enough to see that there were other seats to the side and in front of me.
Everything began to replay in my head.
Only fifteen minutes passed when the truck came to a stop and I was ushered out and into a building guarded by military men with guns. I would of mistaken it for a military base back home. Luckily for Clark, the weapons on display convinced me to hold my tongue.
Inside, I was examined by a human doctor. He didn't say a word other than he needed to examine my cervix and gave me a shot, insisting it's to, "make sure your body is healthy. Being exposed to foreign air and germs can be deadly."
Normally I would of asked questions but I kept to myself as fear began creeping up on me. That and my throat still hurt.
Once I was done he instructed me to leave and so I did, finding myself back outside the building. Tears crept up in my eyes but I blamed it on the wind.
I didn't want to go back. I didn't want to lay on my back.
An alien's whore.
Alien's whore.
whore.
A small line of women waited their turn to see the doctor. Walking past them, I scanned their humans faces and they scanned mine. Searching for something but only finding sorrow and agony. One woman stuck out to me. Her knapp was loose, allowing me to get a glance at her bright orange waving in the wind. Freckles scattered her face and anger filled her eyes. It gave her a cat like glare.
I could feel it radiating off of her. An anger I wanted to join in on. I wanted to shout out to her that I too wanted death to everyone there. I wanted to go home, to be free. That we should stand together and fight and give them hell.
But I didn't. Not with all the guns there. For now, all I could do was lock eye contact until she was lost to the sea of handmaids.
I hissed as the servant pulled at my hair, it had been a total of twenty minutes since they had begun braiding my entire hair. Each braid was thin and tight, causing my scalp to throb. I had bitten down so much on my teeth from the pain that my jaw was aching.
The goal was to make me look more like a female Yautja by giving me dreadlock-like hair.
Clark was there to make sure everything went smoothly, to report back to her higher ups that another human female had successfully completed the ceremony. A win for Earth.
I watched from outside as the sun was beginning to set. I wanted to be out in the horizon, far away from this world I was forced in. I imagined myself running as fast as I could till my legs give out of me, then I'd crawl.
The female Yaujta was close by, she remained at a distance. Her ruby eyes capturing every moment around her and every breath that I took.
My eyes grew heavy as exhaustion crept up on me. The thought of shutting my eyes was tempting but I didn't dare. Sleeping while I was being pampered for one of the most important night's of the female Yautja's life would no doubt end in a few whips to my back.
I had a game to play either I liked it or not. I was thrown out into the battle field with nothing but my sharp tongue. I knew then that I needed to play but I'd win the game my way, no matter how I did it.
After I was fed I was bathed from head to toe then covered in oils that reminded me of the vanilla licorice scent of jasmine. I felt like a pig being fattened and groomed before the slaughter.
After cleaning up I was handed a black skirt that brushed my ankles and a black bandana like top to cover my breasts. It was tight, bulging my breasts out. Clark explained that the upper half of my body needed to be exposed.
It didn't make sense to me why until one of the servants took out a liquid that looked like black henna. The color of their clan.
The moment it touched my skin, the cold paste made goosebumps spread across my flesh. Without hesitation, she drew lines down my arms. Only when she got to my wrists did she begin to paint swirls, then again on my ribs, neck, and cheeks.
My skirt was lifted up slightly to begin the painting process on my calves and upper thighs.
I took note of how gentle the servant was being, making sure her black talons didn't accidentally graze me. I have a feeling she saw the servants out on display.
The last braid landed on my temple, allowing the servant to stand up from her crunching position. She took a quick look at her work before stepping away from me, her mandibles clicking softly. Her head remained down, bowing to the head female covered in gold.
"It's time for you to do your duty, remember your training." Clark waited for the servants to leave the bedroom before following them, "Don't make a fool of us, girl."