Chapter 2 – Unbeatable

Aurora woke to the sound of Zachary’s endless droning. She attempted to tune him out. The last thing she wanted was to listen to him ramble about business—not now. Not while every inch of her body ached, and she was both mentally and physically exhausted. She felt this way after every exhibition. Luckily, they didn’t take place that often. While she’d grown somewhat accustomed to the knife, serving as Zach’s carving board whenever he came up with another “idea”, it was never as bad as during an exhibition. Never so intense.

Aurora turned to her other side and buried her head into the pillow. What time was it? More importantly, where was she? She felt the fabric of the mattress against her skin. Right, she remembered now. After her scarification, she’d returned to Zachary’s shop in the city, headed into the backroom where she usually slept, then passed out into a dreamless sleep.

As she lay there, she was overcome with the desire to stay in bed. Zachary was feeling especially creative these days, and the only thing she could see happening if she headed back to the front of the shop was more torment from his artistic experiments.

Today is going to suck. I have no energy at all. I need a shot.

Her eyelids were heavy, and she tried to open up her eyes, but the fatigue made her groan. The thought of a shot made her smile, but it wasn’t alluring enough to make her move. Not even an inch. Although, a shot would help on the pain.

Her mind debated with her body whether she wanted to move or not, and it seemed that her exhausted body was winning. As things were, she could barely muster the energy to reopen her eyes. Her body tensed up when she heard the door to the backroom squeak; someone had entered. Please, don’t let it be Zachary. She needed just a few more minutes’ rest.

The door closed, and Aurora listened to the faint patter of someone tiptoeing over to her. The corners of her mouth turned up in small smile—she recognized that sound.

“I know you’re awake,” Lina whispered.

“Of course I am.” Aurora finally managed to open her eyes. The only light in the room came from a hole in the black curtains, and she could barely see her friend. She yawned and fought the urge to close her eyes again.

Lina frowned. “How are you feeling?” The girl squatted down by the side of her bed.

Despite the pain in her back, Aurora managed a shrug. “No worse than any of the other times.”

“You don’t have to pretend with me, A,” Lina said.

Aurora’s eyes burned, so she closed them to avoid shedding tears. It would be too much shame if she broke down in front of Lina.

“It’s going to be all right,” Aurora whispered.

It’ll always be okay in the end.

“Do you need a shot? I can make you one, if you like.”

Aurora gave a dry laugh. “I’m the one supposed to offer you refreshment, not the other way around.” She propped herself up on her elbows and hissed lowly when her links cracked. “Ouch.”

Lina hurried to support her back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just … stiff.” Aurora didn’t meet her friend’s eyes. Instead, she fixed them on the wall as she slowly lifted herself up into a sitting position.

The tiny backroom hidden away in Zachary’s shop was all she had—her only sanctuary. Whatever little privacy she was allowed was spent in here. Zachary didn’t bother to enter. He’d always said the room’s aura harmed his creativity. Aurora didn’t have any problems with it, and she loved that he left her alone. Even if it was only for a small amount of time.

“You should try telling him how much it wears you down to go to those shows,” Lina said as she walked over to the small cabinets to mix up a shot.

Aurora snorted. “It wouldn’t help.”

“How do you know?”

What Aurora didn’t want to tell Lina was that she’d already tried talking to Zachary—it had turned out to be a disaster. Instead of actually helping her, or laying off a bit, he seemed to have hit a creativity groove where she was used up to ten times a day. That had been the only time his experiments were worse than the exhibitions.

“I just do,” she said, rubbing her eyes.

She could hear Lina getting the little vials out and a shiver ran down her spine from the anticipation. A shot was everything to an Immortalia. They weren’t like the shots of alcohol that humans took for recreation: they were liquid energy. The “shot” was a chemical compound created by Daniel Hawkins. Only an Immortalia could handle the contents, which were stored at far below freezing temperatures. The actual liquid contained no water; the shot was infused in liquid nitrogen, something with the potential to destroy any human tissue it came in contact with.

One would think a shot would cause a tremendous amount of pain—if not death—within seconds upon drinking, yet Aurora’s body would regenerate long before the numbing wore off. Occasionally, humans braved the sweet-smelling shot. Aurora had once seen a boy drink too much of it. He’d felt fine at first, but within a few minutes of the drink, he’d collapsed. She’d later discovered that he’d needed to have his stomach removed, as the drink had left a golf-ball-sized hole in his belly and completely destroyed his stomach lining.

She swung her legs over the edge and slowly came to a stand. Her knees wobbled. She reached out and grabbed the squeaky bedpost to support herself.

“You should take better care of yourself, A,” Lina said.

Aurora rolled her eyes. Ironic, she thought. An Immortalia worrying about her life. That’s Classic.

Even though an Immortalia was thought to live forever, they weren’t exactly immortal. Their body—despite the healing—was able to die. While Aurora had only lived twenty-five years in this vessel, her spirit had lasted generations. Even now, in the year of 2150, she could remember the early days of the 19th century. Back then, before humanity had discovered what her kind really was, life had been somewhat easier—except on the rare occasions they found out.

In those days, anything magical was feared, and fairytales had been shunned in religious circles. But thankfully, whenever an Immortalia was discovered, the news of their existence had always failed to spread, mostly due to the lack of internet, recording devices, and many times simple greed; no human wanted to share an Immortalia.

Aurora recalled an old tale about a firebird called a Phoenix. That’s all she was: someone who would die and then be reborn when the time called for it. Her spirit—or soul, as the humans called it—was never ending.

“It’s almost ready,” Lina said.

Aurora sighed. She would have to get dressed. The oversized t-shirt, while complementing her long legs, wasn’t appropriate to wear to work. On heavy feet, she dragged herself over to the small cabinet that housed her wardrobe. She frowned at the pitiful sight; Zachary had promised to replace it with something proper, but despite how much money she earned for him, it was hard to get him to spend it on something he didn’t find necessary. And everything that concerned her wasn’t considered “necessary” for him.

“I’m going to put it down over here, A.”

Aurora looked around to find Lina placing the shot beside her mattress. “Mmn,” Aurora hummed back—she had to use her brains now. The clothes were used mostly for seducing customers into giving Zachary some business. The less the better, as Zachary always said. She was only one step above being used as a sex object for his friends. But she was lucky that Zachary took his pride as an artist seriously and felt himself above that; he considered the act of sharing his canvas in such a way to be “filthy.” It was sad, in a way. If Aurora were ever put through the trauma of rape, she’d actually be free of him. But using her for such purposes went against their contract.

The contract. Aurora shivered. She hated the thought of it, and it was only on exhibition days when her concentration was needed elsewhere would she allow herself to be reminded of it.

Low-cut shorts seemed to please Zachary the most, so she figured she’d go throw on a pair. A regular white top over a bra would allow her shoulder to be bare, which was as he had instructed. Only on special occasions were it necessary to have her whole back bare. He tended to practice on her thighs and shoulders since that’s where most customer wanted a scarification.

In truth, she didn’t mind dressing so provocatively, but it was not because she enjoyed being admired—far from it. It was because whenever she saw the lust in Zachary’s eyes, she knew there was one thing in this world she could deprive him of—one thing he couldn’t take from her. It pleased her to have even that little bit of power; to know that, every time he saw her, he burned with a desire he would never fill.

Jumping into the clothes made her groan from her muscle aches, but she hurried as much as she could—she had a shot to get back to, and the thought of the delicious drink gave her a burst, albeit small, of energy.

“Do you know what Zach’s plans are for today?” she asked Lina, who was sitting on her mattress. She plopped down beside her friend and took the drink. Inhaling the sweet smell was almost enough to make her hyped.

“Not a clue. He was talking with some strange-looking guy when I arrived.”

Similar to Aurora, Lina was an employee of Zachary, but that was where the similarities ended. With a paycheck and even a union behind her, she had the better deal of the two of them. Aurora didn’t hate Lina for it, though. She’d been forced to accept whatever contract Zachary had offered her, and the only one at fault was herself. She’d feared for her life—she was weak. And so she’d taken the first deal she got.

Aurora fought against the urge to down the shot; she knew that if she took her time, her body would restore some of her natural strength simply in anticipation.

“I think you’ve waited long enough now, A. You really shouldn’t taunt your body like that. It’ll get harder to resist each time if you do it.” Lina leaned back on the mattress. “Just get it over with. The smell is getting really tempting over here, and I don’t want to end up with a hole in my throat.”

“It smells nice,” Aurora agreed as she eyed the drink.

“Just drink it.”

Aurora almost didn’t hear her friend’s words. Her focus was entirely on the drink. Her hands moved on their own accord until the glass hit her lips. As soon as the liquid touched her tongue, plumes of smoke escaped her lips. Her whole world exploded in colors. She could do anything and nothing could stop her. Whenever she drank her shot—one of the few things she enjoyed about modern times—the energy went straight to her head and filled her with purpose.

“You know what?” she announced. “I think it’s time I gave Zach a piece of my mind!”

Lina sighed. “Not this again, A. Seriously? We go through this every time.”

“No! This time’s different.” Aurora laughed, pumped up from the temporary high of her shot. “This time nothing is going to hold me back.”

But something did hold her back, though. As much as she wanted to march out to Zachary and demand that he treated her better, that he appreciated everything she did for him, she was unable to move from where she sat. Her entire being burned to walk out there, yet she couldn’t move.

“Don’t do it,” Lina whispered from behind her. Her senses came back, and she could feel her friend’s arms wrapped around her waist. A few seconds later, the temporary high from the energy dulled just enough so that her brain was able to rip the control back away from her instincts. She smiled, realizing that, once again, Lina had saved her from punishment by preventing her from confronting Zachary.

Aurora shook her head. “Yuck. That was a rough one.”

“I noticed. It’s worse the longer you wait,” Lina said. Aurora relaxed as her friend let go of her waist. “Want to watch some TV?”

The noticeable difference in Lina’s behavior never failed to amaze Aurora. One minute the girl could be concerned and the next indifferent. It was part of what made Zachary like her. Someone who could stand all the kinds of shit he threw at people, while still being concerned enough to do her job. Not many humans with those traits existed in this city—especially not in youngsters like Lina.

Aurora took the remote and turned on the screen. It flickered twice before coming into focus. It was old LCD technology—she wasn’t granted the privilege of owning high-tech devices. But she didn’t mind much. She was simply happy that Zachary even allowed her even have a television. Other Immortalias weren’t so lucky—something Zachary never failed to remind her.

“Hey, A. Listen to this,” Lina said. Aurora diverted her eyes to the screen where a flashing sign that read, The end of Immortalias as we know them. She turned up the volume.

“… From Haw Tech is now officially buying off Immortalias from their owners. This morning, the director of Haw Tech stood forth and told that they were indeed trying to research Immortalias to see if something in their genes could be used to benefit society,” the speaker said. “We had a meeting with Daniel Hawkins earlier, and asked him a few questions.”

The picture shifted and a man with a rich mane of golden hair smiled out to them. A pretty woman was sitting across from him, asking questions.

“Mr. Hawkins, how come you’re only now searching for Immortalias to perform experiments on? Why not ask for volunteers like you’ve done in the past?”

The man smiled at the woman. “I’m glad you asked. Our previous deals with owners, who volunteered their Immortalias, did a lot to help the company and mankind. However, many of these slaves are treated unfairly and we simply cannot afford the failure that comes with a mistreated Immortalia. Our income is subject only to the success of the project, and without the Immortalia involved, there wouldn’t be a project.

“This is why we think that offering a solution to buy the Immortalias—for a reasonable price, of course—would be beneficial to both us and the owners. We will take care of the contracts, and if possible make sure they stay in the family’s possession, so when a new Immortalia arises, they can still live happily.”

Aurora watched, both curious and fearful. The man appeared confident and sincere, but surely no one would agree to sell his or her family’s Immortalia. They were too valuable to humans. Also, the fact that so few existed only made them more valuable.

“That is so messed up,” Aurora muttered.

“What is?” Lina asked.

“That whole thing about buying Immortalias for a lifetime.” The thought made Aurora sick. It was a deep concern within her, to be with someone other than Zachary. If she looked past the pain and suffering, she realized she actually didn’t have it as bad as others did. Sure, Zachary was a selfish prick, but she’d rather deal with a selfish prick than an owner who grievously mistreated or raped their Immortalia. She’d seen her kin pushed around, forced to crawl beside their owners like a pet, and even seen them made to eat from garbage cans. It was sickening.

“What do you think their plans are?” Lina asked.

Aurora shrugged in reply. She had no idea. But for Haw Tech to offer purchasing Immortalias meant some serious money was involved. They had to have something very ambitious in mind if they weren’t planning to return the Immortalia before their next cycle.

“How much do you know about Immortalia abilities?” Lina asked.

Aurora glanced at her. “You’re awfully curious today. What’s with all the questions?”

The girl looked away and began biting her nails, a gross habit that humans had. “Spit it out,” Aurora urged.

“Well … it’s nothing serious.”

“Just say it.”

“I think Zachary might be thinking of participating.”

Aurora was speechless. When she’d first joined forces with him, she heard him say that never in his life would he consider lending her away. She was his property, if she wasn’t there when he had a burst of creativity, he would fail as an artist.

For him to consider it meant that more than mere money was at stake here.

“What makes you think that?” Aurora asked, trying to mask the fear in her voice by speaking softly.

“Remember how I told you there was a man talking to Zachary?”

“Yes, and?”

Lina pointed to the screen, where Daniel Hawkins was still answering questions about his business’s plans for acquiring Immortalias. “That’s the guy I saw.”

Before Aurora could answer, she heard a knock on the door.

“Aurora, can I request your presence please?” Zachary called. It was one of the things he did that got under Aurora’s skin. Even though she was his “property” and had no say in her own life, the man always pretended to ask for her permission. But that’s all it was—pretend. Aurora couldn’t refuse.

She tensed up. Already?

She got up from the bed, leaving Lina behind. Aurora didn’t look back at her friend; she was afraid that, if she did, she would break down in tears. She wasn’t just scared—she was terrified. Aurora opened the door, finding herself face to face with a smiling Zachary.

“I’m sorry to disturb you during your alone time,” he said with an obvious lie. Zachary had no issue with calling upon her. “I need to talk to you about something. Follow me, please.”

Zachary turned on his heels and walked down the small hall then over to his make-believe office. At the sight of the door, goose bumps appeared all over her skin. She hated being in there. Most of the time it meant that she was to be used as a guinea pig. But the way Zachary walked made her believe that, this time, something different awaited her. With the news broadcast fresh in her mind, coupled with what Lina had told her, she feared the worst.

“Is everything okay?” she dared to ask. Zachary didn’t answer; he simply opened the door and motioned for her to go inside. The politeness made her suspicious. While Zachary enjoyed—on occasion—playing the role of gentlemen, this went far beyond his normal act.

This is serious.

“Please take a seat.”

He pointed to a chair, and she occupied it. Zachary sat down on the chair opposite hers. He folded his hands, straightened his back, and then cleared his throat. “We need to discuss something important.” He paused a moment as if thinking on how to phrase his words. Aurora waited for him to continue.

“I’ve been contacted by Haw Tech. They’re interested in buying you from me.” He paused again. “And I’m not sure what the answer is yet.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, despite the fact that she’d somewhat expected it. Was he serious?

“What…?” She struggled to find the right words to voice the thoughts running through her mind.

“Daniel Hawkins has offered to buy your contract from me. You’d still have to get a new contract made in your next reincarnation.”

Aurora fought to keep up with his speech. Part of her liked the idea of never seeing Zachary again; it would be a dream come true. But there was a nagging feeling that whatever Haw Tech had in mind would be far worse than scarification. Here, she at least had her routine. Who knew what untold torture awaited her at Haw Tech?