Author: tarabroooke

The water had unexpectedly shifted. Usually it swirled friendly around her, letting her use it to her own advantage, but it had gone completely still. It was almost like she was levitating in the air, but she could still feel the cold water seeping through the gills on her neck.  She stopped swimming immediately, she felt her mind drifting in and out. Her stomach was cramping with hunger; she hadn’t eaten in weeks or maybe even months. Days had passed and her mind hadn’t let her control her own body. The octopuses had hid since the last time she ripped one open. She cringed as a quick vision of  squishing a school of fish flashed in her mind. She hated killing things that she couldn’t eat, she wasn’t always just a murderous creature and her guilt always seemed to remind her. There was no longer any need for her to kick her tail to keep her in one place, but she did it anyway. It propelled her to the surface. 

Her head broke though the water and she took a deep breath of actual air in. The familiar feeling of air filling her lungs completely broke her out of her hunger trance. Simple human things still had that effect over her, but they also snapped her with old human memories. Memories she wished she could forget. The gills on her neck poured out the water she was previously using for oxygen, making a gentle trickle sound as it joined back with the ocean. She happened to be near the shore, but still far enough away she could be mistaken for a rock. Her eyes switched from their usual black to her old hazel eyes. She tried to remember the last thing she consciously chose to do, but her memory betrayed her. The only thing worse than the madness from starvation was the fleeting human moments that she knew she wouldn’t remember. But this one was already different.

Her ears pricked up as she heard the low lull of a woman’s voice. The water was crawling its way up onto the shore, much further than it usually would. Yes, it was a full moon, but this was still abnormal. It was furiously trying to reach something – or somebody. The ocean crawled up onto the sand, trying to reach what seemed to be the last house on the cliff’s edge. Her eyes squinted as she tried to adjust to the darkness of land, thankful the moon was so bright tonight. It must be around three in the morning. She was surprised she had even remembered such a thing as human time; she had long given up on trying to keep track of her old world. It only made her angry, as she rotted underneath feeding on what seemed to be every other animal’s leftovers, people were still up there laughing. She had been right; no men had come off the shore to fish since her last meal. Men’s hearts just come too infrequently now. 

Her eyes drifted to the neighbouring houses and the amount of carriages drawn by horses that were sitting stagnant. The low murmur of a woman’s voice was still ringing in the air, but she wondered why she could only hear one voice. There seemed to be a ball happening, by the look of the light flowing out from the windows that flickered from what she assumed were people walking past. As she studied what was happening, the doors burst open and a group of people flooded out. She ducked half of her head back under the water, leaving just her eyes above the water, her gills flexing once again. The women were gripping onto their men’s arms, all almost tripping while each still holding a glass presumably filled with wine. She watched as their mouths opened and closed; they were definitely talking to each other. But she couldn’t hear them, even though they were closer to her. She looked back over to the neighbouring house that the ocean was still trying to reach. It was all dark except for an upstairs room, which had the windows pushed open. Somehow she knew that was where the voice was coming from. 

She watched for a long time, surprised that her hunger trance hadn’t taken over yet. Eventually everyone left the ball next door. Clothed in their very best dresses and suits they all hopped up into their carriages all smiley from their night out, being whisked away back to wherever they came from. She started to hum along with the voice, having listened to it for long enough now to know its tune. The ocean settled down, resigning itself to defeat as the moon fell away below the horizon. It once again swirled around her comfortably. To her luck, a man stumbled out of the house, visibly inebriated, presumably looking for his carriage. But there were no carriages left; he should have gone home with someone else. He looked out towards her direction and she raised her head once again out of the water. She sang louder, trying to reach into his mind with her song. 

It’s a perfect time for a swim, she repeated in her head, focusing all her energy on sending it out towards the man.

It caught him and he started stumbling down to the beach, right towards her. His eyes had rolled back into his head. She had him. She ceased her singing then and realised that the other woman’s voice had also stopped. She swam quickly closer towards the shore. She dragged herself out of the water, up onto the sand, with her arms out in front of her; ready to latch onto him. The sun had just started to rise, she needed to act quickly so no one else would see her. She urged the man to go faster and he tripped and started to roll down towards her, his suit jacket coming loose and tangled up in the sand as he fell. She caught him in her arms making sure to keep him in her trance, she couldn’t mess it up again. Her own eyes flicked back to black and her teeth sharpened involuntarily. She shook her head in an effort to stay in control. She needed to bring him back into the ocean to feast. It was too risky above water; she was too exposed. She made him stay limp, but she could feel his heart beating through her hand that she had automatically placed on his chest.

Instinctively, she glanced back up to the houses. There, where she thought the humming was coming from, stood a woman at the open window. The woman was leaning out of the window, her blonde hair waving behind her in the wind, looking right down at her. Her body took over in fear. Her nails dug into the man’s arm and she dragged him behind her into the ocean. The second her tail was fully submerged she kicked as hard as she could and followed the seabed down to where it started to get dark. There, her hunger took over and she ripped him open. Without even taking a moment she forced her teeth into his heart, not bothering to detach it from his body, her head inside his chest. Her long pointy nails were used as skewers as she stabbed through his eyes, popping through them like balloons that she ate off her fingers.

***

His unrecognisable, mutilated body trailed behind her as she made her way back to her cave. With her hunger satisfied, she finally had full control over her actions but all she could think about was the woman at the window. The image of her hair flowing behind her, seemingly carefree, was burned into her mind.  Was she the one that had been singing? Was that who the ocean was trying to reach? Had she actually seen her? Was it just the hunger hallucinations? Now, as she swam through the familiar stone entrance to her cave, she let the body go and it floated gently down to the seabed, joining the rest of the scattered bones. Why had she only heard the woman humming? It was as if she had been put into her own siren song hypnotic state.

It was feeding time, finally. Her skin was already itching to change, she’d been preparing for this one. She pulled herself back behind one of the rocks hidden on the ocean floor. She had to wait for the exact right time. She swallowed the drool that was forming in her mouth. She hadn’t had a proper meal in months. She stayed completely hidden underneath the rock while a rowboat on the surface creeped slowly towards her, at the back of her cave. She gave her skin permission to change, and it immediately shifted from her usual pale colour to a golden tan, now looking as if she was radiating the sun itself. Her sharp teeth shrunk and evened out as her face morphed into someone else entirely. Her tail split in two as her legs began to take form, her dark purple scales disappearing completely.

On the surface, the rowboat was inching closer and closer toward the back of the cave, the stone walls reflecting the shadow of the couple onboard. It was a small, secluded cave, the entrance only just big enough for the rowboat to fit through. Once inside the walls stretched high, like a stone bubble. It was almost completely dark, except for the lantern that shone out from the rowboat. The candle flickered, giving just enough light for Amaya to pull off her feast. Her usual long black hair had been turned to brunette, and it braided itself to keep out of her face. She started listening in to the couple that was now almost directly above her, while she was still completely hidden under the rock.

‘Yes, this is the right cave, I’m certain,’ the woman said.

Amaya’s ears twitched at the sound of her voice; it had been quite some time since she had heard the high-pitched sound of a woman.

‘Mabel, there’s nothing here and I have no idea how deep the water is,’ the man replied, clearly frustrated.

‘Well, Carl, keep rowing to this ledge there and I’ll have a look for you.’

Amaya poked her head out from the rock to see the shadow of Mabel standing up and undressing. She was trying to remember how many years it had been since a female entered her space. Feedings were so much easier when it was just men, they were the only ones her illusions worked on. She would have to wait until Mabel was out of the way, her curse limited her to only being able to hurt the males. Mabel didn’t wait for Carl to get to the ledge. Amaya had to quickly tuck herself back under the rock as Mabel jumped into the water, now just wearing her underwear. Mabel swam all the way down to the ocean floor; she was an excellent swimmer. She stopped just left of Amaya and had a quick look around, but it was too dark underwater, she couldn’t see anything. Just as fast as she had swum down, she was back at the surface hauling herself up onto a small ledge at the back of the cave. Carl was still on the rowboat, now not moving. Amaya sensed the quiet nervously and realised that her skin had morphed into a replica of Mabel. She demanded it to change back to her vision of a tall, brunette woman with bright green eyes. She poked her head out, swallowing the drool forming in her mouth again, while her stomach made an impatient growl. She could see Mabel looking over the ledge as if she knew she was there. She was wringing out her long blonde hair, the water dripping back into the ocean. It was now or never, Amaya decided. She kicked her legs, still giving the speed of her tail she directed herself towards the entrance of the cave, there was a tiny ledge she had carved herself for these specific moments. 

She jumped high out of the water, landing perfectly on the ledge right above the entrance, directly opposite from Mabel. Carl was still sitting in the rowboat right in between them. Amaya crossed her legs and let them dangle off the edge, she kept her body naked, giving Carl the eyeful he wouldn’t be able to resist. She watched Mabel’s face widen in horror, but she didn’t make a single sound, she just reached out her arm to point directly at Amaya. 

‘What?’ Carl yelled at her, before turning his head to see where she was pointing. 

Amaya watched as Carl’s face went into a dazed state as Amaya took over his body, urging it to come towards her. His blue eyes had turned black. Without a word, he had turned the rowboat around and was rowing straight towards Amaya. This was usually where the females would make her job harder. Mabel couldn’t see the naked brunette girl that Carl could, she could see Amaya for what she really was. Mabel kept quiet, putting her hands over her mouth as if she was deliberately trying not to say anything. She watched as her husband rowed closer to death. 

‘You know you want me,’ she hissed at Carl, giving up on swallowing her drool. She let it drip down her chest. 

Why wasn’t Mabel warning Carl? To her she was in her siren form, eyes black, teeth sharp, and her tail battered with scars from previous attacks. She urged Carl to go quicker. The veins in his arms coming to the surface of his skin as he pumped the oars back and forth. But she was impatient, and hungry. Amaya stood up on the ledge, wiping the now consistent drool from her chin. She leaped off the ledge, letting her tail form and her teeth sharpen. She loved to watch them realise they were about to die. Her fingernails dug into the sides of Carl’s throat, the rowboat now swaying furiously, and she watched his eyes turn back to his own as she released him from her control. She bit into his throat, pulling out his vocal cords before he had a chance to speak. He was delicious, confirming that he was almost as heinous as she was. The worse crimes they had committed, the tastier and more satisfying they were. His warm blood was gushing out of the hole where his throat used to be and she took a swig, igniting her need for more. She dropped him on the floor of the rowboat, readying her arms to tear into his chest. Amaya plunged her arms right into his ribs, grabbing hold of them and ripping them open towards her, the sound of his cracking bones echoing through the cave. She gave a quick glance towards Mabel, who was still silently standing at the edge of her ledge, tears running down her face. They made eye contact, and Mabel seemed to give her some kind of nod, as if to say it was okay. She looked down at Carl’s face, it was splattered with his own blood, his face muscles twitching his mouth into a smirk. She couldn’t stop herself now, she had already tasted him. Amaya licked her lips as she reached into his chest with her right hand, immediately gripping onto his heart. She gave it a little squeeze, watching the blood ooze over her fingers, before yanking it completely out of his chest. Immediately, she devoured it, bite after bite, she feasted on it until she was licking her fingers, and nothing was left. But Amaya could never have expected what came next.

‘Thank you,’ Mabel says breathlessly.

Amaya just stared at her. Who would thank her after killing and eating her husband? She looked back down at Carl, his body ripped open, and his head only just still attached. That’s when she noticed the shine reflecting off his hand. She snapped a finger off of his left hand, peeling the ring that he wore right off. She threw it at Mabel before quickly diving back into the water, flicking her tail on the surface with such force that the rowboat split in two and Carl’s body fell into the water. This made Mabel give out a little yelp, as she watched Carl’s lifeless body sink slowly towards the bottom. Amaya didn’t bother to hide behind a rock, Mabel already knew exactly what she looked like and what she was. She perched herself on a different rock, directly underneath the damaged rowboat, waiting for Carl’s body to reach her. 

Mabel scrambled to pick up the wedding ring, relieved she was free of that monster of a husband. She had finally been right about the cave; she had been searching for the siren ever since she was made to marry Carl three years ago. She wiped the tears from her eyes, it was a lot more gruesome than she had originally thought. She hoped the siren enjoyed him, she hoped that he was enjoyable to eat, he deserved every single bite she took. Mabel threw the ring back in the direction of the siren, she didn’t want the reminder of him, the siren could have it as a keepsake for all she cared. She slumped down onto the ground, now just realising she actually couldn’t go anywhere. She dangled her legs off the ledge and into the freezing cold water, not even caring if the siren wanted to take her or not. She looked at her reflection in the water, she looked like a crying mess. That’s when her reflection started to change. She watched as her icy blue eyes started to turn black, her blonde hair slowly changing to black. But it wasn’t her reflection. The siren was there, staring right back up at her. She let out a gasp and took her feet out of the water, hugging them and resting her head in her knees, she didn’t dare take another breath. The siren leaped out of the water, perching herself right next to Mabel, drenching her with the splash. Mabel nervously turned her head to look at her, she knew what was about to happen. But the siren didn’t touch her, she just curiously looked back into her eyes. 

‘Aren’t you going to eat me too?’ she tried to say, but it came out as a whisper.

‘Why,’ the siren croaked, then cleared her throat, ‘Why would you say thank you?’

They were both staring into each other’s eyes. 

‘I’ve been looking for you for three years, to do exactly that.’ Mabel sighed and pointed towards the pile of wood that the ocean was slowly drifting towards her.

She looked away from the siren and started to shiver, she was still just in her underwear. She was finished, Carl got the death he deserved, and she didn’t care what happened to her now.

‘I’m Amaya,’ was all the siren said in response. 

Mabel reached out and took her hand, it was cold and clammy, but she didn’t mind. Amaya stared back at her, almost in awe. Mabel felt the familiar coldness of metal, and she turned Amaya’s hand over to see her fingers. She was wearing Carl’s wedding ring.

(written in 2024)

Holding my math’s textbook tightly across my chest I brace myself for another quiet day, another day where I can count how many words that I say out loud on my ten fingers alone. I wave back to mum’s car as I walk towards the ‘senior school campus’ that my locker resides at. My bag is heavy on my back, and I’m already slouching as I force myself to keep walking, when all I want to do is get back in the car and curl up in a ball on my bed for the day. It’s year eleven on a Wednesday, VET Day. The one day every single week that my only two friends don’t come to school. They go to their respective courses while I’m stuck forced to come to school alone. My heart pounds, I keep my head down as I head to the first class, hoping that I am invisible to everyone around me. 

And I am. 

Everyone else is in their friend groups, chatting loudly, laughing, the sounds you resonate with the idea of fun. I watch my feet take every step closer and closer towards the first classroom, up the stairs, but staying to the left, so I am not in the way of anyone. The brick walls feel like a prison, as I move down the hallway to each cell, or classroom as everyone else referred to them by, I convince myself that they aren’t actually closing in on me. I drag myself through the first doorway, and force myself to look up, but not too much, I cannot look anyone in the eyes. It would break the whole illusion that I’m invisible and I might even be forced to speak. The rooms are just as bleak as the hallways, four brick walls, a small window near the roof, no pictures on the walls. I pull out a chair and sit near the back of the room, making sure I am just close enough to someone else so that the teacher won’t recognise the loner. Every room smelt of sweaty bodies, the mixture of perfume and cologne, the kind of smell that sticks to your skin, making you scrub your body free of their stench every night. I swallow the lump in my throat and prepare to say the first word of the day, making sure it’s not too loud, not too annoying, but also not too quiet enough to not hear at all. Then my name is called.

‘Here.’

No one looks at me, but the teacher scribbles something on their page. Perfect. Now I just have to do my own silent math’s work and stay quiet enough that the teacher forgets to ask me any questions. It works every time. I look at my watch, I’ve been at school for twenty whole minutes. Only five hours and forty minutes to go.

(written in 2023)

She turns the key in the lock, and opens the door, gesturing for me to go inside. So, I walk in first, taking in the beautifully decorated apartment.

How trusting she is, this one is going to be easy.

The apartment was small, but it’s definitely personalised to Olive’s quirky taste, which I had come to discover over the last couple of days of knowing her. It has been decorated with bright blue, yellow and purple furniture, and she had stuck fake butterflies and greenery on the walls. This gave the illusion that you were outside in a beautiful, calm garden. The kitchen and dining room were all one room, with an island kitchen bench separating them. I also noticed a small hallway off to the left, presumably leading to where her bedroom and the bathroom was. 

‘Wow, you really have a thing for bright colours, don’t you?’ I ask, as I walk over to her purple couch by the window that overlooks the street down below.

She lives alone, that’s convenient. And on the third floor, also helpful.

‘Yeah, doesn’t it just feel comfy in here though?’ she replies, as she tucks her keys into her pocket and walks over to join me.

‘You’re really good at decorating, I’ll say that. Any suggestions on what we should do now?’ 

I run my hands through my hair, only for it to fall straight back into my eyes, I give myself a mental reminder to get a haircut, maybe get it dyed, after this is all done. She sits next to me on the couch, and from the corner of my eye, I see her trying to catch a glimpse of my arms.

Oh, Olive Kelway. You’re perfect. 

She turns to look directly into my eyes. They were the lightest blue eyes I have ever seen; they look like ice. She tucks the left side of her hair behind her ear, letting the sunshine on her face and her blonde almost silver hair look as if it’s actually shining.  

I’m starting to get impatient about my plan now, it’s just been so long since I’ve had a chance to do this.

‘I want a drink, how about you?’ she declares and immediately gets up off the couch and walks into the kitchen.

She opens the fridge next to the front door to reveal her very own beer stash. She had a section of her fridge just for beer. She points at them and looks back at me with a little smirk, it’s as if she’s saying to pretty, please have one.

Now she’s just trying to make this easier. 

‘Oh, absolutely.’ 

As she turns around to grab the beers my right hand starts instinctively to reach for the knife I have stashed on my right rib, that’s being concealed by my jacket. Just to triple check it’s there and I’m actually going to do this.

But I can have a little fun first.

I hear the cracks of the beers being popped open, a therapeutic sound to me. Then she’s back on the couch next to me and handing me an ice-cold beer.

‘Cheers!’ She exclaims and we tap our beers together before both taking a sip.

I wrap my right arm around her shoulders, and she slides closer into me.

‘Thank-you, for this, it’s perfect.’ I thank her for the beer by taking a swig.

‘Well, I’ve kind of wanted to talk to you alone for a while.’ she says and gives me a quick shy glance before she takes another sip.

‘Is that so? You got some questions for me then, Olive?’ I press teasingly, but I’m genuinely flattered that she’s been thinking about me. 

‘I actually do. Theo, is that short for Theodore?’ She shifts a little, moving a bit so she can look at me. 

‘Yeah, it is.’ I take another swig, it’s too damn nice.

‘Not Sebastian Tead?’ she says quickly, and it catches me a little off guard.

I tense up at the sound of the name. My real name, but there’s no way she knows it. I give her a little squeeze, a reminder of how much bigger I am. I can suddenly feel my heart beat a little faster, I might have to execute my plan a little sooner than I wanted.

‘And where did you hear that?’ I smile at her, she slides even closer into me, as if to return my squeeze.

‘I saw your drivers license when we met at the bar, remember?’ she says simply, ‘you know, you are really hard to find on the internet. How do you not have one single social media account?’

She leans forward out from under my arm to put her drink on the coffee table in front of us.

‘Well, I don’t go by that name anymore, so maybe you were just searching for the wrong name.’ I tell her, debating whether I should just tell her the truth.

She’s not going to be leaving this room again anyway.

She stands up and walks over to the bookshelf positioned next to the entrance of her hallway. She starts scanning her CD collection with her pointer finger, and I watch her while I take another big swig, finishing the drink. She turns her head back to look at me, her shirt sliding slightly off her shoulder.

‘And why don’t you go by your legal name? Has it got to do with the death of your wife? What was her name, uh, Rachel? Rachel Wipps?’ she says plainly, looking directly into my eyes.

What is this?

I clench my fist, there’s no way she actually knows anything about it. I feel a pang of rage as I stop my instinct to reach for the knife.

Time to play the game.

‘What did you say?’ I put on a sterner voice; I haven’t heard that name be mentioned in years.

I lean forward and place my empty beer next to hers which is practically still full. My hands start to feel heavier, and I give them a little shake, it’s probably just my nerves trying to come out.

‘Oh, that’s right. I know about her, I’ll admit though, it took me a while to figure it out. You did actually hide it pretty well; I’ve been looking into it for weeks before I ‘accidentally’ bumped into you at that bar a couple of days ago. But I’m flattered that you thought I might be your next victim.’ She relays while she paces towards her front door and back.  

I stand up too quickly, my legs are suddenly wobbly, and I fall back onto the couch.

It’s time for her to die.

I quickly reach for my knife, but my arms aren’t responding like I want them too. They just flinch back at me as my mind is screaming at them to move. She’s now standing right over me, as I’m slouched on the couch.

‘Yeah, I’ll take that knife now. We can have another chat once you wake up.’ She smiles down at me as she reaches into the side of my jacket and takes the knife out of its hiding place.

How is this happening?

My vision blurs and all I can see is the outline of Olive as she’s admiring my knife before she gives me a shove so I’m on my side. There’s nothing more I can do; my body has given up on me.

~

‘He really thought he was going to kill me?’ I laugh to myself as I point Sebastian’s knife at his face.

Seb, as I have been calling him, is now unconscious and tied up to a chair sitting at my dining table. I feel so accomplished, my plan was executed perfectly, he totally thought I was falling for him. There is at least another three hours before he wakes up, and there’s still a few things I need to sort out. I tuck his knife away into my calico tote bag. I think I’m going to keep it as a souvenir, it’s kind of comforting. It feels as if all the people he has killed are here cheering me on while I prepare to give them revenge. First things first, I have a psychiatrist’s appointment on zoom in about an hour.

‘How have you been doing?’ I hear Dr Imogen ask.

I give a big smile to my laptop screen, the glare on my screen is so bad I can only see myself staring back at me. I had set up my laptop in my bedroom, on my vanity. If only she knew that I had a man tied up and sitting at my dining table.

‘Not bad, yeah, not bad, wait one second,’ I say as I quickly stand up to pull the blind down in front of me.

Now I could see Dr Imogen in detail, her short white permed hair, and her bold red glasses. She’s definitely put on a significant amount of weight during the time I have been seeing her. Sometimes I wonder if I’m the reason she’s put on weight, if helping me get better means I’ve just passed the burden onto her.

‘I’m actually really well. I think the medication is actually helping.’ I tell her.

‘That’s good to hear!’ she puts her hand to her heart as if she was expecting something to be very wrong, ‘so what did you want to talk to me about today?’

‘I’ve accidentally misplaced one of my prescriptions, and I just need a refill, please.’

I tuck my hair behind my ears and watch her as she glances down at the pile of paper sitting in front of her. I’ve never misplaced my medication before, she has to trust me with this.

‘And which prescription was it?’

‘The sleeping ones.’

‘Temazepam?’

‘Yes, that one, I just can’t find it anywhere and you know how I am with sleeping.’ I give her a little laugh, making sure to sell this lie.

‘Okay sweetie, I’ll do it for you this time, but I can’t do it again. These are supposed to be temporary anyway. All right? I’ll email you the prescription. And how’s your visions? Had any more?’ She adjusts her glasses so she’s looking over the top of them, trying everything to see me better.

‘No, no. I haven’t had one in a while actually.’ The last time I fell for this question she sent me to a mentally ill facility for a while.

I wasn’t completely lying; I actually haven’t had any more visions. I think I have just finally found the right way to get rid of them.

‘Good, good. I’m so very pleased you’re doing so well, Olive. Well, I hope you have a lovely evening, and we’ll talk more next time.’

‘Hey!’ I yell as I kick Seb in the leg.

I had gotten changed into some old, thrifted overalls and pulled my hair up into a high bun. I’m trying to get Seb to wake up, I need to dispose of him tonight if I want to get away with this. I kick him again, but a little harder and I hear him grunt. I watch as he slowly opens his eyes and remembers what happened. He tries to pull on the rope around his arms, trying to get them free.

‘Who are you?’ he spits out at me, and the chair he is attached to almost tips as he continues to try to break himself free.

‘Stop moving, really, you’re not getting out of it.’ I take his knife out of my bag and place it on the table.

(written in 2020)

It was almost her turn. She fiddled with her fingers as she anxiously waited for her name to be called. Today is the first day of the year that she turns 17, meaning she is individually Ranked now for the rest of her life. She was sitting on the only chair in the middle of a small square room. The rooms walls and ceiling were grey, and she sat facing a door. A Ranker stood in front of the door with their arms crossed staring straight at her. The Ranker was tall and wore a padded skin-tight long sleeve and skin-tight pants. They also wore gloves, boots and a mask. This particular Ranker was in all white. The mask was shaped to fit each Ranker’s head perfectly so that you could not see any of their facial features or the colour of their hair. You couldn’t even see their eyes or even their ears. This made every Ranker anonymous. The Ranker unfolded their arms.

‘Clara Field, it is ready for you now,’ the Ranker spoke with a robotic voice, their masks conceal what they sound like.

The Ranker stood back from the door and opened it while gesturing Clara toward the door. Clara stood up and walked through the door as the Ranker closed it behind her. The room she walked into was just as big as the last room if not a little bit smaller. As she turned to look back at the door she had just walked through, it disappeared. She was all alone in the blank little room. She thought back to the last time she was Ranked with her family and looked towards the ground for instructions. The ground lit up with foot marks that she walked over and stood on. As she stood in the instructed place, she smoothed out her long straight black hair and tried to brush out the creases made in her white dress from sitting down. The floor beneath her started to rise so that she was on a pedestal. Then the wall that she was facing became a mirror, and she stood on the pedestal staring at herself. She started to smile. Her long straight black hair was pulled back from her face with a white headband and her brown eyes stared back at her. Her dress was tight but when it hit her waist it flowed out and stopped at her ankles. This showed her white block heels that weren’t very high but made her exactly five foot three. She stood with her arms by her side looking at herself for what felt like quite some time. Soon the other walls turned into mirrors too, but she did not dare move her head to check if that was what was actually happening. She had to keep renewing her smile. Soon the walls turned off and went back to being regular walls one by one. Clara kept smiling and staring straight. Then the wall in front of her became a white screen. It then showed the number 70. 

‘You have been Ranked at exactly 70,’ the wall said to her in yet another robotic voice.

‘Thank-you,’ Clara said and did a curtsy.

‘Here are things you need to improve on for your next Ranking if you wish to get higher,’ the wall spoke again.

The wall flashed up a close picture of her eyes and text next to it that told her that green eyes are more desirable. This is when Clara stopped smiling. The wall flashes up a side profile picture of her nose with text saying that it should be smaller. An image of her arms came up telling her that they needed to be hairless. Next an image came up of her face saying that she needs to learn how to put on her makeup more flawlessly as there was a smudge of mascara on her left bottom lash that was hardly noticeable. More and more images of herself flooded the wall with text saying how she could improve herself. Soon they stopped and the pedestal she was standing on lowered, so she was once again standing on the ground. The door she had come in through had reappeared and the same Ranker was standing there ready to escort her back to her house.

As Clara was being escorted back to her house the Ranker gave her a bracelet. The bracelet had buttons which projected screens that showed her official Ranking that she can show various shops and places so that she could gain access to them now. It also showed the points that she could improve on, as told by her at the Ranking. As she walked beside the Ranker, she looked around her at the corridor that she was being led down. The corridor had people just like her being led by Rankers to the Ranking rooms, as it was Ranking Day. Most of the teenage girls and boys looked just like her, some had been dying their hair since they were a child, some wearing eye colour changing contacts and some with taller heels than others. They all looked basically the same, which was what gave them more opportunities in life. As they approached a corner, a girl and her Ranker came towards them. The girl wore a light blue dress that did not show off her curves at all. Her hair was blonde and curly, but she had tried to pin it away from her face with blue clips. She also was not wearing any shoes and was quite short. Clara recognised her as Becky from her mathematics class at school. 

‘Becky gets a 20!’ a boy from behind Clara shouted out towards Becky.

Becky started running then, presumably towards the boy that shouted.

‘At least I don’t look the same as you!’ she yelled as she kept running.

Her Ranker soon caught her and grabbed on to her arm firmly to stop her from running. The Ranker then slapped her across the face. Clara kept walking beside her Ranker and as she walked past Becky and her Ranker, Becky started to cry. It was Clara and Becky that had cut their fringes together just two days ago, as they wanted to do something new. However, Clara’s mother was so disappointed in her, that she made her wear a headband so no one would know. Clara and Becky can no longer be friends. She didn’t understand why they had to be all the same, it was boring. According to the history books at school everyone used to be able to be different a long time ago. What changed?

(written in 2021)

I hold out my knife directly in front of me as I slowly walk towards the loud panting coming from around the corner. I walk through the West Underground corridors every second day. I check for Strays; however, I don’t know what they look like. It is what I am trained for.

Is it actually one this time?

Or am I dreaming again?

I bite down on my bottom lip until I can feel the pain surge through me.

Definitely not a dream.

Steadying my shaking arm out in front of me, I pounce around the corner. I’ve had these tunnels memorised since I was four. I knew it was a dead-end; and whoever was there was not getting away. I find myself pointing my knife down at a huddled-up figure in the corner. They slowly look up at me and I take notice of the hair growing on their face. I had never seen this before. I should just slit their throat right now. All evidence points towards being a male. But a part of me is curious. I looked into the Stray’s eyes. I grab them by the scruff and press my knife into the front of their neck.

I am finally going to kill one.

I am going to kill.

I can’t.

‘What are you?’ I demand, mustering up as much confidence in my voice as I possibly can. I hope that it is just a runaway female.

The creature looks into my eyes. I see it now; the facial hair, the broad shoulders and chiseled jawline, all characteristics that I have been shown identify a male. He smirks at me, like he can tell that he should already be bleeding out on the floor.

‘I’m Chase. But what are you?’ he smirks at me. His eyes sparkle.

‘I’m a woman. And it is said by law that I must kill you now, male.’ I say trying to sound harsh, only for my voice to come out like a shaky whisper.

His disposition intrigues me. How can he be so confident at a time like this? I rule over him, I have the power. I literally have a knife. Suddenly I feel very aware how close I am holding him to my face, and I drop him out of my grasp. I try to hold the knife out at him, but my hand shakes. He notices.

‘So, kill me, I’m ready,’ he grunts. He stands up slowly.

My eyes follow him while he starts to grow into the tallest male – actually anything – I had ever seen. He holds his hands up in a surrender position; he smiles. He is not sincere. I can tell he is mocking me. I thought all the males were to be compliant.

I have the power.

My eyebrows furrow, and I catch his eyes watching me. I must stay calm and not show him how much I really don’t want to be here.

I am in charge.

‘Kneel down,’ I say with a sturdy voice.

I firmly kick my foot into his shin. I can feel the strong muscle of his leg against my boot. Are they all this strong? Kicking has never hurt like this. He falls to his knees. I should just pull this knife against his throat and watch him bleed out. I would be praised for doing a good job. I might even be able to rank up and get some extra graduation points. He looks up at me. Once again, I find myself intrigued by his facial hair. It is so prickly and unkept. Mustn’t it be so uncomfortable? The texture did not match the hair growing on his head. The colour did though, brown coarse hair seemed to emerge almost everywhere. It was such an unusual place for hair to grow. What was the purpose of such a thing? He notices me staring, and he brushes his hands through his sweaty, greasy hair, as if to get it out of his way.

‘What is it that you want to know?’ Chase asks and this is the first time I realise, truly, what state he is in.

Just like his hair; his clothes are also drenched in sweat. His white shirt, which now looks more like a disgusting brown and cream mix, had been ripped, as if once it had full length sleeves. His pants were fitted, but not to him, they weren’t long enough and stopped halfway down his shins. The waist of his pants looked like they had been tampered with and stretched to fit.

Say something! Be assertive. What am I doing?

I just need to kill him. It is just a Stray.

They deserve to die. He deserves to die.

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask moving my knife closer to the middle of his eyes, to scare him.

Chase looks up at me still smiling and just shrugs his shoulders, like I’m supposed to understand what he’s saying.

‘I guess you could say I slept in and now I’m a bit behind on my usual schedule. So, you caught me today. Congratulations,’ He states with a sarcastic tone.

The last word was insulting.

‘Where did you come from?’ I give my knife a quick jab towards him, to scare him.

He didn’t even flinch. He looks as if he is curious about me too.

Why is he not scared? I’m getting humiliated. He knows I am a woman.

He knows what the law is.  

‘I leave and enter this way. You don’t think I know what your schedule is by now?’ Chase mocks.

‘Leave and enter? Where do you go?’ I give a quick glance around me as if I’m going to find where he escapes from.

‘If I keep giving you answers, I think we might have to come up with a deal that somehow gets you to not kill me?’ He then nods towards my knife that I’m still pointing at his head.

‘Unlikely.’ I slash at his arm, cutting his side, just enough to bleed.

Before I could get my knife back to its position in front of his head, Chase reaches behind his back and pulls out his own knife. He lurches forward, in an attempt to slice my throat. As he reaches at me, my whole body is cast cold by his enormous shadow. How could a creature be so big? I must not be intimidated. I catch my thoughts and duck just in time. He stands up and kicks me in the left side. Upon impact, all the air seems to have escaped out of my body. I can’t breathe. I am flung to the left side of the room. My body comes in contact with the wall. My ears fill with a gruesome crackling sound. As I hit the ground, my knife slips from my hold. I go to grab for it but freeze as I feel a cold metal against my throat. I know Chase’s knife is there. It is iron, sharpened today. Probably around 3 inches bigger than mine. There is no way I’m winning this knife fight. He pulls me toward him. I can feel the hot moisture of his breath as he leans near my ear.

‘You really think I come through here without some sort of weapon?’

I can feel the closeness of his mouth to the skin on my neck. The gentle breeze as he slowly breathes in and out.

Wow.

I must have hit my head really hard.

How dare he.

But how is he so strong? Why didn’t I kill him when I could have?

I feel my body going into shock. I’ve spent years learning the symptoms. We were told the rarity of this occurring. Does this really have to happen right now? I need to get out of my head and focus on him. But everything is happening so fast I can’t keep up. Chase looks into my eyes. He may be strong, but he is so easy to read. I see it now.

He can’t kill me either.

He grabs my collar harder in his fist and lifts me even closer to his face. I squint my eyes, hoping that whatever happens, happens fast. For a second I feel him relax, like he is breathing in all the oxygen in the universe at once. He has never killed anyone either. My eyes open, and I see the green reflection of his iris.

Huh. Green eyes. How rare.

His grip suddenly loosens, and my body crashes down fast to the ground. I fumble my hands around on the cold, wet concrete floor. I feel the familiar touch of my knife. I move fast and slow all at the same time. I have to be precise in my moves. He may not have been able to kill me, but he isn’t getting away with that. I quickly bend over, picking it up swiftly. I grip it so tight I feel the wood of the handle imprinting on my palms. My knuckles turn white, as my grip tightens. I stare at him. His eyes match mine.

‘Okay, so why didn’t you kill me?’ he asks casually, like he didn’t just have his knife sitting suggestively on my throat.

Suddenly the walls feel closer than before. My chest feels like it is being sat on. The heat rises up under my skin, as I begin to slowly boil red.

Why can he just talk to me like that, like I’m his equal? Why is he even talking to me at all?

‘I can see you’re conflicted. Do you think we could just have a conversation about things?’ Chase still holds that arrogant smirk to the bottom of his face.

He is so calm, so casual. He needs to stop. I want to punch him. I want to slap him across the face to remove that stupid smirk. Now is my time. I lunge for him, throwing all my weight and anger towards him. He is too fast; too quick. Almost gracefully, he stands to the side, as if to let me pass.

How does he keep managing to make a fool of me?

‘Make a deal? You don’t tell your people that you’ve seen me, and I won’t tell my people that I’ve seen you, how about we start there?’ Chase holds out his hand.

I shake his hand before I realise what I’m even doing. His hand is big; strong. I feel the warmth of his hand against mine. It feels nice, but a better version of nice. It feels as if I’m being hugged, if all the comfort in the world was wrapping around me. I feel safe.

No.

I don’t.

He takes his hand away first, much sooner than I had wished. He gives me a mocking salute as he runs off past me to wherever he is going. I try to suppress the heat rising in my cheeks, and hope that he doesn’t notice. His feet slap the floor in the distance, thundering the corridors.

‘You’ll be dead if I ever see you again,’ I echo down the chamber.

‘We’ll see about that, killer.’ His cold deep voice echoes all around me, and I stand there until I can hear it no longer.