When it opened its eye, Yenna's hair unraveled and blew back, flying behind her. She dug her heels into the dirt, holding her mother's arm, and didn't move to fix it. A blue iris rolled around the massive eyeball, searching but never landing on anything. Maybe it couldn't see them so far down on the ground.
The cliff's edge was packed with creatures. That was the only way Yenna could describe them: sickly, starving humanoid creatures, all holding hands, all waiting for her father to walk forward. Her father stood in the middle of the creatures, his suit ruffled by the wind, his hair secured so tightly that it didn't move an inch. He hadn't even flinched when the Leviathan rose. The man standing at the edge of that cliff was ready for whatever happened next, and that was the only thing Yenna could be sure about. Derrick Teroy held his head high, his shoulders back, and left his face somber. This wasn't something to smile about; it wasn't a fun game to play. This was the continuation of two species. It was a necessity.
This is an honor.
The creatures' sweat stuck to the rocks, dripping as a thick mucus from their pores. Yenna stood in full makeup, her elaborate dress blowing in the wind, and wondered why she needed to dress up for these things.
"They want to feel impressed with us, I think," Babelle Teroy explained that morning, tucking Yenna's hair into a bun. "Either way, it's a big day for your father. You should want to look nice."
"Will it hurt?"
The pause in Babelle's movements said enough, but she continued anyway.
"What a stupid question."
On the cliff's edge, Babelle didn't pause. Her heart beat steadily, and Yenna kept track of the small thuds in her hand, gauging how she should feel. The monster staring down at them stretched so far into the sky that she couldn't breathe when she tried to see its face. Waves smashed against the rocks below as it moved, then the darkness came.
Here, Babelle's heart quickened, but only for a moment.
The dark crawled forward from the Leviathan, swallowing everything but her father, the creatures, and the giant eye on top of its head. The setting sun disappeared; the details of the cliff erased from existence. After a moment, all Yenna could see was her father's silhouette, somehow standing out in all the black, and the thick outline of the starving bodies. They panted. They were eager.
Derrick kept his head high.
"He'll do wonderful," Yenna whispered. If she spoke any louder, she'd whimper. It was natural to be afraid, maybe, but all of Yenna's fear struggled under deep shame. Why should she be afraid? It was a practice as old as Devershai themselves, as old as the monsters eating them, around for as long as she'd been alive. Every year, they'd marked the days her father had left on the calendar. It was just another milestone.
"Happy thirtieth, Derrick," Babelle whispered. She allowed herself a small sob. "Thank you for everything."
As if triggered by Babelle's words, the monster leaned its head back. A humanoid face appeared, eyes closed, and it moved its massive mouth over Derrick. Yenna held her body as still as possible, hid her own thoughts from herself, and tried to control her heartbeat.
The sickly creatures stepped forward. Small tendrils crawled from their mouths, darker than the darkness, and disappeared into the Leviathan's skin. It waited until they each attached, and then it opened its mouth. There were no teeth. There was nothing but more darkness, so black Yenna couldn't look. It moved over Derrick, covering him, then it suddenly pulled back. It waited for a moment. Waited until Derrick looked up. A long smile appeared on its face.
Babelle's heart beat hard, hurting Yenna's hand. A tentacle appeared from over the cliff edge. It slid over the rocks and crawled up Derrick's side, then pushed his head back. The loud snap of his neck surprised Yenna so much that she dropped her mother's hand. Derrick let out a strangled cry, then it looked as if he tried to turn, to run, but couldn't. His body fell back, and the tentacle pushed down on his stomach until his organs burst. It picked up his body, swung it around, and smashed it against the rocky surface.
The sounds of Derrick's bones snapping sat on top of the darkness, echoing. Babelle let out a long breath, choking, then coughed when she failed to compose herself. Yenna stood stiff, her eyes wide.
Derrick's screams never stopped. They found their way through twisted flesh and a mashed throat. They grew into a frenzy, scared and pained. Yenna listened as her father's bones snapped, as his screams turned to gurgles, as they vibrated to the rhythm of his shaking body.
As he spasmed.
As he begged.
There was nowhere else to look. The darkness covered everything but him. The beast punctured her father's skull, dragging his convulsing body over the cliff, then, finally, it pulled him into its mouth. A pulse of blue light waved over its body and pushed into the creatures, and they filled like cars at a gas tank. Yenna realized she could see other monsters miles away, all glowing, all filling smaller creatures. All devouring their food.
Playing with their food.
The darkness disappeared as quickly as it'd arrived, and Yenna caught a small, clear glimpse of the Leviathan. All she could see was scale. Size.
Babelle gripped Yenna and fell forward, but Yenna held her mother up. She pulled and held her mother in place until she could hold herself again. The Leviathan moved forward, sending the crowd scrambling back in fear, and it smiled again. More tentacles pulsed over the mountain. Yenna waited for one to claim her, holding her mother, refusing to shake.
It's an honor, it's an honor, it's an honor…
"Stop it! Go!" a woman angrily yelled, rushing toward the cliff edge. She towered over everyone, her long black hair swaying behind her as she fussed. "You're done!"
The giant eye squinted, but it turned, disconnecting from the slimy creatures below it. They fell where they stood, exhausted. Full.
As it wandered off, Yenna could see that it didn't have a bottom. Just massive clumps of tentacles rolling over each other. Smaller beasts crawled out of the water over it, suctioning to its tentacles, crawling over its body like ants. The crowd stood, silence hovering then settling into the night. The darkness that surrounded the beast eased, following it into the deep ocean, covering it from airplanes and ships and anything else that might see it at its most fragile.
The night sky blinded Yenna for a moment. Then she let it, and her father, go.
"A credit to his species," Babelle said with a sob, waving a last goodbye. "I can't believe we get this honor."
"It played with his body like a ketchup packet," a soft voice said from behind, but Yenna held her mother in place. "You call that honor?" Someone shushed the voice menacingly.
Yenna didn't move. She tried another breath, failed, and tried once more. The crowd thinned out around them as the creatures thanked the woman and disappeared into the night. They looked more human now. They looked so human that she couldn't tell which were the ones lined up to feed from the monster and which were the ones she'd seen covered in sweat. The woman who scolded the monster pulled a small step stool over to the cliffside and climbed up, waving sheepishly at the crowd. Even this woman was large enough to cause damage if she decided to smash through the guests.
"Hello. Thank you all for being here. I know it's not the easiest thing to sit through, but it helps keep this organized. We are thankful for Derrick Teroy and his sacrifice. Because of him, the ecosystem is one step closer to balance. Everyone, please give the Teroy family line a round of applause for their willingness to fulfill their duties."
The small crowd managed slow, traumatized claps. Babelle nodded politely, already composing herself.
Yenna didn't move.
"We want to thank you all for your hospitality. It's wonderful to be here, and it's wonderful to ensure the continuation of our species together. Let's continue to be respectful and exist harmoniously. I'll keep this brief so we can all go home." The woman pulled out a weathered notebook and prepared to speak.
People stood eagerly around Yenna and Babelle, hoping for a family member to be called. You always hoped for your family member to go, or a friend. Most Devershai, like Derrick, felt a sense of pride in being called. They felt purpose. They held hands, eyes squeezed shut, waiting to be drafted into the mouths of monsters lurking beyond the water. Even in the aftermath of an agonizing death, they still wanted to go.
But all Yenna could hear was the crunching of her father's bones, the squeeze of his blood pouring from any escape it could find.
The gruesomeness of it all.
"As always, we'll close with the next line of exchanges. It's closer than usual, unfortunately, but we need to make up for lost time due to some bad agents."
The voice behind Yenna scoffed.
"We will have another ceremony in five years' time. The next in line to be exchanged from this particular group of family lines are as follows: Maybel Dennis, Terrell Lewis, Mathony Correll, Yenna Teroy, Harold Free, or a suitable child. Bambi Armstrong or a suitable—"
Yenna's stomach tightened, then her calves. She leaned on her mother, a smile still painted on, and begged herself not to shake. This was an honor. This was an honor, it was an honor, it was an honor. Babelle beamed with a sort of shell-shocked pride, rubbing her daughter's back.
"So soon!"
I can't. I can't, I can't, I can't.
"No, no, sweetheart, go back!" the voice behind them exclaimed, and Yenna finally turned around.
A long woman snapped her manicured fingers over and over, raising an arm in the air. She kept snapping until the announcer stopped, raising two tiny irises to see her clearly. Babelle gripped her daughter's arm, mortified, and Yenna hoped she wouldn't notice the thick beat of her heart.
Babelle did not tolerate fear she didn't own.
The announcer stared at the woman knowingly, annoyed. "Cora, maybe your question can wait until the end of the ceremony? We don't want to insult the Teroys on their big day."
"Far be it for me to distract them from the gruesome death of their loved one, but you're wrong. Take the girl and my son off the list. I hate to do your job for you, Shadow, but you should be clear when someone's life is on the line. The Teroys just performed an exchange. Surely, you witnessed the young man get his body snapped in half while your baby uncle played with his remains?"
The announcer opened her mouth, then stopped. Her eyes shrunk even smaller, two small dots in a sea of white. They grew before she spoke again.
"We apologize for Arik's behavior. He hasn't quite adjusted to being a Leviathan yet, and we turned him early as it is. We're a few decades behind because of the little debacle at David's exchange, aren't we? Surely, you know about that."
A murmur went through the crowd. Cora sighed, rolling her head until her long braid fell over her shoulder.
"Surely. And that's why it's important to get it right. We're supposed to respect the humanity in each other, correct? Yenna and Harold shouldn't be on the list. There's no reason to toss the poor girl into the water so early without giving her a chance to birth a replacement. She should have the same amount of time every other immortal Devershai does—"
"Babelle and Derrick only produced one immortal child, and that's Yenna. He was not an immortal. The family still has to fulfill its obligation. She has to go next."
"She's thirteen. She has until she's thirty. That's the arrangement."
"She is unmarried and hasn't proclaimed a desire to have children. Cora, could we discuss this later—"
"I've already discussed a compromise with Babelle Teroy. Yenna and my son, Harold, will be married soon. We'll join the lines and phase mine out. I'm sure you'll all like that. So they can't both be sacrificed unless they fail to produce a suitable child. I submitted the proper paperwork to Eon Tech weeks ago. Your list is wrong; at least check it before you clunk your stolen body onto the stage." Cora's soft voice somehow pierced every inch of darkness. The more she spoke, the brighter the cliffside grew.
There was a long pause, only the ferocious wind daring to make a sound.
She's not afraid of them. They're not even bold enough to talk over her.
The announcer shuffled her papers, flushing red. Her irises shrunk again.
Yenna's mother sucked in a horrified breath, pushing her forward. "We're fine for Yenna to go as soon as you deem it necessary! She can go now if you want! We don't shirk our duties," Babelle managed, her anguish turning to anger. "Cora Free does NOT speak for the Teroy family line!"
Cora gave the back of Babelle's head a long look, then rolled her eyes. She tossed her braid over her shoulder and left, her heels clicking over the rocky surface.
"Of course, Babelle, we know your integrity is rock solid. Always a pleasure to speak with you, Cora; hopefully we'll see you next time! Yenna?"
It's an honor, it's an honor, it's an honor…
Yenna raised her head confidently, raising her chin as her father taught her to do. Presenting herself proudly. The thought of her father's neck snapping back sent a flash of panic through her, but she ignored it and held her head higher.
"Please excuse my mistake. We're not trying to get an extra meal out of you, I promise. If your marriage takes place, a suitable child is preferred." She paused, going over ugly words in her head, then gave a wide smile. "Please eliminate the Free line. Don't allow the selfish nature of the Free family to poison your own graciousness."
Yenna nodded politely, smiling at the crowd, and returned to her mother.
"Of course you wouldn't," Babelle whispered, embarrassed.
The announcer continued without interruption, filling the mountain with her husky voice. When she reached the end of the list, she sighed in relief.
"Egon Adonis, you are not allowed to replace yourself with a child, as you are your mother's replacement. I think that's all we need from this generation. I look forward to seeing you all again. Thank you all for the service you provide to our people. You are a credit to your species."
Yenna escorted her mother down the cliffside. The Shadows decorated the mountain with lots of string lights and lanterns, but it never mattered once the ceremony started. The monsters ate all the light. The two walked calmly along the lighted path until they reached the chair lift, then they rode down in silence. Yenna looked for Cora among the riders but couldn't find her.
She probably flew down, the damn demon.
"That was rough," Yenna muttered once they touched ground and made it to the parking lot. They stood in front of their car while Babelle tried to compose herself, struggling to get the key in the lock. Her hands shook so hard that the keys fell to the ground.
"It was fine. They did their best. Their young have to learn somehow. It's always been a fair exchange."
"I don't think it learned anything. It mutilated him. How is that fair?"
Babelle smacked the back of Yenna's head with as much force as she could manage, rage and sorrow bursting in one solid huff from her nose. She sucked in a long, angry breath, then yanked Yenna's hair out of her bun, pulling until all of it framed her daughter's body like a cape.
"I'm sorry," Yenna started, but Babelle choked and doubled over. She hit Yenna in the face, open palmed, then smashed her fist into her temple. She hit her again after a moment, an inhuman wheeze escaping the tight clench of her teeth, then punched her neck and shoulders until Yenna cried out, not daring to raise her hands. She fell against the car next to them, struggling not to fall all the way to the ground, but Babelle hit her until she did.
"It was honorable! It was an honor, a fucking honor! How dare you insult your father? How dare you look down on him when he—"
"No, I'm proud! I'm proud! It was an honor!" Yenna tried to pull away, but Babelle sped after her, ripping at her dress, smashing her hands into her face until the world blurred. She drug Yenna until her legs stuck under the neighboring car, pulling her over the ground.
"Go jump off that damn cliff! Break every bone in apology, you wench! How dare you?!"
Yenna tasted blood in her mouth and sat up on her knees, knowing not to hide her body from her mother's anger. She waited until the blows couldn't reach her through the swelling flesh, waited until Babelle's screeches of rage calmed and filtered into quiet sobs. She watched lines of blood drop from her face onto the ground, the blood drying and crumbling in front of her eyes.
It's an honor, it's an honor, it's an honor.
"It was fair, wasn't it? They could've done worse, but they didn't! It was fair! He-he saved so many of us from that same fate! He's a hero! It's fair, isn't it?!" Babelle waited for an answer, digging her nails into her own arms, pushing until her own blood burst out and sifted into the air as powder. People wandered by them, but Babelle continued to shriek. "It was fair! They wouldn't allow their fucking young to PLAY with our bodies unless there was a reason! It's fair! It's honorable! They know they can't destroy Derrick so easily, so they were rougher with him! They know what they're doing!" Babelle turned and kicked Yenna, and she didn't stop until the air wouldn't reach her lungs.
"Babelle," Cora said behind them. Babelle stopped, eyes wide, and gasped. She straightened, turning to face Cora, but didn't offer an explanation. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt you. You were having a conversation with your daughter, yes? Maybe you should let her answer. I'm invested at this point; I want to know what she thinks."
They waited for Yenna to stop gagging. She shivered on the ground, holding her side. It took a while for Yenna to stand, doubling over for just a moment, then straightening. She spit blood onto the sidewalk, pulling her ankle-length hair back into a ponytail holder. She smoothed out her dress as much as she could, biding her time until the shaking stopped. Babelle glared, out of breath, but waited.
Yenna smiled, ignoring the hot blood sifting into the air and disappearing over their heads. "It was fair."
"Oh, look at that! I'd say you got your point across, Babelle. Why don't I drive you home? You're a little too raw to make it to Chastain. I'll get your car in the morning."
Babelle, still glaring at Yenna, nodded in silent agreement.
Babelle fell into an anguished slumber almost immediately after entering Cora's van, stretched across the backseat. She wept in her sleep, sobbing her husband's name. Yenna sat calmly in the front seat, hands in her lap.
"What a cunt," Cora groaned. She passed Yenna napkins to wipe the sweat from her face. "Just an absolute cunt."
Yenna didn't comment, worried that her mother would pounce from behind her. She kept her eyes on the road and tried not to think of her father's neck snapping. Every patch of darkness made her heart jump.
"You know, it's always strange to me when a key-yunt like that gets to walk around fine while everyone around her is sacrificed. Shouldn't we throw her in the pot at some point? She probably tastes bad—"
"Please, Mrs. Free. My father just died."
Cora nodded, patting Yenna's back.
"Your father was a cunt, too, honestly, but I sympathize."
Yenna realized she was on the verge of tears. When was the last time she cried? Maybe when her father gave her the test, but that was when she was seven. She couldn't even remember what it felt like.
"You ready to get married?" Cora asked, rubbing Yenna's back again.
"Yes."
"Sure you are. Just a good little girl doing whatever her parents tell her. Parent. My son is thirty-four. Did you know that?"
Yenna hid a gasp, clasping her hands together.
It's an honor.
"No."
"Well, one of your cunt parents probably should have relayed that information. I'm sure it might have changed your decision about being engaged to him."
"It wouldn't. It's an honor. Thank you," Yenna muttered, but her heart sank. "If you don't mind me asking, why wasn't he sacrificed when he turned thirty? Was your husband immortal?"
"Yup. We had the honor of watching Mr. Eric Free crunch up like bubble wrap when Harold was your age. They at least paired him with an adult Leviathan so there was less playing going on. And then it was just me and my Harold. You know how much the Shadows love a good single mother." She pulled a bottle of whiskey from under the seat and took a swig. "Second worst day of my life."
"What was the first?" Yenna muttered, then blushed.
Cora laughed. "Oh, I don't talk about that with strangers! When you're my daughter, we'll talk. We'll talk a lot. I want you to talk my fucking ear off, in fact." Cora glanced in the rearview mirror for too long, taking in Babelle's snoring mouth. "My son isn't interested in marrying you. He's not interested in any of this, and I'm not inclined to force him."
"If he doesn't marry me, I have to be consumed," Yenna said simply, controlling her tone. Cora paused, shocked. "Please ask him to marry me."
"Are you afraid?"
Yenna cursed herself and stopped talking, gazing out the window.
It's an—
"Don't worry another second, sweetheart. Not another minute. You won't be consumed. You won't marry a grown man. You won't do any of that."
"I will. Please allow me to marry your son—"
"No … I'm saying there's more to it. Because it's not an honor, and none of this is fair. Say that. Say it's not an honor and it's not fucking fair."
Yenna opened her mouth, but a stir from Babelle closed it. She held back tears, shaking instead.
"She's asleep. Say it."
"I would really like to marry your son, Mrs. Free. Thank you."
Cora sucked her teeth. "Maybe my baby didn't get sacrificed because I'm a hard worker. And maybe I'm gonna work hard for you, too. Maybe all you need to do is be patient and stop being such a good girl."
Yenna waited for Cora to keep talking, but she didn't. The two drove in silence, Cora guzzling the whiskey and smiling to herself. When they finally pulled up in front of her family's downtown Chastain apartment, Cora grabbed Yenna's shoulder. It struck Yenna how regal and refined Cora seemed, even with a bottle of whiskey in her lap. How poised she was even when she was calling her mother names.
"I want you to hit her back the next time she hits you. Pop her in the face with a glass bottle, maybe. Bonus points if it's a wine bottle." Yenna managed an incredulous smile, still staring down at her lap. "You're laughing. I mean it. Beat her to death if she touches you. Beat anyone to death if they touch you, man, woman, child, parent. I don't care if it's a baby; put the little bastard out of its misery for the attempt. You're gonna be living with a Free soon. I don't raise weaklings."
"I'm supposed to dissolve your family—"
"Oh, girl, that's not gonna happen! You're so silly!" Cora kissed Yenna's cheek lovingly, letting out a long laugh. "Like I said. I'm working hard for you. And everything you thought a Devershai was supposed to do doesn't apply to my family. Do you understand?"
Yenna didn't respond, eyes wide. She traveled the torn line of her dress, stopping at her exposed knee. Cora followed her eyes.
"Pop that bitch good if she touches you. Break her face. Bring me her cheekbones. Consider it your key into your new life. And call me if she gives you trouble over it."
"I don't have your number."
Cora handed Yenna a small phone, pushing when she refused.
"If you stay here with your mother, getting beat into the ground, you can count on being consumed when you're thirty. I started my singing career at thirty. I learned to play the piano at thirty. I traveled the world at thirty. Thirty is nothing. You're immortal. You get an eternity. Now, go ahead and carry this cunt upstairs. I can't do manual labor, my love; it's just not in me."
Cora watched as Yenna retrieved her mother from the back, careful and gentle. Babelle stumbled awake, glaring at her daughter, but turned and waved her thanks. Cora didn't respond.
"I'll see you at the wedding, Yenna!" Cora sang, peeling off into the night.
Babelle stumbled to the door, drunk on anguish. She didn't bother to wait for her daughter, but she tapped the doorframe to snap her out of her staring.
Yenna stood for a moment, watching the smoke from her future mother-in-law's tires fill the air. She waited until her heart slowed down enough for her to hear the calm breeze and the music coming from her neighbor's window.
Before she wandered in after her mother, Yenna held her head high. She stared at the sea down the street, at the beach water glistening in the distance, and whispered, "It's not an honor. It's not fucking fair."