My Work In Progress

thanks @jonas and @highscribeofaetherium ! It’s always so encouraging when you get positive feedback. Thank you so much for reading it! This next chapter seems to be a different story, but the prologue just explains the story behind how evil took over Andromeda. So don’t let the change of scene and new characters confuse you!

Here’s the next chapter:

Chapter 1: Pythonos

It was a cold and still night in the city of Lir. Clouds were moving in quickly from the west, casting shadows upon the eerily quiet street.

Every Andomedan was in bed, sound asleep with his head on his pillow, and unaware that tonight would be the first in a series of nights that would change their world…and most definitely not for the better.

Not even an insect dared break the silence. The world was watching, waiting…

A twig snapped.

The twin moons were bright behind the clouds, shining on two dark figures navigating the streets.

The taller of the two carried a limp bundle in his arms; the other walked quickly at his side. They wore long cloaks, and hoods hid their faces. From within the hoods, two green orbs glowed that were unmistakably eyes. After every step, their cloak swept the ground, alerting anyone who was listening of their presence.

A horrible stench trailed behind the two, following wherever they went. It could have been rotting meat, or maybe the smell of mud, or even the smell of death. But it was something much, much worse than all of these possibilities, if you can imagine something so repulsive as this. It was the scent of pure evil, the scent of the Pythonos.

As they passed, the vermin scrambled to get away, each finding his hole and disappearing at once, desperate to hide from the horrible smell, but the smell seemed to follow them down their hole and torment them further. Every bird stretched out her wings to cover her young, protecting them, and trembling in fear. The dogs stirred in their cages and shuddered.

Still, the stench affected the unconscious as well.

In their sleep, the young children began to toss and turn, and even the grown-ups began to have nightmares. The sirens, miles under the sea smelled it as well, and hid behind the coral, clutching their tails to their chest and whimpering out in fear.

And still the Pythonos kept on, seeming to travel with the wind for some unknown evil intent.

But wait-suddenly they turned sharply to the right and began walking up the sidewalk to a house on the street. One could only pray for that house, which was surely cursed. The taller knocked on the door slowly, first once….twice…then a pause. Finally, the last knock resounded throughout the neighborhood, yet still there was no movement in the house. And no wonder, considering what nightmare the inhabitants surely knew by now was awaiting outside their front door.

For a moment, the taller draped his arm around his companion’s shoulder, as if he were comforting her, but then they drew apart. The other raised her fist to knock once more, but before fist met wood, a light flashed on inside the house. The two waited in an overwhelming silence.

The wind shifted suddenly and began to blow towards the south and carrying the scent, towards the building where the council of The Order lay asleep in their beds…all but one, Linnaeus the Pitt. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up, and he knew at once that there was a Pythonos in Lir.

Meanwhile, the two on the porch waited for the door to be answered. Shadows moved behind the drapes, and the horrible smell worsened, seeming to become stronger by the minute. Miles across town, Linnaeus retched and almost vomited after taking in a greedy sniff of the air.

Now the lock clicked and the door slowly swung open. The face of a tired woman was revealed. She wore a nightgown and her feet were bare. Her violet eyes marked her as an Estrello. She blinked rapidly as if adjusting to the darkness. Suddenly she let out a small shriek and her hands flew to her mouth, perhaps from fright, or perhaps she had smelled the stench and had gagged. Neither assumption was irrational.

“Good heavens, it’s a Pythonos!” she recoiled in fear. “Two of them!” she screeched, moving her hand from her mouth to her nose, where she proceeded to pinch her nostrils to avoid breathing in the putrid air.

“We are well aware what we are,” the taller spoke. His gravely voice gave the Estrello goosebumps…or maybe it was the sudden chill in the night air…. “but we need to ssspeak with the doctor. Now.” His voice hissed like a snake and was sharp and dangerous like broken glass. His partner reached inside her cloak and slid out a knife. It wasn’t that she didn’t have a pistol, it was that she proffered to use a knife. There was something about feeling blood slide down your neck and the pressure of a sharp edge against your windpipe that made her victims crack every time. She held it up against the moonlight for effect. The crooked, black blade wrought of nothing but evil glinted in the moonlight, and she leapt like a cat, pressing the blade to the terrified Estrello’s throat.

“Do as he saysss,” she hissed threateningly.

“Just go away!” The woman choked out, “though that won’t make a difference, he’s probably already cursed this place,” she muttered under her breath.

“Now!” she pressed the knife harder against the victim’s neck until a trickle of violet Estrello blood slid down her neck.

“Al-Alright,” she croaked, reaching for the door handle. The taller one nodded, and the other swiftly removed the blade.

“Good.”

“Thank you, Ssselena,” the taller smiled a twisted grin at the woman-if you could call her that- at his side.

The Estrello quickly opened the door, quickly stepped inside and began to close it, but Selena was quicker. She grabbed the Estrello’s wrist and pulled her outside, grabbing her neck in a vice that was incredibly strong for a woman of her size.“No more tricksss,” she warned, dropping the panicked woman to the ground.

“Just please, I beg of you, leave us!” she cried, tears sliding down her face as she curled into a fetal position on the ground.

“What is all of this commotion?” A sharp voice resounded through the night air as the doctor Kratos hurried to the door, clad in nightcap and nightgown.

At that moment, the hood hiding the one of the Pythonos’ identity fell away. The Estrello scrambled to her feet and hid behind her husband timidly. “I’m afraid you’ve upset my wife greatly. Please leave,” he glared at the couple. “Oh. It’s you.” the voice, now tinged with recognition was full of disdain and something else…pure hatred. “Jordan, Selena,” he nodded at them. He kept his face steady, angry, and calm, but just then, his chin quivered for a split second. “What do you want?”

“Our ssson is very ill,” Jordan hissed, but his voice seemed to become softer. He removed the blanket to reveal a small child in his arms. “You will help usss,” Jordan said, “and perhapsss we will not curssse you after all.” Kratos sighed, holding out his arms and taking the child gingerly as if he wanted to touch him as little as possible. The boy stirred and whimpered. His face was ashen, and droplets of sweat adorned his brow. He coughed and then went still. Selena chewed her lip and wrung her hands behind her back.

“Go back inside,” Kratos instructed his wife. She obediently went back into the house, not spending a second more outside. Turning to the couple before him, he began firing questions at them. “Has he been refusing to eat? Has he been fussy? Has his eyes been changing colors?”

“Yesss,” Said Selena. Her face was tense, and her eyes became worried.

Kratos sighed dramatically, shaking his head and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “And did his symptoms disappear for about three days?” Jordan nodded.

“And then they came back, twice as worssse,” Selena finished gravely. Kratos frowned.

“I’m afraid your son has the illness known as Dierdre’s Curse. It is a genetic mutation which occurs in the Pythonos branch.” He was obviously attempting to sound as apologetic as possible, however the expression on his face made it clear he was anything but sorry. He paused and licked his lips like a lion waiting to pounce. He delivered the final blow:“I cannot give you any cure. Your son will not survive the night, I’m afraid. Good night.” He gently handed the trembling boy to Selena and shrugged, beginning to close the door.

“No!” Selena wailed, clutching her son to her chest. Jordan’s green eyes flashed in anger.

“I will curssse your home, your family, and you and your wife if you do not give usss the cure!” he growled. Kratos froze. Then the door swung open again.

“There is a cure.” he seemed hesitant, regretful.

“Then give it to me!” Jordan screamed, lunging at Kratos, blade in hand.

“I cannot give it to you!” Kratos protested, throwing up his hands in a surrender and squirming away from Jordan and narrowing his eyes until they were slits. “I am forbidden to serve the Pythonos here.”

“Curssse you, Kratosss!” Selena spat on the ground. Kratos raised an eyebrow.

“Now is not the time for violence, Selena, unless you wish the Order to take care of both of you!” Kratos slithered inside like the snake he was and slammed the door, leaving the two on the front steps.

Selena firmly wrapped the blanket around the child so he would be comfortable in his last hours. Or at least, as comfortable as he could be with a disease so horrible as Dierdre’s Curse. She set her face forward. She would not cry. A Pythonos did not cry, or feel. They knew only evil.

And with nowhere to go, and devoid of hope, Jordan put his arm around Selena and they began the trek back into the Farnbron Mountains, the home of the cursed race of the Pythonos.

And when the sun rose, the sound of weeping bled across the mountains as the couple mourned the loss of their first born son.

By the time the sun set the next day, both Kratos and his wife were found dead.

Jordan and Selena were never found.

Third Chapter: A Hard Life 

Trigger warning: a slap, threats, etc.

“Git your grubby fingers off that bread!” Lilitu froze. He looked longingly at the loaf of bread which might as well have been a bar of gold, before turning to face the enraged Azer. He turned to face the man, leaning on his cane for support, subconsciously tucking his twisted foot behind his leg.

“I wasn’t stealing it, mister,” he stammered. “I was…inspecting it, for quality before I bought it!” Lilitu’s stomach knotted. He knew better than anyone he was no good at lying. The man strode closer, towering over the boy.

“Don’t you lie to me, Payne,” he spat on the ground, narrowly missing Lilitu’s dirty feet.

“Alright, I was stealing!” Lilitu puffed out his chest. He would not let the man know how scared he really was. “It’s only because my family is starving. Paynes have to eat too, you know.” Before Lilitu could get his bearings, he was sprawled on the ground gasping for breath. He pressed a hand to his cheek where the man had slapped him, wincing, and looked over in despair as his staff skittered away on the sidewalk.

“No backtalk, boy,” the man kicked him in the ribs for good measure. “Not to me.” Lilitu fought to catch his breath as the air rushed out of his lungs. He pulled himself up to his feet, his chest screaming in pain.

“I’m sorry sir-” he wheezed, clutching his side.

“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” the Azer stuck a flaming palm in Lilitu’s face. Although the heat was intense, Lilitu didn’t back down.

“If you were my boy, I would whip you good,” the Azer’s voice was dangerously low and threatening.

“If I were your son, I would have all the bread I could want and wouldn’t need to be stealing,” Lilitu said, lifting his chin and looking into the bright orange eyes in front of him. He couldn’t help himself. The moment the words came out, he knew it was a mistake.

“You little rat!” the Azer screamed as a ball of fire shot from his hands and engulfed Lilitu’s precious cane. Lilitu burned with anger as his only method of transportation burned before his eyes. The Azer must have seen the horrified look on Lilitu’s face because he chuckled in satisfaction, and the flame burned hotter in his palm as hot air singed Lilitu’s nose. He slowly stood up, fighting the urge to cry out in pain as half his weight was placed on his bad foot. He placed two agate stones in the man’s palm, praying that the Azer wouldn’t comment on his three missing fingers. The flames vanished, and the man’s greedy fingers closed around the coins.

“Just because you were stealing from me, you get a half loaf.” The Azer’s orange eyes glittered with greed.

Lilitu sighed, defeated. The coins were all he had. Azazel had told him to only use them as an emergency, but Lilitu and his family were starving, and if that wasn’t an emergency, he didn’t know what was.

“Like I said, we’re starving,” he pleaded, tears of desperation pricking his eyes. He forced them back into his eyes. He knew never to show emotion when he was treated this way, especially by Azers. They could easily lose their tempers as this one had, and the consequence had been the loss of one of the only thing that Lilitu needed to survive.

“As if I care,” the man turned up his nose. “Get out of here before I change my mind!” Lilitu didn’t need to be told twice. He took half of the loaf of precious bread, and began to turn away. But the final half loaf of bread caught his eye again, glittering and glowing with the promise of a full stomach that Lilitu had not the pleasure of experiencing since the Pythonos took over. His right hand itched in his pocket, pulled to the forbidden bread like a magnet to iron.

He did the logical thing. When the Azer wasn’t looking, he simply snatched the other half and stuffed it down his shirt, tucking it into his waistband of his pants.

Now without his staff, Lilitu began the painful limp home.

***

It didn’t take Lilitu long to get to the slums the Paynes called home, although he only had one good foot.

And slums were exactly what the run down shacks were.

In the center of the community was a large trash heap, dwarfing the houses themselves. The dirty Farnbron Brook was muddy and anything but clean, due to the troublesome other branches who would deposit their own trash and waste into the water, carrying it directly into the slums. The smell was horrendous, but it was better to endure the texture, smell, and taste then to slowly perish from dehydration.

Lilitu stopped at the water’s edge, pausing a moment before he crossed the brook. The Farnbron Brook, dirty as it was, always held some sort of sentiment for him. He knew from his father Azazel and mother Indie that he was saved from the clutches of the water as a baby, a whole twelve years ago. As he waded across the stream, he had to be careful not to lose what little footing he had so he would not fall and be swept to the Farnbron Falls, which would mean certain death.

In his mind’s eye he imagined big, strong, Azazel plunging into the water to save him. He who was then but an infant, a worthless Payne cast away by the parents who gave him up. He shuddered, knowing what would have happened if Azazel had not been so selfless and dove in to rescue him.

He saw himself being carried to the edge, faster, faster, and then in a blink of an eye, Lilitu’s life would be over as quickly as it began.

He continued across the brook, wishing now that there was a bridge across, but of course the Paynes could never afford such things. He flinched as a sharp rock jabbed his bad foot. If only he had his crutch, he thought.

This kind of life is what the Paynes deserve. Or at least, that’s what everyone said. This is all they will ever be, they told Lilitu and every other Payner over and over and over again.

Now across the brook, Lilitu came to the doorway of his dwelling where he removed his shoes and pushed aside the blanket and entered his home. He was the youngest son, and his bed was against the wall to the left, which he shared with his older brother Eloy. Cassian. as the eldest, got a bed to himself, and his father Azazel and mother Indie shared the last and final one. They had a dirt floor, and a rug on which they ate their dinners, which unfortunately were few and far between. They had a small oven, a few candles, and a rocking chair in the corner. If only they had electricity they might have had a microwave, but then there was no food to put in the microwave, anyway, so they didn’t have any use for it. If only they had a heater, but with no electricity and no money to pay for it, they made do with what little blankets they had and bundled up on the bitterly cold nights.

Lilitu’s mother was sitting in this rocking chair as Lilitu entered the house. All of Lilitu’s brothers were huddled around her. They were stone faced, emotionless, and that scared Lilitu. Already he could tell something was very wrong.

“Where have you been?” his mother snapped, her voice sharp as glass. Her lower lip trembled, sending chills down Lilitu’s spine. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw his mother cry.

“I was at the market,” Lilitu handed her one of the half loaves of bread. He reached down his shirt and pulled the other one out, ignoring the way that his brothers curiously stared at him. He held the bread out at arm’s length, as if it were a peace offering.

“You should have been here,” Indie’s voice broke. She dropped her eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry, my child. I should not have yelled, but the Pythonos came when you were gone. They took…they took Neveah. And Hanna.”

Chapter 5: The UNIT

Triggers: Violence

Neveah awoke to the horrible sound of beeping monitors and unfamiliar voices.

Her eyes flashed open, but now she wished that she could erase what she had just seen from her memory.

She was in a bed, covered in white sheets. The place reeked of Pythonos. Worse, there was one hovering over her right now. She almost gagged as the smell entered her nostrils.

“So, you’ve come to,” he chuckled, sending his rotten breath in waves towards Neveah’s face.

“Where have you brought me?” Neveah demanded, trying to sit up, but to her horror, she discovered that she was strapped down tightly. And then a thought crossed her mind. Hanna. “What have you done with my daughter?” she screamed.

“It’s time for you to ressst,” he hissed, lifting her chin with his ugly finger.

“Don’t touch me!” Neveah recoiled in disgust, glaring at the Pythonos.

“You could be an Azer,” he smiled cruelly, letting his hand fall to his side, “so much fire,” he walked out of view, heels pounding against the ground in a terrible rhythm.

Now left alone, Neveah glanced about the room. It was large, and beds lined every wall. She looked down and bit her lip as she saw a needle sticking out of her arm. Wires taped to her arms and neck irritated her skin and itched, but she could not move her hands from the bed to which they were strapped. Her neck was in a brace, and she could not move her head or even turn it to the side. Her breaths became panicked and loud. She was trapped. Trapped.

“What is this place?” She wondered aloud.

“This is the UNIT,” a young voice spoke from next to her.

Neveah blinked rapidly, gazing at the ceiling. “Who are you?”

“At one time my name was Ottoline, but the Pythonos don’t take kindly to names around here. What’s your name?” Ottoline? Neveah tried to recall where she had heard that name before. Suddenly, her thoughts blurred and her vision went dark.

***

She stood in the doorway, frozen and watched the scene unfold, unable to move, to scream, to cry. She could only watch.

“Please, don’t take Ottoline,” her mother cried, holding the baby to her chest. “She and Neveah are all I have left!”

“As if we care,” the Pythonos gave a harsh laugh as he stepped closer to the chair where her mother clutched baby Ottoline.

“Please…” her mother whispered.

“Pleassse,” the Pythonos mocked her as he snatched the baby. The mother howled as if he had stabbed her. In a way, he had.

“No!” she wailed.

No, thought Neveah.

“Yesss,” the Pythonos smirked. “We’re done here, letsss go.” He and his men walked towards the door where Neveah was standing. “Get out of the way, girl.” he slapped her across the face, knocking her to her knees. Neveah fought to hold her anger back. She hated the Pythonos. She hated them all.

And as she watched the horrible men depart, holding her sister, her blood boiled with anger.

“When I have a daughter,” she vowed, “I will never let them take her. I would rather die.”

***

Neveah woke up in a cold sweat. Her face was wet from tears and perspiration. She longed to throw off her sheets, but each limb was tightly locked in place, so she could only look up at the ceiling and endure the agonizing heat.

She jerked to attention at the all too familiar sound of crying coming from the bed next to her. And then she remembered. Ottoline. A horrible thought crossed her mind. If the Pythonos had taken her sister as a baby, and it had been eleven years, then this could be the Ottoline. Her sister. Locked away all these years with the immense evil surrounding her.

Ottoline was only a child, how could the Pythonos be so cruel? Why, she thought, this is almost worse than killing them off like we all imagined they did. Her blood boiled with hate, and her stomach tightened with anger. She took a deep breath as if to relax herself, and focused on the present.

“Ottoline?” she croaked. “Are you alright?” The crying stopped for a moment, then a sniffle.

“Yeah,” the familiar voice replied.

“No, you’re not,” Neveah said gently. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Ottoline chewed her lip as a tear fell onto her pillow and willed herself to stop crying. You’re eleven years old, much too old to be crying like this. She held her breath and gazed at the ceiling.

“Ottoline?” Neveah repeated. Ottoline couldn’t help noticing how Neveah’s voice was coated with concern, with love. Then something came loose inside Ottoline’s chest and she began to cry intensely again.

“The Traitor…they said….hurt you…” Neveah couldn’t make out the girl’s words between her sobs, but the tone of voice was filled with terror. Ottoline would have kicked herself if she could. What was wrong with her?

“Who is the Traitor?” Neveah asked. Just saying the name made her shiver, considering the way Ottoline said the word.

Ottoline took a breath.

“Have you ever heard of Jordan the Pythonos?” That was a name that Neveah hadn’t heard in years. First she remembered the eerie absence of the doctor, Kratos, not that he would associate with Paynes to begin with, but it was still abnormal. Then she began to hear whispered rumors that he was murdered by Jordan and Selena. And then the Invasion came. She remembered being a little girl, hiding behind her mother as the Pythonos marched in, setting fire to their buildings, their food supply, everything they called home, driving them out of Lir where they had no choice but to live in makeshift huts that became the slums.

There were thousands of the evil men, so many that you could barely see the ground. Neveah shuddered at the memory. The Paynes stood no chance against the Pythonos and their dark magic. They could do nothing but watch as life as they knew it was destroyed. Suddenly, Paynes became things instead of individuals, dirt instead of people. If anyone from the other branches were caught sheltering Paynes, they would be killed or taken away. Either way, they were never seen again.

And Jordan had led the uprising against the Paynes. He knew how weak the Paynes were and how many there were. He promised the people that had plans to somehow make the Paynes great, but as far as Neveah knew, the results had been the opposite. Jordan was virtually insane, a madman, and his plans almost always failed.

“Yes, I’ve heard of him,” Neveah finally said, unsure of where the conversation was going.

“Have you heard about the Conversion Project?” Ottoline seemed so grown up for her age. Because the Pythonos forced her to grow up too fast. Neveah shuddered at the horrors Ottoline must have suffered in this horrible place.

“No,” Neveah said hoarsely as she tried to wrap her mind around those words. They were just words, seemingly harmless words, but anything spoken about this UNIT could not be anything pleasant.

“Ever since the Pythonos took over,” Ottoline began to speak, “the Traitor, Jordan, has always been enamored with the possibility of changing branches. Can you imagine if Paynes could somehow change their identity? If we could become one of the greater Andromedans, if we could be an Pitt, or even an Estrello?” Ottoline paused. She had memorized this speech. Countless times she had told it to her neighbor in the bed next to her, countless times the person would fall silent, processing the words. And then she would have to tell them the worst part of it all. The part that gave her nightmares. The part that would explain everything. Neveah was silent from the bed next to her, waiting.

Oh, how Ottoline wished she would not have to speak these words. “Jordan has always failed, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. He has built this underground complex to carry out his experiments. We are the test subjects. He doesn’t care how sick we get, how much we are in pain, or how insanely bored we get when our only view is the ceiling. Jordan is the Traitor.”

Neveah took a sharp breath.

“When can we leave?” she dreaded the answer. She had a horrible feeling she knew already. And before the words came from her sister’s lips, she knew what they were going to be.

“Never. The only way out is through death itself.”

How could things have changed so much, Neveah wondered. Only days ago, she was with her new daughter with sweet Sef by her side. Now that was all gone.

She was trapped in a living hell.

@whalekeeper

this is where you can see updates to my writing! Any critiques you have would be so helpful!