"Thirteenth Hour" by Emma-Jane C. Smith

Thirteen lights twinkled in the distance. Carra could see their changing colours through the creteglass walling the huge walkway that joined Parah to Sertai. The latter was her own small planet jumper and the former, the space station she was docked with.

Suddenly, she yawned, feeling the familiar urge rise up through her throat. She did nothing to hinder its progress. It was useless to try to resist. The yawn that had been caused by an overindulgence of an awake state. She had been up 84 hours and the stimulants she had taken were starting to wear off.

“Hey! Carra!” came a yell.

“What do you want Durm?” she asked, not turning around.

“You’re going to have to stay here for another few days,” Durm explained. “The Sertai’s carbonsynth is shot. I’ve already ordered a new one but they only have the right model on Irisa 13.”

He came and stood next to her. She looked him over covertly, using her peripheral vision. Durm had the same tanned skin and dark curly hair that she remembered. He even wore the same smatter of grease smudges over his overalls. He smelt good though, she thought, like petrol fuel from Aldos. It was a smell she remembered well from her childhood. Carra sighed.

“Well at least I can stock up on supplies while I’m here,” she said as she turned to look him in the face. She could still see the feelings he had for her in his dark brown eyes. They truly did seem to be window into his heart. Or was it his soul? She wondered. She didn’t really care.

“I’ll be staying at Grenk’s, as usual,” she said, and sauntered to the end of the walkway into the main hub of civilisation.

Aliens and humans alike hurried about, meeting others or simply out to buy something from the multitude of stores that lined the main thoroughfare. Carra walked for a few minutes until she found the place she was looking for. The shop called ‘The Human Bite’. It was a restaurant that served human food, a rare oddity in such a place as this. Aliens had long since overrun the station because of its prime location in the galaxy.

“Hey Flont! Where’s Bub?” she asked the woman behind the counter.

At hearing Carra, the woman’s eyes lit up. Flont hurried over to greet her favourite out-of-station friend.

“Hey Carra-ling!” Flont said, using the nickname Bub had given her many years ago. “What are you doing here?”

“Came for repairs, looks like I’m going to be here a while until I can get some parts for Sertai.” Carra explained.

She accepted the usual warm hug from the middle aged Asian woman, knowing she would not get any farther if she didn’t.

“Bub’s in the kitchen. He’s training up some new staff,” Flont told her finally.

“Thanks,” Carra responded gratefully and then made her way to the kitchen through the door behind the counter.

Carra breathed deeply as the scents, sounds and sights of every Earth delicacy imaginable, flooded over her in a wonderful, overwhelming tide. She missed this. Dozens of Earth accents and languages welcomely assaulted her ears as if it were music. The smells of as many ethnic quizines tantalized her finely tuned nostrils, tempting her tastebuds. Her mouth watered. Heaven, surely, would be like this.

“Bub!” Carra yelled, seeing her baby brother demonstrating how to cut a hybrid onion yam.

“Carra-ling!” he responded with enthusiasm. He wiped his hands on his apron before coming over and encircling her in an eager hug. “I missed you, Sis.”

“I know Jace. I’ve just been busy that’s all. I’ve missed you, too, and even this place.”

“So, can I take it that everything has been organised now that you’re back?” Jace asked pointedly, his eyebrow raised.

“No. But the heat’s off for a while,” she responded.

“Well let’s hope everyone who knows you on this station isn’t having financial problems. I wouldn’t want them sending a call to the goon squad, or Him,” he told her in a hushed voice.

Jace guided her to the small room that served as the restaurant’s office. Equipment and boxes cluttered the room.

“You know that they are too loyal for that,” she reassuring him.

“Well just be careful and keep a low profile.”

“Don’t worry about me Bub, I know how to take care of myself.”

A few minutes later Carra was making her way to see an old friend. When she finally made it to Grenk’s she walked straight to the counter and gave the receptionist the finger. He gave her a toothy grin.

“Carra!” he exclaimed, jumping up onto the counter to give her a hug.

Grenk was a short, podgy, orange alien who was covered in regenerating feelers, all of which were constantly in a state of motion. It looked to Carra that he was constantly dancing to some unheard music and tended to make her feel seasick. Grenk’s other defining and decidedly odd feature were his hind legs. They were made for powerful jumping. Carra was sure that if he wanted to he could jump ten times his petite height. Handy if you needed to change a light bulb.

“Hello Grenk! Is it alright if I have my usual room?” she asked. Grenk’s business was an upmarket hotel, suitable for most alien species, including humans.

“I would but, Carra, someone has broken into it. They left it in such a terrible state that I won’t be able to get it clean for a few days. I think it might also be bugged. Are the Altari’s giving you trouble again?”

“I’m not sure…When did all this happen?” Carra asked, a chill running down her spine.

“Not two days ago.”

“Well then I’ll take another room.”

“Sure. I’ll give you room thirteen if that’s alright, I’m pretty well fully booked now.”

“That’s fine.” Carra told him as she gave him a smile.

Grenk handed her a swipe card and she made her way to the lift. Shivers of worry raced up and down her spine at the information, but she refused to let her anxiety show. How could He have known which room I stay in? She wondered. It was too close for comfort but she was unable to do anything about it since her ship still needed parts.

As Carra left the lift she felt an itch between her shoulder blades, it was the same feeling she always got when she knew someone was watching her. Carra hurriedly swiped her room card and entered, locking the door behind her.

She cursed, knowing that He must have finally found out where she was. She prayed silently that He didn’t know she had a brother. The tossing and bugging of her usual hotel suite was proof enough that he was dangerous. She was glad she had not left anything behind.

For the first time Carra looked around the room. It had a large spa in the centre and the lighting was a dim green glow. Strange plants littered the suite and she realised it must have been a room designed for a different species. She shrugged; trying to shake off the ill feelings she was experiencing.

I’ll set up here, she thought, and then after it’s bugged I’ll slip out the back and find different accommodation. I don’t want anyone sneaking up behind me…and I definitely don’t need trouble.

Promising herself not to ponder on Him, Carra took out a zippered pouch from one of the pockets in her overalls. Inside she found seven pinprick sized cameras, three listening devices and three small stun grenades. She placed them strategically around the dimly lit room.

One night will be all right. She told herself as she yawned involuntarily. Then she’d do whatever it took to get off the station, even if she had to leave Sertai behind.

Desmon entered the room silently. He had already disabled all the devices Carra had set up to stop intruders. He found her sleeping deeply as she lay on a large bed, her body curled into the foetal position. Unconsciously she murmured something, having been taken away to another world by a dream. He smiled. This was going to be easier than he had first thought.

The blue and green lights from the fish tank gave the room an underwater feel. And the colours danced gracefully over Carra’s beautifully smooth skin. She looked so lovely in the muted light.

Desmon walked closer, taking in her tussled brown hair with his dark eyes. He let them wander idly from her hair, cropped close to her scalp, to the long dark eyelashes that hid black irises and then onto the rest of her.

He noted that she wore the same overalls she always seemed to wear, as she liked clothes that downplayed her beauty. But no matter what Carra wore, she couldn’t hide her obvious attractiveness. Desmon leaned forward, hovering over her body. He held out a tentative hand, but withdrew it to watch her deep and rhythmic breaths and savour her machine-grease scent.

Suddenly, Carra woke. In a flash she kicked Desmon in the chest, sending him across the room and had her Lector IV Bolsor gun pointed at his chest. She recognised him and her dark eyes went wide. Carra paled visibly.

“How did you-…” she asked, her voice trailing off. She shook her head to clear the remnants of the dream, and cursed herself for falling asleep in the room she had tried to make a decoy.

“I missed you, Carra.” Desmon told her.

He came and sat on the end of the large canopied bed. If he was hurt, he didn’t let her know which made her all the more uncomfortable.

Carra stood, taking a few steps backwards, unfortunately her back thudded against the wall that stopped any further retreat. Carra kept her eyes on him. She was wary of this man, having done business with him in the past. Carra shivered.

It was about a year ago that she had been introduced to Desmon, believing him to be just another merchant. She had been so wrong. Her first task had been to transport cargo to Orinious, one of Dartar’s moons. While in transit, the cargo had gotten loose, causing havoc and mayhem all over her ship, Sertai which meant Fighting Free.

Carra remembered the dark-winged creatures that clawed their way through her ship, pulling out this and that, rewiring it to make something even she could not identify. Then they had taken control of the space jumper and sent it into Altari space… a race of warrior aliens who were very protective of their resources. The creatures stole six kilotonnes of minimalized Carson VF20, a precious metal that could be contracted down to a fraction of its actual weight and size.

Carra had finally been able to defeat them by using stun beams which she had customized from one of her power transformer cables. With a victorious grin she had put them back in their containers… more securely than they had been before. But the mess they had made for her had proved difficult to fix. The Altari had come after her… even after she had jettisoned the Carson VF20. It had taken practically a year to make peace with them and have them withdraw from the chase. They still however, had not retracted the bounty on her head.

When Carra had gotten back to Station Ziron, after dropping off Desmon’s cargo, she confronted him. It had been then that he had shown his dark side.

He started wooing her, seducing her in a charming fashion that she didn’t fall for and offering other business propositions. She had tried many times to leave Station Ziron to get away from him but he always seemed to be out maneuvering her attempts, almost as if he knew her moves before she did. In the end, he sabotaged Sertai to keep her there, which had taken forever to fix.

It had been on the thirteenth day of her stay that the first corpse had shown up. It was Heres, a contact of hers. At first the murder stirred nothing, no one seemed particularly alarmed, as it wasn’t all that uncommon for deals gone sour to end in death. It wasn’t until the appearance of the third corpse that people began to worry. Overnight everybody who had a ship or could bargain for passage abandoned the station. Many believed it had been cursed though none knew by whom or what. Others thought a simple serial killer was on the loose which was enough incentive to high tail it to the nearest habitable planet or space station.

Nothing tied Desmon to the murders, but his mannerisms and strange character had led her to suspect him. He seemed unfazed by the murders, seeming to predict when the next would happen. All in all there were thirteen deaths, each more grisly than the last. Then, on the fourteenth day Carra had managed to slip away. She had never been so glad to leave a place.

Ever since that day, Desmon had stalked her, hunted her down to talk polite pleasantries and try to entice her to come with him. All Carra ever wanted to do was punch him in the face. She had felt trapped, and that was something that tended to put her in a desperately bad mood. She had considered going to the Enforcers but knew they were more likely to put her in jail after the fiasco with the Carson VF20.

She finally managed to keep below Desmon’s radar… or so she thought. Believing it was safe she had returned to Parah, the station where her brother lived. Carra had missed her brother and friends but now she was terrified of Desmon finding out about Jace.

“Get out.” Carra demanded, keeping her gun trained on him.

He smiled at her, ignoring her demands.

Secretively Carra pressed her alarm button, located inside the button on her sleeve. She prayed Durm would pick up the signal while he worked on Sertai, knowing it was only a small and tenuous thread of hope.

“Curse you, Desmon.” Carra spat, knowing she would never make it to an exit.

Desmon smiled back, flashing her the set of white teeth she had come to dread. Her finger pulled the trigger. Click. Nothing happened. She tried it again. Click. Click. Click.

“Damn this piece of Altari sputum!” she screamed, flinging it away and pulled up her fists.

She planned to go down fighting.

Desmon sat there and smugly pulled out a tiny black chip. It was her Lector IV Bolsor gun’s power cell.

“Well, damn you too, Desmon!” she told him angrily, glaring daggers at him.

Carra leaped forward, using her weight and momentum to push him back, and hopefully off the bed. She succeeded only in throwing herself on top of him. Carra tried to scramble away but Desmon grabbed her wrist and twisted it painfully.

She bit back a yell and lashed out with her feet, catching him in the chest. She managed to wind him enough so she was able to get herself off the bed. Carra ran for the door but tripped over something in the dim light, which sent her sprawling.

“Damn it!” she cursed and tried to regain her feet.

Whatever had tripped her was not going to give her foot back. Carra looked down to see a BDalpha, a foot trap specifically designed not to harm the captive. She knew instantly that Desmon had planted it to prevent her escape. She looked more closely at the floor and saw many more strewn about.

Vainly Carra struggled against the mechanical grip. She heard a noise and turned the best she could. Desmon stood behind her, gloating over his victory. Carra gathered the saliva in her mouth and spat him in the face. Seeing him recoil in shock sent a flood of warmth through her body.

Desmon’s eyes turned to thunder, as he drew his eyebrows down. Oh no. She thought. Now I’ve got him angry.

Before she could do anything else, Desmon quickly pulled his open palm up to his mouth and blew across it. Instantly Carra felt woozy. He’s drugged me! Her mind managed to scream before she succumbed to it. I’m going to kill that BASTARD when I wake!

Unable to fight off its potent affects, Carra fell to the floor in a heap. Desmon’s face turned into a feral, hungry grin as he disengaged the traps and picked her up. As he carried her from the room he pressed a button on his palm computer. Instantly a small device began to beep. Five seconds later the room exploded, leaving no trace behind that they had ever been there.

When Carra woke she found herself goo-ed into a chair. A transparent green sludge covered her from neck to foot and served as a restraint. She could only move her head, which was pounding. Carra blinked to clear her eyes.

When the rest of the room came into focus she saw Desmon standing in front of her. He was clothed in pure black from chin to feet. He looked like the Devil incarnate, someone no one would stand a chance against. In his hand he held a sacrificial knife. A cold shiver went down her spine. What is this demon planning? She asked herself as dread took up residence in the pit of her stomach.

Carra gazed around the rest of the room. It was a standard dull grey metal room of a Ratar Class skimmer, a ship that was as huge as it was dominating… and armed to the teeth. It was then she realised that she was no longer on the space station. Damn. She thought. I could be anywhere in the universe!

Carra cast her eyes about frantically, there had to be something to give her a clue to their location! She couldn’t see anything else in the room, not even computer panels. Movement brought her eyes back to her captor. Carra watched as Desmon walked to the only door.

“Where am I?” she asked, “What’s happening?”

Desmon didn’t turn or respond. He waved his hand over the door’s release. It opened immediately to reveal something she had not expected, something that sent fear into her very soul. It was Jace.

“Bub! What’s happening?” Carra asked, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the others could hear.

“Carra! I don’t know… How did I get here?” he asked, his eyes darting around fugitively.

Carra noticed that, as he walked into the room, he limped badly and was sporting many cuts and bruises, the worst of which were to his legs. Jace stopped, looking dazed.

“Where am I?” he asked, continuing to look around.

For the first time Jace seemed to see Desmon. Immediately he began to tremble, his face going white.

“No…. Not you!” her brother backed away from Desmon, hands out in front of him, beseechingly.

Jace tripped as he tried to get away, landing on his backside.

“No. Please.” Jace pleaded and Desmon moved closer, knife in hand.

Jace scrambled back, keeping his eye on Desmon’s weapon, fear and panic evident on his face.

“Desmon, stop!” Carra yelled, trying to distract him. “He’s got nothing to do with you and me! Let him go! Pleeease!!”

Desmon paid her no heed, walking purposefully towards her brother, knife glinting as he clutched it in a white knuckled fist. His eyes were eager and hungry. They were that of a true madman.
<br>Desmon lunged forward and grappled for a moment with Jace who tried to squirm away from him. Her brother’s gasps for breath became faster as he began to hyperventilate. Finally Desmon managed to grab a handful of Jace’s hair. He wrenched it up painfully. <br><p> <br>“He will be the thirteenth to die today.” Desmon announced and sliced Jace’s neck open. <br><p> <br>Time seemed to move slowly for Carra as she watched. Numbing shock washed over her body, and her mind tried to deny what it had just seen. The reality of it was too terrifying, too monstrous to accept. <br><p> <br>“Noooo!” she wailed, her face crumbling into tears. <br><p> <br>Her chest hurt with the agony and grief of Jace’s horrific death. <br><p> <br>Desmon released the corpse and stood back. Carra looked up at Jace’s murderer. Desmon stood there panting with excitement, eyes wide as he looked down at his handiwork. <br><p> <br>Carra retched, sending vomit over her green goo cocoon. The sight before her sent her almost into a faint. She wished she was dead, anywhere but here with this murderer. Desmon’s face and clothes were saturated in blood. It was as if he were wearing a crimson mask, the crimson mask of death. <br><p> <br>“How-…. How could you?” she asked. Carra looked up through her tear-filled eyes. <br><p> <br>“Thirteen had to die tonight so that we could be together.” Desmon replied. “He is lucky to have been a part of such a worthy and holy ceremony.” <br><p> <br>Carra turned her eyes away from the sadistic madman before her. How could such an insane monster exist? <br><p> <br>“You were born on a day that only happens once a century. You were born on Friday the 13th on the 13th month and on the thirteenth hour on a planet that was the thirteenth from the sun. As such you belong to me. My name is Desmon Dorf’lo, Lord of Demons. All that is thirteen lies within my domain.” <br><p> <br>Carra shook her head in amazement. She couldn’t figure out if he was delusional or really was the devil himself. She didn’t know which one was worse. <br><p> <br>“You are special, very special,” he told her walking closer and dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter, “I found you on your thirteenth birthday and have been watching you ever since. Now that you are 26 years old - thirteen plus thirteen - you will become my wife.” <br><p> <br>“I will never marry you.” Carra whispered, forcing herself to look back at him. <br><p> <br>She saw the insatiable hunger that filled his eyes, but this time she knew it wasn’t for causing death. <i>My God</i>. She thought. <i>He really believes he loves me</i>. <br><p> <br><center> <br>*        *        *        *        * <br></center> <br><p> <br>Desmon returned to her after what seemed to be hours, washed and clothed now in more ornate black garb. Carra felt sick as soon as she saw his face. Memories of her brother’s death still haunted her; they had replayed over and over again in her mind, driving her ever closer towards insanity. No matter what Carra did, she could not block the thoughts out; they were branded into her very soul. <br><p> <br>Desmon began to speak as if he were talking to a room full of his avid followers. <br><p> <br>“In every race, in every time of existence, people have believed that I exist. I am the Curse upon every creature whether it be living or dead, I am the ruler of the Underworld, the Lord of Demons, the Bringer of Darkness. The <i>Devil</i> himself!” <br><p> <br>He began to pace the room, engrossed in his insane ranting. <br><p> <br>“I will rule the universe as I was destined, I will change the many worlds to exist as they should, in fear of me. I am the Almighty! I am Unjust, I am the Chaos riddled throughout the universe, I am <i>Death</i> incarnate! I haunt the night and dark places, bringing the world into my creation.” <br><p> <br>Desmon paused, and looked down at Carra’s quietly weeping form. <br><p> <br>“And you are soon to be my wife…” he whispered. <br><p> <br>Carra looked away from him, not trusting herself to speak. She knew no one was coming to rescue her, no one even knew where she was. There was no hope. A small voice inside of her whispered hideously that it was all her fault, everything, even her brother’s death. <br><p> <br>It had been <i>she</i> who had come back to the <i>Parah</i> station; it had been <i>she</i> who had fallen asleep in the room where she knew he could find her. It had been <i>she</i> who had allowed herself to be caught, <i>she</i> who had put her brother in harm’s way. It was all her fault. She deserved to die. She deserved what she got. <br><p> <br>Desmon walked over to her and lifted her chin so she had to look at him. Carra tried to pull away but he held her firmly, his fingers biting into her skin. <br><p> <br>“You are such a beautiful dark creature…” he muttered, almost to himself, “It is fitting that you will be the Devil’s wife…” <br><p> <br>Desmon let her chin go and caressed her cheek. Anger filled Carra, threatening to explode. A clock somewhere in the distance chimed twelve times. A shiver of fear ran down her spine as he whispered something almost too quietly to hear as he looked off into the distance. <br><p> <br>“Only an hour to go, my precious.” <br><p> <br>She saw in his eyes something so dark and truly evil that she felt infected by it. It was as if being in the same room as him was tainting her soul. In an hour she would find what awaited her in this life. An hour before the Devil would be satisfied and he would shed his tainted light on her destiny. <br><p> <br><center> <br>*        *        *        *        * <br></center> <br><p> <br>Carra lay stretched out on a large square table. She felt its slender metal grooves through the light fabric of her clothes. She squirmed, trying to unshackle her wrists and ankles from the plascord. It was too tight and too strong to break. <br><p> <br>The room was something out of an ancient earth horror movie. Thick candles exuding grey light stood about the room, the only dull illumination. Her nose was intoxicated with the harsh smells of burning incense and the room was furnished with varnished wooden furniture, much of which was covered in lush, black drapes. Everything radiated fanaticism and evil intent. <br><p> <br>She cursed him in her mind again, having been drugged for a second time. Carra tried not to vomit as she thought about his hands on her. She was no longer wearing her overalls, instead she was wearing a black dress made of light fabric and adorned with what she believed were black sapphires. Carra shuddered with abhorrence. <br><p> <br>Her mind, unbidden, created a vision in her mind. It was of his hands caressing her skin, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his soft breath on his face. His dark eyes so black there was nothing but evil inside. She shook her head violently, in an effort to dislodge the wild and terrifying scenario. <br> <p> <br>Carra looked up at hearing the door swish open. Desmon entered, a clock in one hand, a dagger in the other. Her eyes never left the knife; it was the same one that had killed Jace. Revulsion filled her, and she pressed her eyes closed tightly to fight the rising nausea. <br><p> <br>Desmon placed the clock on the metal table above her head; she could hear it ticking rhythmically, its sound cold and unforgiving as it measured the passing minutes. It did not even know it existed, nor did it feel the affects of time even as it counted it. <br><p> <br>The clock’s alarm chimed once, reading thirteen minutes to the thirteenth hour. Desmon stepped forward, dagger in hand. Carra flinched as he lightly cut her skin below her right eye. It was not deep but it stung. He then began to chant, softly at first, but louder as the incantation progressed. <br><p> <br>“Stop this, Desmon!” Carra demanded, trying to force courage into her voice. “You have to stop this now!” <br><p> <br>Carra shifted around, trying to squirm out of the table’s grasp, but Desmon ignored her, continuing his chanting. She knew then it was futile, he would do what he wanted to her and no one could stop him. She was without hope and at the mercy of a man obsessed with the number thirteen. <br><p> <br><center> <br>*        *        *        *        * <br></center> <br><p> <br>Carra retreated into her own mind, trying to forget everything except the sounds of her own breathing. Somehow he was weaving a cruel power through his voice that was infiltrating her body. She tried to move the pain into the back of her mind but it continued to interrupt her solace. Then Carra heard a muted sound. At first, she could not identify it, then realising what it was, her eyes shot open. <br><p> <br>Someone had opened the door. It was Durm! Carra could not stop the tears of relief from spilling down her cheeks. Desmon looked at her, startled by the sudden change. He did not even realise someone else was in the room. <br><p> <br>Durm stepped forward, inching his way closer to Desmon. His eyes turned to grim determination after glancing at Carra’s vulnerable form on the metal table. She could see his fury building with each step. <br><p> <br>Desmon’s head shot up, he knew something was wrong. Desmon turned; he had but a moment to shout an exclamation before Durm’s Probel 89 Fitter gun fired. Desmon’s face turned ashen as he stood there, liquid fire having burnt a hole in his chest. Then his legs gave way, and his body dropped heavily to the floor. <br><p> <br>“Durm!” Carra yelled out to her saviour. “Quick, get me loose.” <br><p> <br>Durm kept the gun trained on Desmon, who lay crumpled on the floor, as he made his way over to her. He paled when he saw her closely. Carra knew she looked terrible, her face and arms, cut and smeared with blood. He inactivated the plascord and helped her from the table. <br><p> <br>“How-... How did you find me?” she asked, fighting back tears. <br><p> <br>“Your alarm on <i>Sertai</i>. It took me a while to figure out what it was. Then I went to find Jace but he was gone. I knew something terrible had happened when I found Flont dead in the kitchen. I finished repairing <i>Sertai</i>, using borrowed parts, and tracked you here. Sorry it took me so long to find you; this ship is huge.” <br><p> <br>Durm covered her with his jacket, and began to lead her from the room. He consoled her, his voice full of a special tenderness only he possessed. It was a sweet sound to Carra’s ears. Then he quietly asked her the question she had been dreading. <br><p> <br>“Where’s Jace?” he asked. <br><p> <br>“He’s dead.” she muttered, no tears came this time. <br><p> <br>Suddenly, Carra was wrenched back by her arm. She stumbled, but managed to break the grasp of whatever it was behind her. It was Desmon! <br><p> <br>She stared at him, dumbfounded; there wasn’t even a mark on his midnight black clothes. Durm stood there in a moment of confusion before he threw himself at Desmon, using his full force. They hit the ground with a shocking thud. <br><p> <br>Carra watched, her eyes wide with disbelief as they tussled on the ground. Then Durm punched Desmon in the face, smearing his face with blood. Desmon grinned showing he had lost a tooth then he kicked Durm in the stomach, pushing his well-muscled body away. Winded from hitting the floor, Desmon rolled using the time to regain his feet. <br><p> <br>The men circled each other in a standoff, waiting for the other to make the first move. Durm’s face was dark with fury, Desmon’s grinned insanely as if invigorated by the violence. <br><p> <br>Carra scanned the room for a weapon. She caught sight of the knife, knowing she probably wouldn’t get to it in time. As she rushed towards it, Carra saw Desmon lunge for something that lay on the ground. For a moment Carra couldn’t tell what it was. When she did, she gasped. It was Durm’s gun. <br><p> <br>Desmon moved towards Durm who held his hands submissively in the air. Desmon’s bloodied grin was victorious. <br><p> <br>“Get back on the slab!” Desmon ordered Carra, “I’ll kill him if you don’t!” <br><p> <br>Desmon moved closer to Durm and held the Probel 89 Fitter gun to Durm’s temple, pushing it in to highlight his point. Carra looked at Durm’s face, his eyes were filled with fear… just like Jace’s had been. The image of her brother’s death was a painful memory which tormented her. Carra had watched her own brother die a horrible, tortured death. She couldn’t stand the thought of watching another death, another one that she could have prevented. <br> <p> <br>“No! Damn it!” Carra yelled through her tears of anguish and frustration. She had almost been free… almost. <br><p> <br>“Do it Carra!” Desmon warned. <br><p> <br>Reluctantly, she walked backwards to the table and sat down. She ran a hand over her eyes to wipe away the tears. Then she paused. <br><p> <br>“But you can’t kill him, Desmon….” Carra told him, realising something for the first time. “If you kill him he’ll be the fourteenth. It will make everything go wrong, including the ceremony.” <br><p> <br>Carra watched as Desmon’s weapon lowered slightly, thinking about what she had said. She could see the lust he had for her, clearly in his eyes. He wouldn’t jeopardise the ceremony; he needed to have her. <br><p> <br>Desmon’s eyes returned to Durm for a second, and Carra took her chance. She lunged forward, her arms held out before her, ready to grab or dislodge Desmon’s gun. She was a second too late and the weapon fired. <br><p> <br>“No!” Durm screamed, seeing Carra fall back, convulsing. <br><p> <br>She had misjudged the speed of Desmon’s reflexes. The bolt fired, caught her. Durm lunged at Desmon and managed to wrestle him to the ground. His heart was pounding as adrenaline rushed through his body. <br><p> <br>“Die, damn you!” he spat at Desmon. <br><p> <br>He managed to flick the gun out of his hand. It slid across the floor until friction stopped its momentum. He punched Desmon in the face which sent him reeling and continued to pummel him in the chest. He felt ribs crack beneath his fury fuelled fists. There was no end to his rage. The woman he loved had been shot. <br><p> <br>It was all Desmon could do to fend off Durm’s assault, but finally it stopped of its own accord. Desmon tried to crawl away but Durm grabbed him. <br><p> <br>“You won’t get away that easily.” Durm muttered. <br><p> <br>Durm leant down and locked Desmon’s head into the crook of his arm. Desmon gasped for breath, as his windpipe was squeezed so tightly he thought his head would explode. Desmon searched the floor around him and in a few moments he managed to grip the hilt of the dagger. He stabbed it downwards into Durm’s knee and he escaped the deadly grip. Desmon coughed painfully as he crawled away, beaten. <br><p> <br>Durm pulled the knife from his leg, his face twisted for a moment with pain. It was then that Desmon took his chance. He pushed Durm’s body into the wall with seemingly inhuman strength, and grabbed a handful of dark curly hair. Desmon forced Durm’s head back with a jolt so it smacked into the wall. He did it again and again until Durm’s eyes rolled up into his head. <br><p> <br>Desmon stood back and let the unconscious Durm’s body drop to the floor. He had other things to worry about. His eyes gleamed as he turned them towards Carra. He walked slowly over to her and gazed down at her. The bolt had pierced her neck. She laid there, small convulsions still racking her body, blood staining the neckline of the ceremonial black dress. <br><p> <br>She tried to speak and push Desmon away as he leant over her, but her voice was nothing more than a gurgle and her arms weak. He pressed his bloodied lips to her equally bloodstained lips. He savoured the tingle he felt as their crimson blood fused. <br><p> <br>Durm woke, his head pounding like he had been shot. He staggered up onto his knees and glanced about. He saw Desmon, then he caught sight of a weapon. Durm launched himself at it, adrenaline pumping greedily through his veins. As soon as hand seized the Probel 89 Fitter gun’s grip, he sent a spray of bolts in Desmon’s direction. The murderer crumpled to the ground, hitting his head on the side of the table with a sickening crunch. <br><p> <br>Durm stood, and staggered over to Carra. Her convulsions had stopped for which he was very grateful. But both her hands were at her neck as she tried to apply enough pressure to staunch the flow of blood. She looked ready to pass out. Durm took out a small tube of foam from his back pocket and applied plastcreme to her wounds. It held her skin tightly and stopped the bleeding immediately. <br><p> <br>“Come, I’ll get you to the <i>Sertai</i> and the medipod.” Durm told her, once again guiding her out. <br><p> <br>As they limped wearily passed the corpse Carra let her gaze fall upon it. Her mouth twisted in disgust as she looked into Desmon’s glazed eyes. <i>Death suits you so well</i>. She thought to herself. She spat on him and then brought her foot down hard to connect with the dead body’s delicate parts. She smiled. Vengeance felt good. <br><p> <br>“And that’s for my brother, you bastard…” she muttered, her voice raw from its mistreatment. <br><p> <br>She knew nothing could bring back her brother, but she could see his murderer dead and sent back to the hell he came from. <br><p> <br>“Who was he?” Durm asked. <br><p> <br>“Just some insane murderer who wanted to make me his wife.” she explained, hoping dearly that what she said was the truth. <br><p> <br>If not she would know soon enough. If he was the Devil, he would be immortal, he would be free to take his revenge on her. She didn’t believe for a second that she would survive a second meeting. <br><p> <br>Carra knocked over a group of candles onto a bolt of black cloth; the flame flared and began to devour the room. It was like a hungry beast, consuming everything in its path. Carra wished it would burn quickly, vainly hoping that it would help burn away her memories. <br><p> <br>Carra sighed, she couldn’t wait to see her <i>Sertai</i>. It was her heaven now, her solace from the pain. It would take her far away from here, to the stars beyond. Then perhaps she would be able to forget… <br><p> <br>They both stumbled out as the clock chimed. Its hands stood frozen on the thirteenth hour. <br><p> <br><center> <br>*        *        *        *        * <br></center> <br><p> <br>Carra woke, sweat slicking her face. She reached up and touched her face just below her right eye. Carra felt the still tender and partially healed skin. <br><p> <br>“No, damn it…” she muttered, and pulled the covers aside so she could stand. <br><p> <br>“It was all a bad dream,” she told herself, almost trying to convince herself. <br><p> <br>There was a murmur from the bed. Carra looked back. Someone had been sleeping next to her. A chill of anxiousness ran through her body as she stepped towards the bed. The heavy covers hid its occupant. <br><p> <br>“Durm?” she whispered hopefully. <br><p> <br>Her hand inched towards the covers. Carra held her breath, her body tense with fright. All of a sudden the bed covers were pulled back to reveal a face. <br><p> <br>“Durm!” she screamed, backing away. <br><p> <br>His face grinned back at her. His eyes were wild and his mouth foaming. The clock on the wall chimed thirteen. A memory rose to the surface. It was time for the medication round…. She crawled her way into the corner of the white padded room, her face stricken with panic. <br><p> <br>Carra looked up as the cell door opened. It was Desmon; he was wearing a white uniform and held a syringe in his hand. The number on his uniform was thick and black. Thirteen. <br><p> <br>“Time for your shot, Doctor,” Desmon said to her, “We can’t have you and Doctor Mendleson interrupting my plans and those of my fellow inmates.” <br><p> <br>Carra’s scream of terror echoed down the stark white halls of the institution. <br><p> <br>