Pet: Genesis [Publishing]

Chapter 2

3rd Person POV

The sound of trickling water fills the air. It is the only sound being made.

The being sits across from the tub as the servants clean the woman brought in from the ruins. He doesn't look up while they clean her. The process of making her presentable holds little interest for him. The state of his empire holds more importance. Eventually, he raises his purple gaze in curiosity. He stands, placing the screen down on the counter to better gaze upon the woman he discovered attacking his people.

"Fuck you."

The words cling to his memory like a bell setting off the beginning of this challenge. She's either very brave or very stupid. She tried to kill him with a weapon created by humanity. She didn't seem to care about what would result in her life. He can't get the defiant gaze she held out of his mind. 

The servants sense his approach, stopping what they are doing. They each step away silently, their vacant expressions a reminder of the prison they now live in. He briefly glances at the inhibitors placed on their temples as he approaches the bath. He stands over the human's naked form. Her body is still submerged in the water up to her face.

She was filthy when he discovered her. He wrinkles his nose in disgust as he recalls the pungent scent wafting off her from the years of dirt, grime, and blood. The clothing she wore was the very same color as the dirt beneath her feet. But what more could he expect from a human living on the outskirts of the Leviathan civilization, fighting to survive?

It's taken several wash cycles and excessive scrubbing, but her skin has finally begun to peek through the dirt, the awful odor that clung to her skin now all but gone. At this stage, her hair has been trimmed down four inches due to the damage. Now, it barely rests on her shoulders. The water causes the dark tresses to wave slightly; it's a curious thing.

A frown finds its way to his lips as he studies her, now standing over her naked form. She shouldn't be here. She isn't servant material. If anything, he should have placed an inhibitor on her, thus taking away her will to fight. She is strong. Mentally, she is a powerful adversary. And, if there's one thing he enjoys most in the world, it's breaking those who believe themselves to be strong.

His gaze moves from her face taking in the state of her body. Her bones are poking through her thin skin from lack of food. She is dangerously close to emaciation from starvation, making her features harsher than they should be. Calluses cover her hands from fighting to survive, something he saw for himself.

After a few weeks of regular feeding and treatment, he'll have her just how he likes his slaves. Except she won't be a slave in his care. She'll be more like something he keeps around for entertainment. Something he takes care of and expects to obey his every whim because she knows he owns her.

He smiles to himself. Not a slave, but he knows the English term for it.

"Pet."

Iris

Something is tickling my nose. It's soft, almost like the wind. But it feels too cold to be the wind. I scrunch my face, swiping at the tip of my nose before rolling over into the soft material under me. The tickling shifts, dragging across my face to the rim of my ear where it stays. I frown in my sleep as I try and sink deeper into the warm-

My eyes fly open, my brain finally registering the unfamiliar textures that surround me. I swipe at the soft sheets, clasping the material. I'm in bed. A large, circular bed. The material of the bed is so soft, I fear I might sink into the floor.

I look around the room, but nothing seems familiar. The wall I'm facing is dark. I quickly look around, finding that all the walls are dark. All except the ceiling that has a realistic-looking starry night sky. I furrow my brow in confusion when I realize the tickling has reestablished itself on my nose. As it continues, my head finally understands what this is. It's cool air. From an air conditioner.