Free Betrothed Episode One by Odette C. Bell Page A

opened.
    With a
shuddering gasp, I stepped back and saw what was
outside.
    I wasn't
high up in the sky on some kind of tower like the view from my
so-called window had shown.
    Instead
I was underground.
    Way
underground.
    A
basement city stretched out before me.
    It had a massive hollowed ceiling, and many, many levels all
carved out of the rock and braced
with metal.
    The
level I was on was quite high up, and it offered a stunning vantage
as I stared down at the rest of that dark city.
    I'd seen
a lot of things in this universe since waking up, all of them
amazing. But this, this was in another league.
    I felt
like I'd been taken out of reality and put into some kind of a
science fiction novel.
    After
several seconds of standing there and staring, I walked forward. It
was the compulsion, the compulsion telling me to run.
    My heartbeat increased three fold, my arms and hands actually
shaking from it, and I pushed myself out of the door.
    There
was a metal gangway beyond it, one that looped around and connected
to other gangways and bridges that formed an interconnected pathway
through this underground maze.
    Though
there were lights, nothing seemed to push the gloom back. Because
it was more of a feeling. This oppressive sense you got when you
were underground, and no amount of artificial lighting would change
that.
    As I ran
along the gangway, my bare feet struck the metal, the indents and
grooves transferring onto my soft flesh.
    The
tunic I was in was overly large and bunched around me as I sprinted
forward, my loose hair trailing over one shoulder as I turned
sharply to check on the doorway.
    No one
streamed out to run after me.
    They
clearly didn't know I'd escaped.
    But had
I escaped? Sure, I wasn’t in that building anymore, but I was still
underground.
    I had no
idea where I was, but I realized it was probably the basement level
Mark had tried to lead me to a week ago.
    I jerked
my head around and concentrated on running.
    Soon
enough I could see people. They were walking along the gangways,
entering doorways and buildings, their expressions locked with
concentration.
    As soon
as I saw them, I slowed down. I tried to look like I belonged
here.
    Which
was hard.
    I
clearly didn't fit in. A small human woman in a large white
hospital tunic with crumpled hair and terrified
expression.
    Fortunately everyone I passed was too busy with their own
business to pay me much attention.
    I
hunched my shoulders in, locked my hands on my arms, tucked my head
down, and tried to hide behind my hair.
    And I
hurried.
    Somehow I knew which direction to head. Though the pain
behind my left eye was subsiding, it wasn’t gone completely, and
neither was my vision.
    It stayed with me, guiding me until finally I reached an
enormous set of stairs. Beyond them I could see the flickering glow
of sunshine.
    I
couldn’t control myself. I threw myself at the stairs, my bare feet
padding against them.
    Everyone
I passed jerked their heads around to stare at me, but I didn’t
care anymore.
    I was
almost free.
    I was
almost free.
    Though
the stairs were long, I ran all the way up until finally I reached
the surface.
    I
recognized the planet, recognized the architecture of the distinct
skyline, but I didn’t recognize where I was.
    These
weren't the stairs Mark had tried to lead me down a week
ago.
    I was
somewhere else in the city.
    Somewhere that looked, frankly, dangerous.
    Though
the sun was high, with one look at it I realized soon it would be
dusk.
    Considering dusk lasted for all of two minutes, after that,
it would rapidly become night.
    I drove
my teeth hard into my bottom lip and tried to think.
    Now my vision was no longer pushing me forward, my fear could
return. And it returned in spades. It felt like someone had stabbed
me with an adrenaline filled syringe, and my limbs started to
shake, a slick of sweat covering my top lip and running across my
shoulders.
    People
were staring at me.
    And the
stares weren't kind. They were enquiring,