Between Two Worlds
The Dini

Last night, I didn’t sleep well, despite being exhausted from the day’s events. I kept picturing Janice; her freaky eyes, the throwing-up of blood, and her dead arm hanging off the side of her bed. And every couple of hours the Ghemin would come in, shine their small lights in our faces, check on us, and carry a new body out. I don’t think exhaustion even begins to describe how I am feeling. I roll over, trying to get a few minutes of rest, and then hear a voice calling my name.

“Rayanna. Are you awake?”

“I am, now,” I grumble. I open my eyes and see dim light pouring in through a dusty window, high above my head. A bed squeaks and I turn to find Carina sitting on her bed, feet dangling over the side. Of course, it’s Carina. She seems like a nice person but a bit too needy.

“Good, because I’m freaking out.” Carina states.

“About what?” I ask, sighing. Is this how Wolfe used to feel about me? That I was too needy? Now there’s a thought. But at least he’s finally free of having to care for me.

“Besides the obvious? It’s empty.” Carina states.

“Huh?” I ask, yawning and stretching. “What’s empty?”

“The room. It’s empty. There is no one here but us.”

I sit up quickly, which brings a sharp pain to my abdomen. I wince, gently place my hand on my incision, and then quickly glance around the room. She’s right. There were eight of us in here last night, and now there’s just me and Carina."

"That's roughly a seventy-five percent death rate, or if you want to put a positive spin on it, a twenty-five percent survival rate," I mutter to myself, trying to make sense of the chaos that has become our daily existence. I didn't expect to live, yet here I am, but the haunting odds play tricks on my mind.

What horrors will today bring? Will I survive today? Or will I die as everyone else did? The questions echo in my head as my heart races with the terror of uncertainty. The grim possibility that my life could be snuffed out at any moment is a weighty thought that never quite leaves me.

Carina's voice breaks through my grim calculations. "How in the world can you do math at a time like this? The stress, the freakiness, I can’t even begin to think like that."

I glance at her, finding a strange solace in her bewildered expression. "That’s how I keep calm. If I didn’t think about a problem I could solve, I would be freaking out," I explain, though I'm not sure if I'm trying to convince her or myself.

"Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense," she concedes, her gaze drifting away as she contemplates our bleak reality. "What do you think today will bring? What do you think will happen?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Before we can ponder further on the day's cruel offerings, our fate swiftly presents itself. The Ghemin soldiers arrive; only two this time. One positions himself as a silent sentinel by the door while the other approaches us with deliberate steps, an unknown object cradled in his arms.

Put this on," commands the soldier, halting at the bed's end and unloading the garments. He strides towards Carina, placing similar attire on her bed, then walks away, pausing at the doorway. "I'll return soon. Be prepared and dressed for departure," he dictates, and with that, he and his companion exit, leaving us in solitude.

Rising cautiously, I remove my hand from my wound and examine the provided clothing. They are modest in design—a white blouse with billowing sleeves paired with a skirt of khaki hue, its fabric cascading to the floor. The choice of a pale ensemble puzzles me, as does the skirt's inclusion. What purpose does this attire serve? Moments later we are dressed and find ourselves ushered from our quarters at gunpoint by a small group of soldiers.

"Where could they be taking us?" Carina murmurs under her breath.

"I don't know," I murmur in return.

"Eterly Station," one guard divulges.

"And where exactly is that?" I inquire.

"That is of no concern to you," retorts another guard sharply.

The corridors stretched endlessly, each turn mirroring the last, leading us down a path that feels all too familiar. Transparent walls loom beside us, reminiscent of the cell that has been my cage since my arrival. It seems destiny is guiding me back to that diminutive space once more. As we progress, doors blur into a rapid succession of fleeting views. Within these transient glimpses, I observe the solitary figures of men, each confined just as the women were, yet untouched by the cruel hand of experimentation. What fate awaits them within these walls? Are they spared for now, or simply awaiting their turn?

Amidst this procession of lost souls, one visage struck a chord of recognition — Wolfe. Curled into himself, his world reduced to the space between his arms and knees, he is the very embodiment of desolation. My heart surges with a mix of relief and desperation; he is unharmed yet unreachable.

"Wolfe!" My voice shatters the silence, a desperate plea as I lunge towards his transparent barrier. "Wolfe! Help me! Please! I beg you!" But my advance is halted before i can even touch the transparent wall, an iron grip seizing my arm with unyielding force. I fight against the soldier's hold, my cries echoing off the walls. "Release me!" I demanded, my focus returning to Wolfe.

Yet he remains motionless, a statue of resignation. Perhaps my cries have fallen on deaf ears, or perhaps he chooses silence over acknowledgment. In the shadow of mortality, one often dwells on paths not taken on dreams unfulfilled. I have never indulged in such reflections; but apparently my brother somehow knew I would end up here. And now he ignores me, focusing instead on his own sorrowful situation.

Overwhelmed by defeat, I resign to the guard's grip, guiding me back to Carina's side as we trudge towards Eterly Station. My brother, once my ally and protector, now harbors animosity towards me. The only kin I've known, now a stranger filled with contempt. What's left for me? Engulfed in self-pity, I'm oblivious to our journey's end until the guard's announcement of our arrival jolts me back to reality. Surveying my surroundings, I find myself in an unfamiliar structure. The room is colossal, its ceiling soaring high above.

The walls are clad in an odd metallic substance, while the floor and ceiling mimic the nocturnal heavens—black with scattered specks of white emulating stars. Stooping down for a closer inspection, I extend my hand towards the floor, expecting to graze a painted surface. To my astonishment, it's not paint that meets my fingertips but a cool, glass-like material. My earlier assumption shatters; this isn't a mere representation of the cosmos—it's the cosmos itself. During my introspective descent, we've transcended Earth's bounds. Beneath me lies the vast expanse of space, studded with stars and the occasional celestial body—perhaps an asteroid?

A subtle tremor courses through the floor, sending a fleeting wave of vertigo through me as if the universe itself is shifting beneath my feet. Pondering the cause of this disturbance only intensifies my lightheadedness. Fortuitously, the soldier's firm hold prevents any misstep that might have sent me tumbling into the starry floor below. As my initial wonder subsides, I become aware of others' presence in this grand chamber.

Waiting on the other side of the room is a small group of people. They look similar to me, which is comforting after all the strange encounters I've had. There are eight of them in total: five men and three women, all dressed in simple white garments that match what Carina and I have been given to wear. It seems there's a reason behind our attire after all.

One man separates from the group and approaches us. "My name is Altair," he announces. He appears to be in his thirties, with light blonde hair that contrasts with his deep green eyes. His features are strikingly symmetrical, from his well-placed nose to his bright smile, and he towers over the others, including the Ghemin soldiers.

As Altair's gaze meets mine, a wave of shyness washes over me, yet I find myself hoping he'll keep his attention on me. There's an allure about him that's hard to ignore, even as my instincts send a wave of caution through me.

"I am here to rescue you from your Ghemin captors," Altair continues. "You will come to live with us Dini on Rojus, a planet abundant in food and leisure—far from the confines of a prison cell."

The prospect of freedom from the Ghemin is thrilling, and Altair's captivating presence only adds to my excitement. Yet, despite the allure, a nagging sensation tugs at my conscience, warning me that the Dini may not be as benevolent as they appear. It's a suspicion that suggests they could be even more dangerous than our current captors.

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