Hideous (A Frankenstein Retelling)

HIDEOUSCopyright ©️ 2022 by Gale DarklyAll rights reserved.No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or recorded means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without prior written permission from the author; except for the use of brief quotations in a book review and certain other noncommercial use permitted by copyright law.Except in the United States of America, this book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.This book contains mature content, and is intended to be read by adults.Text Copyright ©️ Gale Darkly 2022Cover Design ©️ Gale Darkly 2022 Contents 1. THE TRANSFER2. GIFT3. AWAKENED4. HAND TO HAND5. THE OFFER6. GIVEN7. BROTHERS OF HEART8. THREE9. A SECOND ASKING10. REMEMBER11. SON OF FIRE12. THE DEAL13. BROKEN14. FRIENDS OF HARDSHIP15. RAVENOUS16. TO GIVE17. TELL ME18. HEX MY HEART19. A WAY OUT20. SPEAK TO ME21. SIXTEEN22. WITHOUT REMORSE23. MIRACLE24. LEAVE ME25. MERCY26. TO DIE27. TO LIVE28. FIND ME29. HOME30. CONCLUSION Author’s Note:This book contains graphic language, unclean living quarters (prison cells), negative self-thoughts, brief mentions of torture (of hero), violence and murder, and graphic sensuality.In this story, there is no cheating, no mentions nor depictions of sexual assault/sexual violence, and no OW/OM drama.Guaranteed HEA. 1. THE TRANSFERCatalinaTHE HALL IS LONG. Stone and iron. Brick and calamity. My limbs are cold and tired. I’m thrown. Falling at knee. The floor of cell, bruising.A cage, backed to another. I’m surrounded by them, walls of cube and rod. There’s a slab bed, and a toilet of that silver-circled metal. A paper thin blanket of gray. A bolted hold, that I cannot reach.I’ve stayed in few facilities, but I know. This is an unorganized place. There are too many gaps. Too many openings. The beds back other beds, bars separating them. They’re all men. I’ve only ever known women. The quiet and the loud. The weak and the tough.Can hear the rumble of my stomach, and the shift of their limbs. There’s a left; right. Left, is a back-facing snorer, with an old, white beard, and small care for his surroundings. Right, is a pull-up crazed soldier. He nods at me, and goes back to mumbling something.Across from my chained door. There is another row of them. Cells basked in dusk, and I hear a rustle. The pulse of my heart, as I step toward my given bed. Not two paces from the bars that separate this cell from the one back. I sit at the edge of bed, rubbing at my eyes. Peeking through my fingers.The cell behind, is the largest, and it’s got a real bed. A real blanket. The beams that separate me from inmate, are the thickest of them all.The light of a single eye. Reflective and white-orange. Behind those bars, the tips of bare toes defy thick shadow. Peeking from beneath silhouette of bent leg. I can sense the stranger’s stillness. All-staring at me, as I cover myself in thinness. Turn my back to their hidden stare.I have slept the injection out of my system. Wake to the sober of a rodent attacking my ankle. I reach, squeezing at its thick neck. Prying teeth from me. I twist, tossing its half-alive skin to the floor.Sit up, covered by blanket, and they’re staring at me. The left side snorer, and the mumbling man.I want to cry, but I know better. I may not know men. May not know of their ways, but silence favors. Wins.A pale, veined hand fights at the way-thick of the bars, before me. The rat’s tail is pinched. The creature fights, as it is pulled through. Blackness keeps me from seeing a crunch. Hearing a thick swallow. I shiver.“What you in for?” Asks the bearded man, jolting me. Oblivious to the grisly catch of my small attacker. He holds to the bars, trousers of denim and stain. Shirt of hole and tear. Smile warm and serious.I ignore him, my head resting back against the horizontal slab. Turn away, my eyelids falling closed.“That’s none of your business, Cliff. Leave her,” orders a voice. Sounding from behind wall. It’s the dark-haired man, opposite.The old man grumbles. “No rule against askin’, Bret.”“Shut it, the two of ya’,” yells a voice from across the aisle. I’ve yet to hear this tone. It’s deep and thick. It’s not that of the silent Rat Eater.“Let me eat. In peace.” Audible chew.“Fuck off, Drake. I talk when I want.”“You lot arguing, again?” Someone breathes. This voice, too, booms from across the way. It’s smoke ridden and chalkboard worthy. “I’ll take both of you.”Bret drops from exercise.“Watch it, Rook. We got a lady here.” My lids widen. My muscles pull tight.“A lady,” repeats Rook.I turn, glancing to the tray of food at my cell door, half-tipped by more starved rats. They scurry, once done.“Don’t got no problem." Grumbles Drake. He’s done with his meal, now. “So long, as she keeps her mouth shut, when I’m eatin’.”“They ate yours. You want some of mine?” Bret offers, tilting his tray of food at me, and I stare at him. He’s dark camouflage and deep gray. Crooked grin. Uneasy blue eyes.My silence stirs close and far voices. They’re suddenly eager, and I’m nervous. Shaking, behind still skin.“Gave me bread,” says Cliff. I turn to him, and that smile reminds me of short grass and high tree. Warm sun, and moist dirt. It’s a comfort. Comfort can’t be trusted.“Beans, for me.” I cannot see Drake, but I know that it’s him, and my