Mark of Mars

I was sprinting through a forest. My toes were numb, caked with mud, and my lungs were screaming for air. I forced my legs to move faster, adrenaline surging through my veins.

The forest was the same as it had been the night before—damp, foggy, and cold. But the silence was what scared me the most.

The stillness made me feel like the pounding of my heart could give me away. I was sure that any second, it would leap out from the underbrush and tear my throat out.

I kept running, but then I heard it.

I tripped over a log and fell onto my stomach. I squeezed my eyes shut and let out a scream as I heard the terrifying sound of its heavy footsteps closing in on me.

I waited, trembling, for the pain of my flesh being ripped open…

I woke up on the cold, damp floor of my one-bedroom apartment, drenched in sweat, screaming silently—I was born mute.

I quickly got up, my stomach rumbling loudly, and walked over to the sink in my tiny kitchen. I saw that it was almost time for work.

The floors were stained, the wallpaper was peeling, and the lack of windows left the room dark. The air was heavy with the smell of mold and old paint. The only thing worth looking at was the fake plant I’d found on my way home from work one night.

I quickly braided my long, dark brown hair, loose strands framing my gaunt face. Tired brown eyes stared back at me from the cracked mirror. I wondered who I looked more like—Mom or Dad.

I glanced longingly at the small refrigerator. I tried not to check it, fighting the strange urge to open it every five minutes, as if food would magically appear.

I only ever had enough money and time after work for an apple and maybe a can of spam, all of which I’d save for dinner. I’d wait all day to eat until I got home at nine-thirty, but at least I had food; others weren’t as lucky.

I licked my chapped lips and turned to grab my uniform—a simple, short white dress with pockets on each side. I paired it with my only jacket and thin black tights, then rushed out the door, securing the three rickety locks.

I hated waking up.

Every day, I’d hurry through the cold, wet streets, avoiding eye contact and keeping my head down until I reached the bus stop two blocks from my apartment.

The lack of benches made it even harder to keep my tired body upright while waiting in the cold. I’d stand there before sunrise, watching for the bright headlights of the city bus.

I’d never known any different, having been found by werewolf guards at the edge of the forest as a baby.

Like everyone else, I was given a number, and when I was old enough to leave the human orphanage and work, I was assigned a job.

One of the nuns at the orphanage named me Fawn. I guess it was because I was found sleeping under a tree in the grass, and I was smaller than the other kids.

Werewolves, or Lycans, had taken over long before I was born. We were taught that it was what we “humans” deserved after years of trying to wipe out their kind.

Many had tried to rebel, but all had failed.

Werewolves were much stronger than humans, and it didn’t help that most humans were malnourished, living off what the werewolves deemed an appropriate minimum wage.

My town was home to the king of all werewolves, the alpha king, though most of us had never seen him.

He was said to have lived for many, many years, purging the lands of “human” filth. Werewolves outlived humans unless they were killed, which, as you can imagine, wasn’t often.

Their god-like appearances fooled everyone—they seemed to never age.

I’d heard old-timers who could no longer work talking about the good old days. Sometimes, it gave me hope, thinking that things might once again be “good,” but they never lived long.

Night patrol always dragged them off to be killed after the ten o’clock curfew. No one was out past then unless they wanted to die.

I think those old-timers had reached a point where they didn’t care; they all seemed so happy. I wished I could be that naive, to ignore the horror around me.

The bus finally pulled up, and I was pushed in as the crowd of late risers hurried to get on.

After sliding my ID card through the machine and waiting for the loud beep of approval, I walked to the back of the bus and stared out the window until my stop.

Seeing everyone quietly talking among themselves in temporary bliss made me feel like my heart was being squeezed. I hated to admit it, but I envied them.

I often thought about a friend I once had—Melissa Froth. She used to work with me at the castle. Even though she was much older, maybe in her thirties or early forties, she was like a sister to me.

We’d help each other with chores, and the days seemed to fly by, until one day, she snuck out past curfew to meet a man who worked at the local fish market.

I don’t know what she had planned that night, but the next day, she wasn’t on the bus, and I never saw her again. I knew she wouldn’t have left me on purpose.

She was replaced immediately, as if nothing had happened. To the beasts, we were all replaceable, only valuable for the work we could do until our bodies gave out.

My hands started to shake with anxiety. I could only imagine how easy it would be to discard someone who couldn’t even speak.

I was okay with being alone before I met her. I knew that trying to communicate with me could be a hassle. But now that I’d had a friend, being alone hurt more than ever.

In a way, I was glad I had my work to keep me busy and tire me out, so I could sleep at night. Without it, too many painful thoughts would have kept me awake.

I was pulled from my thoughts as the bus jerked to a stop and the doors slammed open. The werewolf bus driver yelled over the speaker, ordering us to get off.

I got up, squeezing past everyone and ignoring the dirty looks until I was finally outside in the cold, on my way to the palace.

The sun rising behind the castle never failed to take my breath away. This brief moment was my favorite part of the day.

This job was a blessing. I had a knack for cleaning, and it was one of the more manageable human jobs for someone like me.

I climbed a lengthy staircase through the back entrance, a path only the maids used, and arrived at my assigned area.

The aroma of cinnamon rolls and bacon wafted through the air as I passed the kitchen, causing my stomach to rumble loudly. I headed straight to work in the east wing, a section reserved for the alpha king’s guests.

While scrubbing a stubborn stain in one of the suite’s bathrooms, I paused to wipe the sweat off my forehead and give my lungs a break from the harsh cleaning chemicals.

Taking a deep breath, I looked up, and jumped back a bit to find the head maid Dana looming over me.

Dana wasn’t exactly friendly, but she was efficient, possessing a way with words that could whip anyone into shape instantly.

For some reason, I always felt like she embodied something I aspired to be, strong.

Her fluffy reddish-gray hair was always styled as high as possible, perhaps in an attempt to appear taller and more intimidating. If that was even humanly possible.

Her uniform could have used a few extra sizes as the front buttons strained to contain her ample bosom; thank goodness, she wore an undershirt.

“Taking a break, are we?”

She smoothed out her uniform with her large hands, sizing me up and down, her large figure easily overshadowing my petite height of five feet. I quickly shook my head, earning an immediate eye roll.

“Don’t bother lying. You don’t get paid to lounge around, Fawn. You should be grateful for this job. A mouse like you wouldn’t last a minute doing real labor. You’d do well to remember that, human.”

I nodded slowly, signaling an apology, knowing she was right.

“Now hurry, you’re needed as a replacement in the west wing. Someone else will finish this later before any important guests arrive.”

As soon as she said that, my ears started to ring, my palms becoming damp and shaky. The west wing was where the alpha king stayed—the one and only monster of my nightmares.

I didn’t want to know why a replacement was needed, only how to dig myself a hole big enough to disappear into the plush carpet beneath my feet.

I was pulled up to my feet and pushed out of the room with force. I pointed back at the room, but Dana quickly dismissed my gesture.

“No, no. You leave the supplies there. Nice try, mouse. There’ll be plenty more there, don’t you worry.”

Dana’s raspy laughter echoed as she pushed me harder, nearly causing me to fall flat on my face.

“Now, hurry along. We haven’t got all day.”

My stomach churned, and tears welled up in my eyes, as I contemplated the possibility of being in the same room as such a beast.

What would happen if he didn’t like the way I cleaned the rooms? What if he punished me? What if I vanished like Melissa?

I wrung my uniform tightly, watching my palms change color. I kept my head down. There was no way I was getting out of this unscathed. Deep down, I had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to end well for me.