House of Malak

Chapter 1

Tatum

For a facility that was barely two years old, it’d seen as much death as a graveyard. But these were violent, painful deaths. The terror and scars ran deep. I was confident that more than one ghost roamed the halls. Not a monstrous ghost, but an unsettled human spirit, still existing in their pain and untimely death.

Haven was a relatively new division within The Harem Project. We currently had a single 130-room building, hidden from as many eyes as possible and connected to the primary portals at the heart of The Harem Project—corporate, research, and the matching buildings all ran off the same halls.

I was thankful, honestly. When they asked me to be the director, I knew in my heart that this was my calling. I needed to be with these humans and try to help right the unforgivable wrongs done to them.

I supposed that’s my angelic calling.

I was brought in right after the first rescue of impregnated human females from a Silence facility just over two years ago. The things they birthed were almost tame compared to what we’ve been recovering recently. These were the things of nightmares. Inhuman and strange; they were new monsters that we didn’t understand.

We’ve lost more women to the birthing of their monstrous babies than I’d care to admit. No matter how closely we monitored them if a child decided to claw or eat their way out, it was usually a sudden instinct on their part. By then, it was kinder to kill the woman outright than it was to let the newborn continue to tunnel its way out.

But not all births ended badly. Some were relatively easy, even easier than regular human births. That didn’t mean they were all well and good.

I knocked gently on the door and pushed it open. Lydia was a new mother; one who had a very easy birth. Basically, the baby was small and just kind of… slipped out. All rather cool and interesting until you looked at the child.

Lydia was curled up in her bed with her knees bent to her chest. There were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t slept in months. It’s possible that she hadn’t. Poor woman had likely not slept since she was abducted.

We’d learned that the first few rescues that came to us had been raped and impregnated that way. And then the experiments to change the genetics of the fetuses were conducted in utero. Most of those babies were relatively “normal” as far as monsters go, if not slightly deformed from time to time.

It wasn’t until later, about fourteen months ago, that we learned that if the humans were raped, it was due to the monsters’ cruelty and not for the purpose of conception. That was done by implanting genetically mutated DNA.

The things that we were seeing now were morbid.

I touched Lydia’s hand and she startled, looking up at me. “How are you feeling today?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I’m okay,” she whispered, keeping her voice low. But even that little sound roused the baby. He always responded to his mother’s voice.

“Have you taken him out?” I asked.

Lydia shook her head, her eyes widening in fear. To be terrified of your own infant must be a traumatic experience all on its own.

I crossed the room and pulled the cover off the wet bed that her infant was currently laying in. His shiny black eyes were almost alien. No whites. No color. All black and glossy. Instead of limbs, he had four tentacles. Instead of hair, he had tentacles. And on all of the suckers of his tentacles were little teeth. Yes, lots and lots of teeth on this one.

He was eight days old and had barely been taken out of his little wet bed. There was an inch or so of warm water, constantly filtered and kept at a very balmy temperature. Because we weren’t sure how much of an escape artist he was going to be, we kept a lid on the bed. Just in case.

“Hi, precious,” I cooed to the little one. He blinked up at me. When I reached in, his little arm tentacles reached for me. They wrapped around my wrists, the little suction cups just learning to hang on beyond what he innately did in reflex. I could feel all the little teeth. Right now, they tickled, but I would wager a bet it wouldn’t be long before they sharpened and became lethal.

I lay him on the padded changing table and wrapped him snugly in a blanket with a damp cloth inside. He wasn’t a species that existed, so we weren’t sure how much moisture he needed to survive. Until he was old enough to tell us what he needed, we were just going to have to work with him based on instincts.

The oldest child living in Haven was just about two. Now that he was beginning to truly learn about the world and himself, we had been working on getting a foster/mentor program in place so that these monstrous babies could be placed with monstrous families who were most like their kind to learn from in a safe environment.

When the mothers survived, they had the option to join the children. There was a time that no matter what we did, the mothers did not survive. It didn’t take us long to realize that they were basically kept as incubators for Silence. They were never meant to survive. And the unlucky few that did were bred again.

Once the boy was swaddled, I picked him up and hugged him to my chest. If it weren’t for his strange eyes, being wrapped like this, you’d think he was a normal child. I pulled the chair from the side of the bed and brought it close to Lydia before sitting down.

She glanced over with wide eyes.

“You know, some mothers nurse their children for a very long time. That means the kids may start teething and accidentally bite. It’s the mother’s responsibility to teach them not to,” I said.

Lydia looked at me, biting her lip.

“There’s no difference here. They don’t know any better and they’re just learning their bodies.” I brushed my finger gently over the newborn’s face. “Did you name him?”

She shook her head.

We sat silently for a long time as I rocked the little one in my arms with Lydia watching. The fear in her never fully disappeared, but it did fade the longer I stayed there.

“Want to hold him?” I asked. The skeptical look she gave me had me smiling. “It’s okay, Lydia. It’s okay to be scared. You’ve been through a lot. But I promise, most monsters are just like you and me. Even when they first come into the world.”

“He can’t hurt me?” she asked.

The infant wiggled in my arms at her voice.

I touched her hand and pinched it lightly. “That’s what his little teeth feel like right now.”

She nodded and looked back at the baby. “Okay.”

Shifting to sit on the edge of her bed, I nestled the baby into her arms. I was relieved to see the way she sighed, a smile pulling at her lips. And the little one just stared up at her with big eyes. He knew his mother.

“That’s better,” I said, and she gave me a smile. “You’re not alone, honey. We’re never going to shove you into the world and expect you to know what to do with your son. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t his mother.”

Lydia nodded. “He’s… really kind of cute.”

“He’s definitely cute,” I said, making her smile again. “I’m going to continue my rounds. If you want to put him back, just make sure you put the lid on securely, okay?” Lydia turned worried eyes to me as the fear rose again.

“Trust me,” I urged. “There’s also the call button if you need it. Someone else will come in and bring him back to the wet bed if you’d rather not. You don’t even need to take him out of the blankets if you don’t want to.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

As I headed for the door, I paused. “You should think of a name for him.”

“What do you name monsters?” she asked quietly.

“Well, my name is Tatum. Not that unusual a name in the human world, yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah, but you… don’t look like him.”

I smiled. “Believe me when I tell you that what you see of most monsters is not truly what they look like.” I nodded toward the newborn. “We all have a shape that we hide. Why do you think we’re called monsters?”

Her eyes grew ever-wider.

“I promise you, regardless of what we look like, I’ve found that the true monsters aren’t those with different shapes and sharp teeth. They look more like you than me.”

“Not the ones that took me,” she said quietly.

“You’re right. In every species, there are bad eggs who are responsible for the most horrific acts. Until the Division of Silence emerged, humans were actually more monstrous than supernaturals with all their wars and war crimes. But alas, peace never lasts long enough.”

She nodded and turned her attention back to the baby. I left her door cracked for her own peace of mind before I headed down the hall to visit one mother-to-be that I was most concerned with. Suzanne was lying on her side, her large stomach resting on the bed. She looked beat.

The color of her skin was sallow, and the whites of her eyes were almost yellow all the time now. She often got random bloody noses.

Suzanne opened her eyes as I rested my hand on her stomach. There was no doubt in my mind that she was carrying multiples and therefore she’d birth them sooner rather than later. The problem was, whatever she was carrying had concealed themselves within a cocoon that no monster or machine could see through.

All I knew was that if we were going to save her, we needed to get the babies out before they could tear themselves free. Already, they were draining her life.

If you want your mother, you need to calm down in there, I thought with my hand still resting on her stomach. You’re killing her. Do you understand?

Of course, they didn’t. Nor could they actually hear my thoughts. I turned my attention back to Suzanne. “Hang in there. We’re considering ways to extract them with no one getting hurt. Soon.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. I pulled a blanket up over her, then watched her for a minute. She was scared, and I was scared for her.

I dimmed the light and left her room.

There were dozens of rooms just like Lydia’s and Suzanne’s. Tons of pregnancies still in gestation and an equal number of mother/child rooms.

They weren’t just bedrooms or medical rooms, though. They were mini suites, so the women could have some semblance of living and not feel like they were still prisoners. Although, I’ve been told about the places they were kept. A room with a bed was going to be an improvement from those conditions.

Heading down the hall, I stopped at the orphan room on this floor, which was by far one of the biggest suites in the entire building. Each floor had one, and it broke my heart to know that we were constantly adding more residents each week.

It’s staffed around the clock by supernaturals, and the kids socialized and got play time. They’re not kept in cages. Uh… mostly.

I stepped in and was greeted by one of the infants I wanted to check on. She could only be described as toothy. With more than one mouth and more than one set of teeth per mouth. Needless to say, her mother didn’t survive her birth.

Stopping in front of her, I crouched down to get eye level. She was three months old now and laying on her side with her face close to the bars.

“Hi,” I said, running my finger over where her small hand was fisted around a bar. She sighed and blinked at me. “We’re trying to place you, baby girl. Hang tight.”

Honestly, we didn’t know where to place her. Like nearly all these children, she was her own species of monster. I shuddered to think what Silence’s intent was behind creating her. Then again, I was partially convinced that every single mutation they created was an accident, since no two were ever alike.

Leaving toothy girl, I headed for the cribs with the one exception to that observation. There were eight of these children. By studying them, we had concluded that this specific genetic code was intentional and that they were trying for something very specific. Our oldest at nine months was the calmest of the other eight, with the youngest—only eight-weeks-old—being nearly a black hole itself.

Stopping in front of Shadow, the oldest, I hunkered down to get eye level with him. Like our tentacle baby, his eyes were all black. Unlike the tentacle baby, Shadow and his species’ eyes were matte black. Depthless. Haunting.

“Hey, little monster.”

They never made any sound. Not a coo. Not a cry. Not baby babble. Nothing. I half suspected that their voices were going to be like that of a banshee’s scream. We’ve had very long conversations about that, considering what the single known living banshee went through at their hands.

“Hungry?”

Shadow tilted his head and blinked at me. He was sitting in an open top crib against the wall with a stuffed fox in his hands. While we put him in the playpen with the others from time to time, he much preferred to be in his crib and simply observe.

I touched his head, running my fingers through his fine hair. His skin was a strange pallor; gray, but around the edges were dark. Not like dark-skinned humans, but like someone took a black permanent marker and started coloring at the edges of his being. It was weird and disturbing the way those black marks bled a little more sometimes.

“I’ll be right back.”

He watched me go. I could almost physically feel his eyes on me. It felt demonic, which only added to my hypothesis that he was somehow related to a banshee at his core.

Stepping into the kitchen, I found a whole slew of workers preparing meals. “Feed time soon?” I asked.

Daisy nodded. “Yep. Who you bringing food to?”

“Shadow.”

She nodded and inclined her head to a row of bottles. There was one in a sippy cup which was Shadow’s. He also had a little cup with baby bites in it. Puff chew snacks that tasted like dried berries. “Shadowkind in that corner, Miss Tatum.”

Shadow was our first, and then when the others came, we began calling them Shadowkind. The name stuck, although we didn’t truly intend it that way.

“Thanks, Daisy. I’m just taking Shadow’s.”

She nodded and went back to her work, so I grabbed the two I came in for and headed back into the main room. There were eight adult monsters in the room at all times. Just because there were so many unknown monstrous babies to deal with.

Stopping in front of Shadow, I handed him both cups. For the first time maybe ever, the corner of his lips quirked up slightly as he looked at me. It was difficult to know where he was looking with his dark eyes, but I was sure he was looking at me.

While his smile should be slightly chilling, I smiled back. “Eat up, honey. Growing babies need their strength.”

This time, his little hint of a smile felt amused.

I got the very distinct impression he was a ticking time bomb. As I left, knowing that he was considered the “least evolved” of the Shadowkind, I shuddered to think what that meant for the eight-week old.