Yurui The Cursed One

The woman was looking at me with her chicken-like eyes, her pupils expanding and then contracting every few seconds. From the way she was smiling, you’d think I was a funny little worm she found under a rock.

I try to lift my head. I barely make it an inch before pain explodes behind my eyes, forcing a tiny whimper out of me.

“Mmm, you hang in there, kay? Help is coming.”

The woman shifts me higher over her shoulder. My stomach rolls. For one horrible second, I think I am going to throw up down her back. The "help" is coming. Somehow, that sounded more concerning than anything else going on right now.

I try to speak to her, but nothing comes out. My tongue feels too thick to move, my mouth tastes like old metal, and every pulse of my heartbeat sends another crack of pain through my skull.

The chicken woman smiles. “Good,” she says. “I was starting to worry Stephan, the stupid oaf, had cracked you a tad bit too hard.”

A tad bit too hard; I would laugh if it weren't so sad. I feel as if I were half dead already; if that's them going easy, I'm too scared to think about what they are going to do when they get "serious."

Stephan’s shadow falls over me before I can make my mouth work. He looks much bigger up close. Like someone took the idea of a man and stretched it until it stopped making sense. His shoulders blot out half the night sky. His breathing sounds wet and heavy, like there is something wrong with his lungs.

Stephan leans closer, and his face lowers into view. His eyes are small for something so large. Dull, almost gentle, in the way it reminds me of a cow from a cartoon I used to watch when I was little.

“She’s okay, right?” he asks, peering at me. “I didn’t… break anything?”

“Not yet.” The chicken woman pats my back once, almost fondly. “Though you certainly came awfully close to it.”

“I was careful this time.”

“Stephan. You smashed the car to bits.”

“But I was being careful.”

The chicken woman sighs.

I finally manage to force my lips apart. My mouth opens. Nothing comes out. The woman notices it anyway. Her eyes brighten.

“Oh? Got something to say?”

“I…” My tongue feels swollen. My throat burns. “Doctor.”

Stephan blinks. The chicken woman tilts her head.

“I need…” I swallow, and bile rises in the back of my throat. “I need a doctor.”

For a moment, she looks genuinely touched. Then she smiles.

“Oh, sweetie. There will not be any doctors where you are going.”

The desert folds sideways. The last thing I see before the darkness takes me again is Stephan looking disappointed, as if doctors sounded interesting and he had been hoping to meet one.

The sand rushes up. The sky disappears. For a moment, there is only darkness and the deep, sickening throb inside my skull.

When I open my eyes again, my cheek is pressed against cold metal. For several seconds, I was confused as to what I was looking at. A door. A broken handle. A smear of blood darkening the paint. Then the pieces clicked into place. I was back at the crash site, leaning against the mangled car.

My back is pressed against one of the doors, and my hands are tied behind me so tightly my wrists have gone numb. My legs are free, but that feels less like mercy and more like mockery. I can barely keep myself upright. If I tried to run, I would probably fall on my face before I made it ten steps. So much for my big escape.

Back at school, I used to daydream about running away all the time. I could picture it perfectly. Bursting out of class. Flying down the hall, skipping down the stairs, two at a time, cutting across the schoolyard, running all the way home without looking back. I never did. Turns out cowardice had been doing a better job keeping me alive than courage ever could.

My head pounds again, hard enough to make the edges of the world tremble. I blink and try to focus. Bad idea. Everything doubles, then slides back together, all jumbled. If I do not see a doctor soon, I might end up with permanent damage. Judging by the way my body feels, I might already be past that point.

A few meters away, the chicken woman and Stephan are locked in an argument, their voices low but vicious. The woman waves her bat as she talks, jabbing it at his chest as he stands with his huge arms hanging at his sides, head lowered, shoulders hunched. He looked like he was praying for the ground to open up and swallow him.

Even monsters have it rough, huh? Somehow, that does not make me feel better about my chances.

“Psst.”

Something bumps my shoulder. I freeze. Then I turn my head and see the Miracle Inc woman lying on her side, hands tied behind her back. Her expensive suit is torn, dusty, and streaked with blood.

Funny. She does not seem to be having that much fun now that she’s in my shoes.

She wriggles closer, jaw tight from the strain. “Help me untie my hands.”

I stare at her. “Huh?”

“Untie me.”

The nerve of this bitch is actually impressive. She kidnaps me, drags me across the desert, gets us attacked by freaks, and now she wants my help? Oh, hell no. You reap what you sow.

“Are you out of your mind?” I whisper.

Her eyes sharpen. “Listen to me.”

“No, you listen. I hope that whatever they are gonna do to me, they’ll do it to you first.”

A flash of irritation crosses her face. Good. If she is annoyed, that means I am doing something right. Then her expression settles. All hints of irritation vanished beneath a layer of practiced calm.

“I work an administrative role now,” she whispers, “but before they put me behind a desk, I handled field security for Miracle Inc.”

“So?”

“So untie me, and I can deal with them.”

I look past her at Stephan. He is still arguing with the chicken woman. Still close enough that if he were to turn around, he would see us immediately. It would probably only take a single swing of his arm to splatter both of us. I’m not sure I want to mess with that, much less entrust my safety to a heavily injured office chick. That's like the equivalent of betting on a crippled donkey in a horse race.

“You can deal with that?” I whisper while turning my head towards the giant.

“Yes. Untie me, and I’ll make short work of both of them.”

I scoff. “You sure would. Let me guess, you couldn’t do it before because your leg hurt? I don’t know what your game is, but I ain't playing it.”

Her mouth tightens. “The crash threw me off.” She leans in closer. “Under normal circumstances, this would not have happened.”

“Excuses.”

She sighs. “Do you have to be such a child?”

“I am a child.”

Technically. I mean, I am seventeen, which is basically an adult, but for some reason, legally, I’m still considered a child, so eh. I’ll play that card when I can.

She gives me a glare. “They still have not realized I am blessed,” she says, looking at me as if she's revealing some grand secret. “That is our advantage.”

“OUR advantage?” I make sure to put the emphasis on “our.”

“My advantage, then. I do not care what word makes you feel better. Untie me.”

I almost laugh again. A few hours ago, this woman would have looked through me like I was a stain on the floor. Now she is whispering at me like I am her only hope. There is probably a lesson there. Sadly, my brain has resigned for the evening. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure I’d have something very sarcastic to fire back at her instead of simple:

“No.”

Her eyes flick toward Stephan and the chicken woman. Then back to me.

“My name is Thea,” she says. “Thea Anamagi.”

“Okay? I don’t really care.”

“I am Arisa’s older sister.”

Oh fuck.

Just hearing her name feels like getting punched in the gut. Arisa. One of the so-called blessed trio, the three strongest students in our school. Tiger blessed. Permanent sharp grin on her face. Always looking for the next fight, acting like the whole world is her personal colosseum. She never messed with me, but that was mostly because I was too boring for her to notice. Which, in hindsight, was a blessing in disguise. The last thing I needed was another lunatic bothering me.

Thea watches my face too closely. “I know that she’s your classmate.”

“So what? We aren’t even friends or anything.”

“Would you rather trust your classmate's sister or a couple of human traffickers? You know, they aren’t taking you to a theme park.”

I stare at her. “Umhm. Coincidentally, it just so happens that the classmate's sister is also a human trafficker herself. How convenient.”

I give her a sarcastic look. “Hey, maybe you should try talking things out with them. Be like, ‘Yo, you know we are actually coworkers.’” I point to myself. “‘The lively one over there—I found her first.’ Or something like that; maybe they’ll agree to share the loot. Heck, you could all sit around the campfire, exchanging kidnapping stories.”

“That's not… Ugh, forget it.”

Thea grinds her teeth. “You do not have to trust me. Untie me and run.”

“Run where?”

“Anywhere away from here.”

I look out at the desert. There is nothing around us. No lights. No buildings. No road cutting through the dark. Just an endless sea of sand stretching in every direction.

“I can barely stand.”

“Then do not stand.” Her voice drops. “Hide. Drag yourself out of sight. Bury yourself in the sand if you have to. Just do not be sitting here when they come back.”

She squeezes out a painful-looking smile. For some reason every rich scumbag I have ever met acts like basic human emotion is a foreign language.

“I really hate you,” I whisper.

“I don’t really care,” she replies quite bluntly.

Another burst of laughter comes from Nara. Stephan growls back. Their voices rise. Thea’s eyes flick toward them. I could see the panic in her eyes.

“Listen, you…” she snarls through gritted teeth. “Untie me. Now.” Her voice goes flat. “Or I promise you, whatever happens next, you will regret it for the remainder of your miserable life.”

Jesus. You’d think rich people would know some basic manners.

Under any other circumstances, I would rather bite through my own tongue than help her. All of this is entirely her fault. If not for her, I’d be happily sleeping on my balcony right about now, having the time of my life. But nooo, she just had to come and ruin it all. Some ugly little part of me is willing to make sure she suffers for it, even if I have to suffer with her.

But the more I think about it, the worse her deal sounds for her. I untie her. She runs off to fight them, convinced she has a plan. The giant dude and the chicken woman go after her, because of course they do, and while everyone is busy tearing each other apart, I crawl somewhere else.

Maybe I get away. Maybe I die in the desert. Maybe I get caught and tortured, IDK. Either way, I am already screwed. At least this way, I get a shot.

That’s right, Yurui. You are smart. That's how you made it this far. I keep reassuring myself. As long as I stay calm and keep a level head, I will find a way out. I always do.

Usually.

I turn awkwardly, ignoring the bright flare of pain in my shoulders. “Show me your hands.”

Relief flashes across Thea’s face. I turn my head away before she can see me smile. The great Miracle Inc. woman. Fancy suit, fancy car, probably has a fancy apartment as well. The kind of person who spent years looking down on people like me without ever having to look us in the eye. And here we are, her fate is in my hands now.

“Turn around,” I say.

She rolls onto her side and brings her bound wrists closer. The rope is worn down, rough-looking, and poorly tied. Sloppy work, just like I thought. Whoever did it had zero skill or couldn’t be bothered to tie a proper knot.

The moment my face nears the rope, the thick stench of rotten meat fills my nostrils.

Fuck.

I gag and squeeze my eyes shut, immediately regretting the entire chain of decisions that led me up to this point.

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