Lockdown Fantasy #4: Lockdown, #17

By Black Hare Press

Fantasy stories for LOCKDOWN.

 

FEATURED AUTHORS

Chasonette by Erica Schaef

Songs for Lilly by Joachim Heijndermans

Our Beating Hearts by Kaitlyn Arnett

Fountain of Youth by M. M. Montelione

Through the Clouds, Over the Sea by McKenzie Richardson

The Beast in the Basement by Rhiannon Bird

Malomenire the Mad by Shawn M. Klimek

Jossep's Delivery by Stuart Conover

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Hare Press
• Release date: Sep 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215305645

Book preview

THE BEAST IN THE BASEMENT

By Rhiannon Bird

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Corenax’s horns bumped the glass as he tried to readjust himself in the tank. His back was hunched over and angled to fit his bent wings above him—he could only move a few inches. The respirator clicked, the only thing keeping him from drowning in the liquid around him. He ran a claw across the respirator tube, mulling over tugging on it. The human would come running, either to save his life or watch him die.

The basement flooded with light. He blinked through the blue-green water at the open door. It was a small human. The light from the house behind her illuminated her blonde hair so that it shone like a sunrise. She jumped down a few steps and cocked her head to the side, staring at him.

This little human looked different, unlike the other one. She grabbed the railing and used it to lean out further. He raised a clawed hand and pressed it against the glass. Above him she held her own palm outstretched with unclawed fingers. A talon cut a smooth path through the water as his hand drifted back down to rest on the bottom of the tank. She stared at it the entire time.

Behind her the other human rushed down the stairs, yelling frantically. She flinched as he swept her up into his arms. The human glared down at Corenax with cold eyes his shoulders stiff. Then he was gone, the door slamming behind him and the light leaving with him.

Corenax woke to a bang on the glass and was met with a glare from eyes of steel blue. One hand rested on a compact black box that went up to the human’s knees. From it ran a tube that delved right into the bottom of the tank. His respirator tube. Corenax’s head snapped up and his eyes widened as the human flicked the switch to off. The effect was instant—he couldn’t breathe, almost as if the air was being sucked out of his lungs. His hands flew to the respirator and paused. Was it better to suffocate or drown? His body began to convulse, and his heart pounded out of his chest.

Air flooded back into his body, and he pressed the respirator deeper into his face, sucking in great gulps of air. His heart hadn’t returned to normal yet when he caught sight of the red button in the human’s other hand. He pressed it, and hot shocks of pain lashed out down Corenax’s spine. His breathing turned ragged, and suddenly the air was gone again, the shocks back as well.

Through it all the human just grinned.

Corenax’s breathing was still shaky long after the human had left. It was still shaky when the other human, the little one, crept down into the basement. She scurried down the stairs and over to his tank to stare at him. When she was this close, it was even more obvious how small she was, her head the size of his fist.

Woah, she said. It was slightly distorted by the water. Her eyes moved up to his wings. I’ve read about fairies and angels. She scrunched up her nose. You don’t look like them.

He just blinked at her.

I was the fairy in the school play. I had wings that looked like a butterfly. Her chest puffed up. My teacher says I’m the best fairy she’s ever seen.

There was a thud upstairs, and she jumped. Then she was gone, almost as if she hadn’t been there at all.

The second time she visited him, she lay in front of the tank, chattering. Mostly about a boy in her class who’d taken the last skipping rope and the following fight which had resulted with both of them in detention.

The third time she visited him, she danced around in the dark, pretending to be Cinderella. She was appalled when he shook his head: no, he didn’t know who Cinderella was. The little one shot back upstairs shortly after that.

The fourth time she visited him was the same night. This time with a bright blue book, the word Cinderella splashed across the front. She read each page delicately, then turned it around for him to see each painted picture.

The fifth time she visited him, she was crying. Big, blue tears that turned her face red in blotchy sections and made her breathing uneasy. She didn’t talk this time. He put his hand up on the glass, and, sniffling, she pressed hers against it on the other side. She smiled. I like you, Mr Not Fairy.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked open, and she jumped, squeaking. The little one ran around behind the tank, pressing her back against the glass as her breathing hitched. Corenax shuffled as much as he could so that his body hid her from the human.

The human headed straight for his desk, reading over the notes from the previous night. Corenax rapped on the glass, and he waved his hands at her to run. With wide eyes, she shook her head.

All right, the human muttered to himself. We’ll need bloods.

He produced a long needle that glinted off the small desk light. The little one gasped at the sight, and Corenax quickly rammed his shoulder against the side of the tank, shaking the glass and covering the sound.

The human sighed. Calm down, beast. Then he pressed the little, red button. Electricity coursed through Corenax, pain bursting through every part of him as he shook.

The little one had one hand on the tank and one over her mouth, tears streaming silently off her face. The shock left him, and his shoulders heaved with effort. The human dragged over a step ladder and climbed it to reach the top of the tank. It opened, and with the red button firmly gripped in one hand, he sunk the needle into Corenax’s wing. Instinctively, he tried to curl