Exterminatrix

“It’s Castro,” the voice says.

“Okay, Castro. I’m going to turn on the light.” I make it from the last step to the dirt floor, keeping the gun trained to the dirt and my finger on the trigger as I reach for the hanging switch dangling next to the bare bulb above my head. “I want you to stay where you are.”

I pause, silence enveloping the cool, musty air as I reach up and pull the metal cord.

Light devours the shadows and illuminates my prey.

Castro takes a tentative step from behind the furnace in the center of the room. His body is covered in shimmering black scales that seem to catch the light within flecks of gold. His face is a near equal mix of both human and lizard, with expressive eyes and an elongated muzzle, the same black scales shining over his nose and high cheekbones, inky blue-black strands of hair falling forward to graze their ridges. Just below his sharp jaw and chin is a pouch with a slit, a feature of all male Lizardfolk. His dark pants are covered in roan-colored dust from the earthen basement floor, and his chest is bare, his expanse of scaled muscle shifting with every nervous breath. A long tail curls behind him in the shadows, coiled in a spiral like a chameleon’s. He looks strong and agile, but subdued and nervous. Powerful, yet full of sadness. Otherworldly, yet…beautiful.

I swallow, tearing my gaze from his muscled body to meet his reptilian eyes. My gun lowers a little, though my finger still warms the trigger. “Hi,” I say. He gives me a melancholic smile in reply. “I don’t suppose you have any documentation for being outside a protected zone, do you?”

Castro shakes his head. “No, Layla. I don’t.”

My name in his rich baritone sends an unexpected rush of gooseflesh up my arms.

“Okay…why are you here?”

“There were Falconfolk hunting me. It seemed like a good place to hide,” he says, glancing around at the space now lit by the dim bulb above us. His eyes come back to me as his shoulders drop. “I guess I was wrong. Maybe I should have taken my chances outside.”

That wouldn’t have worked out much better for him. At least he lived a few hours longer than he would have in the countryside, I guess. “Where were you trying to go?”

Castro lets go of a heavy sigh. “Tingletown.”

“Really?” I ask, taking a small step toward him. “How come you didn’t want to stay in your colony? Tingletown is quite a distance from the nearest Lizardfolk territory. Why didn’t you apply for papers for somewhere closer?”

Castro shrugs, the golden slits of his black eyes falling to the dirt floor. “My family is kind of a big deal in my colony. I knew they would never stamp my documents and let me leave.”

“How old are you? Your family wouldn’t let you go?”

“I’m twenty-four, but our society works a bit differently than yours. It’s not easy to leave. It’s very restrictive. Suffocating, actually. When I heard of Tingletown and how monsters and humans alike were trying to live harmoniously together, it just sounded so…idyllic. I had to give it a shot.” His eyes meet mine, and a pang of regret smacks into my heart at the sorrow I see in his gentle smile. “I wanted a different life. To live the way I wanted. To love who I wanted. It seemed like it could be possible there, and it was worth it to try.”

Something about his earnest, honest words and the way he looks at me brings a fleeting blush into my cheeks. That pang in my heart sharpens to the slice of an arrow. Even though my dream job has come to an end, I’ve gotten to live with adventure, traveling the world, hunting demons. Castro has never had that opportunity. He seized a chance at the life he wanted, only to fail.

We stare at one another for a long and silent moment. Castro’s unusual, bright eyes seem to burrow right into my soul. There’s something simple and straightforward about him that shines through those gilt-edged pupils, something pure and sweet. But the rules we both must abide by are unbending. He broke them. And no matter how beautiful and sorrowful he is, I am the deliverer of consequence.

“You know what happens next, don’t you,” I say, my voice quiet as my grip around the Beretta tightens.

Castor’s melancholic smile bears me no malice, only resignation. “Yes. But I’m not ready.”

“It’s a rare case when we are.”

“Indeed,” he says with a bow of his head. “But can I ask a favor, Layla?”

Gooseflesh skitters up my arms at the warmth of my name in his voice. I should say no. Whatever he wants, he’s not in a position to ask for favors or mercy. But there’s a strange pull in my chest, that I want to give him a chance nonetheless. “What is it?”

“Will you sit with me for a little while? I just want someone to talk to before I go.”

A deep breath fills my chest. I look around the room, my attention snagging on a shelf of wine bottles along a dimly lit wall. Against my better judgement, I lower my weapon and head toward it, glancing over the options until I pull a bottle down, unscrewing the top.

I gesture to the floor where Castro settles himself with a hopeful yet wary, watchful gaze that follows my every move. And then I sit with the monster I’m meant to kill as I pass him the bottle of wine.

“Tell me about yourself.”

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3

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CASTRO

Time seems to bend and reshape itself around us. Minutes feel like days, and yet an hour seems to pass in a blink. We share the bottle of wine between us as we talk, and with each moment that passes I become more entranced by the woman who should have already killed me.

I watch Layla carefully as she recounts a tale from one of her many travels. She’s so expressive with her hands. They back up her rich and raspy voice like a dance, fluttering when she swears. Her full lips are curved into a smile, her rich brown eyes looking off into the shadows as she recounts her memories. A lock of her hair that’s escaped from her ponytail keeps falling to graze across her cheek, and every so often she guides it behind her ear, though it always frees itself eventually. I’d give anything to feel its softness, to examine the many hues of blonde within that simple strand.

“You’ve done so many incredible things,” I say, trying to keep my voice from sounding as spellbound as I feel. “You’ve been so many places. I’ve never left my colony until five days ago. Honestly, I’m happy I even made it this far.”

“I still don’t get why Tingletown specifically. There are other colonies of your kind, and other monster-friendly towns that must be closer to your home than Tingletown,” Layla says as she pushes herself up from the dirt floor. She winces and rubs her right leg with her palm, and I notice the hitch in her step as she walks to the shelf to grab a second bottle of wine.

“There’s just nowhere else quite like it, where all sorts of beings live together harmoniously. Another Lizard colony would have been more of the same. And I’ve never really been…” I trail off and glance at Layla as she raises a brow in a request for me to continue. I dart my gaze away, feeling heat infuse the scales on my cheeks. “I’ve never really been…attracted…to my own kind.”

Realization dawns on Layla’s face as she limps toward me and sits down on the old blankets we’ve laid out, unscrewing the cap on the bottle. I think I see a hint of pink rise in her skin, and it makes my cocks ache with a sudden pang of need. “Ah, I see. That makes sense. I’ve heard of a few places like that in my travels. But they’re rare.” She takes a drink from the bottle before passing it to me. A long and heavy silence descends within the cool, humid air. “So…you’ve never been with a Lizardwoman?”

I shake my head before I gulp down some wine. “Not a human either.”