Chapter 3: Never-Ending Choices

"What a 'demon' is, is really subjective," Dr. Laban explained. "And unfortunately, the amount of information we have is limited. But we're not talking about angels and demons, though the Pēy like to use those words in their stories."

"They're thought of as the first race," Sarah continued. She sat back into her chair as she thought over her next words carefully. "We don't know if that's true for certain, but if they weren't the first, they were definitely close."

"First or last, it doesn't really matter. The real problem with the Pēy lies with their superiority. They think of themselves as better, so they deemed themselves worthy of better," Dr. Laban added, his tone exhausted. He obviously didn't agree.

"And are they?" Griffin asked. "Better, I mean."

"Yes, you are," Laban corrected, making Griffin a bit uncomfortable. The 'us' and 'you' talk was making him feel outcasted. "Pēy have better hearing, smelling, feeling, tasting, and thinking. Anything that we can do, you can do ten times better. Or you should be able too."

"You said something about someone have better blood tests even though they we're only 1/16th Pēy," Griffin said, though he meant it to be more of a question.

Dr. Laban typed something into his tablet before passing it to Griffin. The screen was full of charts and percentages, but nothing that made any sense to him.

"I can't test for Pēy percentage, as some call it. I can only test if you have the DNA marker that all Pēy and Pēy descendants have, but there are other ways of making a good guess. For example, the more Pēy you are, the more antibodies you should have. Pēy rarely ever get sick and seemed to be immune too most viruses and contagions. Though, this doesn't seem to pertain to you."

Griffin handed the tablet back to the Doctor. The charts weren't helping him much anyways. "So I'm not a pure-blood then?"

This question seemed to make Dr. Laban somewhat uncomfortable and he looked to Sarah for help. She looked just as pained as he was but continued for him anyways.

"As Dr. Laban mentioned before, our information is limited. We have never been able to convince any pure-blooded Pēy to give us a blood sample. There are just certain correlations that allow us to make educated guesses," she said without looking at Griffin. "One of the stronger correlations is physical attributions."

"My eyes," Griffin guessed, though he was thinking that they were the issue the entire time. Hadn't that been the case his entire life? Every moment, every achievement, every mistake, all whittled down to two details. Griffin was never anything more than his red eyes.

"That is one sign of being Pēy," Laban answered. His voice was soft and low, almost pitying Griffin. "In the hundreds of volunteers we've tested, and the few pure bloods that we've encountered, one thing is always true. The purer the blood, the redder the eyes are."

"There are a few other signs too," Sarah added. "Dark hair or black hair for all pure bloods. And the skin is always off in some way. We all live underground for the most part, but I could never get as pale as you. For those of darker complexions, it's harder to explain. It's just… off. Different somehow."

"In your case," Dr. Laban said, "there are three options. The most unlikely would be that this correlation means nothing. That even someone that is 1% Pēy can have pure-blood characteristics. The second option is that the correlation is correct, and those correlations are very recessive. It's unlikely, but possible that your parents are both partly Pēy, a small part, and it just so happens that they ended up with a Pēy-looking child. The last option is that your parents were both pure-blooded, but there is some kind of, and forgive my wording here, birth defect. Either way though, it should be a comfort to you to know that all of these options collaborate your story of being completely ignorant of any of this."

"How is that?" Griffin responded.

"The Pēy view humans as weak. After all, they are extremely strong; almost indestructible," Laban replied. "Any mixing of Pēy and human blood is shameful to them. Many of the volunteers we get here have stories of being kicked to the outskirts of a Pēy city, or banned all together, just for being weaker than them. In any of the options I gave, it makes sense that you would have been given up for adoption, at least in their eyes."

Griffin was unsure of what to make from that news. Abandoned for being weak? He certainly felt lots of self-demoralizing emotions growing up, but weak hadn't crossed his mind much. He was weak, perhaps, in a way where he let others' glances and whispers affect him. Weak to his own temper, to his own sadness. But a physical weakness?

"I'm sure this is a lot to take in," Laban said, "and I'm sure this is terrible timing on my part, but I would like to invite you to come back here again. We won't be departing from this base for a few months, and any information we can gather is a great help."

"Why?" Griffin asked. "For what purpose is any of this? Do you hunt them down or…?"

They both looked uncomfortable again. Griffin prepared himself for an unfavorable answer.

"We told you that the Pēy dislike humans," Sarah said, "but it's more like a hatred. They feel as if we taken their rightful place from them, and that we have no right to stop them from fulfilling their… true natures."

Griffin didn't respond but waited silently for her to explain instead. His stomach felt sick as he imagined what her response might be. His mind pushed up memories of his childhood, of his anger. Faces of people he tortured ran through his head as he fought them back, trying not to remember. He swallowed hard and waited.

"Another strong correlation is violence. Pure bloods seem to fall into the sociopath category, and enjoy the suffering of others, usually focusing on humans. Thieves, rapists, and murders are a few names people like to call them, but even hundreds of years ago, 'demons' was a better way to sum that up. And with how cunning, smart, and powerful they are, they're difficult to stop. But that's what we're here to do. That's why we need this information."

Again, Griffin couldn't find a way to respond. On one hand, he had thought that it would give him some sort of relief to hear those words. To know that it wasn't his fault that he had been so out of control. But the other part of him only heard despair. The battle that he was trying to fight within himself was hopeless. It was written in his DNA that he would be nothing more than a demon.

But then again, hadn't he been treated like one regardless of his actions? He had gone against his 'true nature' but strangers still judged him as if he hadn't. These people admitted it themselves that they had little information about the Pēy. They could be wrong about their true nature, and they could be wrong about him.

However, while Griffin thought these things over, none of it displayed on his face. Though the furrow in Griffin's brow was only from inner turmoil, from Sarah and Laban's perspective Griffin looked unamused, unsatisfied, and worst of all, deeply offended. An automatic response triggered in them, and they could not help feeling anything but fear.

The hair on the back of their necks stood up, as if they've been threatened. Their skin rapidly tightened into goose bumps, their heart beats quicken, and their muscles contracted, ready to get up and flee at any moment. When Griffin moved to put on his jacket, they both instinctively jumped up. Griffin was either too used to the reaction or too involved in his own thoughts to notice.

Politely, Griffin offered his hand to the doctor and thanked him. Laban struggled not to let his hand shake as he took Griffin's and reminded him once again that he was welcome back at any time.

As Sarah followed Griffin out in order to escort him back to the surface, she couldn't help but notice that her fear was being replaced by overwhelming guilt. Just like when she had wrongly accused him of hurting Mandy, she felt like her actions were inexcusable, despite knowing that they were also unintentional. As they walked out of the 33 in silence, she struggled to figure out a way to apologize to him, or somehow explain to Griffin that she was trying. While every instinct of hers told her to run, she desperately wanted to trust him.

The elevator was getting closer and closer, however, and she couldn't find her nerve. Instead, she tried to proposition Griffin one more time.

"Do you have plans after college?" she asked him, and he shook his head in response. "You could always enlist here. It would work like other branches of the military. Whenever your term is up, we can help you afford college, get a job, you name it."

"I have no interest in fighting," he replied bluntly. The elevator dinged and the doors slid open, but as Griffin tried to walk in, Sarah moved in front of him.

"And you wouldn't have to," she protested. "I give you my word, if you enlisted with us, you would work with Dr. Laban only. Do you have your phone with you?"

Hesitantly, Griffin reached into his pocket and gave it to her. She took it and quickly typed in her information.

"Just think about it. Please?" she begged. "Like the doctor said, we'll be here for a little bit. Just about a week after your graduation. If you have any questions or if you change your mind, you can contact me."

When Griffin nodded, she stepped out of his way and let him into the elevator. As the doors closed between them, Sarah still didn't have a clue on whether he would contact her or not.

To be fair, neither did Griffin.

As the elevator went up, Griffin noticed that the ride was a lot longer than he remembered on his way down. When he came into the waiting room, the reception window was empty. Outside the now unlocked door, it was night. There was a little comfort in knowing that he wasn't the only thing that felt changed.

He checked his phone for Sarah's information when he noticed that Mandy had texted him. It wasn't a worried or suspicious text, but instead a detailed shopping list and a plea for Griffin to pick up groceries. He quickly replied that he would, got in his car, and headed for downtown.

It was Mandy's wish to only shop locally. She detested shopping in big chain supermarkets when she was looking after her sister's children and couldn't afford to go anywhere else. Now that it was just her and Griffin, it was in their budget, and in Mandy's mind, to boycott all big businesses. The shop keeper of the small, downtown grocery didn't appreciate this as much, as he always assumed that Griffin was there to steal something. But despite the man's cold welcome, Griffin always went there anyways. One glare was better than hundreds in a crowded warehouse.

As he got out of his car, Griffin thought he saw movement in the corner of his eye, but when he turned to look, he saw nothing. The downtown area was not as lit as other areas were, and the buildings where surrounded by more greenery. The movement could have been the swaying of a tree, so he shrugged it off and went inside.

While he paced down aisles, looking for the items in Mandy's list, he tried to come to a firm conclusion about his day. It felt so unreal. He lived his entire life without meeting someone who looked even slightly like he did, but now there was supposed to be a whole civilization? An underground city too, with people who could outrun and outthink anyone, without breaking bones or ever getting sick?

But he couldn't ignore what he saw with his own eyes. The train, the military people in that base, and all of that equipment had been real. It seemed too expensive and too elaborate to be some kind of joke. As much as he hated to admit it, the only logical conclusion would be to assume that they were telling the truth.

That didn't mean he had to enlist, though he didn't have many other options. He had no other job he knew he wanted to do; no college he had his eyes set on. Maybe enlisting could give him the time to think about what he wanted to do with his life. It could extend the deadline past graduation. The biggest issue would be convincing Mandy that he actually wanted to, without tipping her off on the real reason why. He desperately never wanted to lie to her again.

Suddenly, a loud crash was heard from the aisle next him that made him stop in his tracks. He was sure that he was the only customer in the store when he came in. Had he been so deep in thought that he didn't hear someone else come inside? It seemed unlikely; the front door had a very loud bell on it.

Curious, Griffin walked over to the next aisle, only to find a very guilty looking face staring back. It was Caleb, clutching jars of peanut butter that he must have dropped to his chest. His red hair was disheveled and his face was red with shame, though Griffin couldn't figure out why for. He also seemed to be on edge.

As Griffin looked him over to figure out what exactly was happening, Caleb saw his blank expression as another challenge and very quickly tried to be casual.

"I-I'm not following you," he said, louder than he meant to. "Just in case you're thinking that."

Griffin now thought that Caleb had been following him.

"I'm just shopping too, so you can go now."

Griffin nodded, turned, and went back down his aisle. However, this was not the response Caleb was hoping for. He followed Griffin into the aisle.

"But since we are both here," Caleb said to him, despite all the signs that Griffin had no interest in talking, "how was the trip to the base?"

"I thought you weren't following me," Griffin said, but didn't bother to look up. He only grabbed another item, put it into his basket, and continued walking without bothering to see if Caleb would follow.

"I only heard about it, I didn't see you go there," Caleb answered, close behind. "You didn't answer my question."

Griffin sighed and answered honestly with as little words as he thought he could get away with. "It was impressive and informative."

"It's a military base," Caleb replied, offended for whatever reason. "A secret one that you infiltrated."

"I was invited," Griffin corrected.

"By my sister whom you completely fooled into thinking you're ignorant," he countered. "But I'm not stupid, and I'm not going to let you go and tell your friends all of our secrets."

Griffin now thought that Caleb was stupid.

It seemed pointless to argue with him, so Griffin stayed quiet and let Caleb hurl insults at him while he finished shopping. When he got to the checkout counter, the shopkeeper chose not to interrupt their argument and quickly rung him up. Caleb was too busy talking to remember to put back the peanut butter in his grasp, so Griffin carefully took it from him, paid for it, and passed it back to him when they were back outside.

"Wait," Caleb said when he finally noticed. "I didn't want this."

"It seemed like you were going to walk out without paying for it," Griffin answered and started walking to his car. Across the street he saw a girl, around his age, talking to a guy a little bit older. Something about her body language made it look like she was uncomfortable.

"Give me the receipt, I'll return it. I don't want to owe a Pēy anything," Caleb said, but Griffin wasn't paying attention anymore. He couldn't make out what the man was saying to her, but she kept shaking her head, and he kept stepping closer to her.

As if feeling Griffin's eyes on him, the man turned and met his gaze. He smiled, however, and winked at Griffin, as if everything were alright. The girl's face said the exact opposite. Griffin started to cross the street.

When he stepped forward, Caleb grabbed his arm, forcing Griffin to face him. "Hello? Can you hear me? The receipt, now."

Griffin quickly turned back to the couple but when he looked they were no longer there. Just an empty sidewalk in front of a dark, un-open store front.

"Where'd they go?" Griffin asked no one in particular. He was starting to feel a strange panic.

"Where did who go?" Caleb answered.

"There was a man over there," he pointed. "He was with a girl. They were right there. Where did he go?"

He looked over at Caleb, half expecting him to call him crazy, but Caleb's expression remained serious. Without saying another word, Caleb shoved the jar back into Griffin's arms and started to cross the street. Throwing the groceries into his car, Griffin soon followed, jogging to catch up.

"You didn't see which way they went?" Caleb asked him when they got to the spot where the couple once stood. Griffin shook his head. "You stay here. I'm going to look down the alley."

Caleb reached into his jeans then and pulled out a gun, much to Griffin's surprised. Caleb didn't look like the type to be armed, though he guessed that he should have know since Caleb was military. However, he had no intention of staying still and walked close behind Caleb as they peered into the alley way. With his gun in hand, Caleb peered in first, finding nothing to aim at.

"Do you see anything?" Caleb said to Griffin.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you have better eyesight than me, genius."

Griffin looked but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two brick buildings casted a dark shadow into the already dark night. All he could see were the fire escapes that snaked up the buildings' sides and the dark outline of two large, industrial garbage bins. Could he really see better than Caleb?

"I guess you wouldn't tell on your relatives, though, would you?" Caleb retorted.

Griffin decided to ignore his insults again. "You think that man was Pēy?"

"It fits doesn't it?" Caleb said, lowering his weapon and making his way down to the next alley way. "The murders of all those girls happened around here, and now you saw a man that can run out of sight in the blink of an eye?"

Griffin agreed it seemed weird but said nothing. He had been to so many states, so many places, without ever seeing Pēy. It would be too ironic that he would now run into one by mistake. Plus, the man he saw looked normal enough. Maybe he imagined it.

When Caleb peered into the next alley, there was nothing to be seen in it either. He sighed.

"I'm going to go back the other way, he probably didn't come this direction, but why don't you check the next one, just in case," Caleb suggested.

"Because I don't have a weapon," Griffin stated.

"You are the weapon, moron," Caleb answered, not looking back as he walked away.

Griffin thought about staying put, but then reminded himself it was probably nothing. If he didn't go, Caleb would just accuse him of helping the Pēy again. And if it was really a Pēy, he probably did go the other direction, just as Caleb said.

Taking a deep breath, Griffin worked up his nerve and walked to the next alley.

When he peered over, he felt his shoulders relax as he saw nothing. Another boring, dark, creepy alley, and another fresh whiff of garbage. He looked down the street but could no longer see Caleb. He was hoping that he had the same luck, or that at least he could handle himself. Griffin decided to walk back to make sure he was alright.

Then there was a noise.

It was quiet, muffled, but definitely a girl's voice. It was as if she screamed, but someone covered her mouth. Griffin's heart quickened and looked down the alley again. There was just a hint of movement, something behind the garbage can, but it was too dark to make out. He was unsure what to do. He could call for Caleb, but what if it scared the man into killing her? Quietly, he crept towards where he thought they were.

As he got closer, the muffled screamed got louder, and he could hear the man shushing her.

"Quiet now," the man told her. "It'll all be over soon."

The man was now in Griffin's view. He huddled over the girl, sitting on her so that she couldn't move, his hand over her mouth just as Griffin predicted. In the other hand, the man had a small knife that he pressed against her throat.

Griffin's next step was too loud, and the man looked up. At first he looked surprised, but then annoyed. "Get lost," he told Griffin. "I don't need your help."

Help? Why did the man think that Griffin would help him? Out of his fear grew a flame of anger, and he thought about doing a thousand things, but none that would help the man. Was he Pēy? The man's eyes were dark, but not red. His hair was a sandy blonde, not dark. He thought Griffin would help him?

"Let. Her. Go," Griffin said between his teeth. His fists tightened and his pulse raced. It took everything in his power not to try to rip the man off of the girl. He was too afraid that the man would accidentally cut her if he were too rash. He needed to try and threaten him first.

The man laughed. "You want me to let her go?"

"Caleb!" Griffin called out, and to his relief, he heard the sound of running footsteps in reply.

The man looked to the entrance of the alley and saw Caleb run in, gun in hand. His expression seemed scared, and Griffin started to feel more relief. He would surrender now. The girl would be okay.

The man did not share these thoughts.

"Fuck," he exclaimed, and in one quick movement, slit the girl's throat.

As Griffin looked in horror, the man quickly got to his feet and pushed past him, reaching for the ladder of the fire escape. Just as quickly, Griffin kneeled down by the girl and grasped her throat, trying to hold down pressure without choking her. Blood seeped through his fingers and tears streamed down her face as she choked. Behind them, Griffin could hear the loud banging of Caleb's gun firing as he tried to shoot the man running up the building.

"CALEB!" Griffin yelled at him. "Stop shooting and call for a fucking ambulance!"

Immediately, Caleb put down his weapon and called 911.