Chapter 27

The woman knelt beside the wrecked machine and inspected it carefully. Its arms were mangled in all directions while its face laid on its side. Red rust clumped at the joints as its outer shell withered away with the slightest of touch. What snatched away Emma’s attention was not the debilitated condition of the mechanical creature but the dent at the side of its head.

“What are you doing?” Anya asked as she hovered over the unmoving pile of metal.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” Emma questioned, her thumb pressed against her chin. “The window shattered right when the machine lost balance… as if someone had shot it.” The woman pointed at the damaged side of the machine’s head. “I think that’s where it hit, but I can’t find the projectile.”

“Maybe it’s one of the mercenaries?” While kneeling, Anya touched the dent with her index finger.

“No one else left the vehicle with me.” Emma estimated the trajectory of the projectile and traced it back through the window. Roughly half a mile away from her location stood a clock tower. “From there…” She pulled the radio out of her pocket and spoke into it. “This is Emma, if anyone is out there then please respond.”

“...”

Nothing.

She tucked the device away. “Still nothing, we need to get moving. Come on, Anya, let’s get out of here.”

“...”

“Anya?” The child did not respond, thus Emma called out again.

“Huh?” Anya quickly stood up and then patted the dust off her cloak. “Y-Yeah, let’s go.”

The girl seemed unsettled, her hand wrapped tightly around her arm.

“Anya, what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing is wrong.” The child diverted her eyes as she spoke. “I’m just a little ti-”

“There’s no reason to lie.” Emma gently rubbed Anya’s head. “I know you’re scared, but I need you to trust me.”

“I do trust you!”

“Then please, tell me what’s on your mind.”

“It’s just that…” Anya shook her head subtly. “There’s a tradition in my town where we honor those who died horribly... so that... they may find peace in the afterlife. I feel like I should be the one since I...”

Anya lowered her head, for those unspoken words were obvious.

“Alright, this place should be safe, now that both of the machines are gone. It wouldn’t hurt.” The woman offered her hand to Anya. “Let’s get going.”

***

If she was to be honest with herself, Anya would have preferred not to return to this forsaken room. She had to, however, as there was something that needed to be done. The blue cloth that once hid the corpse’s body laid on the floor, saturated with various fluids. Its scent was no better than before, but at least the flesh was not rotten.

The child’s stomach felt empty, and her abdomen plagued with a slight but sharp pain.

“Please…” Anya muttered. “Leave the room… It’s not something I’m supposed to show others...”

“Alright… I’ll be outside if you need me.” Emma turned around and exited the room.

Anya hesitated, she checked multiple times to make sure that her companion could not see her. The back of her cloak and dress lifted simultaneously as her tail rose up behind her.

“I’m sorry…” Anya whispered. “I can’t let it happen again…”

Her fists tightened as her tail approached the carcass. Carefully, she carved out a small piece of the flesh. The child knew she had to be as quiet as possible, but at the same time, avoid creating a mess; otherwise, Emma may learn of her heinous compulsion. Anya stared at the chunk of meat within her hand. The fear of being discovered rendered her void of any appetite.

“I have to do it…” The girl mumbled, then she shoved the morsel into her orifice before chewing.

Raw, chewy, moist, bitter, but with slight hints of sweetness.

She had waited too long, for most of the cells had died, ensuring that the meat tasted no better than its unprocessed animal counterpart. Anya gagged at the grotesque blend of flavors, but her hands covered her mouth, leaving her throat to be the only path the meat could follow. She chewed and nibbled until her eyes began to tear up, before she was finally able to force the mush down. The girl wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and carved out another piece as she needed more.

It was said that the first time would be the hardest, but Anya soon found those words to be nothing but lies. Knowing the taste, the texture, and how it felt made her queasy just by looking at the pulp. To cope with this, the child closed her eyes and imagined a better time, back when her father would cook for her, before he became too busy to tend to his own beloved child…

It was a calm night, the aroma of spices and seasoning saturated their small kitchen. Her father, in his usual pink apron, stood in front of the stove preparing their dinner. That night was special as it was Anya’s birthday and her father had arranged something special. With what money they could spare, with the money Ethan had saved, they were able to purchase meat just for her birthday. Anya would watch as her father sautéed the meat and the vegetables within their deteriorating pan. She whiffed at every opportunity, not wanting to waste even the smell. When the dish was finally ready, she sat joyously at her seat, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Here you go, Anya,” her father would tell her, “It’s all yours.”

She remembered how excited and bewildered she was, that her father had done all that just for her.

“What about you, Daddy?” Anya would ask.

“I’m fine. Today is your special day, so you can have all of it.” He would answer with a smile although it was obvious that he wanted to sample some as well.

“No! I’ll only eat it if you eat it with me!” The child would always puff her cheeks whenever she wanted something from her father as she knew that it was his weakness. Of course, Ethan would always cave in.

“Fine, fine. But you’re going to have to eat most of it.”

“Uh-huh!” Anya nodded before offering the first piece to her father.

“Mmmm. Not bad, if I do say so myself.”

Anya would giggle at his shameless boasts. That day was the happiest day of her life. Nothing else mattered that day; it was just her and her father, together as a family. Her body felt warm, whether it was the heat emitted from the fireplace or her father’s affection, she didn’t care. Finally, she lifted the meat with her utensil, all the while wishing the dream would last forever. Unfortunately, with the first bite, the illusion was shattered and she returned to the miserable reality, desecrating what remained of another man.

The child wept silently.

“I’m terrible...” She mumbled, for Anya could no longer remember her father's face.

...

It took a while before the child finally left the room. Her eyes were swollen and red while her expressions were sickly and miserable, prompting Emma to wonder what went on in there. She respected Anya’s privacy, however, so she neither attempted to eavesdrop nor question her.

“Do you feel alright?”

“...” Anya’s eyes averted to the floor.

“You don’t have to tell me anything.”

The child suddenly embraced Emma at the waist with both arms, pressing her face into the fabric of the woman’s cloak. Though baffled at first, Emma quickly understood.

“Letting go of the past is never easy.” She gently stroked the child’s hair, “There’s no need to hold back, Anya.”

“No,” Anya shook her head, wiping her face on Emma’s clothing. “I’m fine… now…”

***

Exiting through the front door was out of the question as the reinforced glass proved too difficult to break. Although the .50 Caliber HEAPI rounds would make short work of their obstacle, Emma only had three shots remaining, which was not enough to expend generously and needlessly. It was necessary for the two to find another way out of the building. Luckily, a solution had presented itself.

“A-Are you sure this is safe...?” Anya questioned, her hands trembled, but she did not dare to loosen her grasp.

“If the rope held for me, then you should be fine.”

“B-But…” Anya glanced below, causing her stomach to turn. Ever since her previous altercation, her tolerance for heights had stagnated substantially. The fact that her safety was literally in her hands did not help in the matter.

“Just keep your head facing forward and don’t look down!” Emma shouted as her hands formed a makeshift megaphone. “It’s only three floors! You won’t die from that!”

“B-B-Broken bones aren’t any better!”

Sigh. “Anya, I’ll catch you if you fall! Just descend slowly, a little at a time!”

It was unfortunate, but this was their only way down. The two had checked the first and second floors to find that the glass panels were heavily reinforced. In fact, they were fortified to a point where the glass could not be broken even by their pistols. Emma also tried throwing heavy objects, but that proved to be a waste of their time and strength. So, in a last-ditch effort, they returned to the shattered window on the third floor. Using various pieces of fabric knotted together, a makeshift rope was created. Emma had full faith in her creation, but Anya was not so trusting.

Just look forward and slowly go down. Anya thought to herself. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.

Anya looked down.

“I-I-I can’t do this!” Her arms began to wobble. “H-Help me!”

“Anya, you’re do-”

The child had slipped and began to scream. Emma frantically rushed below to where Anya would fall and braced herself. She held her arms out and waited for the approximant moment of contact before lowering herself in an attempt to distribute the force. Otherwise, a hard stop in her arms would have been more harmful to the both of them than just landing on the concrete ground below.

“See, I told you I would catch you.”

The girl slowly opened her eyes. It was not the softest of landings, but she was in no position to complain.

“T-Thanks…” Her face blushed, for it had been a while since she was last carried like a princess. When Anya was younger, her father would often carry her off to bed whenever she had fallen asleep while reading her journal.

“Please let me down...” She pleaded.

Once on the ground, the child scouted the premise. Surprisingly, despite the noise she had made, there was not a single machine to be spotted.

“How’s your arm?” Anya questioned.

The woman curled up her fist and rotated her arm around her shoulders. “It’ll hold. You’re lighter than you look.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The child said, her face now in a callow scowl.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just lighter than what I had expected a child of your size to be.” Emma hunched over and gently pinched the little girl’s cheeks. “Your skin is also pretty soft for someone who wanders the wastes. What’s your secret?”

“Wah, I dwat knwol!”

A wide smile appeared on the woman’s face as she continued to play with the girl’s cheeks as if shaping delicate dough.

“Stawp it!”

“Oops.” After realizing what she had been doing for the past minute, Emma immediately released her hands. “Sorry, I lost myself for a moment.”

“That hurt!” The child protested while massaging her bright red cheeks. “Shouldn’t we be going?”

“Yeah,” Emma gazed at the distant clock tower. “We have quite the distance to cover. Let’s get going.” She walked a few steps before realizing that Anya did not follow, instead, the girl glared at the window from whence they came.

“Anya...?”

“C-Coming!” The child hastily dashed toward Emma and grabbed her hand.

“Is everything alright, Anya?”

“I-I’m fine, don’t worry.”

That was a lie. Anya knew she should not have looked back, but she failed to heed her own advice. Back when they were within the building, Anya had noticed something strange: the dead machine’s facial features were different. Initially, she thought and hoped that maybe it was a simple mistake, yet the unsettling feeling lurked in the back of her mind. All became clear when she glanced at the fragmented window whose fading luminance had now completely vanished. The child stared at the horrors they had left behind only to find that the horrors… they stared back at her.