I.
She was running out of food.
The supply of bread and canned food lasted enough for the days to come, but the needs of necessities were running out quick.
Isabella twisted the pen cap and sighed. There was no point in resting if she was still near that damned plantation.
Maybe if she was far enough, perhaps she can find a nice nap.
"William Minerva," Isabella mumbled, warily. It's been less than five days and she misses her soft mattress. "William Minerva, I hope to see you at shelter B06-32."
Unfortunately, all her thoughts of sleeping and searching for William Minerva were cut short as another wild demon screeched.
She had finally escaped the pact of ravenous demons chasing after her.
Isabella released a heavy sigh, her back laid against the bark of the tree, tensed. Her brown eyes watching the bounding pack going elsewhere.
When they were out of her sight, like a puppet cut from its strings she collapsed face down on the large thick branch.
"Thank you," She whispered, her eyes watching the dancing rays of sunlight peaking from the leaves of the tree. "Thank you for keeping me alive…"
Then, she blacked out.
Isabella woke up to a small mask with two eye holes staring back at her.
She let out a high-pitched shriek, which in turn the latter emitted a low pitched whine. They dropped the flower, kicking up their unusual shaped feet in the air as they landed on their bottom. Then, their tiny body proceeded to hang over the branch.
It would be unfortunate if the demon child were to fall from such a large height.
The Grace Field escapee gingerly grasped the demon by its sleeve, positioning it in a more balanced perch on the tree.
"Thank you!" Isabella was startled by the squeaky voice that emitted from the tiny demon as it waved the weed.
It looked harmless, she noted, but looks can be deceiving. The love and playfulness that was produced by Mama and Sister Elizabeth over the years were examples. Those memories were now faint and blurry, the kind smiles replaced with something more sinister.
"Ne, ne, you have any food?" The demon asked casually. On cue, its stomach growled insistently. Isabella stiffened, the crushing weight that finally dawned on her.
'Maybe I should've let you drop.'
"No."
"Oh." The child deflated, fiddling with the weed. "I haven't seen my father in days!"
"...Oh." Isabella echoed. The urge to get away now was pushing her to continue on her search but for some reason, she can't.
The demon nodded, a tiny claw scratching its mask in a sheepish manner. "Mmhm! I think it's kind of my fault. I ran away from the camp 'cuz I wasn't allowed to go out at all. Now, it's been a long time since I've seen my father. I wonder what he's doing."
Yes, this was actually a splendid reason to continue on and never look back. If an intelligent demon was out here, roaming the forest outskirts of the plantations and looking for its offspring it would give her the push to get out of this stupid forest.
Isabella couldn't die here, even after when she escaped from Mama when she saw the gap between the orphanage and the outskirt lands.
She promised Leslie, after all.
She brought herself to her feet, her limbs sore. The plantation-born girl ignored it, ignored the demon's questionable actions as she hefted up her bag. Isabella pulls out the rock-tied-rope she used in her escape and aimed it at the nearby branch. As it successfully wrapped around the bark, she pulled at it and brightly smiled.
Isabella let herself fall forward, manipulating the rope to pull her forward to the next branch.
However, she didn't foresee that the small demon would grab onto her.
"No!" It hugged her leg, its claws gripping firmly if not a little tight to her calf as Isabella tried to shake the child off of her.
It was a comical sight. Hysterical and unbelievable that someone-anyone or anything that can come across the pair can't believe both prey and predator were together.
II.
Nestio destroyed the camp in a fit of rage when he realized Ravalima's presence was nowhere in the area.
He gathered the small items and abandoned the rest as he set out in search of his only offspring.
The emotions and hallucinations clouded his senses.
What if a Wild devoured her already? Whatifwhatifwhatif
Nestio takes a big sniff out of the wide-open mouth of the ninth dead demon corpse he's killed in a short amount of time. The thing was clean, her scent wasn't anywhere on it.
He kicks it away from him in disgust, resuming his search. He leaves a sea of carnage behind him as he goes on.
III.
Ravalima was living the dream.
She clutched the leg of the human girl who swung from branch to branch with the help of exploding water bottles that launched like rockets.
Every time a bottle was thrown and launched, she couldn't help but let out a squeal of amazement at the creation. It catapulted a rope from the inside, a rock tied around it to prevent the rope from falling out and hooked on its desired place.
Ravalima never saw such things from her memories! It was amazing!
"Huh?" She glanced up, staring at the human girl. "Why did we stop?" The human girl brought a finger to her lips, shushing her. Ravalima formed an 'O' with her mouth and vigorously bobbed her head.
Down below were humanoid demons and other demons that looked similar to wolves in a pack.
"Did you find it?" Ravalima hears, thanks to her enhanced hearing.
"No, but 73584's scent is near."
"Well, find it then! There is an unwelcome visitor who is roaming around, and we'd best get 73584 without a scratch."
73584, the human girl, prepares another bottle launcher. Ravalima, the one who gives in to her childish whims, grabs onto her bag. The escapee gives her a bewildered look, her posture still tense and uncomfortable, but doesn't say anything.
She fires it, and they were off with the pack of wolves following them on the ground.
IV Bonus: Human Meat
After getting all of the things her father needed, they were back on the road when the sky turned from day to night.
By the time she thinks was midnight, they stopped by a hallow cave that seemed to go endlessly. Her father quickly sets up camp, putting down his spears and bags on the dirt ground. He didn't look at her, or, well, his masked-face wasn't in her direction but his long forefingers pinched her clothing and placed her on a plain white blanket.
He proceeds to take out the little wooden tableware.
Oh, and don't forget the capsules of human limbs.
Ravalima thinks about how fast the day had gone by so quickly. Just early afternoon she discovered there were more of masked monsters and their main dish were-Oh, I don't know, humans.
That probably means humanity is at the bottom of the food chain now, 'ey?
Well, that is assuming they were the only superior race at the top.
The worst part was, however, if she was one of them she'd have to eat. And she was a human in her past life.
Was that considered cannibalism?
Just then, her father drops five very human fingers with a splat.
For once, she's glad she has a mask on because it hid the light gag.
But it smelled so good.
When she was human, looking at a piece of raw meat didn't bother her in the slightest. Cooking it. Eating it. All the while knowing it was once a living, breathing sentient being.
"Eat," He taps her plate with one hand, the other holding another with what looked like a whole human brain. "I used to love eating the fingers as a youngling."
She lightly nodded, putting up the act of an obedient child while mentally screaming, Holyfuckingshit that's an actual brain and Are you crazy it's bloody and raw.
A part of her brain-Oh my god-supplied her with a small flashback to a conversation she had with a friend, "Chicken brains taste like chicken nuggets, but a bit fatty though."
Ravalima gave a shudder, despite the fingers on the plate was her midnight snack.
Food was food, she recalled a voice faintly. She realized she vaguely remembers the owner.
There was blood. So much blood.
On her father's clothes, staining his mask as a tongue protruded out and licked it clean.
Reluctantly, she grabbed a pinky. Ravalima could see the ridges and lines that made up the finger. There was no fingernail, only the bleeding pink space that the nail once protected.
She quickly shoved it in her mouth and chewed it. She couldn't help but wince when she felt the bones crack in her mouth and bits and pieces going down her esophagus.
Ravalima handed her plate to her father, the childish whine escaping her throat. The gesture of wanting seconds.
It wasn't… bad.
But it certainly wasn't something she'd get use to.
V.
The windmill girl, as he dubbed her, promptly told him to stay put in the windmill until the coast was all clear.
Meaning, if you don't hear any music, you're free to do whatever.
The music was loud and obnoxious. Despite having the blaring speakers down the hill of the windmill, the shaken boy hugged his legs.
Windmill girl spoke out, gently, softly, "They won't find us here. I promise." She soothed.
That did nothing, his back slumped against the brick interior wall of the tower. The soft black hat laid next to him, scratches covered the once unblemished hat his foster mother had given him.
Was it all a lie? The adoption? Our life?
The nine-year-old boy closed his light brown eyes shut.
"You're in Goldy Pond. A secret hunting ground for those monsters."
He recalled the towering figure with high posture. A flash of black, and sharp lengthy fingers that split a boy younger than himohpleasedon'tseeus-
"What-" He struggled to form his words, "What are those monsters?" Wait, that wasn't it. "I mean-"
The dark-skinned girl's mouth twitched into a small smile, but it quickly disappeared. "Demons. Monsters. Or Gods, as humankind had once revered them as. They survive by devouring the flesh of humankind. You and other millions of plantation-born children are raised to appease their appetite."
The windmill girl then added, in a low mumble, "Every two months children are shipped here. Forcibly dragged, or bought by those Poachers." He was startled by the bark of a laugh coming from the girl. "You seem to be one of the lucky ones, though. You have any memory of what happened before coming here, hm?"
"I…"
("To get one outside of the 6-year-old and 12-year-old range, Lord Bayon. It is unlikely." A curve of a malicious smile. The sepia haired woman pushed him towards the towering monster.
"Lucas, this is the Lord and aristocrat Bayon. He's been keeping an open eye for you, and he will be bringing you somewhere very special.")
He croaked out, "No, no I don't remember."
She gives him a pitiful look with her icy colored eyes, "You're just like all the others, then."
I saw this picture on Tumblr with the full score trio. I think it's where Emma and Norman are surrounding Ray in a little corner. That's kind of what reminds me of what Isabella was going through with Ravalima.