Chapter Four
Ralph was silent today. He nibbled on a cherry.
Vanellope griped, mumbling to herself. The tension in the room was so thick you could've cut it with a knife. The room they were staying in was bland, with nothing out of place. It was a wooden cabin, but he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She was eating her favorite delicacy, a moist, mouthwatering chocolate cake with fudge gushing inside. Strangely, however, she was picking at it, not bothering to take a bite. Ralph understood. It was hard to eat when your stomach was knot into a tight ball of fury.
Finally, she spoke.
"It isn't fair!" her voice was loud and commanding, not in the mood for fun and games. "I mean, she looks the same age as me! They can't do this! It's illegal! We have to do something, Ralph!" she was begging him to speak up, to tell her she was right, to pat her on the back and listen to her complain, just like all those other times.
But Ralph was busy thinking. His mind kept coming back to the man with the unexplainably greasy hair, and his smooth and calm voice. Ralph wanted to punch him with his incredibly large fist, and that had to hurt. But he found himself defending him. "We can't do anything." Vanellope surged forward, agitated, but Ralph spoke over her. "There's nothing saying that slaves aren't illegal. We can't do anything." He had a ball of hopelessness in his stomach.
Vanellope was yelling now. "We have to do something! Ralph, we have to help her!" she stared at him defiantly. "I'm going to rescue her. I'm going to do it. Just because you're too chicken doesn't mean I'll quit!" she screamed in his face. She calmed down, her fire extinguishing at once. "Ralph," she pleaded. "Can we at least see her and talk to her? Please. We need to do something." Her voice was calmer and gentler now, but just as desperate. Ralph stared at her eyes, big and soft. Sighing, he shrugged.
"Okay, but one talk, okay?" he pointed a finger at her "One talk, and after that we'll see." Vanellope flashed her pearly whites.
"You have yourself a deal! Oh, Ralph, we'll do great!"
Ralph tried to go to bed, but his mind wouldn't stop thinking. He kept seeing that girl's cry for help, lost in the people's cheers of joy. It must've felt betraying when the people there cried out with glee as you fell, your consciousness slipping. Ralph tried to fluff his pillow by hitting it a few times, but he broke it on accident, sending an array of feathers into the air. He found the more he tried to sleep the more it evaded him. Soon he couldn't stand still. He was pacing around his dorm, which felt more like prison. He felt terror-stricken, fear flowing through his veins. He wondered what had happened to the girl. Why, when she glitched, did it hurt her? He had never heard of anything like that ever happening before in the arcade. Then again, he hadn't known glitches existed until he met Vanellope. Groaning from annoyance, he dropped like a rock, feeling himself slip through the cracks of sleep.
He was asleep before he hit the ground.
The next morning, Vanellope was waiting for him. "Stink brain." She acknowledged him. "Today's the day we speak to glitch-girl." she said. She wasn't happy, but she seemed well-rested and ready. Plucking a cherry from the fridge, he actually ate the whole thing, mainly because he was starving, having not eaten anything yesterday. Vanellope had leftover cake, too, letting the now cold melted chocolate slide down her throat. Ralph found himself changed into clothes soon after. He stared down at himself. Had he changed and taken a shower? He felt refreshed, but he couldn't remember it. The memories were blurred up. Vanellope's mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear the words. Unsure of what to do, he blankly followed her.
When they arrived at the stadium, the man wasn't there, thankfully, or else Ralph would've beaten him to a pulp. He stared at the rope as if it had teeth, dangling harmlessly in the air. Vanellope jumped up and grabbed it; her feet not anywhere near the ground. Her arms and legs were wrapped around it like a vice. "Um, Ralph? Little help?" the place was empty, so Ralph took one hand and pulled it downward, shaking the girl off and tumbling onto the floor. The black veil, to Ralph's horror, lifted, and he didn't think he could bear seeing the little girl again. She was there alright. Her eyes were closed, and her legs pulled up close to her chest. She didn't seem to notice them. "What do you want?" her voice was nice and melodic, soft and high like a bird.
"Hi there. What's your name?" Vanellope was right on the ball.
"None of your business." Very polite, this girl was.
"Hey, she reminds me of someone." Ralph muttered, and she scowled. Again, Vanellope tried to create a conversation.
"How are you?"
"Who needs to know?"
"Hey, girl!" Ralph finally snapped. "Who are you?"
She looked up. That face… "Who do you think?" she asked. After a short pause though, she added, "I'm Kathleen Monique Aria."
"Well, Kathleen." Vanellope piped up, eager as ever. "We're here to save you!"
"Excuse me?" she snapped. "I don't need saving. I'm…not like you."
"WE know!" just to prove her point, she glitched for a second. Kathleen's eyes widened.
"You…but how…" then she jumped up, clearly alarmed.
Before he could ask but was wrong, though, another voice, smooth and oily, spoke.
"Well, what do we have here?"
