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Chapter 7
There are two types of people in this world: the type that saves a child crying for help and the type that doesn't.
It was a lofty, slightly pompous thing to think but as I stood outside of the dark building, a rusted metal gate firmly locked in front, I couldn't help but think of it. Distantly, I heard the quiet, hiccup of fresh sobs, the shuffle of feet on a bare floor.
A trap?
Maybe.
I bit at the bed of my nails, fresh tears coming to my eyes as the child's voice reached a new crescendo.
Why was I hesitating? This shouldn't be a question.
Distantly, I heard someone laughing, a car door slamming just down some far-off alley. Streetlights were dots off in the distance, brief respites from the humid darkness of the night. My mother had always told me that the hours past 12 am and before 5 were meant to weed out the sensible from the irrational. Only irrational people found themselves wandering under streetlamps and through darkened apartment complexes at this time. Only the truly irrational found themselves hurrying down alleyways that sectioned off the busy, more brightly lit section of the city to the darker, lonely suburbs of the housing area. Here houses sat wall to wall, small, dingy fences bracketing their small, dingy gardens off from the cramped streets.
And it was here, hurrying down the narrow sidewalk that I had first heard it-
"MAMAAAAAA!" I forced out a tight breath, the plastic 7/11 bag in my hand crinkling as my fingers convulsed on it. I couldn't - I couldn't think properly - not with the child crying and - and how tired I was. Sleep had been so hard to come by these past few weeks. I had taken to staying up, keeping my lights on and my headphones in or my tv on just so I wouldn't have to hear-
"MAMA!" the cry came again, growing and then dimming like raining picking up to pitter off into near silence. A shadow moved in one of the windows, the rest showing the blank darkness of an abandoned building.
My shoes scuffed against the concrete, the bag rustling restlessly to the cadence of my own uncertainty. The simple truth of the matter was that I wasn't sure if this was some new layer of insanity - a new level to the growing realms that were slowly unlocking in my reality. Every day had become a marathon - the streets outside my shop becoming littered with creatures that turned my very stomach and made my insides quiver in terror. There were monsters in this world. And no one could see them except for me.
Every day someone would walk in with something clinging to them, buzzing around them, murmuring and groaning things that didn't make sense. Lately, I had stopped even venturing out into the crowded shop, staying safely tucked into the hot confines of the back kitchen area. I could barely sleep, could barely look anyone in the eyes anymore-
"MAMAAAAAA!" I flinched, my teeth breaking through skin, the metal tang of copper bursting across my gums and to my tongue.
"Police," I whispered almost absently, turning quickly to an alleyway that ended in the bright lights of a busy street. I could go get help - that way, I could protect myself and the kid. I gulped, sweat starting to form around my collar. If there was a kid. If not, the police would dismiss me as a sleep-deprived woman, scared of. the dark. I could handle the embarrassment-
"NO PLEASE! DON'T HURT ME!" My stomach dropped, acid burning at the back of my throat at the sound of skin hitting skin. Jesus -
My fingers closed on cold metal, the rusted iron bars digging into my thigh and tearing at my leggings. The plastic bag made a clatter as it hit the sidewalk just outside of the fencing, tea and a few onigiris spilling out.
"What are you doing?" I whispered, hoisting myself up and over the fence, overgrown grass tickling my ankles just above my converse. I let out a shaky breath, eyeing the darkened windows. The door yawned in front of me, a startling blue against the surrounding shadows like a bird changing its color to draw in a mate. My fingers shook as a slight breeze rustled a gnarled tree nearby, making the branches rub together like hungry fingers preparing for a meal.
This place didn't feel empty. I let out a sharp breath, reaching out to twist open the door.
It felt so alive that it was almost stifling. So crowded with a boil of emotions that I didn't think that my own would be able to fit into it at all. Sudden, irrational tears burned at my eyes as the door swung open soundlessly. Why wasn't it locked? It should have been locked. Or… or maybe the child had been kidnapped and the kidnapper was using this place as a temporary home. My head spun over irrational thoughts - making up mysteries and storylines that were only half-believable. In the end, the whys and hows didn't matter anymore. Right when I had stepped into that yard, I had given up the luxury of treating this like a book that needed to be read through.
Right when I had stepped over into that yard, I had made sure that the only thing that really mattered was that there was a child that was being hurt. It didn't matter by who or for what reason. All that mattered was getting him and getting out.
The front door stepped down into a stone-tiled entryway, the hallway leading off to either side like the beginning guess at a sadistic game. In front of me, the wall was a mostly white, dirt and smears crusting it. Another sob ricocheted off of the walls, booming into the tiny entryway and making me jump.
I clamped my mouth shut around my own urge to cry out, calling for some unknown person to come and help. I was on my own. I was going to be the grown-up in this situation - the only one capable of getting us out of this. My gut tightened painfully as my whole body stilled, the sudden, blinding wish that I wasn't going to be that person and that there was someone else, someone better, someone more grown-up that could take care of this, making me freeze for a moment.
But it was only a moment.
I forced myself to gently slide off my converses, the cold floor jarring through the thin layer of my socks. If whoever was in here was bigger than me, then I would need the element of surprise. And that meant being quiet.
I bit down on the inside of my mouth, stepping as quietly as possible up the small steps and into the hall. To my right, the floor dipped down once more into the massive expanse of what looked to be the living room. The smell of mold bit at my nostrils, making the urge to get a clean breath of air almost stifling. Just passed the living room, pricks of light filtered in, casting odd shapes along the walls. It had to be a kitchen just beyond.
To my right, was a small almost cabinet-sized room, the windows blocked by newspaper. The hallway curved sharply, a door just past the first room ajar, giving a bleak glimpse of a sickeningly pink bathroom. And then - I gulped down a silent breath, creeping farther down the hall until a final room, the door almost completely shut came into view.
Oh god.
My insides quivered, a million tiny insect legs crawling along my intestines. There. Of course, the kid would be in one of the darkest, most secluded parts of the house. Fear shivered along my spine, making my lips quiver as I scooted a bit closer.
Silence.
So much silence.
Why had it become so quiet?
"MAmA~" My whole body froze, hand just an inch away from nudging the door open enough to get a bit of a glimpse inside.
The kid - I let out a shaky breath - the kid didn't sound right. Instead of the fear-addled cries of a distressed child, this call was different. Cajoling. Almost - Terror ran hot and cold circuits up my spine, all of the hairs at my nape standing on edge as I stared at the black stretch of space that was just open beyond the door. Playful.
Mistake. It beat at my head. I had made a terrible mistake.
"Mama." The doorknob turned, something soft and cracking like tiny leaves being crushed underfoot, echoed along the abandoned hallway. I couldn't move. Why couldn't I move? Oh god. Oh god. Heavy, panting breaths beat at me from just beyond the door. "Mama, mama, mama, mamamamammamamamamamama-"
The breaths stopped. I didn't blink. Didn't move a hair. I would stay here forever. Til morning. I would stay here - Hot tears blurred my vision. Was I going to die?
The door ripped away from the tips of my fingers, the wide darkness of the room yawning out in front of me like a mouth opening wide. Windows lined the master bedroom, paper torn from their glass and scattered all around to let in sharp lances of moonlight.
Not a child.
Not a child.
I was so stupid.
Sitting, saliva pooling from a wide, gaping hole that - from the tongue lulling out and onto the floor - was the mouth, a bulbous circle of meat twitched. Legs that seemed too skinny to hold up its weight scuttled forward, hands too skinny to grasp anything reaching out. And hanging like a grotesque antenna from the very crown of its head, sat the supine torso of a small child. His head lulled to the side, patches of black hair hanging in tangles around his face. My throat closed around a scream as the light caught on that face, terror icing my skin in a slick sweat. His mouth hung open in a wide scream but that was all. No eyes. No ears. No nose or anything else but that wide, screaming mouth.
"MAMA!"
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