Disclaimer: I do not own the Evil Within. This story will contain, sexual themes, violence, harm to children, and dark themes. Viewer discretion is advised.
"Do you hear something, Barros?" the impromptu question broke Barros out of his focus. Staring intently over fences of barbed wire from his high vantage point on the second floor of an office building turned watchtower, he had almost forgotten his partner was standing next to him. He readjusted his grip on his rifle.
"What'd you say, Busto?" he asked, still scanning the area with vigilant eyes.
"I asked if you heard something?" Busto repeated, annoyed. Barros took a moment to listen carefully to his surroundings. Under the starry night sky and luminescent crest moon, the sound of the gentle hum of buzzing insects, the patter of footsteps of other guards patrolling the barrier, and the soft whistling of winds filled the ambiance.
"It sounds like a normal night to me. What? You think the Aguadoistas are going to try and invade?"
"No. But it feels like I'm hearing something. I can't tell what it is."
"I think that feeling's called paranoia." Busto scoffed at Barros' assumption.
"I'm just alert. We are on guard duty after all."
"Well, when you've been on guard duty for as long as I have, you know when there's trouble. And tonight, there isn—"
Barros cut himself off when he saw something shift in the darkness on the other side of the barrier. He narrowed his eyes on the point of movement. It was still too far to tell what it was, but he knew it was heading towards them and fast.
"What were you—"
"Hush, Busto, and use your eyes." He pointed to the dark figure, and Busto's eyes quickly locked onto what Barros saw. The figure became more identifiable as it approached. It looked to be a man sprinting down the empty street and heading straight for the barrier, carrying something on his back. That was when he heard the sharp bang ring throughout the night. A gunshot. Both guards instantly raised their guns, other guards in the area quickly snapping to high alert.
"Stop!" Barros ordered, but the man either couldn't hear him or ignored him as he continued to approach. "I said stop!" he shouted much more fiercely. It didn't deter him, as another gunshot rang out, "Damn idiot. I'm going to fire a warning shot." He aimed his weapon towards the charging man.
"Wait!" Busto snapped, pushing his raised rifle down, startling Barros. "He's not the one firing." Barros was still processing the statement when a cacophony of gunshots and bright flashes came around the bend of an abandoned building on the other side of the barrier. They pursued the fleeing man, and the situation became clear. "We've gotta runner!" Busto was already running down the stairs. By the time he got outside, most of the guards in the area and some reporters eager for a story were at the edge of the thick barbed-wire barrier.
"Come this way!" Busto called out, waving his arms, and the man changed his direction. Just as a spray of bullets washed over them, grazing off the barrier and causing everyone to back away.
"Everyone, get back!" A guard ordered. Many more guards urged the reporters and civilians that had left their homes to see the chaos, away from the dangerous scene. Barros turned his attention back to the man to see that he had collapsed to the ground. But that wasn't the only thing. The thing he had been carrying on his back moved.
"Fuck, he's got a girl!" Busto cursed as he watched the girl shakily get to her feet and pull on the man's arm. Her wailing pleas for him to stand almost unheard over the gunshots. "Can't we do anything?!" Busto questioned Barros, who shook his head.
"Not until they cross over," Barros answered, his heart racing, hoping for the girl to keep on running or for the damn man to stand up. The man pushed the girl towards the barrier, yelling something that finally got her to continue running as he got to his feet. His limp slowed him down significantly, but he continued forwards, ducking down as bullets whizzed past him. The girl got to the barbed wire first after climbing up the small ravine but stopped.
"Hurry, Papá!" She screamed, waiting for the man, her Papá, to come.
"Non fermarti!" He yelled back, stumbling into the ravine before climbing out himself. The man was Italian? Barros cringed as the man lifted the barbed wire with his bare hands to let his daughter through, walking under it after her. Being closer now, Barros noticed the little girl had bloodied bandages wrapped around her arms and legs, and the man with seeping bandages around his head, covering his right eye. They cut themselves deeply on the wires as they frantically tried to climb through the tangled maze of razor metal while bullets ricocheted scarily close. It was only a matter of seconds before one of them hit their target. The little girl gave a gut-wrenching cry, collapsing in the tangle of barbed wire.
"Lily!" Her Papá screamed in agony, stopping to untangle her from the razor bush.
"Come on, you're almost there!" Barros yelled, being as close as he could be to the barrier. They were so close. The man picked up his daughter, whose white dress was stained with another coat of fresh blood.
"Throw her, I'll catch!" Busto panickily demanded, having set down his rifle and reaching out his hands. The man lifted his weeping daughter by her waist, his visible eye teary as he kissed her forehead, saying something dear. She cried as he threw her over the last stretch of wire and into the waiting arms of Busto.
"No, Papá!" she screeched, tears streaming down her bleeding face as she struggled in Busto's hold, reaching out to her Papá, but she was carried away regardless of her screams. The wounded man slumped to the ground, his strength seeming to leave him as his exhaustion caught up with him.
"Don't stop!" Barros desperately commanded, grabbing the man's attention. Their eyes met, and Barros could see the pale hopelessness in his blue eye spark with one last glare of determination. He began to fiercely crawl to the end, unnerved by the bullets soaring overhead and the cutting wires slicing into his skin. Barros' heart leaped into his throat as the man's shoulder got caught on a barb just as he tried to climb down into the safety of the ditch. With a pained scream, the man tore his shoulder free with a violent tug and tumbled into the ravine.
"He's safe, you animals!" Barros shouted, raising his rifle towards the people on the other side of the barrier as medics dragged the man out of the ditch. The gunfire stopped, but the shooters stayed with guns raised, glaring where their prey had escaped. "You fire Aguadoistas, and we fire." He called out to the enemy, finger on the trigger, ready to fire with the rest of the guards joining him. Fortunately, they outnumbered the Aguadoistas and the assumed leader of the group sneered.
"There'll always be fire, Italiano. Remember that!" he shouted angrily before he and the rest of his group conceded, walking into the dark night. Relief overcame him like a cool wave but it was probably nothing compared to the relief the man must have felt. Speaking of which, he moved through the crowd of reporters with flashing cameras and intrigued civilians to check up on the escapees. The man was laid out unconscious on a stretcher with medics tending to him. But the girl was nowhere in sight.
"Will he live?" he asked a medic as they prepared to load the man into an ambulance.
"We won't know for sure until he's fully examined," she answered. "But thank you for your service, sir."
"To you as well, ma'am." She nodded with appreciation before joining the other medics in the ambulance.
"Is he gonna make it?" he heard Busto ask as he walked up to him. He could see that his friend's uniform was stained as red as the little girl's dress in the dim lighting.
"They said they won't know until they check him out. What about the girl?" Busto looked solemn.
"She's already on her way to the hospital. They said they'd do all they could, but she was bleeding so much. She didn't even look older than my little sister." he gritted his teeth, and his hands balled into fists. "Who the fuck shoots a little girl?"
"Keep steady, Busto." He put a calming hand on his shoulder. "There'll be a lot more little girls to protect. Don't crack now." Busto took a deep breath, uncurling his fists.
"Yes, sir."
"Good, now get cleaned up and head back to the post… And don't lose faith."
~ S ~
The soft rumbling of the train rolling on the icy tracks helped soothe Stefano's nerves. Being on the train for many hours now gave him too much time to think about how he would find the apartment he had rented. It had been five… six years since he'd stepped foot in his home of Florence. He didn't know how much it changed, if people he'd known still lived there, or if he'd be able to fall back into day-to-day life. Especially now. He scratched at the bandages wrapped around his head, the tender flesh underneath irritated by the rough texture of the wraps.
"Papá," The quiet voice beside pulled him out of his thoughts, and he looked beside him. The little girl next to him looked up at him, a picture book resting in her small lap. A silver butterfly clip with tiny jewels was pinned in her long inky black hair, keeping her bang out of her crystal blue eyes.
"Yes, Farfalla?"
"We there?" she asked.
"We are close." He said, pinching his gloved fingers close together.
"A where vamos?"
"Well, I have rented an apartment for us to live in for now."
"Rented?" she repeated.
"It's like comprando something for a short time."
"Ese be our home?" Stefano paused.
"Yes." Hopefully, it would be.
"Ladies and gentlemen," a woman's voice on the train's intercom spoke. "We are now approaching the next train station. If this is your stop, please prepare to exit the train."
Stefano took in a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for what was to come.
"We're aquí, Lily." He announced to the little girl. Lily closed her book and looked outside the frosted train window.
"Hay tanta gente." She muttered to herself, reaching her hand underneath her dark red coat sleeve and starting to scratch. Stefano gently grabbed her hand, pulling it out and shaking his head.
"Don't scratch it." He chided, shaking his head. "It'll make it worse."
"Eso pica muy bad," Lily whined, frowning, and Stefano felt a twinge of guilt.
"Oh, I know it does, Farfalla." He rubbed tiny circles on her hand. "Espera and I'll take care of it in the apartment. ¿Comprendes?"
"Yes, Papá." Lily nodded, clasping her hands together. The train pulled into the station and came to a slow stop. Stefano stood up and put on his long ebony coat and a flat black cap that had been resting on his chair. He tied his own red scarf around his neck before helping Lily wrap her black wool scarf around hers. He pulled out their luggage from the overhead carrier, which wasn't much. He handed her her dark leather satchel. He slung his own black duffel bag across his shoulders and waited for the isle to clear before heading to the exit, making sure Lily was close behind.
The chill winter breeze tickled his nose as he stepped out of the train and into the station. Looking around at all the bustling people filling the station, he held out a gloved hand. He waited until he felt a much smaller hand hold onto his fingers before continuing. Holding on tightly to the hand, he made his way through the crowd, averting his gaze and trying to ignore the looks people gave him. Stepping out of the rushing crowd and into the plaza was like a great breath of fresh air.
The afternoon sunlight peaked through the misty grey clouds. It shone on the tall beige buildings that stood side by side, snowflakes drifting off their terracotta roofs. A gleaming ivory fountain sat at the plaza's center, a stone angel standing at the top, spewing out glistening water. Stefano felt the nostalgia hit him like a battering ram and allowed a small smile even though it pained half his face. He was finally home.
"Es tan bonito." Lily gasped, amazed. He looked down at her, and his smile widened.
They were home.
"Welcome to Florence, Lily." She smiled back at him, her cheeks rosy and blue eyes sparkling. The first smile he had seen on her all day.
Trying to find the apartment was more difficult than he first thought. Simultaneously carrying the heavy luggage while trying to follow the crudely written instructions on his map and constantly checking to make sure Lily was by his side with his limited vision took a significant amount of concentration. When they started passing by shops and food stands that smelled all too good, he realized he must have taken a wrong turn and stopped himself from kicking over the nearby trash can. At least they knew where the food was.
The sky was a dark blue by the time he found the apartment complex, and he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. It didn't look the most luxurious. The dirtied windows and cracks in the walls made sure of that. Getting a room was much more manageable, thankfully, even if the receptionist stared inappropriately when she thought he wasn't looking. Their room was on the fourth floor, and his back was thankful that there was an elevator. The dimly lit halls were filled with voices from the thin walls of the rooms they passed. He hoped Lily didn't understand most of what he heard. He handed Lily the rusty keys, and she opened the door with a loud creak.
He quickly walked inside to set down the luggage he had been carrying, relieving his aching shoulders. Then, flipping on the light switch, he could see inside the apartment. There was nothing to be impressed with the standard living room with a stained couch and rustic TV, kitchen with a dirtied stove and no dining table, and a bathroom where only the cold knob on the sink and shower worked. He had paid for two bedrooms that were at opposite ends of the apartment, but the one beside the kitchen was much smaller. It was probably a storage room that got "renovated" into a bedroom. Of course, it could have been worse. It was certainly better than sleeping outside on the cold ground.
He felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down at Lily, who pointed to her arms.
"Oh, yes," he said, remembering the train conversation. "Put your things away, and I'll get your medicine." He used hand motions to further detail as he spoke, and after a moment, Lily went off to her new bedroom with her things. He had planned on taking the smaller bedroom, but Lily was already set up in it. So, he set his duffle bag down on the rickety bed in the bigger bedroom and took out his own things. He had just taken out Lily's medicine when he came across a small wooden box with a rose engraved on the lid at the bottom of his bag.
He gently opened it up and looked at its contents. Rolls of the film were bundled inside, faint images printed onto the thin sheen sheets. He didn't know how long he stared at them before he sighed and shut the case, stuffing it at the bottom of his nightstand drawer.
~L~
Lily felt her stomach rumble as she lay out on her new bed. She believed the last thing she ate was the sandwiches the train gave them, and she hadn't liked them much. Hopping off her small springy bed, Lily was mindful of the fresh bandages that Papá had wrapped on her arms and ankles. Personally, she thought they made her look like a tiny mummy. She found him in the living room sitting on the couch, laying out silver coins on the coffee table and counting them.
"Papá," he looked up at her call, and she pointed to her stomach.
"Oh, non hai mangiato. Che stupido." He sounded upset as he put the coins in a pouch but looked at her with a small smile.
"Let's go prendi del cibo. Mettiti il cappotto." He pointed to his coat resting on the couch armrest, then to her. Oh, he wanted her to get her coat. So she went off to do just that, slipping on her coat over her black dress and stepping into her fuzzy brown boots. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and headed to the front door, where Papá was finishing putting his shoes on.
"Ready?" She asked, and her Papá looked at her with a raised eyebrow, and she thought for a moment he didn't understand. He bent down and retied her scarf so that it wasn't crooked.
"Adesso, we go." He said before opening the door. She didn't like how cold the outside air was, but the scenery of the lit-up buildings underneath the night sky made up for it. She had never seen anything like it, and it amazed her as much as it frightened her. It was all a lot to take in with the loud noises, flashing lights, and just so many people. She held onto Papá's gloved hand tightly, keeping close to his side and not looking at any of the people that passed them by. However, she did look at the shops they passed, selling all kinds of clothes, jewelry, and decorations. She wondered if one day she would be able to go shopping.
A smell that made her stomach rumble tingled her nose, and she recognized that they were back at the food market. She didn't recognize many of the foods spinning around in the air and flopping in pans, but it all smelled terrific. Papá led her to a line for a food stand with a bright blue sign, and she eyed its glowing letters.
"Trapaseno?"
"Trapizzino," Papá said much more smoothly than she had.
"Tra-piz-zino." She repeated slowly, making sure each letter rolled off as smoothly off her tongue as it had Papá's. He looked down at her with a smile and patted her head.
"Perfetto, Farfalla. Italian very good." She grinned at the praise and at her Papa's Spanish. They made it to the front of the line, but she couldn't see what the older man with a dirty apron behind the counter was making. He greeted them with a bright smile even though he was probably tired from working for hours.
"Buona serata." Papá said.
"Buonasera, signore. Comepossoaiutarla?" The man said so quickly it sounded like one long word.
"Una piadina di pollo, per favore."
"Sì signore," the man nodded his head before looking at her. "Ecosa vuolela signorina?" she knew it was a question by how he spoke, but what the question was, was a different story.
"Io uh..." she started, not knowing where it was going to go.
"Pollo o manzo, Liliana?" Papá interjected, and it clicked in her head.
"Pollo, per favore, signore." She said confidently, and the man nodded.
"Certo, signorina Liliana. Sarebbe tutto signore?"
"Due acque. Sarà tutto."
"Sono otto euro, per favore." Papa pulled out the pouch from his coat pocket and took out some of the coins. He handed them over to the man, who then turned back to his stove to prepare whatever they had ordered, which was done surprisingly quick. Finally, he handed Papá a plastic bag of their fresh food and two water bottles.
"Grazie Signore." Papá thanked the man.
"Gracie signore." She repeated and watched as the man's smile grew.
"Buonanotte." She grabbed Papá's hand again, and they started walking back to their new apartment. They had done a lot of walking today, but she was used to walking for so long. She was pulled out her thoughts as a humming sound cut through the chaos of the plaza. As they drew nearer to a crowd, the sound became clearer. She perked up at the melodic strumming of what seemed to be a guitar, but it was different somehow. When they started passing the crowd, was when she saw it.
At the center of the ring of people was the most giant guitar she had seen, so big in fact that the man playing it had to sit down on a bench to play it. The notes held on longer and were much deeper, carrying a heavier sound that brought a fuzzy feeling in her chest. She could listen to it all day.
"Lily?" She hadn't realized that she'd stopped walking until Papá tugged her hand, and she looked up at him.
"Vuoi restare ad ascoltare?" He asked, pointing to the guitar then to a set of stone stairs. She nodded gleefully, and they went to go sit on the steps. After sitting down, Papá reached into the food bag and pulled out what looked to be a tortilla sandwich stuffed with bright spinach and tomatoes, melted cheese, and slices of meat. It smelled delicious, and it certainly tasted delicious when she took a bite. It tasted different from the other sandwiches she had eaten but in a good way.
"What 'e this?" She asked, pointing to the sandwich.
"Piadina." He answered, taking out his own Piadina. It was nice to have something warm to eat, and it was even better that there was beautiful music to go along with it. She could forget about the cold and let the snowflakes melt right off her as she took in what her new home had to offer. She liked it so far.
"Lily, listen, please." The firmness of Papá's words made her nervous, and she paused drinking her bottled water.
"Sì, Papà." She said, putting the cap back on her water and wiping her mouth. He looked at her with a soft gaze, but it was almost too soft. Like the softness of his blue eye was hiding whatever was stirring beneath his rough bandages.
"I need job, così abbiamo more euros." He pointed to the pouch in his pocket. "Tomorrow, I look per job. Life sarà hard per some time ma…" He delicately grasped her hand in his own warm one, holding it close. "I promise I never go. Not per everything." She felt a warm feeling blossom in her chest, and she couldn't help but smile.
"Io pro-met-to too, Papá."
The walk back to the apartment felt much longer than she had remembered. Having a full stomach and a busy day, her tired body started to drag her feet on the ground. They came to a stop at a road crossing, and she found her head lolling to the side, knocking into Papá's arm. She rubbed her heavy eyes, trying to keep herself awake.
"Vuoi dormire?" Papá asked, tugging on her now limp arm. She was too tired to understand, but her yawn seemed to answer his question. "Sarebbe un sì." He crouched down, and she immediately climbed onto his back. She wrapped her little arms around his neck as he stood up, holding onto her legs. She relaxed into his warmth, resting her head on his shoulder and shrugging off the cold. Closing her eyes, she drowned in the sound of people walking by with their conversations, the warming music that drifted through the streets, and the smooth rhythm of Papá's footsteps on the icy path. Then, with her exhausted mind and ensured security, it didn't take long for her to drift off into a silent slumber.
