Episode 19

Scarlet could hear a matter of footfalls approaching. Between the sound of their approach and what it took for Helfierch and her to hide, she figured that they were somewhere under the floor. Her heart seemed to pound harder the closer the footsteps got. Suddenly, the footsteps stopped right overhead of them.

"I know I heard something up here," one then whispered.

"Well, whoever it was. They're gone now..."

"Shhhh, someone else is coming," the first voice hissed.

Scarlet could hear a new group of footsteps approaching. It seemed that those above her were getting ready and lying in wait for those that were approaching. Suddenly, a series of screams ripped through the air, causing Scarlet to jump.

Her leg pressed against one of the hotter pipes, causing her to yelp slightly. She instantly felt Helfierch's palm pressed against her mouth. She knew for sure that her skin had been scorched, and her nostrils flared as she swallowed the pain.

The screaming of the people above her echoed in a deafening way. Her hands instinctively rose to cup over her ears to muffle the sound. She began to feel an odd sensation, like rain coming down on her. Only, it was warm and sticky.

It was then that she realized that what was raining down on her was blood. Her lips were pressed tightly together to keep any of the blood from going into her mouth, but the heat from the pipes made it hard for her to breathe through her nose.

Finally, the fight was over. And now more than ever, it was important for the two to remain as quiet as possible. In the silence after the fight, Scarlet could hear the fallen bodies being cut open and their guts being pulled out from them as the victors field-dressed the fallen. The blood from them ran down onto the hot pipes around her, sizzling as it did. The thick hot air was overcome by the aroma of burnt blood.

Scarlet placed the back of her fingers up against her nose to abate the smell in an attempt to subdue her gag reflex. She closed her eyes as she tried to go somewhere else in her mind, anywhere else but where she was now. With the sizzling blood hissing in her ears, her mind drifted off to a different place and time.

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Meat sizzled away in a skillet on the stove, filling the room with a less-than-savory smell. She didn't know what the meat was really from, but she'd learned not to ask. Besides, even if she did, her uncle would only say that he got it from the butcher. She pushed herself up on the small counter as she watched the meat cook, her uncle standing over it.

The kitchen was a rather small room. The walls were covered with dated wallpaper that bore stains from years of cooking and water damage from the floor above them. Dirt had gathered in the crease where the floor met the wall. The linoleum on the floor was mostly intact except for a few tears here and there. The vinyl covering the counter had begun to separate from the board underneath in several places but had been taped back down. Under the smell of the cooking meat was a mix of old grease and mildew.

It wasn't much to look at, but it was what she knew as home. Looking out the only window in the room, she wondered, as she often did, what it was like in nicer places, the kind of places where you didn't have to wonder what it was you were eating, where people wore fine clothing and beautiful gowns, where the water in the faucet didn't come out a yellow-brown. She wondered what crystal-clear water tasted like. She supposed it tasted very nice, just as she supposed that the meat did as well.

Scarlet didn't often think about the girl she once was and the foolish things she thought. She didn't know if she should be thankful to her younger self or angry. On one hand, she'd gotten what she always wanted, to get out of that dump. But on the other hand, the traits she used to get out had led her here, to this moment she now found herself, hiding under the floor as blood dripped down on her from bodies that were being carved up like animals. Her life wasn't what she'd imagined it would be, and it certainly wasn't the one that had been given to her.

She never entertained thoughts of talking to her younger self about where she was going to go wrong. She knew enough about herself to know she wouldn't listen, even to herself. There were things she missed about that old kitchen, mostly the man who so often stood at the stove cooking mystery meat: his smile, his gentle quietness, and his inexplicable ability to see right through her. He to, had always wanted her to get out of there, to have a better life.

'I wonder if he'd think the life I have now is better or worse than the one I had.'

She knew that if he were still with her, he would speak his piece on the matter. But she also knew that he would have turned the world upside down to help stop whatever was happening to her. He would never abandon her.

'But he's not here. He's gone. And so, I must face this alone… without him.'