Chapter 42

She awoke within a dark room, the blackout curtains kept any artificial light from intruding to within. Neither the lamp nor the overhead lights were on, but Anya’s eyes were able to adjust themselves well enough for the child to see. The slightest amount of illumination was enough for her, and slowly, she recalled where she was.

Yawn…

Anya stretched her arms and turned herself over, her face sank deep into the pillow. To her, this was pleasure at its finest: resting within a cool room, sandwiched in between a puffy blanket and a soft bed.

“Mor-nin…” The child’s eyes felt heavy again and she wanted to continue her slumber. But before her mind could be completely set adrift, a sudden realization struck her.

Frantically, she laid on her back and lifted the blanket.

“Oh no…” Her mind grew into turmoil, for during her blissful sleep her tail had sliced into the fabric of the sheets in several places. Also, she was naked, but that was second on her list of grievances.

“Emma?!” She called but received no answer.

What if I cut her?! What if something happened?! Distressing thoughts ran through her mind, she could not bear the thought of hurting Emma. Anya jumped out of bed and ran into the restroom.

“EMMA?!”

No one was there. Her calls were met only by the air vent that spewed warmth into the room. Slowly, she backed away from the bathroom and flicked on the light switch.

Nothing, no signs of Emma’s belongings, nothing to indicate that she was even there. Anya’s legs weakened, an emptiness grew from deep within her. The loneliness she feared had returned and with it, a sense of sadness and uncertainty. Just when the first drop of tears had made its way down her cheek, the child noticed, from the corner of her eyes, a note and a bag of coins…

She approached it, the ache in her heart grew more prevalent with every step. The child feared what might be written on the piece of paper. Still, Anya drew her courage and grabbed the note, muttering the words under her breath.

“I’m sorry that this was so sudden…” the message read. “ and that I wasn’t able to say my goodbyes, but I didn’t want to wake you since you’ve finally got the chance to enjoy some peaceful rest.”

The child sniffled but did not cry.

“I have some urgent business to take care of right now. On the table is a bit of allowance money in case you need it. I’ve already paid for a week in advance and has given permission to further charge my account when necessary. If you need anything, talk to the receptionist downstairs. Just stay put for now and I promise I’ll be back in no time. Signed Emma.”

The girl neatly folded the note and placed it on top of the table, her attention shifted to the bag of coins. Judging from the weight, the sack contained a hefty sum. Anya estimated it to be enough to indulge in the coffee shop many times over. Although it was a pleasant thought, Anya mood remained solemn. She did not care for the money, the sweets, or the comforts that surrounded her. The fact remained, she was alone again.

Anya hated this feeling, this uneasiness. She was lost, the bond with Emma had grown on her and she enjoyed every moment they spent together. Though Emma promised to return, whether those words were true to have yet to be determined. After all, Anya knew that her mother made a similar vow to her and her father.

Before the dark though could completely cloud her mind, the child slapped her cheeks and shook her head.

“Emma isn’t my mom!” Anya exclaimed. “She will keep her promise!”

Knock-Knock.

It was then, an unexpected noise started the child. The first through that swept her mind was that Emma had already returned, however, before she could call out the woman’s name. An unfamiliar voice shouted from beyond the door.

“Your laundry is done.” The sound of the squeaky cart promptly scurried off.

Having opened the door, Anya peaked her head out of the small gap and ensured that no one else was around. Quickly, she snatched the folded laundry and slammed the door shut before dressing herself in the still warm clothing. The child basked herself in the newfound comfort, however, she restrained herself and began preparation of her belongings.

Anya retrieved her rifle and satchel, she had seen a few people openly carry weapons, so she figured it should not be too out of the ordinary. Also, carrying the rifle with her would help her find the correct ammunition she needed. She then grabbed the sack of coins and tossed it into her satchel before pocketing the complementary food in the room.

The keycard was located right next to the nightstand at the side of the bed, something she needed if she planned on returning. With everything equipped, she did one last check before she exited the room.

The elevator required some experimentation before she arrived at the lobby. The number of people chatting away did not seem to change much, which was strange. From her experience, businesses usually have down times where most people have gone home to rest. That does not seem to be the case here. As Anya walked toward the counter, she passed a woman who brushed her face with fresh makeup, although the woman tried to hide it, the child caught a glimpse of her eyes and the pronounced dark bags that refused to go away.

There was already someone at the counter, an irritated, unmasked gentleman aggressively barked at the receptionist, a woman.

“Is this the strongest you have?!” the man yelled. “This stuff barely works for me anymore.”

Visibly distraught, the receptionist meekly responded as calmly as she could.

“I’m sorry sir, that’s all we offer.”

The man grumbled and begrudgingly paid his dues before snatching a container full of capsules and storming off.

Finally, the receptionist relaxed her stature and expressed a relieving sigh. “I swear, these people…” she mumbled quietly.

Now that the counter was empty, Anya approached.

“What was that?”

The receptionist briefly glanced at the child before she leaned on the counter.

“Just another druggie looking for their next fix.”

“Druggie?” Anya questioned.

“Must be nice not to have to worry about food… or rent… rich assholes.” Seemingly staring off into the distance, the young woman continued her muttering. “I hope he chokes on those sleeping pills...” The receptionists gaze shifted toward the child. “So, what are you selling?”

“What…? I’m not selling anything.”

“Then why are you here?”

“To ask for directions!”

“Directions?” the receptionist furrowed her eyebrows and lean in closer. “Directions to where?”

“The market!”

“Wow… kid. You are way off course. This is not the type of place you should be hanging around.” The young woman rested the side of her head against her palm. “So, what are you even looking for?”

“A silent generator, do you know where I can find it?”

“A silent generator…? Never heard of it.”

“Hmm…. umm… do you know anyone that might know where I can find one?”

“Nope.”

“...” A short period of silence followed as the receptionist was not very helpful.

“Listen, kid, you shouldn’t really be in places like this.”

“But I live here!”

“Live here?” The receptionist seems perplexed, furrowing her brow and squinting her eyes. “What do you mean you live here?”

Anya retrieved her sapphire card and showed it to the woman.

“Here,” she voice innocently, “this proves that I live here.”

The receptionist seemed to stare blankly at the card, as if in disbelief. Her eyes slowly widened until she suddenly straightened her stance and twisted her face into a nervous smile.

“Oh! Umm…!” the woman’s words were jumbled and frantic. “N-Nice to have you with u-us! I’m sorry if there are any inconveniences! N-Now, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Ummm… the thing that I mentioned before…” Anya took a step back as the receptionist’s exaggerated fake smile was a bit unsettling.

“Oh! Right! Umm… the g-generator right? I… hmm… the marketplace! That’s the best place to look. Hold on…”

“But that’s what I just asked…”

The receptionist ducked under her table and began fumbling through the clutter. Anya approached the counter and stood on the tips of her toes, glancing over the surface.

“Ah! Here it is!” The receptionist placed a paper map on the table. “Here we are, just exit through the door and head left, keep straight and you will eventually see a sign with “Market Street” painted over it. Just head right and you’ll be there.”

“Thanks!” The child snatched the map and turned around.

“Oh, that map… N-nevermind, thank you for your patronage.” The receptionist bowed and watched as the child departed.

Passing through the automated doors, the same, but fainter, stench of smoke and liquor struck the child’s nose. The sky was no longer completely black but of a greyish hue and warm air made being outside slightly more comfortable. However, nothing could overshadow the unceasing quietness. Contrary to most places, the red light district seemed to die down as opposed to most places that liven up with the lighter skies. The red lights were turned off, and in its place shined a dim yellow, making the streets feel abandoned. Essentially all of the shops were closed, with locks on their doors and shutters obstructing the windows. As she traversed along the road, she occasionally met strangers who would stare at her, but instantly look away once their eyes met.

After a few more minutes of walking, Anya spotted the described sign, a long sheet of metal fastened to a pole. It was then she heard the faint sound of the crowd, which grew louder with every step down the path. Eventually, the narrow streets opened up to a widened road.

“Whoa…” the girl mumbled, for the ever-bustling marketplace was even more jubilant than before. Streams of moving individuals formed a living wall that seemed nearly impossible to penetrate. The shouts and yells overlapped one another and mixed together into a continuous and indeterminable noise. Bright arrangement of assorted colors was everywhere, distracting the eye where ever one looked.

Among the fluid crowd, the child noticed regularity of individuals carrying arms, dispelling her fears of standing out with her weapon. The constant stream of onlookers made the streets intimidating to enter. After a moment of waiting, Anya forcefully injected herself into the crowd, bumping left and right. Everyone around Anya towered above her like large impenetrable walls. The child bounced around until she was finally able to make a stop near a stall.

The girl was relieved to have escaped the crowd. Anya turned around and her eyes met with the Old Lady’s that sat behind the store counter.

“Umm… hi!” The child smiled. “Do you happen to know where I can buy a silent generator?”

The old lady just stared, first at Anya's rifle, then at the girl's face, all the while grinding her teeth.

“Well… I’m sorry to bother you!”

Anya pushed herself back into the shuffling crowd, further being pushed, further bouncing around without a sense of direction. As she attempted to relieve herself from the congregation, she unknowingly kicked her feet right into the elevated sidewalk. In an instant, she lost her balance and fell to the ground.

“Ow!” Someone had stepped on her leg. Those who noticed simply stepped over her, but many more were ignorant of her presence. Anya attempted to get up but the passersby kept bumping into her, hindered her composure. Then, someone had stepped on her hand and caused the child to shout in pain. The ones nearby who had heard her began to give the girl some space, shuffling toward the edge while doing their best to avoid hurting her. Even despite all this, the traffic never stopped. The flow of pedestrian was perpetual.

This time, Anya was able to get up, she dusted herself as the crowd quickly closed in on her again. Not wanting to trip and fall again, the girl followed along with the passing crowd. The river of bodies stops for no one, a lesson she learned the hard way.

Not knowing where she was or where the streets lead, the child walked aimlessly… until an arm reached out from the side and pulled her to a nearby stand. Startled, Anya quickly glanced at the figure beside her.

“...” She was met with the waist of a tall man in a brown overcoat. The child's eyes slowly followed the buttons upward.

“...Boris!”