《Anya》Chapter 51
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Chapter 51
A gentle wind grazed the uneven landscape, and as it passed between the cracks of the ramshackle hamlet, an eerie howl echoed through the crisp air. Some of the poorly assembled housing vibrated and shook, threatening to give. Others creaked and croaked, creating an unpleasant noise that irritated the ear. It was in between these impoverished structures were a gravel road laid, occupied by a lonesome child.
Anya’s body trembled, her finger grew numb. The creature had just departed moments ago, although it was to her command, she felt a sense of frustration as it had left her alone. She tightened her embrace around her weapon, pressing the rifle deeper into her chest. With each step, she felt a deeper sorrow that sank her heart further into the abyss. The once beautiful dress that was her pride was now soiled in a vile and sticky stench. Her rifle, the legacy left by her late mother, scratched and sullied by the perverse man’s touch. As the wind blew onto her wet clothing, Anya was chilled to the bone. Regret filled her mind, after all, none of this would have happened if she had just waited for Boris.
From not too far away, a soft whistle sounded and slowly approached. Accompanied by a series of steps, it immediately caught the girl’s attention. Anya halted and stood still as the individual walked in closer. The child’s eyes were already adjusted to her surrounding, thus she spotted him before he had even noticed she was there. The figure was an old man carrying a dying torch. Unshaven and adorn with ragged clothing, he huddled his arms together in an attempt to keep warm. It was not long before he came in close enough for his flickering flame to highlight the lonely girl.
“Huh? Wh-What?!” The man was startled by the dark figure. He reached out his torch to better see what stood before him.
“A-A kid…?” he mumbled. “Oi, ya lost ya mind?! Givin ma heart a panic ‘ere!”
Anya did not answer, instead, she glared at him.
“What ya doing out ‘ere?” He continued to question. Upon a brief glance, he noticed the girl’s torn clothing and stiff stance. “Ya… alright…? What happen-”
When he attempted to step closer, Anya immediately raised her rifle, pointing it directly at the man’s chest.
“Stay away!” She demanded.
The man quickly backed off, raising both hands in the air.
“Whoa… calm down…! I ain’t mean no trouble… Look, I just wonderin’ whetha ya’s alright.”
The girl did not bulge, thus the man further retreated.
“Alright-alright, I’m leavin’... This place goin deepa in da shitter ever'day. Got enough problems already.”
The child kept her rifled aimed and readied until the man was a comfortable distance away. Once she could no longer see him, the girl sighed and lowered her weapon.
“Stupid…” she muttered to herself. “I could have asked him for directions…” Anya had no idea where she was. When she was led here, the child was too busy observing her surroundings to take note of the route. Initially, Anya believed that the boy would have led her back to the gun range. Unfortunately, that was not the case.
With no other options available to her, the girl kept on walking, aimlessly, wishing that she would be met with a familiar face or that she would stumble upon the secret tunnel by chance. Though she tried to be optimistic, that charade soon faded as she knew that the chances of either occurring were slim. Soon, the anger that fueled her before dissipated, and a bitter sense of sadness filled the void. The boy was no longer on her mind, she just wanted to be back in the warm and comfortable room, able to wash in a steamy shower. She wanted to forget everything and to sleep until Emma’s return.
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The girl started to sob.
She wiped away her tears with her unclean hands which only made her feel dirtier. She tried her hardest to make her cries silent but found it impossible to suppress the hiccups.
“I wanna go home…”
Anya missed it, the simplicity of her day to day routine back in Black-Rock, the worry-free life she had once lived. Although not everyone was kind or honest to her, she at least felt safe there. Now nothing was certain, alone in an unfamiliar place, not knowing where to go or who she could trust.
Anya hated herself, she hated that she did not listen to her father and to her uncle when she boarded that fateful convoy. She hated that her selfishness made her father betray his hometown to fulfill her desires. If she had only just been a better daughter, her father would still be alive and she would be home reading stories or playing with her uncle. Soon, Anya collapsed onto the ground, knee first into the gravel. The girl’s arms and legs felt weak as if her strength was suddenly drained from them. She sat on her legs and rubbed her eyes, wiping away the tears.
“I want to go home…”
Having noticed that her rifle had fallen onto the floor, she hastily picked it up and checked for scratches. A few new ones seemed to have appeared on the wooden frames which only made Anya feel worse.
“I’m- I’m sorry…” She cried, rubbing her palm over the scrapes on the rifle, hoping it would somehow remove the scars. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…!”
Anya was completely lost, she did not know what to do. Walking forward only led to more unfamiliar ground and going back will only bring back the nightmare she desired to forget. She wanted to ask for help, but at the same time, she was too afraid. The girl used to believe she was strong, that she would be able to face anything that came her way, but she was brutally proven wrong.
...craedS, rea oyu ton...
Out of the wind, a cordial voice whispered into her ear. Alarmed, the child immediately looked around but could not find the source.
leoAn, rea oyu ton...
The voice was softer this time and sounded much more familiar. Although it distinctly came from one direction, the girl could not spot the origin.
“E-Emma…?” Anya stood up, stumbling slightly as her knees were bruised by the ground. “Is… is that you…?”
reHe, ooflwl tish vcioe…
The child was now sure that it was Emma’s voice, however, she could not understand a single word that was said.
“W-Where…” she sniffed. “Where are you…?”
tI si faes rehe…
The girl started to walk toward the source of the sound.
“I-I’m sorry… I sh-should of listened… and waited in the room…” Anya was unsure of where she was headed, the dirt coupled with her swollen eyes made it difficult to see. “I don’t want to be here… I don’t want to be alone...”
Come in…
This time, she could understand what the voice had said. The girl looked up and saw that she was in front of a large wooden door. There were signs of decay all along its surface, but it was still seemed structurally sound. She pressed her palm against its surface and slowly, the door creaked open.
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“Ow!” she yelped as a sharp, prickly-pain struck her. Anya retracted her arm and stared at her hand.
It was completely fine, though it felt as if something stabbed into her skin, there was no sign of a lesion.
“...”
All of the sudden, the voice she had followed stopped.
Anya froze.
"..."
Not just the voice, the wind ceased as well. A soft ringing creepted in to replace the absent ambiance.
“...”
Anya opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“...”
She tried again and still, nothing. The child started to panic, she reached for her mouth and throat to see if anything blocked her voice, but there was nothing there. Then, she began to notice the other nuance sounds that were missing. First, her breathing, despite being able to feel the air pass through her nose and mouth, she could not hear it. She could feel her feet press against the ground, yet sliding it side to side yielded nothing either. Confusion quickly escalated to panic, as she tried to scream.
“....................................................”
“...”
Everything felt wrong and extremely uncomfortable, she could not describe the sensation but it terrified her.
“.....................................................”
“.................................”
Still holding the rifle, the girl fell down and pressed both hands against the sides of her head.
“........................................”
“....................................................”
No matter how hard she tried, not a single note would leave her lips.
“..................................”
“ANYA!”
“ahhHHHHHHHHHH!”
Suddenly, her voice returned and her throat began to hurt. She was still in dismay, thus she kept screaming.
“Ahhhhhhhhh-”
“ANYA!”
Something grabbed her by the shoulder and shook violently.
“Are you alright?!” The familiar voice questioned. “What’s going on?!”
The frightened child slowly turned around.
“...Emma…?” The girl immediately leaped at the woman and embraced her. “Emma! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”
The woman wrapped her hand around the child before patting and stroking her back.
“What happened?” the woman asked. “What’s wrong?”
“I d-didn’t listen… and there were these… these bad people… a-and…and…”
“There-there…” The woman said, continuing to comfort the child. “Are you alright? Are you hurt anywhere?”
Anya nodded, wiping her face against the woman’s clothing.
“Can you show me?”
“It's my… it's my belly and my knees hurt… and...” the girl sniffed, "and... and..."
“I see… hold on for a bit, let’s head home and get you cleaned up.”
“Uh-huh…” Anya released herself from her embrace and held onto the woman’s hands. The woman began to walk, pulling the child along. Using her sleeve, Anya wiped away at the impurities that covered her face. Although her eyes were still swollen, her vision became much clearer. Especially, since bright and tall lanterns lined the pathway. The road they walked on was empty but strangely welcoming.
“Where... where did you go…?” said Anya, as her gaze shifted toward the woman. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye…”
“I’m sorry, Anya. I had some business I needed to take care of… but now I’m back. Say… did you spend all of the allowances I gave you…?”
“No, but I don’t have it anymore…” The child lowered her head. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s fine. That wasn’t your fault anyway. Just be more careful next time, okay?”
Anya lifted her head and stared at the woman.
“Huh…?” Anya muttered. It was then she noticed figures in the corner of her eyes. She quickly turned to face them. “Where did they…” There were a couple of people casually chatting as they exited the doors of the shops. Countless voices of chatter interlaced with each other as crowds of people walked past her. The girl began to frantically turn her head and look around the busied street. Loud vendors shouted at the moving mob in an attempt to gather their attention. Some people were laughing as they chewed away at their skewers, others bickered as they negotiated prices with shopkeepers.
“What’s wrong, Anya…? You seem like you saw a ghost.”
“But… I… I thought…”
“Are you hungry? We could stop by and get some food if you’ll like.”
“N-No… that's not it... I’m fine... Boris already got me something to eat… so I’m not hungry.”
A few children ran past them, holding onto sticks and pretending to shoot at each other. There was another group of children that huddled around a small board, playing games with beads and pebbles.
“Oh really? And he paid for you, didn’t he? How nice of him.”
“Uh-huh, and he taught me to shoot too!” The child jeered.
“Did he now…? Tell me, did you do well?”
“Yep, I nearly got a bullseye!”
“That’s amazing, Anya! Pretty soon you’ll be able to help me out on jobs.”
“That’s right!” The girl puffed her chest and boasted, pointing at herself with her thumb. “He said I did great for a beginner.”
“You’ll have to demonstrate to me first before I’ll let you follow along next time.”
“Sure! I can show you right… now…”
Anya’s furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes shifted toward her empty hand.
“I… my....” The girl was confused, closing and opening her hand as if missing something.
“We’re here!” Said the woman as they halted at a section of the street just like any other. Crowds of busied people walked past them, curving them path as to avoid a collision. “Anya, look!” the woman said, pointing at the nearby building.
Anya turned her head and followed the woman’s finger. There was a sign bolted on to a makeshift platform above an opened door with large, black letters painted on. Unintentionally, while staring at the sign, Anya began to mutter the words under her breath.
“Boone’d Stew...”
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