Adam's stomach rumbled. It was happening more and more, lately. He curled up on the sofa couch, compressing his stomach muscles in an effort to soothe it. All it did was elicit another rumble from his poor stomach. It sounded like light mud gurgling down a sink drain.

The eleven-year-old boy winced. What had his older sister, Mary, said whenever they got low on food?

"Just think of something else, because it'll take your mind off it." He recited. So, he tried.

The rumbles reminded him of a dragon’s roar he once heard on their radio. There once was a story-time program, narrated by a man-woman duo. One of their long-running stories involved a group of adventurers on a grand quest, traveling across a fantasy land to find the lost treasure and save the kingdom from evil. Adam remembered sitting at the kitchen table with his sister, both enraptured at the narration of fights and dungeon-crawling crackling through the radio speakers.

Then this little of storytime ended one day when the radio began spitting out sparks and heat that set off the fire alarm. After that, Mary had vowed never to trust the pawnshop down the road ever again. She got it fixed one day, but by then the program had been taken off air.

Part of him wanted to escape into that fantasy world with Mary. Where they could live in palaces after saving princesses, or go hiking to vast, magnificent fantasy locations with elves and dwarves. They could camp under the stars, tell stories around campfires and eat meals they hunted themselves and—

His stomach rumbled for a third time, at the thought of food. It was particularly painful.

“Mary…” The little boy mumbled, curling up into himself, “Where’d you go?”

A calendar hung from a humming fridge. Three red crosses marked three white squares of the first week of the month. Three whole days since his sister, Mary, had gone out job hunting and never came back.

Adam replayed the memory again. Mary had said her interview was in the next town over, past the railway bridge crossing. She ever dressed up, switching shirt and jeans for a nice-looking dress, so Adam knew she was being serious. She had then patted him on the head and kissed his forehead in that familiar, overbearing way that he loved.

He had protested back then, muttering nonsense about how he was a big boy now and didn’t need silly kid things like kisses and hugs. Now, he would have thrown his words into the dumpster in the alley if it meant Mary would come back.

Adam stared at the fridge again. It was empty. Adam had eaten its all contents on the first day, then raided the short-stocked pantry for the second. Food had always been a struggle to come by, ever since Mary took them from the orphanage into this apartment. He was tempted to head outside in search of food—do a little dumpster diving like he used to—but Mary had told him the streets were dangerous these days and he needed to keep safe no matter what.

Mary was always, always right, so he stayed put and waited.

And yet, she still hadn’t returned. A sudden, horrible thought struck him. What if Mary didn’t want to come back home? What if she had grown tired of taking care of him. Adam knew how exhausted Mary could be upon coming back from shifts, and how little time she spent with other girls she met. The princess in the radio show had gotten tired of her kingdom and ditched her old life for freedom as an adventurer.

Was Mary like that, too?

“No, that’s dumb! That’s stupid!” Adam exclaimed. The silence of the empty apartment mocked him. “Mary’s the best. Mary said she loved me. That’s why…why…she wouldn’t run away from me!”

He clutched the cushion tighter, lip trembling. He wasn’t going to cry. He was the man of the household, like the hero in the radio show, and they weren’t supposed to cry. He wasn’t like those stupid little girls in the local kindergarten. That drop of moisture on his cheek was the roof leaking again, is all!

The doorbell suddenly rang.

Adam froze. The doorbell rang again. He saw a tall figure visible through the blurry door window. Heart thumping, he raced over to the door.

"Who is it?" he called.

There was a pause before the figure spoke. “Adam, it’s me.”

That voice only belonged to one person in the world. Wiping his tears, Adam grasped the doorknob and flung it open.

"Mary! You’re finally home!” He cried, doing his best to look angry. “You’re late, you dummy! Where have you been—”

His words died in his throat. The woman standing before him was indeed his sister Mary, but her state had stepped straight out of a nightmare.

Blood.

Blood, both fresh and dry, coated all over Mary's body. She wore an outfit splattered and clogged with decaying blood, a strange long-hemmed dress adorned with frills and ribbons, utterly divorced from the outfit she left the apartment him. For each patch of undamaged skin on Mary's exposed arms and thighs, two more were gashed with wide, festering wounds.

Mary staggered forward through the doorway. A foul stench radiated from her, a mixture of burning flesh and decaying iron. Each step left behind a bloody footprint. She fell on her knees and Adam reached out to grab her. He saw two, long objects protrude from her back. Wings?

“Adam…” Mary croaked. “I’m home.”

"Mary?” Adam said. He stared back at her, eyes wide and comprehending. His shoulders began to ache as he struggled to hold her up. “Mary! What happened? Is that your blood?”

"Sorry I took so long. Did I make you wait?” Mary continued to speak. Her cheeks leaked blood and pus and her left eye was mush. She coughed, splashing mucus onto Adam’s shirt “I’m sorry, Adam. So very sorry…”

“W-what are you saying sorry for?” Adam cried. “You’re the one covered in blood! Oh god, we gotta call the hospital!”

Mary shook her head. “No use.” She mouthed.

“What do you mean, Mary? If we don’t do something, you’re gonna die—"

Mary leaned forward and placed a shaky kiss on her little brother’s forehead. She then lifted her right arm and pressed something thin and glassy into his palm.

"’Love you, Adam.” She murmured. A painful smile blossomed on her lips. Adam had seen that smile every day before her departure. “I’ve loved you all my life. You know that, right? Every single day was a joy when you were with me.”

“Shut up! Shut up, Mary! Just stop it!” Adam howled. Desperate tears leaked from his eyes. Even at his young age, he knew. He hugged his sister as if it could prevent the inevitable.

With her last of her strength, she wrapped her arms around her little brother and spoke into his ear.

“You have to survive, Adam. You have to win.”

And just like that, Mary—elder sister, housemaker and the center of Adam’s world—slumped over and died.