Requiem for a Mouse (13 page)

LILY

I was named after a flower because I’m small and delicate…

Lily’s body jolted back every time she pulled the trigger. Her arms ached from holding the gun up for so long. The shadows in front of her were too dark to see through.

It was just a flicker in the darkness, but her entire body whipped in its direction. She fired, sending streaks of fire into the shadows. Only the wall was there to take her bullets. The moonlight dimmed. She jerked her neck upwards to see a single cloud obscuring the moon.

Panic welled inside her throat. She wanted to scream and run until she collapsed. Her home, which seemed so wretched before, now appeared cozy next to the cold malevolence of these shadows. She longed for the warm dirt floor underneath the open sky, with the single fire to keep her warm, surrounded by the others without a home.

The mask that had once fit so perfectly, now suffocated her. She ripped it off. Behind her was the slight scuttle of feet tiptoeing through the blackness. She twisted around, her finger twitching on the trigger.

What am I doing? I’m a Lion.
Lions were kings of the jungle. And this was the jungle.

“Stop hiding you coward!”

“Stop!” It was all she could manage before she choked on the rest.

The breeze on her back disappeared. She stood unblinking. A small whimper escaped her mouth as tears streamed down her cheeks. She froze in place, her gun pointed in the wrong direction.

It was coming; the pain that would tell her it was all over. But the seconds stretched into minutes and still none came. Slowly, she let her burning arms fall limp.

She had imagined it, all of it. Well, not all of it, she knew the corpse that she had seen was real, the corpse that looked like someone had run a person through a blender. But the part where she was being followed, she must have imagined.

Lily gave off a slight chuckle. She must’ve appeared insane, firing round after round into the walls around her, frozen in place for entire minutes. With a deep breath, she took a step forward and held still, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did.

Please, don’t be so paranoid.
Already she was behind schedule. There was no time for childish fears.

“Boo.”

Lily’s feet flung to the sides and she crashed into the ground. Standing above her stood The Slasher. Everything about him was ugly, his skinny limbs were too long, his ears too big, and his eyes like black holes. And though she had never seen him before, she had heard stories of his existence.

Her heel had been sliced open to the bone. The pain came in torrents. She clutched her leg with both hands and grunted from deep within her throat.

The Slasher crawled on top of her, his nose inches away from her own.

“Abel was the first man to ever die, do you think that God heard his screams?” With every word, his face contorted into a new emotion. Amusement. Hurt. Pain. It was all there. “Do you even think that fool even wants to hear us out? Or can? Maybe we’re the fools, pitifully screaming at a deaf man.”

Lily pushed against the ground with her good foot. She didn’t move.

“Personally, I believe that if we don’t try, we’ll never know. So how about it? Won’t you give it a try?”

All Lily could do was cry. She let loose a long and pitiful wail.

The Slasher shook his head. “No, no, no. If you want God to hear your screams… you must project!” He shoved his fingers into her mouth and pried her teeth apart.

She gagged on his fingers, the metallic taste of blood still on his hands. His nails sliced into her gums. She swung her head away, but The Slasher hung on.

“Scream!” The Slasher shrieked. “Let God hear you scream!”

Lily did so, louder than she had ever done so before. Her body buckled forward with her scream. Louder and louder until it felt like her throat had caught fire. Each scream left her gasping for air, but she kept screaming, loud enough to awaken even God Himself.

VLAD

Vlad left the crying Lion in a heap on the ground. She had yet to notice him get off her. Her screams had died. They were scratchy and would stop halfway through, but Vlad was satisfied. Not even Beethoven could compose the sonata she had given him.

He looked up at where God supposedly resided.

Did you hear that? She was screaming for you.

He picked up the Lion’s mask and slipped it on.

“You’re not at all how I imagined you. You’re so skinny it’s embarrassing.”

Vlad turned to see Sasha bandaging the Lion’s ankle with a strip of her shirt. As soon as the blue cloth touched the wound, a dark blotch spread throughout it. Sasha’s arms trembled as she tied it as tight as she could. The Lion cried, her eyes still trained to the sky.

“Sorry,” Sasha told her, “this is all I can do for now.”

Vlad cocked his head. “And they say I’m crazy,” he said, making his voice deep and raspy. “You do know that’s the same Lion that will be hunting you tomorrow right?”

“I didn’t come for a Lion, I came because a girl was screaming. Should I have just let her bleed out?”

“Yes.” Vlad responded, surprised anyone would ask such an obvious question.

“And what about you?” Sasha asked, her crimson eyes like lasers burning through his retinas. “Aren’t you dangerous?”

Vlad shrugged. “I’ve always considered myself a friend of Mice.”

“I don’t have friends that kill.”

“What if I told you I am a Mouse?”

Sasha’s response was immediate. “I wouldn’t believe you because Mice don’t kill. No Mouse would do what you do.”

“I do the things that nobody will, so that nobody has to.”

Sasha advanced toward him, her steps firm. She had an expression as if smelling sewage. “So you’re a hero.”

“I have never once harmed anyone that didn’t deserve it.”

“That doesn’t make you a hero.” Sasha snapped back.

Vlad shook his head. “There are only heroes in this world. It is God’s greatest running joke that we’re all pit against each other.”

“Heroes don’t enjoy killing. That’s reserved for monsters.”

“I don’t deny that I enjoy this, but we all have our guilty pleasures. At least my hobby keeps the streets safer for you.” Vlad took a step toward her, expecting her to back away. “If I’m a monster, what do you call the thieves, rapists, and killers you hold such sympathy for?”

Sasha held her ground. “Nobody is born evil.”

“And who are you to say that?” Vlad engulfed her in his shadow. “I would rather believe that we are all born evil and it is only through great effort that we overcome it. Doesn’t that make us sound so heroic?”

“What evil have you overcome?” Sasha glanced at the knife twitching in his hand.

“I have never once, and never will, harm anyone that doesn’t deserve to be harmed.” Vlad rested his gaze on her quivering lips. “And it isn’t because I can’t.”

“Maybe you just shouldn’t harm anyone in general.”

“And let the world do as it pleases? I refuse. No matter what it costs me, I will not let God alone dictate the fate of the helpless. I promise you, there are many more that are grateful for the deeds I have done, than those grateful for the deeds you have not.”

“Like anyone will ever be grateful toward you.” Sasha growled. “You use the helpless as your excuse. If I was to guess, I’d say you’re rather happy that this place is so fucked up. Helping those in need? Reaching God? What a joke. You’d find any excuse to do this.

“And I would!” Vlad announced with his hands open to the sky. “I love it. But just because there are those that deserve me does not make my crusade any less deserving. I will kill them all, slowly, swiftly, painfully, silently, loudly, all of them, and everyone! So, Mouse, will you be the one to stop me?”

Vlad reached out his knife and flipped it so that he was holding the blade. “Will you dirty yourself to save the trash of this city?”

Sasha’s eyes never once wandered away from his own. “Don’t lump me in with you. I’m a Mouse.”

“Then what if I was to attack you? Would it be excuse enough to abandon your morality?” Vlad flipped the knife in his hand so that its tipped pointed straight toward her heart.

“You won’t hurt me,” Sasha said, pursing her lips together.

“Is it because deep down I’m such a good guy? I promise you I’m not.”

“Then do it.”

Vlad froze, he had seen this look before. Few people could pull it off, but Sasha had it down to a science. It was a look of absolute certainty, a blind overconfidence that put even the most egotistical men to shame. Vlad brought up his blade, angling it toward the scar across her eye.

“Why don’t you run?” He muttered.

“Why don’t you?” Sasha snarled back.

This is love.

Vlad hovered the blade over Sasha’s eye, his fingers trembling with excitement. His lips curled into a grin. “Beautiful.”

Sasha stood completely still. “Are you done? I can’t afford to waste more time with you.”

Vlad brought the knife down. He left, talking as he did. “You truly are beautiful, Sasha.”

“Wait! How do you know my name?” She called after him.

But he had already cut into an alley and disappeared.

FLOWER

Flower gnawed on the joint of her thumb. Her eyes bounced back and forth from the entrance of their home to the medical supplies laid out behind her. Next to the supplies was a worn book, opened to a diagram of a bullet wound. She paced back and forth.

“Ouch.” Flower released her thumb from her teeth. She inspected it to see two puncture wounds.

“To perform surgery, make sure your hands are steady.”

Flower frowned, watching her hand trembling in front of her. With surgery, any slight mistake could kill a person. And then, she would be the one to end their lives. Her eyes glossed over the knife lying in a pool of liquor, hoping that moonshine disinfected as well as rubbing alcohol.

A soft patter of footsteps sounded down the alley. Though it was barely audible, Flower jumped. Her mind jumped to a picture of Bolt, a hole through his chest, his face twisted in agony. He would cry out to her, begging her to save him, and she would just stand frozen, watching his life slowly drain.

She grabbed her shaking hand.
Stop.

She squeezed so hard her knuckles turned white. But that only made the shaking worse. It was all the proof she needed. She would fail.

She clasped her hands together and fell onto her knees. “God, I know I don’t really talk to you much, and most of the time, I don’t even think you exist. But right now, I need you. Please protect my family. Please be out there. Please hear me.”

“He won’t.”

Flower gasped and twisted toward the voice to see Maverick under the dim lighting of the moon. “Holy shit Mav. I thought that—” Before she could finish her sentence, her crying overwhelmed her. She broke down, hugging herself as her body quaked.

“I’m so sorry Flower, I didn’t mean it like that.” Maverick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Why are you here? Do you know anything about the others?”

Maverick shook his head.

“I can’t do this.” Flower leaned over into Maverick’s embrace. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything, you should get some rest.”

“But if something happens, how am I—”

“Flower, nothing bad will happen. I’ll stay up for you.” Maverick took her hand and helped her up. “Let’s just get you to bed.”

Flower let herself be pulled up. She took small steps toward her tent, feeling lighter with every step. Her breathing became easier and her hands stopped shaking.

What am I doing?

Flower yanked her hand out of Maverick’s grip. “No,” she told the surprised Maverick.

“Flower?”

She turned back, the weight returning to her feet. It once again felt like she was breathing syrup, but she stayed the course. “Turn on the lamp, I’ll need the fire. Also, start tearing some more bandages from my clothes.”

“What are you talking about? Flower, get a grip.”

Flower turned. “Mav, this is me getting a grip. If you’re right, and God doesn’t hear me, then I’m all you guys got. Now tear the damn bandages.”

She scanned the book, memorizing every word and picture. The most important factor in treating a gunshot wound was time, and she certainly couldn’t be wasting it reading.

“Caring for shock… disinfecting the wound… stopping the bleeding… sealing the wound…”

Every section came with its own list of materials, materials that she didn’t have. Nothing she could do about it now. Antiseptic powder became a combination of moonshine and antibiotics. The scalpel became her knife, its tip already charred black.

“Alright, I finished.” Maverick said.

“Good, I want you to get my blankets and lay it on the ground.”

“Flower,” Maverick came up to her, giving her a hard look. “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“I won’t do anything stupid. I know I’m not a doctor.”

Maverick nodded. “Alright, I’ll get your blankets then.” He made no move. “You know I have to ask, are you sure about this?”

“In the words of Sasha, who the hell do you think I am?”