MonsterVille
Thirty Nine

Indreas’ breath was hot on her cheek. He leant into her, his arm twisting, claws scrapping along bone, while she stared at him. Transfixed by the emptiness of his eyes. He had seemed mirthful, funny even—he wore his human façade well. But there was no humanity in his soulless gaze, nothing but primal satisfaction. Amusement. The desire to do as he willed and to be unquestioned.

His free hand caressed her cheek, leaving a smear of blood on her cold pale flesh. His fingers clenched on her jaw, forced her head to turn. To see the utter devastation on her mother’s face. Analyn’s eyes watered, her lip trembled. Mellie had never seen such vulnerability in her mother, never seen the slightest sign that she truly cared about her daughter. Being a monster didn’t mean she couldn’t love, and for the first time in Mellie’s life she could see it, could feel it.

All of the pain and heartache was forgotten in that instant, bleeding away into the abyss of a non-reality. It didn’t matter anymore. All she wanted was to reach out and wipe those tears away, to wrap her arms around her mother and hug her. She couldn’t actually remember hugging her mother. Funny, such a simple thing, and Mellie couldn’t recall a single instance in her life.

“And now as the life bleeds from this shell of a body,” Indreas mused, “Analyn will finally be free of those last quarrelsome traces of humanity.”

“Fu—”

Indreas bloody fingers pressed to her lips. It occurred to her his arm was now the only thing holding her up. Without his support her strings would be cut and she would fall. Faceplant in front of all the gathered monsters. It also occurred to her about ten seconds after that she would bleed to death. The pressure of his arm inside her was the only thing preventing every last drop of her precious blood from pouring out.

“Can you see it?” Indreas asked, “Those last vestiges fading away. She will be pure again, like she was before you blighted her.”

Analyn closed her eyes. Mellie saw it. Saw Analyn trying to collect herself, to brace herself, to separate emotion from survival. It was the mathematics of tears. Mellie was going to die, there was nothing anyone could do to save her now—trying would just get Analyn killed, and at her core Analyn was a survivor. She always had been, always would be.

Analyn’s trembles stilled, she took a deep breath and when she opened her eyes they were clear. Resolute. Mellie didn’t blame her, but with her last fleeting breaths she wished she could hear her mother say those words. Just once. It was all she wanted.

Blood dribbled down Mellie’s lips, her vision narrowed to pinpricks and she sighed.

One final sigh.

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