Blythe's Wheelbarrow

Chapter 3

There was a girl there. A seemingly dead girl.

Time seemed to come to a standstill at that instant. Theodoric just stared. He seemed to filter out everything – the sound of Adelbrecht stomping towards him, the fact he was supposed to be running away. It was just him, his heart thumping in his ears, face to face and nose to nose with the dead body with its head lolled limply to the side. His eyes widened in utmost horror.

She didn’t seem to be much older than him at all – thirteen years at the oldest. Her hair was a tousled mess of mousy brown, although it might have just been a dirty blonde. Her face was deathly pale. She was wearing a sort of soggy water-logged white nightgown, which completely contradicted the untied leather hiking boots that were far too big for her feet, and one mud-coated cream glove on her left hand. She was also completely soaked in some sort of liquid substance, Theodoric noted, as if she’d just stepped out of the shower fully clothed. Her eyes were half closed; he could just see the whites of her eyes, although they looked horribly yellow and sickly, and there was a massive gash in head. Blood, thinned and exaggerated by the water, was pouring through her temples and flowing down her face, along the ridges of her petite facial features and reddening her lips. She was curled in the foetus position, hands hugging her knees flaccidly. Theodoric felt his stomach lurch.

“Oh, god—“

He clenched his eyes shut, hoping it was all just a big nightmare. He wanted to run away as fast as possible, but somehow, as if drawn by some sick curiosity, he slowly reached out his hand and brushed his fingers oh-so-lightly against the girl’s bloody cheek. He recoiled almost immediately. She was damp and absolutely freezing. Theodoric opened his mouth to yell, but nothing came out. Just a pathetic rasping sound.

Oh, why couldn’t Adelbrecht have found me! If he had, this wouldn’t have happened! Why can’t he locate me already? Then he can explain this is all a nightmare and I can wake up...

“Wuff!”

“Aaaaaargh!”

Theodoric screamed as loud as he could, blood pounding in his head. Suddenly Woensdag, the twin’s dog, rushed out of nowhere and flung her body at Theodoric, knocking him down to the knees of the corpse! She gave him a humongous lick right across his face with her tongue.

“W-Woensdag! Get off me! Bring me your master!”

Woensdag’s floppy ears twitched a little and she sat up stiffly, cocking her head in confusion. Theodoric groaned.

“Find help!” he repeated. He pushed her massive paws off and staggered upright, head spinning.

Rather than obeying Theodoric, Woensdag hunched her shoulders and began snuffling around in the dirt and poking her wrinkly muzzle into the ground. She caught sight of the seemingly lifeless body and emitted a low growl.

“Wuff!” She barked again.

Theodoric’s eyes widened as Woensdag creeped closer towards the body. He wanted to reach out and pull her back by the scruff of her wrinkly terracotta neck, but it was like he was frozen. Woensdag sniffed the rim of the girl's mudstained and bloodstained dress, ears flat against her mongrel flearidden head, whining a little.

And then, without warning, Woensdag suddenly charged forward and chomped her jaws down on the girl's gloveless arm as hard as she could.

At first, Theodoric was terrified that Woensdag was trying to eat the girl. He clamped his hands to his mouth, preparing to throw up. But he was even more petrified when the supposedly dead child sat sharply up from her curled position, opened her eyes and let out a bloodcurdling scream.