Quill

Chapter 13: Is Responsible

A peaceful, solemn walk, is one that does not come along every day.

The sunlight peering through the leaves of trees a meter high, the birds singing their messages to each other, and babbling streams flourishing nearby like hushed whispers.

One quick glance down at Norman's bloodstained jacket instantly brought him back to reality.

Readjusting his grasp under Tiara's legs, he postured himself better while lifting her back in a quick second. The torn jacket sleeve around her neck was stained with an excessive amount of dried blood, soaking the entire sleeve in a deep red hue.

The fact that she was still alive after that officer's life-crushing grasp was truly a miracle.

Tiara remained as still as the swan statues Norman passed by, welcoming him back towards the shopping circle.

Small amounts of townsfolk roamed around, some with purchases, some going to make purchases.

With the diminishing crowd walking to this store and that, Norman waited for an opening, wanting to avoid eyes or suspicion.

A man holding a young girl with a blood-soaked throat would be likely to draw stares.

He looked near his glassware shoppe, thinking how to make it over without attracting attention. Norman moved to the side of the shopping circle, looking around slightly before walking behind the back of the shoppes on the right.

Where his shoppe was located as well.

Norman continued to walk, looking at the back doors of every shoppe he passed. He glanced down, the young Swan Candidate not making a single sound or movement. He lifted his head towards the back entrances again, trying to avoid any and all negative thoughts about her condition.

Feeling like an eternity, Norman finally laid eyes on his shoppe's back entrance, walking towards it at a quicker pace.

Not feeling like having to reach for his keys to open the door, he pounded against the doorframe with a free fist.

No answer.

Sighing angrily, Norman shifted his grasp on Tiara, knocking repeatedly against the door.

Staring straight at the door, the pitter patter of work shoes was heard dashing to the rear door.

   "S-sorry Mr. Stonelock! I was all the way in the front," Warren said, out of breath.

   "Understandable," Norman replied, pushing his way past Warren.

The disheveled look of his boss was the least of his concern, having many questions of his overall situation.

   "I-Is she okay? Why is there blood on your jacket?!"

   "Warren! Open the stock room for me now. I'd do it myself, bu-"

   "Oh, I get it! I get it!" Warren rushed his words, sprinting to the stock room to the left of the rear exit, grabbing a hold of the knob.

Warren twisted the doorknob, opening the door to its maximum as Norman ran in with the young girl.

Placing the Swan Candidate down gently, Norman took his bloodstained jacket off at the speed of light. He rolled it up and tossed it out of the stock room's entrance.

Kneeling down beside Tiara, he tilted her head back in order to make her blood flow easier. He stood, searching several boxes on the top shelves behind Tiara, frantically rummaging. Seconds passed before he withdrew a roll of gauze from one of the boxes, kneeling back down instantly.