Hymn of Ame (COMPLETED)

[07] On The Fritz

"I say. . ." He starts toward us, making me step back. My heart has missed a beat when I realize the heel of my foot is no longer on a surface; I'm barely on the parapet wall, kept there only with one frozen leg. With a yelp, I jerk down to the floor. "If she wanted advice," Eirone adds, still advancing to us, "it wouldn't be from you."

"And what does that mean?" I say. The closer he gets to us, the worse his grin becomes. The lines in his face become more frightening, carved sharply like the stones in hell; it makes my hair stand on ends.

"It means you have no right to tell her not to run away," he says matter-of-factly. He stops advancing; it's a moment of mercy. I breathe in, out, and then in again, until I'm gasping for breath like a fish out of water. "After all that's what all you've done."

I don't reply. I have nothing to reply. I can only chew on the inside of my cheek. Guilty. Because he's right.

The guy laughs. It's not a very pleasant sound. It's a kind of laughter I usually hear from horror movies, booming and sickening.

Know your friends well. Not all of them are sheep, some of them may be actual wolves waiting for the opportunity to strike.

"Does that hurt?" says the guy maniacally, his eyes popping out as he mocks me. "Does that hurt, huh?"

"Who are you?" I'm shocked at how level my voice is. "Where's Eirone?"

I assume he would advance again when his feet move, but he only shifts in his spot. Regardless, I hide Fritz behind me protectively. Whoever he is, that grin is not something a kind person will do. I sneak a look at Fritz, she doesn't seem aware of what's happening. I have thought of snatching her from the parapet wall and dragging her away from this guy, but how can I do all that?

I size the guy up. He is built like a runner, lean and thin, with toned lower legs and a slim upper body. Next I look at the exit, almost longingly. No good, too far, I tell myself. We're done before we could even reach it. Think, I tell myself. Fighting him is out of the question.

The guy laughs again. I want to put something in his mouth. The sight of his tonsils is already bad, hearing the sound he makes is torture.

"You have no time to worry about others, don't you think?" He laughs again. "You were like that before! Selfish as you were, you could think less of others! Run alone, why don't you?"

I wonder how to silence him. I ball my skirt up, thinking what's wrong. There's something wrong about what he says. Or is it the way he says it? I try to look into the possible second meaning behind it that I've probably missed, but the words sound like how it's supposed to be: I'm selfish. There's an unsettling feeling in me though, and it arises upon his words. What is it, I don't know.

"Who are you?" My words are clear, and it demands an answer.

He laughs again.

I'm not prepared for what I see next.

His face spasms, like there's something moving beneath his skin. Then it happens again. I realize he's morphing. His skin peels off starting from his forehead down. I expect to see crimson flesh, but it is replaced by another skin, way darker than the usual, and way more wrinkled. He is like a snake. When the transformation is done, I correct myself: it's a she, not he.

She has greasy long, black hair, a funnel nose, and sallow skin. For some reason, she looks familiar. I think I've seen her one time Fritz and I are going home - she's watching us from the shadow of the alleyway. My heart swells up with pride for not flinching under her cruel scrutiny. But it's premature to celebrate I've realized, because when she smiles, her lips peeling back from her mossy teeth, I don't just flinch, I literally back away.