"Mum?"
"Yeah?", she looks up, as she pulls on a pair of socks. It's winter now, and the tiles are getting especially chilly.
"What made you become a surgeon? I mean, isn't it strange to be operating on food?", boredom births questions.
She snorts as if I just told a really funny joke.
"Trust me, it isn't like that, Kiev", she finally says.
"Then, what? What is it like?"
"Well, you have to understand, that humans are people just like us. And when you're working on a real, live person, with blood flowing through their bodies, it's really different to the square of meat you eat for lunch, you know", she looks at me meaningfully, as I wonder what's taking Autry so long today. It's already six, and he still hasn't come home. When I don't look convinced, she adds; "And ghouls need surgeons too - non-human ones that won't get confused when they see an RC organ sitting in their patient"
"What's RC?". I think I vaguely remember learning something about that and how they can be found in both ghouls and humans, but I couldn't be sure. It was just so long ago.
"Don't worry; I'll explain it to you properly, later". I get the feeling that 'later' wouldn't be anytime soon.
We both hear the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting closed, and turn in the direction of my breathless brother. He looks completely shocked and his voice comes out slightly shaky and nervous when he says,
"Sorry I'm late". He looks like a cornered rabbit, with his back and palms pressed firmly against the door.
"Whatever's the matter?", mum looks stricken.
"No , I", Autry starts breathing a little normally now, "-I think it could've just been my imagination"
"What was your imagination?", I can sense the rising panic in the room. And it's getting to me.
"Doves . . .", Autry whispers the word like a curse, in the way characters in Har*y Pot*er say the name 'Volderm*rt.'
"Are you sure?" mum sounds surprisingly calm.
"No, they were just men carrying around silver cases that looked like they . . ."
" . . .quinques", mum says it with disgust. I knew what they were. From what I'd heard, they were weapons made from the parts of ghouls that Doves (ghoul investigators) had killed. Then those weapons were used to kill more ghouls and collect more weapons. They attacked us with what we used to defend ourselves. It was almost ironical in a really sick sense. But then I remember what my mum said about everyone being people. But I eat people for lunch. Literally. I eat them for dinner too. -I don't have them for breakfast though, because we just have a cup of black coffee every morning.
Autry suddenly jumps back when the door shakes. Someone has just knocked. At our door. It could be an investigator. Come to kill us all.
................................................................................................................................
Okay . . . so I was super confused about the way I spelled 'quinque' here, because google images gave me pictures of old oil lamps . . . (Well there were pictures of a couple ghoul investigators dispersed further down, so it's probably just a coincidence . . .)
-I'm just guessing it's got something to do with the word meaning something else, in another language(I don't recognise it, but guess that it's Italian).