Hamelin's Ashes: Part Two

Not far from the river, a man cloaked in shadows watches Piper’s revealing display. As he lied hiding in the bushes, he silently observed Posie, who had been unlucky enough to draw his interest. The observer watched the terror wash over the girl’s face and smiled with glee. Deciding he would gather intelligence on her, he watched the scene before him unfold, while the gears in his mind began to spin as he began to erect his plot.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Uh oh,” said Piper.

Upon seeing the twisted abomination that was Piper’s left arm, Posie was frozen in fear. Every fiber of her body began to shake. She wanted to scream, but all that came out was a whimper. All she could do was keep staring at the ashy claw and then into Piper’s equally bizarre, though less fearful, white pupils.

Piper saw her fear in her eye and tried to explain himself.

”Please, don’t…I’m not going to hurt you,” said Piper. Through an unconscious error in judgment, Piper reached out with his other, still bandaged hand, and stepped forward with the slightest step.

This small movement was enough to jumpstart Posie’s will to move. She lept from the ground quickly, almost stumbling back over as she got up. Without even thinking it through, she immediately turned and ran away from Piper and the river, towards Hamelin. She ran across the grassy field as fast as possible, as if her life depended on it; For all she knew, her life actually did depend on it. Her sides began to ache as she ran, but she did not stop, for death was a worse alternative to fatigue.

The swarm of rats ran near her in the opposite direction. The amount of rodents leaving the town had begun to dwindle as the number of the remaining rats in Hamelin grew ever smaller. However, Posie did not realize nor care of this fact; all that mattered was that she get far away from what they were running towards.

All her previous problems she cried for at the river suddenly became irrelevant. Posie did not look back, afraid of she might see the mysterious man she’d just met running after her, with his claw outstretched.

However, Piper was not chasing after her. He watched her small figure fade into the distance. The sight of it made his eyes widened. He looked down at his disfigured hand and the wet bandages dangling from it. Then, he once more gazed back at the figure of the young girl, who had previously cared enough for him to save him from the rushing river, but upon the sight of his arm’s true form, had taken flight to the town.

He looked down and honestly thought he might cry.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The observer, watching the events that had just unfolded, smiled to himself. The entertainment of these peons’ plight could not be denied; however, he could not allow himself to be distracted for long. The observer still had much work to do and much more intelligence to gather.

He watched the blue haired girl dash across the hill and, making sure he was just beyond the reach of sight, he followed. He took one last look at the piper; however, he quickly realized what work must be done and he could not think ahead of himself.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Posie had gotten close to the town, the run-down cottages and the Glass Coffin pub coming into view. Her eyes were drawn to the ground as she breathed heavily. Her calves felt as if the bone in her leg was about to burst through them, but she still dare not slow down. She continued to run, careless of what obstructed her.

Suddenly, she hit something solid, but soft, and fell backwards onto the ground from the sudden stoppage of her momentum. Her head knocked against the hard ground, and all she saw was the clouds in the sky, hued orange and violet as the sun had begun to set.

Posie tried to lift her head up, still dazed from the fall. She looked in front of her to see another person lying on the ground in front of her. Her daze caused her to take a moment to register that the object she hit was, in fact, a person. She rubbed her hand against the back of her head as she staggered up to her feat. However, once she got to her feet, she instantly recalled why she had been running in the first place and looked back, her heart instantly racing once again. Once she saw that she was not followed, she breathed a sigh of relief. After a few seconds, she regained her bearings and looked down at who she had hit. Once she realized who it was, she instantly ran to the person’s side.

The person Posie had hit was a girl with unusual pink hair, which was strewn on the ground from the sudden fall that had taken place. Her face was almost exactly like Posie’s, aside from the fact that she retained both of her eyes. One of her eyes was closed as she moaned in pain. She pushed herself up into a sitting position, rubbing the back of her head.

“Damn, Posie,” said the girl, grunting in soreness, “Most people look forward when they’re running like hell.”

”Oh God, Rosie, I’m so sorry,” said Posie to her twin, quickly, immediately reaching down to help her up. “I was just running and I didn’t see you and- oh God, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”

”Calm down,” said Rosie as Posie helped her to her feet. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Don’t have a heart attack.” Rosie brushed off the dirt on her clothes. She rubbed the back of her head once to confirm there was no bleeding. After a moment, she turned to Posie and gave a small smile. Posie, still feeling foolish from her fault in this collision, did not return it.

”So,” said Rosie, “where’s the fire?”

Posie, preoccupied with her fault, didn’t register her meaning right away.

”What?” she asked.

Rosie giggled briefly.

”You were just running like you were being chased by a giant or something. Why?” said Rosie, being as direct as always.

Posie put one hand on her other arm, and began to rub it around the elbow.

”I… I saw something at the river…” said Posie.

”What have I told you about going to that river?” said Rosie, putting her hands on her hips. “You don’t need to go there all the time. It’s not healthy.”

”You go to the forest all the time,” said Posie, in a timid retort. “How’s that any different?”

”That’s different,” said Rosie. “Mom didn’t-“

Posie closed her one remaining eye, as if she had just been stung, just as Rosie realized her mistake in bringing up the subject. Rosie’s eyes grew wider as she saw Posie’s expression, for the first time since their meeting today breaking her tough exterior.

”I…I didn’t-“ said Rosie, but Posie cut her off.

“I know, just forget it,” said Posie, her eyes getting welled up. No tears came as her eyes were bone dry from her earlier excursion to the river.

”So, what were you running from?” said Rosie, trying to get away from the subject of mother as much as possible.

Posie paused briefly, then spoke.

”It… there was this guy…” she said. “He played a flute and…he seemed really nice at first. Then the rats came and-“

”Oh right,” said Rosie, with insight. “Everyone in town’s talking about that. All the rats have pretty much left now, except for one going to the river here and there. Nobody knows why though.”

”It…it was him. The flute did it,” said Posie, rubbing the back of her neck.

Rosie raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

”Are…you sure? That seems pretty… out there,” she said.

”It’s true,” said Posie, with certainty. “But then, he fell in the river and…”

Rosie’s eyes widened with worry.

”Oh God, he didn’t…” she began, but Posie quickly quelled her fear.

”No, it’s not like that. I help him out before he got swept away, but… he had these bandages on his arm and they got wet and came off and...” Posie stammered to find the words to complete her run-on sentence. Her mind and all the logic she had come to understand grappled with some way to explain this. “His arms looked… and his eyes were like…”

Rosie looked at Posie directly in her eye, concerned as Posie struggled. Finally, Posie gave up trying to explain it.

”I just had to run away, okay? I don’t even want to think about it!” she said.

Rosie folded her arms and looked Posie up and down. She was obviously displeased with Posie’s unwillingness to describe the incident further, but since she felt guilty about bringing up Mom, she declined to press further

”You sure you’ll be okay?” said Rosie.

”Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine” said Posie, her mind replaying back to the unfurling of Piper’s bandages, and her sight of his blackened, monstrous arm. Even imagining it almost made Posie shake with terror.

“So anyway,” said Posie, trying to take her mind off Piper, “what are you doing out here?”

Rosie’s face immediately fell and she unfolded her arms. She broke away eye contact with Posie and looked behind her, towards Hamelin. By her expression, Posie knew the answer even before she opened her mouth.

”Dad,” said Rosie, sadly.

Posie looked down and, unconsciously, her hand went to her forehead. She felt her sink into her chest.

”Oh,” she said, disheartened.

”He…” began Rosie, still not making eye contact. “He wanted me to get you...”

After a moment, Rosie looked back at the saddened expression on Posie’s face.

“I can say I couldn’t find you… if you want,” said Rosie.

”It’s okay,” said Posie. She knew that Rosie’s request would only prolong the inevitable and, more importantly, make it harder on Rosie.

Rosie nodded absently.

”Okay,” she said.

The twins looked at each other and silently agreed to walk back to the house. As they began to walk back into town, Rosie briefly looked back towards the trees a short distance away. The hairs on the back of her neck had begun to stand up, and she felt as if she was watched. After a moment of looking at the trees, she dismissed it as paranoia and walked away.

The eyes of the observer followed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“You did WHAT?!” shouted Thrushbeard the Eleventh, slamming his fist against the mayor’s table, with the other three members of the City Council sitting next to him. The rickety table rattled violently once his large fist slammed against it. He glanced to each one of the other members, each one glaring at the mayor upon hearing his story. Each gaze was so hard, it was as if each one wished their gaze could physically pierce through the mayor’s brain after his gigantic and idiotic mistake.

The mayor sweated and looked down at the table, ashamed. “I…said we would pay one shilling for each rat...” he said, before trailing off into an incoherent mutter.

Thrushbeard rubbed his large, red beard. Sitting in the chair next to him, the thin Councilman Blue put his hand to his head.

”Why…why the hell would you say that? I mean, no rats is great, but we can’t afford that!” he said.

”I didn’t think he’d actually do it!” said the mayor, scratching his arms nervously.

“Yeah, I can see that as a perfectly good reason to promise him the entire town economy, dumbass!” said Blue.

The mayor continued to stare down at the table. There was no denying the fact that this was his fault.

Sitting to the right of the mayor, the short, stocky Councilman Horner put his hands out in front of him and gestured them downward.

”Now, everyone just calm down,” said Horner. “Yelling isn’t gonna solve anything. Now, we need to figure out a way out of this.”

To the left of the mayor, the large, bald Councilman Drury leaned back in his chair with his arms folded, creating a squeaking sound.

“Well, what are we supposed to do?” said Drury. “Thanks to old mayor promising that weird fella all that money, without the consent of the Council, I might add, we’re up s&$% creek without a paddle. There must have been tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, rats that ran out of town. We can’t pay for all those rats by ourselves.”

Thrushbeard thumbed his fingers against the table.

“And we can’t expect any aid from the national government. The Queen doesn’t exactly hand out money to backwater western towns like us,” he said.

The mayor continued to sweat and look down at the table. Thrushbeard noticed this and banged his fist again on the table, startling the mayor and forcing him to look up.

”Well mayor,” said Thrushbeard, with malice, “since you seem to be so good at making decisions, what should we do now?”

The mayor twiddled his thumbs together nervously.

”Well…maybe we there’s some loophole in the town charter or something,” said the mayor, glancing up to Thrushbeard, anticipating his retort.

“The town charter was written sixty years ago by our paranoid founders, whose chief concern was keeping the town free of witches,” said Thrushbeard, rubbing his beard. “I seriously doubt anything they wrote will help us.” His statement was not an exaggeration. Hamelin had, in fact, been founded by a group of refugees, whose entire previous had been engulfed in a towering inferno. The fire had apparently originated in a farm house, where a broken lantern and many bails of hay were found. The original mayor of Hamelin, Artemis Sprat, immediately blamed witches claiming it was the only logical explanation.

Mayors of Hamelin were not exactly known for their deductive reasoning.

Councilman Horner shrugged his shoulders and pulled out an old, dusty book. The edges of the cover were worn, and the pages had been dog-eared beyond all reason. On the front were the words “Hamelin Charter” written in fancy, cursive handwriting.

”Well, it couldn’t hurt to look,” said Horner, thumping the book on the table and looking through the first few pages. He began to read it out load. “’We the people of Hamelin herby found this town under the following principles which must be adhered to above all others. First, all witches found are to be immediately stoned to death.”

Thrushbeard rolled his eyes as Horner continued. He put his chin in his hand as he listened to this asinine display.

“Second, all townsfolk are to be treated equally and no discrimination on accounts of bigotry or status will be tolerated, except for those filthy witches, who are to be immediately stoned, as previously stated.”

”This is ridiculous,” muttered Thrushbeard.

“Third, matters of the state-“

Thrushbeard, not able to handle this, reached his massive hand over the table and snatched the book away from Horner, much to his surprise and alarm.

”Look, if you expect to find our salvation in this…this rag, then you’re-“

However, halfway though his sentence, Thrushbeard’s eyes fell on the third rule stated in the town charter. He read it for a moment, then reread it to make sure he had heard right.

The mayor looked over at Thrushbeard as his eyes lit up.

”Umm…weren’t you saying som-“

”Shut up,” said Thrushbeard, his eyes not leaving the book. “Listen to this…”

Thrushbeard read the third rule of the town charter. Immediately, the mayor and the councilman looked at each other, smiling.

The twenty-ninth mayor of Hamelin, Fredrick Porgie, smiled, finally certain he could correct the economical turmoil he had put the town in.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rosie and Posie reached the outside of their rather unappealing cottage. For a few minutes, Posie stood staring at the door, justifiably hesitant to enter. She felt her whole body stiffen at the thought of this.

Out of the corner of her single eye, Posie saw Rosie staring at her, obviously aware of her turmoil.

”You sure you want to? I can still say I couldn’t find you,” said Rosie, concerned.

Posie shook her head, not wanting to make her sister’s life more difficult.

Rosie reluctantly nodded and stared back at the door. Her eyes narrowed into an expression Posie had often saw her have; in that expression, she saw both malice and fear.

“Okay,” said Rosie finally, walking in front of Posie. She reached for the doorknob, hesitated for just another moment, then opened the door. Posie followed slowly and cautiously.

The inside of the cottage was dark and musky. Once Posie stepped inside, she was immediately hit the familiar smell of alcohol that stung the insides of her nostrils. Sitting in a chair near the door was a rocking chair. Seated in it was her father, his large form collapsed in the chair. His eyes looked diluted and distant. As Posie walk closer at the heels of Rosie, the smell got stronger. Posie felt as if her joints had become like iron bars, difficult to move as her familiar apprehension arose in her heart.

Her father stirred in the chair, running his messy, red hair out of his eyes. He looked at Rosie.

”Wha’ took ya so long?” said Dad, slurring so bad he was barely coherent.

Rosie tried to maintain a blank expression, devoid of emotion, but Posie could almost feel the malice Rosie felt towards him.

“I couldn’t find her right away,” said Rosie, not looking her father directly in the eye.

Their father let out a laugh that graded at the inside of Posie’s head. The very sound of it was enough to send chills down her spine.

”Don’t gimme that bulls$%&,” he said. “When I tell you to do somethin’, you do it…you just trying to keep her away…dammit.”

”You don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Rosie, attempting to walk past the chair. Her father glared as she walked by and quickly jumped out of the chair, startling Posie so much she stepped back a few steps. Just as Rosie turned to see him, she felt the blow of the back of his knuckles against her head. Rosie clattered to the wooden floor, instinctively putting her hand to her head.

”Don’t you f%$&ing get smart with me, you c%$#!” shouted Dad, looming over Rosie.

Rosie glared back up at him; the gaze was so full of hatred it was enough to make a priest cross himself at the sight of it.

Her father reached down and began to grip her pink hair. The sight of this immediately triggered Posie’s nerve and she almost unconsciously rushed forward and took a hold of her father’s arm. Her dad released his grip on Rosie’s arm and swung it out at Posie, causing her to fall backwards and knock her head against the wall of the house. She looked at her father, furious. She began to shake as if she had been thrown into the snow naked.

“Don’t you EVER touch me!” said her father, almost stumbling as he walked towards her. He turned back and looked at Rosie, who was standing up and gazing at what he was about to do in fear.

“Get away from here if ya don’t want somethin’ to really cry about,” he said.

”It’s not her fault,” said Rosie, pleading despite her hatred for him. “You can’t just-“

”If you don’t get away I’ll cut her f%$# throat! D’you want that?!” he said.

Rosie, despite her best efforts, showed terror on her face. She looked over to Posie, as if asking her what to do. Posie, not wishing her sister to sustain more damage, simply nodded. They silently understood each other, however Rosie was extreamly reluctant. Posie nodded her head towards Rosie’s room roughly, and Rosie walked over there, giving her one last sympathetic look.

Once she left, her father stumbled over to the corner of the room and grabbed a hardwood cane. He held it by the rod, keeping the rounded grip outward. He walked slowly over to Posie, steaming in anger.

Posie sat against the wall and closed her eyes quickly as the cane came down repeatedly upon her.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Soon after, night fell on the village of Hamelin. The hours ticked slowly by, and soon everyone were snug in their beds, enjoying that they no longer had to worry about rats crawling on them as they slept. Soon, even the patrons of the Glass Coffin staggered back to their homes, barely able to see straight.

In the dead of night, one houses door creaked open. Posie carefully emerged from the house into the night. The luminous orb hung high in the sky, dimly lighting the empty streets of the town. Posie began to run down to the river, her hand held periodically returning to her single eye as she ran.

As she reached the river, which shone brightly under the light of the moon, she looked around, to make certain the piper was no longer there. She imagined he must have taken flight after their encounter the other day. In truth, Posie was not certain why she returned to the river so soon after that experience, but she felt compelled to. The river was the only place she could express her feelings.

Once again, she sat at the rivers edge. Her eye began to burn and her vision became hazed. She let her resistance break down and allowed the tears to flow freely. As she sobbed, she once again put her hand to her remaining eye.

Her sobbing was so loud she did not even hear him come behind her. He looked down at her, his heart sinking at the sight of seeing a young girl cry. He found it difficult to speak, as there was no proper thing to say to someone in a situation like this, but he finally managed to say something to indicate his prescience.

“Are you alright?” he said softly.

Posie whipped around, putting her hand down to view the man. Two discs in front of his eyes reflected the moonlight, and after a minute she realized they were Piper’s glasses. She began to get to her feet but Piper put his hands up in front of him, showing her they were bandaged.

“Look, my hands are fine now. I…I’m not going to…” The sight of her sobbing continued to ring at his heart. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, as gently as he could.

For some reason, she did not run. Something in his voice reminded her how nice he was prior to her discovery of his arms form. She realized he was really a person. However, she still did not want anyone to see her like this.

”Please…just go,” said Posie, choking back the sobs.

Piper, despite her wishes, stepped closer.

”Look, I-“ he said, but stopped in his tracks as he saw her face. The closer view had allowed the lighting to illuminate the dark purple bruise engulfing her entire remaining eye. Behind his glasses, Piper’s eyes widened.

”God, what happened to you?” said Piper.

Posie realized her eye was exposed and turned away. Tears continued to come out of her eye.

”Just go away,” she insisted. However, Piper walked over to the river. He reached to the sleeve of his shirt and tore a piece of it off with a quick jerk. He took the severed piece of cloth and soaked it in the river. Perplexed, Posie watched as Piper walked over and handed her the cloth.

”Put that on your eye. It should help,” he said, gently.

Posie stared at the cloth for a moment. She looked up at Piper and briefly wondered how she could have ever thought this man would have come after her back at the river. She took the cloth and put it to the side of her eye, so she would still be able to see.

”Thanks,” she said. Piper sat down a short distance away from her. He took off his glasses, once again revealing his white pupils. While she perceived them as fearsome and unnatural before, she now saw the sad expression within them. She realized he was not a monster and she could have hurt his feelings earlier that day.

”I’m…I’m sorry I ran earlier,” she said, softly, now ashamed of her behavior. “I…I just…”

”Its fine,” said Piper, looking down at the river. “I probably would have done the same thing in your shoes.” He once again turned to look at Posie. “What happened to your eye?”

Posie turned away from him and didn’t reply.

”Did someone…hit you?” asked Piper. “Is that why you were crying earlier to?”

Posie still didn’t reply. Piper was realized he was treading into tender territory and backed off.

”I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s none of my business anyway. I just-”

“It was my dad, alright! Are you happy now?” snapped Posie, narrowing her eye at him. Posie was surprised the instant the words came out of her mouth. Other than Rosie, no one knew of their situation, yet she willingly gave the information to Piper without much thought. Perhaps it was because she was not used to someone other than Rosie offering her kindness or perhaps it was simply because the pain of keeping it inside had finally become too much. She couldn’t pinpoint the exact answer.

Piper stared at her wide eyed and broke eye contact with her. He wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could think off to do so. He sat silently for a while, thinking intensely. Finally, he said something weakly.

”I’m sorry. No one should have to go through that. I know how you feel,” said Piper.

Posie folded her knees up to her chest to sit in the fetal position. She shifted the wet cloth on her eye to wet more of her eye.

”You don’t know anything about how I feel,” she said, quietly. Posie had always felt like she and her sister were alone in the world, and that no one could possibly relate to what they have had to endure.

Piper looked at her for a moment, wondering how much of himself he should reveal. Because he was sympathetic for her, he felt an overwhelming urge to tell her the story she had never told anyway.

”I never knew my parents,” said Piper, causing Posie to turn towards him, shifting the cloth so she could see the pained look on his face. He rubbed his temple as he arose memories he felt were better left forgotten. “I spent most of my life in an orphanage…never really fit in with anyone. I was finally adopted by someone though…but…” Piper struggled to find the words. “But he was a bad man.”

Posie’s eye widened, surprised he had undergone similar turmoil to hers. However, Piper shook his head and corrected himself.

”No, no I’m wrong,” said Piper.

”You…mean he wasn’t bad,” said Posie, hesitant to upset Piper.

”No, he was bad,” said Piper. “He’s the single worst thing to ever come out of this world. I meant I was wrong when I said he was a man. The only thought that keeps me sane is thinking that someone with a mind like his couldn’t possibly be human.”

”What did he do to you?” said Posie, hesitantly.

”Too much to count,” he said. “But among other things…” Piper raised his bandaged left hand up and pointed to it with his other hand. “He gave me this. This…disease.”

Posie stared in awe, wondering how someone could willingly turn Piper into a monstrosity.

“It’s a disease?” asked Posie.

Piper looked at his bandaged hand.

”Yeah. I’m a carrier for the disease. ” He put his bandaged hand over his face. “I can’t die from it…but if I so much as touch someone with my hand unbandaged…I have to watch them die…he forced me to be a carrier. He injected me with the Plague. He…he made me give it to people. Then…” Piper began to breath heavily, obviously upset. “Then he made me watch them die from it.”

Posie heart felt like it had been gripped by a cold, icy claw. Posie knew her situation was bad, but never once did she imagine someone could have it worse than she did.  Piper had been forced into a life so horrible Posie now began to shed tears, not for herself, but for him.

“I…I’m sorry,” said Posie, more tears streaming from beneath the cloth.

Piper pulled his hand away from his face. The sad expression remained on his face, but he seemed either unable to cry or extremely resistant to the urge.

“It’s okay,” said Piper, almost overwhelmed by grim reminiscence.
Posie, looking into his sad white eye, looked down at the river. She suddenly felt obligated to share her tale with him, after the courage he exhibited in telling his.

”It wasn’t always like this for me, you know?” said Posie. “Dad wasn’t like this. Back when Mom was alive, we were all pretty happy.” Posie looked down, sadly. “At least…we all seemed happy. Mom wasn’t.”

”Was she sick?” asked Piper, calmly so that she would not be further upset.

”No,” said Posie. She almost thought she could not continue, as the pain of the memory was too strong, but she forced herself to continue. Her voice crackled a little bit as she spoke further.

”Mom killed herself.”

Piper, not expecting this, suddenly felt as if he saw the full extent of the pain this girl had been forced to endure. However, as she continued, he saw it was much worse.

”She drowned herself,” continued Posie. “In this river.”

”Dear God,” whispered Piper.

“And...and I was the one who found her.”

Upon hearing this, Piper’s eyes began to well up and two tears came from his eyes. He put his hand over his eyes. Piper felt as if there was nothing he could say that could make her feel any better.

Posie looked down at the river. She remembered that day as clear as day. She remembered the walk down to the river to fetch a pail of water. She remembered putting the pail in the river and noticing something a little further down the stream. She had walked down the river and saw it. She remembered her mom’s body caught against some rocks on the river. She remembered her pale, pruned skin and the sight of her eyelids open, showing her eyes folded up into her socket, the back of her optical nerves in open air. Posie remembered pulling her mom from the river and foolishly pleading with her to wake up.

Most of all, she remembered the moment she realized she would never wake up again.

She didn’t sob, even though she wanted to. She didn’t want to make Piper feel more upset because of her than she already had. Sobbing more would only make both of them feel worse.

”That night,” she continued. “Dad got went to the Glass Coffin and got really drunk. I’ve never seen him that drunk since. He came in the house and…and I got in the way.” She pointed to the patch over her empty eyesocket. “He did that.”

She did not remember this event much. Remembering the memory was difficult; it was hazy almost incomprehensible, like trying to read a book underwater. She remembered Dad busting into the cottage at three in the morning, almost falling through the door as he entered. She recalled going to him, uncertain if he was alright or not. He struck her and she fell to the floor. From there, the memory began to erode. She only remembered bits and pieces. Enduring more cracks against her face. Dad yelling, blaming Mom’s death on her. The sight of the knife. Seeing it draw closer. She felt a sharp, indescribable pain and remember seeing only a red splotch in her eye. She would never see anything from that eye again.

She broke away from the memory and saw Piper’s hand completely covering his face. He was not sobbing, but she could tell his eyes were wet.

”I’m sorry, I’m just making you feel worse,” said Posie, feeling her resistance to cry wane as the sob in her throat urged to break free.
Piper wiped the tears stilled in his eye away.

”I shouldn’t have pried,” said Piper, upset with himself. “Making you relive all that…I’d never want anyone to have to remember that.”

Posie saw that Piper above anything else wanted her to be cheered up, and the thought of doing the opposite filled him with self-anger. Posie tried to think of a way to allow him to feel better by fulfilling his wish.

”Piper…could you do me a favor?” asked Posie.

”Yes?” said Piper, willing to do anything to make up for his fault in forcing her to remember such tragedy.

”Could you play that song again? The one you played here earlier?” asked Posie.

Piper stared at Posie for a minute, then forced himself to smile.

”Of course,” he said.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out his flute, which was luckily undamaged from Piper’s accident at the river. He put the flute to his lips and played the serenade once more. Just like last time, her tragic memories seemed more distant as she heard the song. The song seemed unearthly, as if magically made her worries fade away, even if just for a moment.

As Piper played, Posie scooted closer to him, feeling comfort in being near this man. She had finally found someone who understood her plight, and the thought of someone like that caring about her filled her heart with an unnamable joy.

Piper looked out of the corner of her eye and saw that she was smiling, despite the tears still lingering on her face. He felt relieved and was glad he had not saddened her to the point of no return. After their exchange of tales, he felt as if she was the sister he never had.

But at the same time, the dark part of his mind lingered to Posie’s father, who dared to abuse her for reasons that were beyond her control to begin with. And that dark part of his mind urged him to go to their house tomorrow, and confront this awful man. He didn’t know what he would do when he got there, but he was afraid of his own capabilities; he knew he could make this man suffer and die. What was worse was that he knew he wouldn’t feel too bad if he actually did.

However, he blocked this out of his mind temporarily, focusing on the song that filled Posie with happiness.

He never wanted her happiness to end.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Not far from the duo, a single rat, drawn by the power of the song, crawled past the foot of the observer. The observer lifted his foot and smashed it down on the rat’s head. He twisted his foot, crushing it a peanut shell, making a small splash of pink and red stain on the grass. The observer smiled with his crooked teeth. He had gathered all the information he needed thanks to their recent dialogue.

He had all the information he needed to get revenge on Piper for running from him, and for stealing what was rightfully his.

He straightened his goggles on his face. The wind blew, moving his graying hair. His forehead was high as his hairline had begun to recede. He thumbed his crooked fingers together.

As he finally concluded his plan inside his head, Dr. Crooked began to laugh at his own brilliance.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
End of Part Two