The ground underneath Emily's feet stopped quivering. The scent of fear and awe dissipated as she stared up at the slumbering ENGINE above as if it didn't make every mortal kneel a minute ago. Tears trickled down Emily's cheeks as she rubbed her face. Her eyes widened when she noticed her flesh was not singed. Her eyes darted from side to side as citizens slowly rose to their feet, basking in the ENGINE'S eldritch magnificence.
Emily's heart thumped in her chest like a caged lion. A voice echoed deep within, a roar that demanded release. A subtle hum rang in her ear that buzzed like an annoying gnat. Her left eye shimmered a mulberry hue for a moment, like a collapsing nebula as sunlight kissed her face.
"₩ⱧɎ ₥Ɇ?" She whispered to herself as she looked down, avoiding the stares of citizens.
"Why was I not chosen!?" A citizen barked as he threw his hat to the ground. "I trained all my life, gave generous amounts of wealth to charity...and for what?!"
The citizen's nostrils flared as he turned his head towards Emily. "You!? The ENGINE chose you!? A street rat...this has to be a mistake!"
"Do not question the ENGINE...it sees what we can not!" Another citizen retorted.
"She is just fodder for the actual PRIME," A flamboyant citizen interjected as he rolled his eyes at Emily, as the crowd erupted into arguments.
Emily rubbed her shoulder as a frown formed on her face. The voice in her chest roared again, demanding to be let out, but Emily refused to acknowledge its presence. She closed her eyes as the hum turned to chest-pounding bass that was toning out the crowd. Her mind went blank as a blood-curdling scream echoed in her mind.
"Hey, kid, you alright?" Elijah asked as he touched her shoulder.
Emily's eyes jolted open as she stared wide-eyed at him. "I....oh, it's you," she muttered as she gazed down at the cobblestone road. She winced as her stomach grumbled.
Elijah sighed and shook his head. "You still haven't eaten? Stubborn ass kid," he groaned, then gazed around the crowd, "Let's get out of here."
"What?" Emily replied with a raised eyebrow.
"We're getting you something to eat and getting you out of those filthy clothes," Elijah barked as he gestured for her to follow him.
"Why are you trying to help me?"
"Shut up, kid, just move your legs," Elijah groaned as he carved a path through the crowd for Emily. "What's your name, kid?"
"Emily," she replied as she kept her eyes down, avoiding the gazes of pedestrians, whispering as she followed Elijah.
"Where do you live?" Elijah asked as they entered the mall. His eyes narrowed as he gazed around the people, obviously staring at the grey mask on the right side of his face.
"That's none of your business."
"Homeless then," he muttered as they walked up to the food court.
Emily's lips quivered as she looked down at the floor. Her facial expression sombered as she let out a sigh.
"Where you wanna eat?"
"I don't care."
Elijah grumbled and shook his head. "Just pick."
Emily gestured towards the breakfast restaurant she had attempted earlier. The chef, who had denied her earlier, had his eyes wide as they approached.
"I'll have whatever she's having with a coffee," Elijah ordered as he looked up at the food menu. "What do you want, kid?"
"Waffles," Emily muttered, avoiding the chef's gaze.
"Ummmm," the chef replied, his eyes blinking heavily.
"You okay?" Elijah asked.
"You both were chosen...she was chosen?"
"Yeah...what about it?"
"How did the ENGINE choose her?"
"Does it matter? Are you going to serve us or not?"
The chef rubbed his neck, then hung his head as he prepared their meals. "Here you go, chosen."
Emily looked at the waffles and then up at the chef, who avoided her gaze. Her eyebrows narrowed as she balled up her fist. She then grabbed her plate of waffles and dropped it to the ground. Elijah's eyes widened as he gazed down at the shattered plate on the floor.
"What the hell, kid?"
"This man turned me away earlier today, and now he serves me because the ENGINE chose me. He saw me starving, called me scum...called me street rat, now he serves me. You make me sick. I won't eat something made by someone like you."
Elijah blinked slowly, then looked at the chef, who stood there with his head down. "Is that true?"
The chef blinked, then shook his head. "She is exaggerating; she comes here always begging."
"I asked for a job and you turned me away."
"I can't hire someone like you!"
"And what is that?" Elijah interjected as he crossed his arms.
The chef looked up and took a deep breath, but did not reply.
Elijah chuckled and shook his head. "Seems Leonore is only beautiful on the surface," he mocked as he gestured Emily to follow him to a different restaurant.
Emily sat at a table, and customers stared wide-eyed as they glanced at her. She could feel their judgment, their envy, their hate emanating from their bodies as they whispered. A subtle smile formed on her face as Elijah ordered for them both, coming back a generous serving of authentic Leonore cuisine. Sharp, chicken, basil, spices, and orange peels hit her nose as she grabbed a fork.
She engulfed the food on her plate like she hadn't eaten in days. She burped loudly, wiping her mouth with her arm. Elijah stared with a raised eyebrow as he ate. He frowned as he looked at her tattered beige shirt and dirty black hair with faded teal highlights. He got up, headed back to the restaurant, and ordered more. Emily stayed quiet, eating every piece of food placed before her.
"How long have you been living like this, kid?" Elijah asked as he watched her eat.
"What do you mean?" Emily replied as she burped, looking up at him momentarily before grabbing her drink.
"I mean, how long have you been homeless...where are your parents?"
Emily's eyes lowered as she looked at the table. "They died when I was young."
Elijah sighed, then looked around. "Leonore doesn't have a church or adoption services?"
"I'd rather not talk about it....and why do you care?"
"Is it a crime to want to help an orphan?"
"I don't want your fucking pity, and it doesn't matter...I am going to die anyway," she replied as she stood up from her chair and stormed off.
Tears trickled down her cheeks as she pushed her way through the crowd. Her eyes narrowed as her mind lingered on painful memories. She wanted to scream from the top of her lungs as she kicked a trash can over. Emily slammed a door, barging her way, taking a shortcut through a clothing outlet, and climbing up a fire escape.
Emily scratched at the mask molded to her face, pulling at it with all her might, but it wouldn't come off. She growled as she shimmed off a narrow building edge, then parkoured over to the next. She stared down at the citizens below, watching their anger and celebrations before lifting the tarp of her makeshift home. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply before grabbing her journal. She skimmed through the pages with melancholic eyes.
I wonder why I am so ugly?
Hate this mask that makes me so ugly.
She scribbled in her notebook, closing it as she heard footsteps approaching. "Who's there?" She barked as she lifted the tarp with a makeshift shank.
"Easy, kid....it's just me," Elijah replied as he raised his hands. "Aint nobody coming up here, how the hell you do this?" He chuckled as he panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
"Why are you following me?" Emily grumbled as she put away her shank.
"I am trying to fucking help your stubborn ass."
Emily rolled her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, our masks marked us for death. Don't you have something better to do before you kick the bucket?"
"With that attitude, you will kick the bucket."
"Whatever...what do you want, sourpuss?"
Elijah chuckled. "Me...sourpuss? Projecting are you?"
Emily rolled her eyes and sighed. "What the hell do you want...if you're looking for gratitude, you won't get it. Just leave me the fuck alone."
Elijah shook his head and crossed his arms. His eyes fixated on the dirty bed she was sitting on, then over to the cello sitting next to it. "You play music?"
Emily shrugged while avoiding his gaze.
"Play something."
"No."
"Why not?"
A thousand-yard stare formed in Emily's eyes as she sighed.
"I got you something to eat, at least repay me with a tune."
"Fine...whatever," Emily mumbled as she took a deep breath and picked up her cello.
Elijah's eyes widened as Emily played an aggressive, melancholic, baroque tune. Goosebumps formed on the nape of his neck as the hairs on his arms stood up. His heart exploded in his chest as he held tears back. His eyes grew trance-like while he rubbed his face. All his attention was focused on what he was hearing as Emily conveyed her sadness to him through music. His eyes struggled to keep up with the speed of her plucking and strumming the strings. Goosebumps crawled up his back like a centipede as the strings on Emily's cello snapped as she continued to speed up.
"Fuck!" Emily yelled as she tilted her head into the air, as the strings snapped. "Great, now I can't even freaking play music anymore."
Emily looked up at Elijah and shrugged. "There, my debt is paid now. Can you fuck off?"
"What was that kid?"Elijah mumbled as he kneeled with tears in his eyes.
"What was what? I played you a tune, then my cello broke...now can you leave me be?"
"Kid....did you...who taught you how to play?"
Emily shrugged. "Nobody...taught myself?"
"You taught yourself...how to play like that?"
Emily blinked and shrugged again. "Like what?"
Elijah rubbed his face and stood up. "Fuck kid...you don't know how good you are?"
Emily raised an eyebrow. "If I were good, I wouldn't be a fucking homeless."
"Then Leonore doesn't know fucking talent. That...I don't know what that was...But I could feel that, and that's what matters."
Emily's eyes lowered, staring directly at Elijah's brown eyes. Her arms quivered as she fixated on the roar emanating from her chest.
"ⱠɆ₮ ₥Ɇ ØɄ₮."
Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
She did not let it out.