Scar A Lonely Escort Part Nine

 A Broken Soul


They were walking. Morana looked at the wet patch on her shoulder with nothing but disgust. It had cried on her. It had actually tried to kill her. This thing that came out of her body, this thing that those witches forced her to carry for nine months, this thing who put her very own daughters in harm’s way, cried on her shoulder, where they should have been. 

She felt nothing but rage as she looked at her. She looked absolutely miserable. Yet she remembered how she saved her life. She remembered her words.

“Because I get the monster but they get the mother.”

How dare it call me a monster. Does it not know that it is the monster?

Then she looked at her again. She remembered her words that she cried when that evil Santa man tried to make her kill her.

See this is why Alex would have put it down! This is why this thing can’t live!

She would have put a bullet in her brain right there and then. She looked up at the sky as she kept an important fact in her mind.

It's a day until my deadline.

She could see that it was getting dark. She looked at the Mythos Puros, which looked completely pathetic. She just shut down. She had followed her about like a lost puppy. Yet as silently as a child of the Victorian era. She found a good place to set up camp. She collected her firewood and created her pile and lit it. She then started cooking with the girl just staring into the fire. Her eyes weet nothing but a void.

That was when an idea popped into her head. One that would be utterly guaranteed to expose her.

“Do you want something to eat?”

This was met with silence.

“Don’t let me do that again.” She muttered.

She frowned like she did not understand.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t let me become a killer.”

She nodded.

“Alright.”

“When you hand me over, kill me.”

At this her eyes widened. She fought against her smile.

“Why?”

“They will use me for bad things and I don’t want that.”

“Then no. I won’t.”

She looked aside as she started curling up. Yet she looked to the side as she could do nothing but bite her lip. She finished her cooking, and she got her food. Her eyes glanced at Scar again who barely looked at it. In fact, she was looking at the fire. Her eyes never seemed to leave it. Her eyes were opened but it was like no one was at home or more like her eyes were awake but the girl was not. 

She looked back at the food and started eating. She soon wolfed her food down. She looked at her again as she put the bowel away. She did not even express any emotion. She walked over to her. She pulled out her torch and shoved it in her eyes. Yet she did not even look at it. The only thing that was any indication of her being alive was her shallow breath. 

“Mythos Puros, what is it? What’s wrong?” She cooed.

No response.

“Scar?”

No response.

She clicked her fingers in front of her. Then she slapped her. She noticed that she was not even fazed.

So she went to sleep. The following morning, there was no change in her. None at all. So they walked on and on until the girl fell over. Her eyes were closed, her body was coated in sweat.

Maybe I should do something to make her respond?

So she walked up to her.

“If you help get Beatrice and Britannia out of there I will love you and I will send someone to rescue you this time.”

This caused a mild response as her eyes lit up slightly. 


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