The ground underneath Emily's feet stopped quivering. Her heart thumped in her chest as she stared up at the slumbering ENGINE above as if it hadn't made every mortal bow a minute ago. Tears trickled down Emily's cheeks as she rubbed her face. She widened her eyes upon noticing that the flames hadn't singed her flesh. Her eyes darted from side to side as citizens rose to their feet, basking in the ENGINE's eldritch magnificence.
Emily's heart roared in her chest like a caged lion as she wiped locks of hair out of her face. A voice echoed deep within, a presence that demanded release. A subtle hum rang in her ear that buzzed like an annoying gnat. The sound felt familiar yet alien, a half-forgotten lullaby from childhood. Her left eye shimmered an eerie 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.
A citizen glared at Elijah's grey mask with envy in his eyes. "Why was I not chosen!?" The 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. "My parents told me the tale of my great-grandfather." He was chosen last cycle, and he was just a humble shoe shiner."
A flamboyant citizen rolled his eyes, then shrugged. "At least your grandfather worked and had a family. Look at her; she probably never worked a day in her life. She will just be fodder for the actual PRIME," The flamboyant citizen interjected as he looked at Emily, as the crowd erupted into arguments.
Emily rubbed her shoulder as a frown formed on her face. Her wet eyes drifted towards the ground as everyone dismissed her anointed position, which she didn't want. 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 silenced 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.
"Let's get you something to eat and get you out of those filthy clothes," Elijah insisted 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. "Don't let these people get under your skin."
"I am trying," 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 at the people, 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 soured as she let out a sigh.
"Where do 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.
"Something wrong?" Elijah asked.
"You both were chosen… She was chosen?"
"Yeah... what about it?"
"How did the ENGINE choose her?"
"Why 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 fists. She then grabbed her plate of waffles and dropped it on 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 a street rat, now he serves me. You make me sick. I won't eat something made by someone like you."
Elijah blinked, 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 begging."
"I asked for a job, and you turned me away."
"I can't hire someone like you! You would have caused my customers to go somewhere else."
"You just admit you like kicking people down less fortunate than you," Elijah interjected as he crossed his arms.
"It's not like that!? She is just."
"Just what?"
The chef looked up and took a deep breath, but did not reply.
Elijah's nostrils flared, and he shook his head. "Seems Leonore is only beautiful on the surface," he mocked as he gestured for 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 with a generous serving of authentic Leonore cuisine. Fresh 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, wiping her mouth with her arm. Elijah stared with a raised eyebrow as she 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 muted, 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. Scrambling off a narrow building edge, she growled before parkouring to the next. She stared down at the citizens below, watching their anger and celebrations before lifting the tarp off her makeshift home. Her eyes closed, warm summer air sweeping across her cheeks as she inhaled before grabbing her journal. She skimmed through the pages with melancholic eyes and scribbled lyrics into the notebook.
Where do orphans go to rest?
The needles pierce and leave their mark.
Binding me to who I are.
A future wrapped in future's cost.
She fiddled with her pen before closing the notebook 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. "Ain't nobody coming up here; how the hell do 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?"
Emily shrugged while avoiding his gaze.
"Play something."
"No."
"Why not?"
A thousand-yard stare formed in Emily's eyes as she sighed. Her muscles tensed as her mind drifted as the voice rumbled in her chest.
"I got you something to eat, at least repay me with a tune," Elijah insisted.
"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 as he rubbed his face. He fixated on the music as Emily conveyed her sadness to him. His eyes struggled to keep up with the speed of her plucking and strumming. 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 and clutched the cello bow. "Great, now I can't even freaking play music anymore."
Emily looked up at Elijah and shrugged. "There, my debt is paid. 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... I 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 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 raised an eyebrow, eyes drifting towards the clouds floating in the sky. 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. Her mind raced as she struggled to drown out the presence bashing at her ribcage like a relentless honey badger. She gazed up at Elijah, forcing a flawed smile while the voice rumbled just under her skin.
She did not let it out.