Silva

Epilogue

• Madame •

Five Months Later

—

"Once upon a time, a mother turned her son into a monster..."

The hollowed creaks lower into a groan as the door opens, and damp mustiness surrounds the silence like a veil of desolation.

A child's desiccating hand rests on the floor, leading to the rotting body inside the room as I walk through the hall. It's a rather bizarrely pleasant sight; the absolute peace forms a barrier in my heart as the thumping increases with each find of decaying bodies.

I pause when a pungent scent of acetone mingles between the heavy waves of rotting flesh. Turning to survey the lunchroom, dead bodies are discarded on the ground and slumped over the tables with unfinished breakfast.

My heels snap on the grimy floor as I stroll down the dull hallway, intending to find someone alive here. I don't have high hopes; anyone with an ounce of sanity would've left days ago.

That's about how long these bodies have been decomposing.

I'm here for one purpose, and it's to find that young child who my dear husband had given up for the sake of saving himself.

My head jerks to the rocking chair, screeching into the silence as a rat darts across the room. It's a nursery room, but it's hardly sustainable for long term care.

Sunflower Home is only a front. A temporary place for children to stay before being sold. Infants are much more expensive with higher risks; the nursery is evidently more equipped than the rest of the building.

I catch a glimpse of a small bodysuit inside the crib, stained with black blotches and a stench of foulness.

I recall my husband's affair had been going on for years. Strangely, I didn't pick up the differences in his behavior, but I also did not believe that man has the foolish bravery to betray me.

The only reason he survived this long being my husband is his subservience and for the sake of Silva.

He neglected our son, and now he has the audacity to care for another child when he already has one.

No matter, I think with a smile.

That child is a useless existence. What better way to make Silva happy than to remove such absurdity?

As I walk towards the end of the hall, I scrutinize the endless bodies of abandoned children. For a businessman, Mammon did practice an unconventional means of conduct. It would be a smart move to have enough manpower to subdue the children, but the number of children dominated the adults.

I count five women when I looked through each room with more than twenty children scattered around the building.

Mammon is nowhere to be seen, but he is the least of my problem.

I do understand why he has more children than they can handle when an emergency arises. This place is in the countryside with sparse roads; it's a thirty-minute drive to civilization. The children can't go far even if they escaped.

The woods behind is not a survival possibility, nor is the coal mine nearby.

The air grows stale as I step through the double door, welcoming the musty warmth of crumbling flesh and pungent copper scent on my skin.

I'm well-overdressed with a gorgeous scarlet dress in a holy sanctuary of rotting sins.

I was made aware of what my dear husband had done to his bastard child and promptly left a beautiful invitation-only gathering to be here. I needed to find that young boy and erase his existence.