||Beefsteak || DSMP ||

6. A Butcher's Knife to the Throat

Anita's POV
"And then I had a standoff with Dream for our freedom! I had everything on the line!"
"And did you win???" I questioned as we continued to walk.
Tommy was poking at the grass with a stick he found, and I listened intently as he told me about his life.
"I- well no.. I was hit in my shoulder but I made a very hard sacrifice for everyone so we still gained independence."
"Really?? What was the sacrifice?"
He receded back in on himself, stabbing one spot in the soft grass with an accompanying thud. "It's personal."
"Alright then.."
Silence followed, and as I tried to comprehend all these new and exciting things, my brain scrambled and my shoulders slumped.
And then it hit me.
This place felt like a fantastical adventure story.
Like a tale ripped from a book and thrown into the real world. The same stuff that I'd bury my head in and not crawl out of until supper. Then I'd tell my mother all about the book, then share the same thing to my eldest sister as she tried to eat in her study in peace.
It's like a wave of realization had crashed into me.
One that I knew was soon to be coming.
There's no one to tell this tale to.
It'd become a lump forever in my throat. Never to come out again in any way that mattered, because nobody can affirm with the same interest as my mother. Nobody could act out action scenes like my baby brother. My sister's subtle interest hidden behind sarcasm.
No more stories could ever be consumed without them being stuck in my throat forever.
"Anita???" My heart raced as if I was falling, a jolt of pain stabbing into my side.
"OW-" I looked back up, Tommy and the stick he'd been holding, in a position that'd suggest that he had poked me with the stick to get my attention.
"You zoned out there for a bit." He informed.
I rubbed my side and furrowed my eyebrows, massaging both the physical and mental wounds I now had to deal with.
"Anita! You got out??? I heard Lady Belle yell out all in pain once I left." Tubbo caught up to us, concerned.
Tommy's eyes widened. "Did you actually stab her?!"
"She's okay." I ignored the scared boy and replied to Tubbo.
"Are you okay..?" He noticed how my gaze reached far over the hills, holding my shoulder and pulling me back to the present.
I opened my mouth, ready to assure him, but only a sharp exhale escaped.
As if something were stuck in my throat.
His smile eased the dread bubbling in my stomach.
"How about we show you around now?"

Belle's POV
"Do you need help...?" Wilbur asked as he put the bottles down at the table.
It was the hospital where I woke up, one of the few and humble doctor's offices. Did they have a doctor here?
I grabbed it, uncorking it with my teeth, the loud pop followed by the clink of the glass being set down.
I shook my head, bottle cork still in my mouth as I unwrapped the bloody cloth.
I wiped at it, hissing in pain and spitting the cork out.
"That's a dirty piece of fabric.." he said as he opened a drawer and handed me a cleansing cloth.
I used that to wipe away the blood, the pulling sensation sending ripples of electricity up my spine.
"Are you sure you don't-"
"Yes!" I wiped more, every sensor in my brain hating me.
I squeezed my hand closed a bit. Blood pooled, and I could tell that it hadn't went down to the bone.
"Luckily it looks like it didn't go down to the bone.." Wilbur commented as he hovered in my space.
I stopped myself from rolling my eyes and moved over, grabbing the bottle and trying to pick up the cloth with my full hand.
I failed to, the fabric slipping past my pinky every time.
I groaned, looking up to my company's spaced out face.
He refocused and realized what my expression told, holding the cloth out to me.
I grabbed it, stuffing it into the brim of the bottle and turning the liquid. The cloth absorbed it up and I waited for the excess to drain back into the bottle. I then pulled it out, gently wrapping it around my injury before tightening it.
"Do you have bandage?" I asked with a tired tone.
He'd managed to move closer and hover over my process every move.
He nodded and reached for a shelf above him, handing me a wrap.
I did it up tightly, reaching for the scissors to cut it.
I realized I couldn't cut and hold the bandage tightly at the same time, again looking to the useless man, still watching intently.
"Can you..?"
"Oh! Yeah-" he grabbed the scissors and snipped the extra off, ending the painfully long process.
This guy's insane or something.....
"So you're the princess's what? mother?"
I blinked at the random question, my brain catching up to his words far too late.
"What?! No- how- do I look like a queen..?" I deadpanned.
"You act like her mother." He didn't answer, instead moving on and cleaning up, turning his back to me.
"I'm a lady in waiting."
"Is that like a sister or..?"
I flinched, my heartbeat now pumping loud enough to make my ears pop. I watched him grab the bottle and cork it, focusing down on it.
His tone gave away his intent. He was playing dumb.
He wanted information, a kind that he didn't think he could directly ask for.
That put me on alert.
"I do whatever she wants.. I was trained to my whole life."
"So you're one of those.. royal guards?"
The man who had approached me earlier had laid seeds of doubt about Wilbur in my mind, and now those seeds were being watered.
His hovering, cluelessness was replaced in an instant with even more of a stranger.
"For the princess, yes."
"What about free will? I mean, you can't just be dedicated to the rule of some, what, teenager?"
My eyes narrowed. "The princess is my priority. I serve the crown, nobody else."
His head perked, a friendly smile not daring to touch his eyes as he turned back to me.
"Didn't mean to offend. I was merely curious."
My muscles lightened, the stillness in the room allowing all outside noises to be heard.
"It's alright." I said quickly, grabbing my bag and turning to leave.
His eyes on the back of my head sent a chill down my spine. "Thank you." I said, and the coldness lessened as I swung the door open.
"Not a problem!" He called after me in a cheery tone, and I shut the door behind me.
I kept my cool as I walked down the road, eyeing every single corner, dread drowning my mind as my speed quickened.
The cold hadn't gone away yet, causing my heart to jump from my chest every second.
I went up the stairs of the creaky home, opening the door and slithering in, the wood slamming with force.
I pushed my back to the door and didn't let myself close my eyes until the cold had melted.
My whole body fell and I didn't even try to move.
Being part cow grants you a few traits. Horns, floppy ears, the benefit of great strength, and good instincts.
And there was one feeling that was unmistakable to me. Even if I'd never felt it before.
An instinct that you will be used for someone else's gain. That you're seen as a means to an end.
That instinct that you are a resource. A temporary boost.
Livestock.
That's what that cold stare told me.