ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ: ʜʏɢɢᴇ

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【1.13】

13】

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(n.) a calm, comfortable time with people you love. A complete absence of frustrations, or anything emotionally overwhelming.

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In the spare time she rarely had, Isabella would question herself. She'd ask unanswerable questions that would continue to sit in the back of her mind and torment her. The biggest one being: how did this happen?

Technically, it's obvious. Isabella was raised alongside other humans to be killed and distributed as food to a demon society. It's the basic explanation, with many holes in the story. Holes that became more obvious as she grew.

There was the anomaly that was the human-demon relationship. Humans assisting demons to slaughter and eat their own. What sense could be made of that? Then there was the outside world that she's never seen. Walls that looked more and more impossible to cross as the days went by. It made her question if there was even an outside world worth seeing.

In all of her cluelessness, Isabella stuck firmly to the one thing she understood: you are not an asset, and will be replaced if necessary. Even grandmother, in all of her heartless glory, was replaceable.

So, Isabella fought to become the best. Aced all of the exams, shunned any other aspiring mothers; in her pursuit, she even exposed the plan of a few teenage girls to sneak out on the shipment trucks- an unforgivable offense. Isabella vividly remembered the pride in grandmother's eyes, and the utter loss in the girls'. She found herself asking which hurt more: another unanswerable question.

Strangely, the idea of an escape never crossed her mind. The only successful escape was years prior, and the tracker of the young girl was found to be in the belly of a man-eater only days later. It was a painful memory- all of them were when they were about (y/n). Still, she would think about how those hours of freedom must have felt for (y/n). The liberation was surely overwhelming.

Holding her stomach, Isabella signed. The most pitiful memories have been emerging lately. She blamed it on the hormones for putting her in such a deep slump. Maybe it was the fact that she would be contributing to the endless cycle of the farms. Maybe it was (y/n) and Leslie, continuing to haunt her. Whatever the reason, her past plagued her mind.

She began to hum a gentle tune and imagined herself under a great oak. She was fine. The baby was fine.

True to her word; Mujika was silent about our argument the entire week. Any attempt to even mention it was met with a hard glare. It's not difficult to imagine how tense our household was. Sonju and I were practically walking on ice around her.

Mujika had also taken to leaving the house for walks: something she does when her mind is occupied. Sonju follows her in the trees to ensure her safety, as she's not as skilled in combat. He reassures me that she's fine on her own when he comes home, but still follows her whenever she leaves. Despite their disagreements, he continues to worry for her.

ꜱʟɪᴘᴘɪɴɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀꜱ┃ɪꜱᴀʙᴇʟʟᴀWhere stories live. Discover now