A Forest On Fire

Those That Run On Heat

A gentle, timid rapping on her bedroom door awoke Elliot with an abrupt start. She sluggishly groped around in the dark and, with the help of the light streaming in from the bottom of the door, turned on the lamp beside her bed.

 "Who is it?" She asked. "It's not time to leave for the train, is it?" Elliot clumsily stumbled out of her bed but wasn't able to open the door, as whoever had knocked did so first.

"Not yet, Governor," the man, Merlin Dounor, responded. "However, Ruth wished me to wake you, as I believe she has something to say before you do leave."

"Why is Ruth here?" Elliot began to pull her clothes from the closet in preparation to wear. "When did she arrive?"

Merlin turned his head, presumably to glance at a clock. "Two hours ago; it is currently 6:18, Governor." After a pause, Mr Dounor continued, "I'm sorry to say, Governor, but I'm afraid there is something else I must tell you."

"What is it?"

Merlin pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to give to Elliot; it was a picture. "Abraham sent it via Ballast. One of his employees turned up dead in one of the mines last night."

She took it from his hands and flinched when she saw the body. "M-My God, who is it?"

"None of them know for sure, but it is assumed that the body is Victor Woodry, as one of the miners found the corpse only a few hours after Woodry split away from his group."

Elliot passed the photo back to Merlin. "Tell Ruth I'll only be a second more."

Mr Dounor nodded and left Elliot alone to get dressed. The photo's contents remained vivid in her mind, despite only being able to bear looking at it for a few moments. As she dressed, Elliot wondered if whatever had done this would stand to be negotiated with. She knew Lydia was not unlike a creature who could do something such as that, perhaps she could intimidate the monster enough to chase it out.

Or perhaps it wasn't a monster at all; perhaps one of the employees were insane, or, perhaps, Abraham was at fault. One underling causes too much trouble, and the boss offs them; it wasn't unfathomable. Nevertheless, she only knew one thing: whoever did this sinful deed did absolutely nothing to the body other than messily and sloppily remove the victim's skin.

"Thinking, are we?" Lydia's sly, proud voice broke through her barrier of thoughts.

Elliot visibly jumped, closing her eyes and exhaling loudly in annoyance. "What is it, Blackwater?"

"How come you call everyone by their first name, but never me?"

"That's not what you came here for, I pray." Elliot repeated, "What is it?"

Lydia sighed, but the governor refrained from turning in fear of seeing that terrible smile and slid on her coat. "Merlin sent me to tell you that Ruth is getting a tad impatient, liere. He couldn't come himself because he's gotten wrapped up in dealing with your little nephew and niece. I'd hurry; you know how much he hates children."

Elliot braced herself and swiftly turned, but the room was empty. Her shoulders slumped in both relief and confusion. She ran her fingers through her short, dark hair and angrily swore that Lydia would always remain a mystery to her. Elliot exited her room and looked upwards. It was 6:35.

"There you are!" A boy's voice echoed through the hallway. Elliot wasn't aware of where he was until something hooked itself onto her legs, squeezing them tightly.

"Mama, we found her!" A little girl's sing-song voice came from down the hallway.

Elliot looked down to find her nephew, Matthew, hugging her legs. The governor's niece, Tara, stood a little further down the hall, tugging on Ruth's hand. "Control your children, please, sister," Elliot said, gently prying the boy's small arms from around her knee.