Candy Pop Corpse

19. Orange Marmalade Offer

Charles lunged for me, but it was too late. Burning, acidic waste bubbled up my throat once I jabbed the uvula. It set my mouth on fire, stealing any food my stomach held onto and forced it out for the world to see.

I instinctively turned away before the putrid vomit splashed against the ground. Pastel hues from my pastry treats mixed with an eerie red juice smelling of iron. I heaved until nothing except coughs left my quivering body. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I squatted down and scrutinized the mess.

Mush reminiscent of cupcakes, cream puffs, macarons and cookies were all my eyes could see. No civilian stuff here. That red liquid was just Dib's blood.

After more seconds of glossing over the gooey puddle, I gave a hoarse laugh. "See? I told you he wasn't in there!"

Footsteps approached from behind. They stopped right by me. "Keep looking," Styke ordered. He bent down to my level, then planted his hand on my head.

"Why? I already told you―"

He tightened his grip slightly while sending a glare my way. Despite the grin on his face, the man seemed one sentence away from blowing a fuse. "Don't make me repeat myself."

"Fine," I grumbled with a huff. What was the point? I proved them wrong. But instead of protesting further, I brought my face inches apart from the almost-digested buffet. My nose crinkled at the vomit's foul odor. The garbage dumps' stench wasn't making this any easier. With a sigh, I squinted at everything in sight. Acid. Frosting. Doughnut crumbs. Sugar cookies. Chocolate. I furrowed my brows, confused on what the hell he wanted me to find.

"Keep looking," Styke urged in a cold tone.

So, I did. I moved over the food and stared harder. Blueberries. Moldy bread. Softened cake. Teeth. Some gum I accidentally swallowed. Meat gnawed off on the edges. For a moment, I watched the truth rise to the surface of my throw up. The mixture slipped between the cobblestone's gaps. My gut twinged with confusion as I picked up a piece of food to squish it with my fingers. Its juices rolled down my skin.

Another round of acid burned my throat. I covered my mouth and gulped. Breath erratic, I whispered, "This doesn't mean he was a civilian. He had the markings."

Styke forced our eyes to meet. He pointed to me, then to the puddle. "Are you really that hard-headed?" He snatched up a glob and shoved it in my face. "Get it through that thick skull―this was just an innocent man whose life you stole before we could stop you."

I leered at his dirty hand. This was inconceivable. He must've been mad. Mary, too. Everyone was trying to make me suffer just because I wasn't like them. "Oh, gross. Don't show me that!" I uncovered my mouth to slap his hand away.

Jaw clenched, Styke let out a groan before wiping the liquid on the ground. "Why not? Planning to stuff yourself with what we're eating now that your gut's empty?"

His loud scolding made me flinch back. Tears blurred my vision as snot choked my words. "H-He had the savage markings all over his face. How was I supposed to know the difference?" Yet even as I said this, an inkling of doubt festered in my mind. I was so overwhelmed with hunger. Did I even get a good look at the guy?

"Are you sure you're fresh meat?" he scoffed. His spit wet my cheeks more than the tears did. "You seem way too used to eating―"

"Styke," Wastia called. She somehow managed to approach his side without being noticed by either of us. Her stoic, brash voice cut through his sentence cleaner than my machete. Before he could turn around, the woman slammed her sandal into his cheek. "You're being too rough."

He almost fell back, but jumped to his feet once he regained his footing. "What the hell? You were the one who wanted to tell her in the first place," he scoffed while rubbing his stubble.