The Anima [completed]

26.

26.

Through the silence, a deafening screeching of old metal cut through, and a tiny fluffy creature, no taller than two feet, emerged from one of the houses. At first, I clutched my knife tighter and sunk into my stance, believing her to be a threat. But as soon as her bright, clearly human face poked out from within the fluff of her coat, all I wanted was to run to her, scoop her up, and carry her home to the human world, away from all this darkness. Her tiny white shoes lit up as she slowly began to creep towards us, everything below the tip of her nose swallowed by the gigantic jumper.

Slowly, I slid the knife back into the holder on my side and sunk low in my crouch. I let a tiny smile creep onto my lips and extended one hand gently towards the little girl, showing I was neither a threat nor an enemy. Beast tensed and Lucius sucked in a quick breath as her eyes locked onto mine and she began to take quick tiny steps over towards me. Alvar said nothing, like he was only waiting for a horrific event to unfold, but I knew I had nothing to fear from the girl. Something in my stomach knew she was no threat and was perhaps the only creature for miles. I couldn't imagine what it would have felt like to be left completely alone in a house so decayed with no one to share your thoughts with.

She continued to waddle forwards until she stood no less than two feet away from me and then froze, eyes scanning my form wearily. I extended my other arm, now openly inviting a stranger into an embrace, a gesture I'm not sure she understood because she began to growl, a low rumble coming from the depths of her throat. As soon as the sound left her body, Lucius leapt forwards, brandishing his long blade.

The little girl screeched and sprinted back into her house, slamming the door behind her so hard that the wood broke and the door came tumbling down. I swivelled around and shoved Lucius hard, throwing him down onto the ground.

"You idiot." I seethed, "She wasn't going to hurt me."

"She? That thing isn't a little girl, Lyra! She could be dangerous!" He stared me down as he struggled to his feet, wiping the dirt off the back of his trousers.

"If she isn't human, then what do you think she's going to tell any other creature around, huh?" I poked his chest, my finger stern, "and any chance at walking through here without every moving thing thinking we are out to kill just vanished! We are not here to go to war with them!"

"We are at war with them." Lucius yelled, flabbergasted.

"She's just a little girl." I huffed stubbornly and began to stalk towards the house, wanting to regain the little trust the creature could have had for me.

The men said nothing and didn't try to stop me, but the Gryphon shot a warning image through my head; the little girl pouncing on me upon my entrance and gnawing on my ear.

There was no porch or stairs to the remains of the door on the little girls house, so I only had to walk through the overgrown lawn and dodge a few large bricks and fallen panels as I approached. I extended my hand to knock on the doorframe, but my fist faltered as my eyes adjusted to the darkness of the inside. I didn't know why I didn't expect the same devastation in the interior of the house, but the crumbled remains of an old staircase, the broken table, and the scraps of food that lay strewn around the floor pricked tears from my eyes. I drifted inside, my shoes crunching glass shards and bits of porcelain as I walked. The walls were painted with smoke and dark red stains and there were pieces of what looked like kitchen plates stuck into the walls. My foot crunched over something solid, and I leaned down to pluck a wooden picture frame from a pile of glass. 

It wasn't a picture of the family, of the little girl, but of the house; what it used to be. Tucked in a small picket fence was a two story white house with big windows and a large backyard. Although they weren't there, I could see the family that would have lived here, perhaps with a dog or two, weeding the garden and plucking flowers from the bushes. When water began to splash on the frame, I realised I was crying. These houses weren't just abandoned, they were war-torn, ripped from the desperate fingers of those who could not fight back or offer anything in return.