What’s More Beauty than Innocence

  ?“Look at her, the perfect doll.”

  ?“Truly the finest of alchemy and soul. With this, she will truly be the perfect child.”

  ?“With this, we will finally be able to gain the power we deserve. But to think it’s all thanks to a child born with a few authorities.”

  ?“Well, don’t strike the hand that feeds you.”

  ?The words came out laughing, yet meaningless to the child playing with her toys on the floor. She held a dark muscular figure in one hand, making it stomp on the opposing doll, which fell. She celebrated the victory of the doll, unaware of whatever her parents were talking about.

  ?She was too young to understand, the words far too complicated. She had been trained to do this. Trained to ignore all which weren’t commands, because a child shouldn’t care. A child should only obey whatever their parents say, whatever their parents tell them. Because adults don’t lie, adults always know best.

  ?This was how it was. She played, ate, and lived. Then did whatever her parents wanted her to do, because that was her purpose. Her reason for birth, if she didn’t, then what else was she supposed to do?

  ?Her parents called her, she obeyed. They told her to stop playing, she obeyed. They told her to kill a man trying to uncover some secret, and she obeyed. Because that was what she should do. obey. So what if she killed a few people? Her parents would praise her. What if she tortured them? Her parents would finally give her affection.

  ?She tracked through the snow, singing a tune she had heard. Off towards her target, she was going. She wasn’t sure of whatever she was singing, just something she felt she had heard. But she couldn’t trust herself. She wasn’t her parents, the only trustworthy people that existed.

  ?Behind her came flocking spectral birds, useful familiars that could easily destroy boulders by accident. The perfect weapons for the perfect little killing machine—that was her.

  ?She found the hideout quickly, having used her familiars to quickly find it. How much praise would she get for her good job?

  ?She knocked, of course, she did. She was the perfect child after all.

  ?It took a few seconds before the cabin door opened, and there stood the gentleman. She didn’t see the difference between this disheveled, ugly man and a pretty boy, because what was there to distinguish? They were all simply people.

  ?“Hello sir, would you mind if I come in for a bit? It’s really cold out here,” she said with a smile. A childish smile filled with innocence, one you could only expect from a child such as her.

  ?“Eh, child, this is not a place for you.”

  ?“Please sir, I promise I won’t cause you trouble.”

  ?“Child, I said no. I like my woman ripe.”

  ?“Well, use me. I’m at the size where you can have all the fun, am I not? You won’t reject me, will you?”

  ?The man didn’t try to hide anything anymore. A free child offering herself to him, what kind of man would he be to say no? Oh, the deliciousness it would give. She was truly the perfect size, he had to admit. Small enough to where his hand could grab and move her by her neck, to where his foot could crush through her stomach. A size perfect for a toy, and nothing more.

  ?Just from the thoughts, a tent formed in his pants, opening the door for the girl who strolled happily through. He quickly turned to after her, hearing her steps stop. But when his hands went to his pants, he realized the wrongness of it all.

  ?A scream tore from his throat, as birds were breaking his arm. Peaking, eating, and the larger ones even twisting it.

  ?“No, no. Make sure he suffers.”

  ?The man didn’t know what scared him more—the birds flocking his arm, doing everything to break and keep it broken, disfigured and everything wrong, or the girl watching it with a sick glint in her eyes.

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  ?“The only one who could ever touch me is my father and his friends. Now come, go ahead, scream. Go, go dismemberment!”

  ?She shouted happily, as if she was watching the most childish of kids shows, and to her, she was. As familiars in the form of chains crept up his other hand and wrapped around it, crushing it against the wall and burying it under the rubble.

  ?The man felt each crack of bone, the familiars mirroring their creator’s skillfulness enough to where each point of pain seared in his mind, until the arm was torn off as he was plastered on the wall. He didn’t know if it was the fall or crash into the wall, but one of them caused him to become paralyzed from the neck down. Yet if he was paralyzed, why could he still feel the pain?

  ?“You must be wondering why you still feel pain? Well, it’s me.”

  ?His brain screamed for relief as the familiars began bending the rest of his bones, one by one until they broke off. And if they didn’t, they would tear them off by gnawing their jaws and legs into the flesh, while the girl only continued explaining.

  ?“Your body will continue to feel and live even if I were to… cut you up into tiny pieces and store them. I’ll let my parents decide what to do with you.”

  ?The man’s screams hollowed out as familiars began tearing him into small pieces which the girl stored in small boxes. Yet the man’s torment didn’t end, as the boxes were built by the girl herself, who made it using her Authority of alchemy to make sure the box continued tormenting him even as pieces.

  ?Satisfied, she headed back, ignoring the man’s screams as she put the boxes in her storage. What type of affection would she get this time? Verbal? Physical? Maybe head pats, or maybe a good job? She spun while imagining the ways, yet what she would never have imagined was the fire that ate at her home. A sea of blood ran from the house, and from it stood a creature she couldn’t explain.

  ?A tentacle-like creature with multiple heads, tearing open from the tip to reveal jaws.

  ?What was she supposed to do? Fight? Run? She didn’t know, her body froze not of terror or fear, but from the lack of order and someone to tell her. By the time she even registered a thought, the creature had noticed her and rushed at her. Everything after was like a blur, a burning of something. Maybe memories. She didn’t know what happened, or maybe she didn’t remember. All she knew was that she was marked as a player in a game she didn’t want to play.

  ?By the time she woke up, she didn’t know anymore. Her purpose, her name, her identity in itself. It felt like it was all covered in flames, burning her if she ever had the idea of thinking about her past. Because of it, she had fallen back unconscious multiple times.

  ?Where she was, ended up as the question she asked, and from what she got, she was in a village far away from Central City. With no other ties, the village took her in as one of their own.

  ?She had nowhere to go, so she accepted. It was better than wondering, at least was the conclusion she came to. So doing this was better.

  ?It took half a month before she figured out she was part of a game about murder. The only reason she found out was because someone tried to come and kill her. Maybe that was when the cracks in her began bleeding through. It was like someone else had taken over, or maybe not taken over, but simply taken back control.

  ?By the time she felt awake again, all she saw was animal-like figures standing over a mutilated body. She inwardly screamed at the sight, not because she was too scared to speak, but because a part of her wasn’t scared. The scene felt familiar, yet she shook her head and ran.

  ?It was all strange. Holding over her eyes, pain shot through them, yet she pushed through as she ran. When she reached the village, she looked at a window to see the lines in her eyes glowing crimson. The light looked foreign, yet more familiar than her own face. Yet as the pain reached its crescendo, the glow subsided and so did the feeling of familiarity.

  ?She never saw the hulking figure again after that, even if it lingered in her mind.

  ?Eventually, a guy would come to the village. A night where she was helping the people of the slums, she and the boy would cross paths in a less than favorable situation. Then they would talk in their next meeting, and after a month, Aisha had her first true family. Maybe that was when her true self was the most quiet.

  ?Following Blade was some of the best time in her life, but also the most eventful. Yet she truly experienced happiness together with the singular family tie she now had. A family which would praise her whenever, who would give her headpats when she did her best, and hug her closely saying everything was okay. Was this a family? Was this what she always wanted?

  ?Yet suddenly, red fell across all those happy memories. Blood ran through her mind. Why was it all so dark now? Where was he? Where was her brother? Hadn’t he promised to come back safe and see her? Had he forgotten her? Abandoned her?

  ?She didn’t care about the people. And maybe it was that hatred which caused her to forget about the blood running across her face. The pain that shot through her head from the bottle cracking. She had only tried to help, only tried to be good. Yet her help had made them dependent. And dependent people become needy. When that happens, they stop asking nicely for what they expect. Maybe that was why they had hurt her when she had only told them about the shortage of food, and the rationing plan she had. It was for them, always for them. So why was she the one hurting?

  ?Getting up, she picked up a handful of dirt, caring little for the blood leaking from her forehead, not the world either.

  ?The crimson glow she had feared came back, yet this time it didn’t feel like her head was cracking open, she felt much clearer. As if she was removing an unwanted layer.

  ?Creating wires using her alchemy, she shut all doors and escape routes.

  ?“Welcome everyone. I do hope you all had satisfying lives. As their ending. Tonight.”