Page 131 of The Tenth Muse

Chewie makes a warning sound that reminds me of a rattlesnake’s tail, the minute Williams’ lifts to touch a leaf the trap opens with a hiss. Still, he moves closer, nothing but wonder in his eyes as he reaches for the carnivorous plant. “Where did you come from?” He asks incredulously.

The trap begins to tilt, it shifts from pointing toward the sky until the opening is but inches from Williams’ face. He stands there stupefied, frozen from shock and possibly fear as Chewbacca’s rumbling grows from a low hum to a full on growl.

We watch in silence, the anticipation is nerve wracking but it can only be comparable to watching a child fall into the gorilla enclosure. A moronic, ugly child you don’t care about, and a gorilla with teeth bigger than hands who has a hunger for live meat. Runa’s grip on me softens, her hand moving down from my wrist, fingers interlacing with mine.

A crow caws in the distance, both our heads whipping in the direction for a single split second. It’s then that Williams’scream fills the forest, a blood curdling sound that loses itself in the trees, but pulls our attention back to him. His hand is gone, Chewie’s crunching loud and obnoxious as she works to digest the snack unbothered.

He shrieks, collapsing to the ground and flopping like a fish out of water trying to survive. Blood sprays and spatters, almost obnoxiously, something like a high-budget Quentin Tarantino film and all I can wonder is if he’ll stop screaming before it fully drains out of him.

“She doesn’t like men.” Runa shakes her head slowly stepping toward Williams like the warning was held on the tip of her tongue the entire time.

“You fucking bitch!” He wails, swinging his nubby bloody stump as he kicks out with his legs.

But every movement of his becomes weaker the more blood he loses, his strength dwindling down as he reserves it for his one remaining hand to try to contain the bleeding.

It’s then that I realize he is dying.

Because of me.

I take a deep inhale, wondering if with the exhale will come the feeling of guilt.

But it never happens.

And that’s quite alright.

nine

. . .

Runa

I steptoward the pathetic whimpering man, hoping to at least get some answers before he bleeds out. “Does anyone else know where you are?”

He’s incoherent now, a shade of pale I’ve never seen on a breathing person, his teeth chattering as he trembles on the grass. How he hasn’t gone into shock yet is far beyond my own understanding. When he makes no effort to answer I press his head all the way down to the ground with the bottom of my foot, his strength only enough to shift his gaze up at me.

“P-p-ple-” He sputters an attempt as if I’m able to help him in some way.

I’m not, but even if I was, I wouldn’t.

“Her father,” I ask the more important question, “Does he know she’s missing? Is he looking for her?”

“N-n-n.” The man’s head barely moves from the weight of my foot, but I take it for the answer I need it to be. “Good. Finish him off Chewie.”

His eyes grow twice their size from my command, but instead of devouring Chewbacca spits the half eaten hand back onto the dying man.

“See!” I whip around to face Meri, “This is what I’m talking about.”

Her expression morphs from one of absolute horror, to amusement, a lightness spreading over her features as a smile breaks through her face. She walks toward Chewie, stepping over Williams as if he was never here at all. “That’s because she’s not eating out of hunger.”

“What do you mean?” I’m too ignorant when it comes to plants to understand and I don’t know enough about raising a pet to follow her line of thought.

“She’s been protecting you.” Meri raises her hand, softly stroking the exterior of the trap.

Chewie purrs contented at being finally understood.

“Well, shit.” I laugh, “I knew you were my good girl.”

“I’m gonna need you to stop saying that now.” America’s voice drops to a low hush.