Page 36 of Viripotent

The moments they disassociate are worse, I’d never seen a living ghost up until that point when a little girl sat staring at the wall for three hours and fifty-four minutes.

I timed it, I watched the seconds tick over and waited for her to blink, for her to say something. Somehow that was worse than the screams. The screams told me she was still alive.

Amber takes as many details as she can as she attempts to coax information from them with the limited range of language. Thomas and Jamie will be arriving soon to assess them, and they should have the translators too.

It’s all fucked up.

We shouldn’t have a plan in place for situations like this, no one should. Innocent souls aren’t meant to be tainted. They’re meant to be given the tools to make the decision for themselves. If I grew up with warring thoughts regarding my family’s affiliation to crime, they would have disappeared with the five pairs of eyes in front of me. Grandfather may be a ruthless bastard, a murderer, or any number of crimes, but he has a strict rule regarding the chuskis — the untouchables.

Amber continues her attempts to get their names as the curious green-eyed girl whispers, “Geedar.”

I don’t know the language, but she obviously does, and she speaks more confidently.

“Geedar khun hai?”

The little girl’s hope sparkles at being understood and she shrugs. Their conversation continues with the eldest boy’s eyes coming back to me. But he doesn’t say anything, assessing if it’s safe after taking up the task of being the leader.I want to scream and sob, but I swallow it down. They’re not screaming, they’re not crying, it’s their life and I have no right to add my emotions on their shoulders.

Trying to appear gentle, I smile hoping it comes across as soft and not the cold bitch I’m used to. I lower my voice and it doesn’t dim my conviction.

“You’ll be safe, I promise. My name is Inessa, what’s yours?”

He doesn’t answer and I hold my hand out dumbly.

Staring from my hand to my eyes, he makes the decision that I’m safe and turns, giving me his full attention. Shaking my outstretched hand, he only provides his name and stops anything else coming out.

“Aro.”

I want to ask a million questions, give every promise, and even a blood oath that they’re protected now, but I stop myself. There’s no pattern in when the children are rescued, or inhow they’re picked. Each time is different, it could be a child taken from within the states or ones from different countries like today. We fall silent as Amber exhausts the little girl with questions.

The door opens behind us, and I keep my body in front of the little ones protectively. I relax seeing Thomas Haigh and Jamie walk into the room. Mara managed to find them, and I’ve never been happier to see two people before. It grows further when Dr Lane makes up their trio and they start their work, putting the children at ease with their mix of languages.

I stand and move out of their way, keeping to the side, watching everything they do. Amber follows me and keeps her voice low so as not to disturb anyone.

“Afiyah, the little girl, she said a wolf saved them.”

She’s the only one without blank eyes and whoever it is, they’ve managed to save her at least one form of torture. Nodding my head so she knows I’ve heard, she gives me all the information she managed to collect.

“There were two of them who came into the house and the wolf told her to be quiet, he didn’t show her his eyes and the other one didn’t speak. Someone else was driving, a woman. She smelt like sugar when she picked her up.” She smiles to herself, it’s small and doesn’t fully reach her eyes making me look at her fully as she adds, “Afiyah said she gives nice hugs.”

I can’t go backto Steorra and pretend this shit isn’t happening anymore. It’s disgusting and bile burns my throat as Jamie’s words replay in my head. Aro had been with those sick fuckers for four years, half of his short life he spent being subjected to depravity. If anyone needed to see strength, it existsin a tiny body who has become a protector when he didn’t have any reference of his own.He didn’t even ask any questions about his own safety. He offered to do what he needed, to make sure the other children were safe.

Misha doesn’t force any conversation, it’s our routine when this happens. I shut down outwardly and delay my emotions until I’m away from anyone. I don’t wait for him to fully stop as he pulls through the Vartanov gates, and I get out of the car. My steps aren’t rushed despite every cell in my body wanting to escape this godforsaken planet filled with humans that are incapable of humanity.What the fuck is wrong people?!

I can understand murder, I feel like committing multiple right now. But I can’t understand how anyone can look at a child and feel anything close to lust. It doesn’t make sense. It is the one crime that has no rationality. Violence does — you’re angry and need an outlet. Stealing — you want something, and you take it. Maybe that’s what all crime is, theft.

Stole a bike.

Stole a life.

Stolen innocence.

Going straight to the top floor, I make it to the bathroom just in time to throw up. My knees crack against the tile, but I can’t stop my organs wanting to escape. It all purges out of me, every horrible thought and idea of what those children have been through. The door is open and small footsteps come to my side before a little hand strokes down my back. Viktor continues stroking my back, making circles, and my tears fall. I want to hug him and wrap him in my arms, so I know there’s at least one child that’s safe, but he’s comforting me when he’s a boy. A child surrounded by the brutal bastards he calls his family is the only thing he needs to be safe.

He tilts his head to the side and makes a fish face. A watery laugh escapes as there’s nothing left to throw up. His palm is stillmaking circles between my shoulder blades as he becomes the adult and softly asks, “You want ice cream? Dima always gives me some when I’m sick.”

Shaking my head, I stand and rinse my mouth. The blank stares come back as I throw cold water on my face, and I sound pathetic seeking comfort from a child.

“Can I have a hug, Vityenka?”

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