Only a Game (Olympus Drive Chronicles)

Chapter 16: Someday

Thief

Someday. Someday I'll have a home where people want me. Where they aren't cross with me all the time. And I'll have a warm bed. And we'll eat chocolates. And there'll be as much as I like to eat anytime I like. And I'll keep all the lovely thing that don't originally belong to me. And most of all no one will lock me up or tie me up places. I don't like that. I have to move. I have to run.

So when I'm tied up horribly by horrible people, I come here. it's dark. And it's cold. And most things are dead. But it's better than being around people who chain me up.

"Hello---what are you doing, impossible thing?"

I hiss at the speaker, curling closer around my new cow as I cuddle with it under the table in what passes for a kitchen. I found food. Just butter, but it'll do. The cow doesn't like it.

"Oi---look at what I found! It's got a cow with it this time," the man who is mean to me says, pointing at me under the table.

"Oh dear—you know you can't do that little one," the nice lady in the nice dress says. Now she's holding a chubby infant which hinders her in kneeling down to check on me. I like her. She likes feeding me.

I offer her a red shiny rock from my pocket.

"That's really nice of you---are you hurt? Or just sad?" she asks, accepting the rock.

"S-s—s—sad," I mumble.

"Aw, I'll get you something to eat."

"My darling where is----disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. Ridiculous. What are you doing in my house?" that's the old man. He's scary. He's always in black and he's got dark glasses. I think he doesn't like me.

"Oi, that's no way to talk to the little kid."

"I was talking you, Charon."

"I'm here collecting my wages aren't I? Mr. You're-on-a-fixed-Salary -communism-bull—"

"You are paid every other Friday which would be next Friday. Did you think I would forget??"

"Yeah, actually. Damn. That almost worked."

"No, it absolutely didn't! Get out of my house," he snaps his fingers and the other man vanishes.

"You could be nicer to him," the woman says, amused, bringing me a sandwich. I put it in my mouth and hold out my hands hopefully.

"He's fine----now why did you take someone's cow? Why is that a thing you would want to do?" the man in black asks, kneeling down to study me under the table.

"H—h---hi—his name's---his name's---name's ---Cookie," I say, hugging my sweet fat baby cow who is my friend.

"Yeah, but we both know he wasn't originally yours. Have you not asked your mother or whoever's responsible for you for a dog?" the man asks, tiredly.

"I---I'm---I'm bad," I say, lowering my head.

"Well, yeah, clearly, but they said no to the dog?"

"Hector, be nice---I'm sorry. You can keep your nice dead pet here but he can't stay in the kitchen, he'll like it much better out in the yard with the dogs," the lady says, sitting down on a chair to play with her fat baby. It has fat little baby arms and fat baby hands. And even if it doesn't have eyes it likes my shiny objects like coins.

"R---really?" I ask, frowning.

"Yeah we don't mind, you can have your pet here and visit it," she says.

I frown, crawling out from under the table, cocking my head at them. I look at the man.

"Yes, you can keep your pet here. We don't mind if you stay here, you know," the man says, getting out more food. I run to snatch it hopefully. He hands it to me, shrugging a little.

"Yes. Where do you live? You're looking so thin."

I shrug.

"I know it's not easy to talk, would you like to write it down?" the woman ask, sitting down and putting her chubby child to her chest. She didn't always have the child. Before her belly was fat and she moved much slower. Now she has this baby that they both love. One or the other of them is always carrying it. And it's always in nice silky purple or black baby-dresses and things. They kiss its fat face and feed it all the time that's why it's so fat.

I shrug at her.

"What's your name?" the man asks, handing me a box of crackers to go with the block of cheese I'm eating.

I don't answer. I don't want them to find my house. My mom would be so mad. She was mad enough about the cow. She'd be really mad if she knew I was talking to people and running in their house. I'm not supposed to let anyone know I'm different. Not this different.

"We only want to help you," the woman says.

"Can----can I---can I-----can I---can---really keep it----here?" I ask, twisting my hands, frustrated.

"Yes, you can, really."

"Article 4 Subsection B no mortal NOR DEMI-GOD SPAWN HALFLING MONSTER CHILD will keep living creatures in the underworld----" the man who doesn't like me walks back in, reading from a book.

"Go away, Charon," the man in black growls.

"I think you'll find I'm quite alive as is my child, and we're both here. the rules don't apply for the palace grounds, as my son may wish to take a wife someday," the woman says, kissing the baby's head.

I hiss at the man. He sticks his tongue out back.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House."

"Right, going.... evil little monster---"

"You have a job to do!" the man snaps his fingers and the nasty man disappears.

"Ignore him, you know he only does it to rile you," the woman says.

"Well it's working. Damned Titans," he scoffs.

I finished my snack. I walk tentatively over to the fridge to look for more.

"You really need to tell us your name, little one," the woman says.

"My---m---my---my mom---my mom," I shake my head no.

"Your mom says not to tell strangers your name?" the man asks.

I shake my head.

"You think your mother would get angry at you?"

I nod.

"Go on home then, don't worry her. You can come back if you're hungry," the man says.

I nod. I should try to go home. My other cow is there.