Zane | ✔︎

Chapter Twenty-One | Tiras Akoli.

The small little girl held the toy turtle and tugged at it with every emptying hand. With a scrunching nose and a displeased scrunch, she kept caressing with it until she was satisfied. Most of the chips disappeared one by one, failing to suppress the midnight hunger in her body.

If she wanted to, then she could've climbed up to the upper shelves to get the better food. But she couldn't be bothered, settling for items she found adequate.

She didn't let her height stop her.

If only people would've appreciated her as much as she appreciated herself.

It was convenient for her to have the whole Manor be asleep at this hour. No one would wake up to oppose her actions. No one would wake up to correct her, as they would.

Dealing with an overly conscious mother and a strict father can be challenging. The only people who'd grant her things outside her good list were also asleep. Or was not in the Manor.

He was not there in his room.

She couldn't smell him. She wouldn't have any shame in waking him if he was.

Her dirty brown hair kept annoying her by brushing over her eyes, making her sometimes give out a small growl with a dried mouth.

She couldn't sleep with the over-driven adrenaline in her body. She tends to get those episodes when something interesting is happening in the house. Something out of the usual, anything not boring.

She had an ample amount of distractions to keep herself busy. One of them is eating. She becomes slow when she eats. In a manner, it is a liability. Since her heightened senses are not apt during her relaxed stance. She doesn't pay closer attention to her smell and hearing. 

Especially hearing.

She barely heard him come onto the same floor. His footsteps were heavier than a grave but quieter than a prayer.

She barely heard him even after he carried a loaded shotgun with him, heavy as a boulder, since it was drenched in scarlet red. The blood simmered onto the wooden floor, turned to ruin after he let his muddy boots grace the clean surface, something that she couldn't even pick up with her nose.

Molly turned away from the kitchen island and dared to run around, widening her doe eyes that carried horror and fear from the deplorable site, her chewing coming to a pause and her body suspending any movement. 

A shriek left her crumb-adorned lips. 

Her toes curled, and she squirmed under the stare. 

The stare that would seize any person's sanity into submission. 

The stare that would command without intent.

The stare of those red eyes. 

"You could've caught a cold. It's raining." Molly reprimanded, seeing his damp clothes and rain-scented hair that was all over his face. Zane paid no care, coming into the silent kitchen of the Manor to do his business. 

His smell was enough to alert her and abandon all attempts to eat anything else. She forbade her toy turtle to see their older brother like this, making Molly hide it behind her back sheepishly. 

He briskly walked past the empty packets of chips and snacks that were beautifully thrown over every tabletop, making the little girl carry a look of embarrassment on her cheeks. She scooted away from the island in a gist once the beast carried himself past her, all the way to the fridge, and she fidgeted with her dirty fingers after seeing the blood from his hands paint the handle whilst he received ice-cold water.