Predator

22

"Mike," she whispered, her voice carrying a glimmer of hope. The girl crouched down, leaning forward, her hand stopping an inch away from the wet elephant trunk, hesitating to touch it before pulling back.

The elephant's tear-filled eyes avoided Amelia's gaze, slowly moving towards the edge of the cage. Not all wild elephants are friendly, especially those captured and caged. Regretfully, Amelia withdrew her hand.

Liam scoffed, "If you want to touch it, just do it. Do you think it's afraid of you?"

"It's afraid of me," she said in a deep voice. Staring into those fear-filled, wary elephant eyes, a faint, almost mocking smile played on his lips. "A three-year-old elephant can't do anything to me. If it wants to kill me, it shouldn't pretend to starve... No more playing dead."

"You need to grow up fast enough so you don't have to fear me anymore."

Amelia was taken aback, uncertain who Liam's words were really directed at.

"In the corner of the cage, there's a bottle of milk..." Liam glanced at Amelia. "Don't let the beast starve."

He then picked up a membrane-covered woven bag from the ground and walked towards the center of the factory, where the hunting dogs were kept. Several hunting dogs excitedly approached, but Liam paused, his broad back facing the elephant cage. He seemed to pick something up from the ground. When he straightened, his right hand held a bag-wrapped object, and his bootsteps grew distant.

"I'll be back soon. If you run away, I'll tear its ear off."

Mike's large ears flapped twice, as if understanding. Its rough trunk coiled around Amelia's wrist once Liam disappeared from sight.

"Don't be afraid," she murmured.

She was no longer alone. Even in captivity, she now had a reason to keep going.

When Liam returned, he carried a faint earthy scent, contrasting with the room filled with the loud gulping sounds and the sweet aroma of milk.

Amelia held a bottle of milk almost half an arm's length long, her wrist still wrapped with the elephant's sticky trunk.

"It is a boy."

Amelia looked up, puzzled, but before she could speak, Liam had already grabbed Mike's short trunk, blocking Amelia from the elephant. He extended his muddy hand, taunting the elephant, "Smell? I just buried your mom."

The little elephant's expression turned ferocious, as if wanting to chew and swallow Liam, but it lacked the strength, becoming a toy under his hand, its trunk smeared with more mud.

Liam, seen as the enemy by the elephant, grabbed the soft and fragrant girl in his arms, raising an eyebrow as if showing off, "You've finished your milk. Now, it's my turn to eat."

Without lingering, he carried Amelia out of the factory, leaving behind the sound of Mike's angry stomping on dry grass.

"Rustle, rustle."

Almost the only sounds besides the military boots on the ground.

In the hallway, Amelia, lying obediently in his arms, asked a question that had been weighing on her mind for a long time, "Why does it happen?"

She referred to the sudden, sharp cry that pierced the night sky.

"The terror of witnessing its mother's death is almost fatal for a baby elephant. At that moment, it realizes the tusks they pride themselves on will bring disaster to the herd."

Liam's face was half-hidden in the dim hallway light, "Every night it recalls the nightmare, it will scream."

"Will it remember this for its entire life?"

"Of course, elephants have excellent memories. They will remember for a lifetime."

Liam, rubbing the girl's wrist meaningfully, said, "You know that, don't you?"

They reached the third-floor room. Liam set her down, but the conversation wasn't over.

She softly accused, "Remember what? Remember you executioners?"

Liam, who was about to unlock the door, looked up to meet her eyes. Even clothed, the scars on his chest were still shocking.

"Do you believe that we are actually the same kind of people?"