Wicked Little Creatures

1

Cherie knew the missing kids weren't runaways long before they found Alice's corpse. She knew who really took them, what took them, but adults had a hard time believing in monsters. Even when they stood two feet from them. Maybe if the monster looked like a creepy, dirty, man or woman, they might have listened, but this monster was smart. It kept its hands clean and its smile sweet.

She knew who it was. Cherie had known who the monster was from they moment they appeared.

"Cherie Mae Ellis," Sister Mary snapped, breaking her line of sight of the body. Poor Alice, nothing more than a mangled pulp, her body withered almost unrecognizable if not for the silver daisy barrette still clinging to wisps of her hair. Sister Mary's face was white as cheese as she flapped her arms at Cherie in a shooing motion. "Go back to bed child." Her voice was strained, her attention already wavering as other curious kids started to appear at the door. "Out children, out!"

The others listened, pale from just a glimpse of the grisly sight on the floor.

Cherie was no so easily moved, staring at the body, her shoulders tense as she watched the edges of the shifting crowd.

There it was, standing at the back, pretty as you please. A little smile playing on painfully familiar lips. Cherie dropped her gaze. She didn't want to deal with that hot mess this early. Instead she watched the Sisters flutter around what remained of Alice, several of them crying. Sister Joan was the hardest to watch, kneeling down to stroke the girls withered face with trembling fingers. Cherie knew the two had been close. The Sisters loved all of them in their way, but they couldn't believe in the monster, not yet. How many more girls would die before they did?

Her shoulders twitched. None, if Cherie could help it. Sister Mary finally realized she was still there, but rather than shoo her away, the older woman wrapped her arms around her in a fierce hug. The gesture was an unexpected one and cracked the hardness she wore like armor. She felt her chin tremble.

"This is what happened to the others," she said. She felt the Sister stiffen. Could already hear the denial forming on the woman's tongue as she pulled away. She looked up into the Sister's face, pleading with her eyes for the woman to listen, to believe. "It's getting bolder."

Or sloppier. Either way, it wasn't taking as much care to conceal its victims now.

"Cherie, I know this seems--"

She yanked herself away from the Sister. "Look at her," she said, jerking her head at the fallen Alice. "Keep telling yourself these are accidents, or even some sick pervert who somehow got in," she snapped, backing away from the Sisters. "Keep telling yourselves that as we keep dying."

"Cherie!" Sister Mary started toward her.

She ran.

Sister Mary gave chase, but her habit quickly tangled her legs, and Cherie left her far behind. She had her own hiding places here, running hard until her lungs pinched. She jogged up the final set of steps of the bell tower, flopping herself down on the old mattress she'd dragged up here. This was her secret place. Usually she came here to think, but she hadn't always been alone. Not until Jenny disappeared.

She was the first.

Cherie lay on her stomach, nibbling on her thumb nail as she mulled over this latest development. Why leave Alice out in the open? Had the monster really become so sloppy? Or was it a message? Did it want to be found? Did it want the Sisters to believe Evil walked among them? And Alice...her throat tightened just thinking about her. Alice was--had been seventeen, only a couple months away from freedom, and she'd been here the longest. Longer even than Cherie. The corpse floated through her thoughts, the angles of the body all wrong. Alice looked fragile, sunken, as if she were hollowed out.

Cherie hadn't known what the monster did to the girls, but now she had a pretty good idea what happened. The horror of it. Alice's mouth was still open in a frozen scream, her skin pulled taut away from her teeth. She'd died screaming.

They all died screaming, including Jenny.

Tears streamed down her face. She wiped them with the sleeve of her night gown, sniffling loudly.

"Why are you crying?"

She yelped at the voice, completely unaware she had company. Spinning up on her knees, she caught sight of the girl in the window sill, six feet above the ground. How did she get up there? How had she crept up there unnoticed? Cherie blinked at her as she eased herself to the support beam that ran parallel to the window, swinging down the beam like an expert before landing beside Cherie with an audible thump.

"I didn't hear you come in." Obviously, though now she felt dumb for saying so.

"Oh, I was already here," said the girl. "You were a little preoccupied." She was a waif of a girl, in a plain, white gown that brushed her ankles. Her white blond hair hung in a braid slung over one shoulder. She was too pale, between her hair and skin, she looked washed out, as if she were missing hues. Only her eyes held any color, a soft, mellow umber, much lighter than Cherie's own bitter chocolate brown.

Those eyes peered at her now, softened with by an emotion she couldn't put her finger on. "Why were you crying?"

"I wasn't crying, not really," said Cherie, absently wiping at her face. Tears wouldn't do her much good anyway. She glanced at the girl, trying to remember if and where she'd seen her before. She did look vaguely familiar but there were an awful lot of girls that cycled through here. Cherie might have worked harder to befriend them if she knew she'd be here so long. Orphans had an unspoken shelf life they didn't talk about. After a certain point most of them knew they weren't leaving the Sister's orphanage until they hit eighteen.

Cherie was barely a year old when she arrived, twelve now. She couldn't guess the girl's age, her pale face young but there was a weight to her eyes that made her seem older.

"What's your name?" Cherie spoke with a sigh.

The girl offered her a small sad smile. "Eliza, though everyone just calls me Lizzy," she said, folding her hands in front of her. Her posture was oddly formal.

"Cherie. Listen, Lizzy, it's really dangerous to be out alone right now. You should go back to your room."

Lizzy frowned at her. "But then you'd be alone up here," she said.

The girl had a point, but Cherie wasn't helpless. She knew one thing that hurt the monster and she carried it on her at all times.

"I'll be fine."

To her credit, Lizzy didn't buy her half-assed excuse for a moment, a sentiment clearly conveyed by her expression. Cherie laughed before she could help herself.

"Okay, you're right, I shouldn't be up here either. Why don't we leave together?" Not like she couldn't come back later.

Another sad smile. "Sure." She hugged herself as they left. It was pretty cold up here. "Why is it so dangerous?"

Cherie pulled at a loose thread hanging from the cuff of her sleeve. She couldn't exactly go ruining a possible friendship with her "cray cray monster theory." Besides, the Little Princess was clearly the skeptical type.

"Just trust me. This whole building isn't safe anymore."

She paused when she realized Lizzy wasn't following her. The girl's mellow brown eyes met hers.

"Because of the monster?"