Era of Greed [✔ COMPLETE] (Chrim Chronicles #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Anna

Sitting inside the green bathtub, a little girl with pink cheeks pushed a small blue ship through the foam drifting on the steaming water. Glistening long locks in the coldest shade of brown stuck against her tiny pale back, its ends dipping into the water. It was a hair color much like Anna's own. There were some swollen smudges on the little girl's shoulder blades and thin arms, their colors a blend of blue, purple and green. Anna squeezed the yellow sponge until no more water leaked out of it and pressed it on her daughter's back.

The little girl let out a cry and abruptly turned around. Large silver eyes stared at Anna, standing above a tiny, freckled button nose. "Ouch, that hurts."

"All right, hush. I'll be careful."

The child fixed her attention back on the toy boat, for which Anna was grateful. Gnashing her teeth out of frustration, she continued to sponge the girl's skinny little back, only this time she made sure she didn't rub the bruises. Anna loathed the day her daughter had begun to speak. There was no escaping that loud, high-pitched voice, not to mention those awful giggles. Though, the day of the girl's birth was the day Anna despised most. That day had left her deep scars, haunting nightmares, illusions of laughing shadows, along with this creature she was forced to look after. It was not a child she saw, but a monster. A creature so vile and disgusting Anna couldn't bear to look at her.

The little one shrieked. Anna realized she was pressing the sponge so tight against her bruise that her knuckles had turned white, as well as the skin she was squeezing. Abruptly, Anna lifted her hands in the air. Turning her face, the child stared at her with trembling lips, more confused than sad. The woman's eyes stood wide with fear. Despite her hatred, she was still a mother who held no desire to hurt her daughter.

At least, that's what she told herself.

Anna's hands began to tremble. She rose up and gazed down at the little one, who lifted her head and watched her as well. The muscles in Anna's hands gained a will of their own, arching her fingers and bringing them slowly down. The child giggled and held up her little plastic boat, offering it to her mom. Anna wrapped her hands around the girl's neck and pressed her thumbs on her throat. The giggles died, replaced by screams. To muffle her screams, Anna pushed the girl's face underneath the water. The white foam drifted off and bubbles of dying breath appeared. Flailing tiny hands grabbed into air. Underneath the water, her terrified silver eyes looked deep into Anna's as she tried to cling onto life.

The bubbles stopped.

Underneath the water lay the tiny, motionless body; naked, defenseless. Anna screamed and removed her hands from the girl's throat, allowing the body to float up. She quickly took the body out of the tub and began to press on her chest; one, two, three, four, five, then breathed in her mouth, and repeated the cycle. The little one remained still, a child who had been giggling only moments earlier had turned into an empty, lifeless shell.

Anna began to sob and shake her head. "No, no, no."

Desperation struck her. Though she remembered drowning her daughter, as she always remembered when the darkness took over, she believed she'd had no control over herself when it happened. This time she had gone too far, she knew. When she realized the child was beyond reanimating, Anna held her palms above the body and begged Mother Nature for help. Thin, light-blue lines emerged from her palms and crept upon the girl's belly, chest, and neck. A minute passed, then five, thirty. After a long while, the child's chest shot straight up. She fell on her hands and knees and coughed violently. Anna held her shoulder with one hand as she gently patted her tiny back with the other. Streams of water leaked out from her lungs.

Once it stopped, the girl looked up with large, terrified eyes, shrieked, and ran away. Her wet feet left prints on the floor. Anna ran after her. Right before the child reached the front door, she grabbed her arm and threw her on the floor. Anna held tight onto the tiny hands with one hand, raising the other in the air. Lying on the floor, the screaming girl shook her head and kicked her legs as she tried to free herself from her mother's grasp. The spell in the Old Language flowed from her lips as she let the pale blue lights rain upon her daughter. It was the same spell she'd always use after the darkness took her over, one which erased every memory Wren had. How many times had she erased her memory now; thirty, fifty, a hundred? Anna did not know. A whole lot of times, that much was certain.