Crimson sally's Arc

Chapter 4 of 8

The boss dropped behind his desk. Sally heard the guards' boots stop at the door. "Please," the man said. His voice cracked. "Please, I have money. Take all of it." Bills spilled from his hands and scattered on the floor. Sally stepped closer, horn low. But the pleading gave Sally pause. Was this fear real, or a trick like the six men before him? Sally remembered those men. Rough faces, kind hearts. One coached children. One drove a sick friend to treatment. Sally had almost eaten good people. Now this soft man begged the same way. Sally could not smell the truth. The boss's words could hide anything. "Stop lying," Sally said. "You stole their pay. You fired them." "I made mistakes!" he wailed. "I'm not a bad man!" He curled tighter behind the desk. His hands shook. It looked like real terror. Sally's hunger stalled. A bad human would deserve eating. A frightened one might not. Then the peach-creature waddled in through the open door. The fuzzy round thing rolled past the frozen guards, the purple bulb bouncing in its belly. It had helped Sally break through. Now it stopped at the desk and sniffed the scattered bills. It squealed and shrank back, as if the money itself stank. The boss saw the little creature. His face changed fast. Fear dropped away. "Get that filthy thing out of here," he snapped. He kicked at it. His boot caught the peach-creature and sent it rolling. The purple bulb tumbled loose across the floor. The creature squealed in pain. Sally watched the switch. The begging had been a mask. The real man showed himself the second he thought no one weak was watching. He hurt a small helpless thing without a blink. That was the answer Sally needed. The boss caught himself. He froze, face going soft again. "I—I didn't mean—please—" But the plea was hollow now. Sally had seen the truth under it. Sally lunged across the desk. The horn came down. The boss screamed once, then Sally's teeth closed. Blood spread across the scattered bills. The guards stumbled back, then turned and ran from the room. They wanted no part of what they saw. Sally ate. The prey was gone. This one had earned it. The peach-creature limped closer and nudged the loose purple bulb back into its shell. It watched Sally with round eyes, no longer afraid. When it was done, Sally licked the horn clean and looked at the open door. The path outside had gone quiet. One bad human, finished. But the man had spoken of others. "Mistakes," he'd said, as if many people had suffered them. Somewhere those others waited. Sally stepped over the empty desk and out the door, hungry again, following the red toward the next name.