Crimson sally's Arc

Chapter 5 of 8

Sally followed the red path away from the boss's empty desk. The little peach-shaped creature rolled along behind, the purple bulb tucked safe in its shell. But the path split, then split again. Sally stopped. The boss had named more people he wronged. He never said where they lived. Without a place to want, the rainbow could not lead. Sally's hunger spread thin, pulling in every direction at once. Sally lowered the horn and sniffed. Nothing. "He gave me names and no doors," Sally said. The path under Sally's hooves faded pale. Hunger without a target had no power here. The peach-creature bumped Sally's leg and squealed, then rolled a few steps down the leftmost path. Sally did not move. "You don't know where either." But the round thing kept nudging. Its shell cracked wider, and the eggplant inside leaned out. This time the purple thing did not stay a mute bulb. It grew a leafy crown and two thin arms. It blinked warm eyes at Sally and spoke. "You're chasing smoke," the eggplant said. Its voice was calm, almost kind. "You want the men he hurt. But you don't know their faces. So the path can't find them." It patted the peach shell like a home it lived in. "I know a place. A den full of men who lounge and drink and never work an honest hour." Sally's ears turned forward. "Are they bad?" "They fired the boss's workers when he told them to," the eggplant said. It pointed one thin arm down the left path. "They laughed while good men lost their pay. Now they sit in their den and play games." Sally's hunger snapped tight around the image. A room. Men. A crime. That was enough to want. The pale path flushed deep red again under Sally's hooves. The rainbow had a direction now. "Show me," Sally said. The eggplant climbed back into the peach shell and pulled the leaves shut over its face. The round creature rolled ahead, and Sally ran after it. The red path curved and dropped. At the bottom a door hung open. Inside, a low room glowed with a screen. Men sprawled on couches in their underwear. Cans and cards littered the floor. One racked balls on a pool table. Another laughed at the game, feet up, a drink balanced on his chest. None of them saw Sally yet. The screen threw light on their easy faces. Sally counted them from the doorway. Six men. The same number as the first room, the one that had almost tricked Sally into eating good people. Sally's hunger held steady this time. Sally had a name for the crime and a place to feel it. But Sally remembered the boss, soft and begging until he kicked the small creature. Faces lied. Sally would have to learn the truth of these six before the horn came down. Sally stepped through the door.