"Are you a bad person?" She asked.
Aiden's response was strange. Rather than answering her, he simply returned the question.
"Are you a bad person, miss?".
"No I'm not," answered the young miss. "But I heard grownups are bad people."
Technically, I'm an infant. After all, I just woke up a few hours ago
But grownups are bad people?
"Says who?" Aiden inquired.
"A little birdie told me" she lied, obviously withholding information from him. But Aiden instantly guessed that she had a guardian of some sort. Whoever it was, he or she might have been responsible for the deaths that occurred. Of course, this made him very curious and slightly wary at the same time.
She's defensive against me. Although slightly. Someone had to be responsible for that
"A talking birdie?" He asked, pretending to believe her lies. "I've never seen one before."
Aiden softened his gaze. "Do you have one? I would love to see."
Seeing the feigned submissiveness and gentility in his pleading eyes, the little one felt guilty. And she ceased to lie any further.
"Umm.." she stuttered, "Actually there's no birdie. Mama told me."
"Mama? The bird's name is Mama?"
"Nooo!" She insisted, "There's no talking bird. Only Mama and Papa."
And that was how Aiden discovered that she, in fact, had not one but two parents as her guardians.
From the patches on both sides of her face, she might not be human. If her mother told her to avoid humans, then she probably isn't herself. It's most likely the same for her father
"Wow…" Aiden exclaimed, "I don't have a Mama. It must be nice having one."
"Mama is wonderful!" She cheered. Then, her expression suddenly went downcast.
"You don't have a Mama?" She asked, glancing at Aiden with a pity-filled gaze. "Sowwie…"
"Can't you share your mama with me?" Aiden begged, still playing on her conscience. But, her response wasn't as subtle as expected.
"No!" She declared. "Mama is only for me!"
"Then give me Papa.."
"No! Carla loves both Mama and Papa!"
That was how Aiden learnt of her name—Carla.
"Ah..shucks!" He complained in a weary tone. "But I'm lonely," he said. "Can we be friends?"
"You wanna be friends with Carla?"
"Hm," he nodded. Then, he flashed a ridiculously big smile. "I'm Aiden."
Rather than an immediate answer, the child stood by herself for a while, muttering things silently. But Aiden could hear her.
"Carla doesn't have many friends. Mr. Long hair seems nice. Maybe he's not a bad guy."
I'm Mr Long Hair?
"...."
"I'm Carla. I hope you're not a bad person."
"Great! We're friends now!"
Finally, Aiden saw a chance to ask.
"Who are the bad people?"
Carla put on a thoughtful expression for a moment before responding. "Those people." She said, pointing at Aiden. "Like you and…umm…. Like Mama but not Mama."
"...?"
"Mama is not a bad person," she added. "But they look like you and Mama."
Either she was referring to a doppelganger, or her mother was actually human. But what were the odds? Especially if the father wasn't human?
Obviously, there's a lot I still don't know
I should avoid asking any further questions. Instead, I'll get her to lead me to 'Mama'
'Papa' is most likely the culprit
If my life is threatened, I'll use his daughter as collateral for safety
Carla's gaze wandered. First, she glanced at the trees, then at the sky, then at the corpses. Her casual expression made Aiden wonder how she wasn't terrified by the 'still observers'.
Carla's next words surprised Aiden.
"Are you scared?" She questioned.
"Oh?"
Carla pointed at the charred statues with her small index finger. Aiden noticed that there were those red, scaly patches on her knuckles as well. Just like the one on her face, it blended seamlessly with her skin—as it was a part of it.
"Those statues." She said, "Papa puts them there to scare the bad guys away."
So he was the culprit after all
"Really?" Aiden's eyes lit up. "Well, I'm not scared because I'm not a bad person."
"Me too." she chirped in sweetly.
Finally, Carla's mental guard was dissolved, and she learnt to grow a little more comfortable around Mr Long Hair. Of course, this did not slip Aiden's observation.
"Do you want to meet my other friends?" Carla asked.
I kind of want to meet your parents instead
"Let's return to Mama first," he suggested.
"No! No! No!" She argued. "You can't meet Mama or Papa."
"Why not?"
"Papa doesn't like you. He thinks you're a bad person."
Huh? Does he already know of me?
How?
"Papa knows me?"
"No." She answered. "But he won't like you."
Phew!
"What about Mama?"
Carla was about to repeat the same thing when she suddenly broke into thought.
"Maybe…" she mumbled. "I dunno…"
Then she glanced at Aiden with a hopeful glint in her eyes.
"Follow me."
.....
The trip to her abode didn't take long. Both Aiden and Carla reached it within ten minutes of walking. During the brief journey, however, Aiden saw a lot of strange, alienish but tiny creatures—either feasting on the woods, or writhing in the soil. But, not trusting his knowledge of animals, Aiden just assumed that they were simply organisms that he didn't know about.
Even if they weren't, there was no point dawdling about them.
"This is Carla's house," Carla cheered brightly.
It was a shelter concealed by the nest of leafless trees. A brown, wooden house sat in the midst of a round clearing. The soil was moist, signifying that it had rained, and the petrichoric scent, abnormally, smelled sweetly. The house wasn't too big, but neither was it too small. One bungalow, with a short staircase running towards the entrance door surrounded by a front porch.
The roof was a patchwork of dark wooden shingles, and a narrow chimney rose from it, puffing a thin smoky thread. The porch had a hand-carved railing, which was water-damaged in some areas.
But in general, it was a pretty well-made cabin. It seemed spacious enough for a small family at least.
"Wait here," Carla urged, gesturing with her palm. Aiden complied of course, standing by the nearest tree as he watched her saunter away. Although he appeared calm on the surface, he was ready to take off the second he sensed any form of danger. Without him knowing, every muscle in his feet tensed up, like a trigger waiting for release.
Unexpectedly, Carla didn't go in to fetch her parents. Instead, she stood by the door and called for her mother.
"Mama! Mama! I brought a new friend!"
A voice sounded in response. A much more mature, feminine voice.
"You already showed me 'Steve', dear." Her mother replied, answering from the cabin. "He was a bit…rusty, but he was a nice guy."
Somewhere in the kitchen—a regular kitchen, a human woman stood by two metal basins, each situated on a wooden stand, with a few buckets of water by the side. There were several wooden bowls and cups stacked on a wooden counter next to her. Each time she spoke, she would raise her head and glance at the window in front of her, even though Carla's voice came from the opposite direction.
Carla pouted and stomped her foot on the floor in mild anger. "No! No!" She protested. "Not Steve. It's Mr. Long Hair."
At first, there was silence. A quite long silence. Then her mother's voice came in a much more serious tone, but it was shaky.
"Ar-are you giving hair to your dolls now?" She asked, sounding very concerned.
"They are not dolls!" Carla retorted, "And Mr. Long Hair is different."
That was how Aiden extrapolated that her 'other friends' were just dolls after all.
Must be lonely
Once again, Carla's mother did not say a word in response. This time, the stillness was even longer, and there was an unexplainable tension that he could feel, slowly building up in the atmosphere.
Aiden was just about exploding on his heels. The longer she stayed silent, the greater his paranoia.
Who ever knows the plots of a woman?
Suddenly, there was frantic, hurried movement. From the cabin, speedy footsteps advanced towards them, growing louder each second.
Aiden was already half-turned, fully ready to stop existing in that vicinity, when the door opened immediately.
Luckily, there was no weapon in her hands.
A blonde woman, with contrasting features to him. She had azure irises, an oval, well-moulded face, and a skin beaming with the lustre of youth. Aiden once guessed she was some middle-aged woman, but she looked like she had barely hit her thirties.
Incongruous to the radiance of her beauty, was the dread in her eyes. An expression of pure terror that consumed every glint, every sparkle, and every shine in her eyes.
She grabbed Carla's arm in a frenzy and pulled her into her embrace, clutching her a little…too..tightly.
But her gaze was fixed on Aiden.
Pushing her back towards the door, she lowered herself and knelt, her patterned white clothes matching Carla's.
"Mama you don't understand," Carla struggled in her mother's arms as she uttered muffled words. "He's not a bad person."
But her mother was insistent.
"Please!" She pleaded. "I beg you!"
"PLEASE SPARE US!!!"