Young Writers Society

This is the start of a story I've been trying to get running straight for a few months now. I've uploaded one beginning, or version, if you will, to the site, but...yeah. I didn't like it. so I'm hitting the 'reset' button.

The cobblestones were rough under his bare feet, warmer than the muggy air, and covered in several layers of mud and dust that Sulli could feel sticking to him. The small, blurred forms of animals darted across his path, making him stop and start again clumsily, over and over.

There were people all around, but they were neater for some reason, neater than the animals and the bleeding energy that covered everything and leaked everywhere. They lined up on one side of every street, never both sides, trying to sell things or just sitting on makeshift stools and watching the world go by listlessly. Many of them wore masks across their noses and mouths.

Once or twice a pedestrian might appear, shambling hurriedly down the middle of the road, in which circumstance the vendors would stare hungrily, predatorily at them like starved foxes, mentally urging them to buy something. But as Sulli noticed, hardly anyone ever did. It seemed so futile.

He stopped at one woman’s booth after a few hours of feeling sickeningly lost.

She had very tired-looking clothes on, patchy, mismatched. Her mask was a faded grey-pink piece of cloth. Sulli, who was nearly blind, couldn’t perceive the signs of age very well- strands of grey were drowned in brown, wrinkles blurred to smoothness- but he could tell she was old. She stooped a little, and her eyes were milky with cataracts, set deep in her tanned skin.

The table smelled acrid and wet. Dead animals littered it, squirrels and rabbits and mice, their fur russet with their own blood. Sulli felt sick. He knew that the people here ate meat, but it didn’t mean he had to like it.

He pressed on.

“Excuse me-” he started. The woman cut him off with a cackle like burning leaves.

“This one’s a looker,” she crowed. “Look at ‘im. Danny, Hey, get over here!” There was a muffled voice from beyond the booth, somewhere inside the crumbling building behind the table.

“Dan! Dan. Leave it, you gotta look at this fella!”

Sulli felt uncomfortably exposed, but he tried to ignore it. He addressed the old woman again, raising his voice a little. “I just really need directions, please.” he added,” I can pay you if you want.”

The woman’s cruel laugh tapered abruptly at the mention of payment. She was starving for it.

A large man shuffled into view He rubbed his forehead with his hand tiredly, and Sulli was alarmed to see that it left a red imprint there, like paint.

“Whaddya want, Ratsy?”

“Takea look.” The woman picked up a rabbit by its tied feet and waved it at the boy in front of her carelessly.

The man leaned over the table hulkingly. His hands were huge, the left one crushing the velvet ear of one of the larger corpses, obscuring it from Sulli’s view. His beady dark gaze looked into Sulli’s darker one. He wore no mask.

“ Yeah. Yeah, Ratsy, that’s a nice catch you got there.” The man seemed to talk to Sulli, but his words were directed at the woman-Ratsy. Sulli wasn’t sure if she was his mother or his wife. They probably had weird mating habits, too.

“Excuse me, sir,” Sulli repeated. “I need directions to a healer. Do you know a healer?”

The man, Dan, ignored him. He reached his large, blood-wet fingers out to pinch the material of Sulli’s shirtsleeve. “Soft,” he mused. His other hand brushed his own course, heavy vest almost longingly.

“It’s cotton,” Sulli said, flinching off the large man’s touch. “Do you have directions to a healer?”

“How much you want for that shirt?” the man asked.

“Um. it’s not for sale. I just-”

“Hell, it isn’t,” Dan said. “Everything’s for sale. All you gotta do’s name a price, kiddling.”

Sulli swallowed. “I’ll get cold,” he said. “It gets cold soon, sir.” It was a lie. He never got cold. Ever.

The woman next to Danny put a gnarled hand on Sulli’s shoulder. he shuddered.

“Well, now, the woman said. He could hear her teeth in her words, and he pictured him sharp like a dog’s, sharp like tiny mountains. Like the mountains he could see so far away from home.

“Can’t help you if you won’t help us. Now, if you are gonna be buying something, r’if you wanna sell that nice bitta cloth, then, well, we’re always here.”

Ratsy looked at the large man, who smiled with her suddenly, and they burst into laughter.

“Well, sometimes we’re always here,” she laughed, her voice painfully smoke-roughened, muffled underneath her mask. “Sometimes…”

“Sometimes,” Dan echoed. He slammed a hand on the table heartily, and a fleck of red flew onto Ratsy’s face. She didn't bother to wipe it away. Maybe she didn't notice.

“Oh,” said Sulli dumbly. “Um, well, well.. I’ll buy something from you, then. I’ll, I’ll buy a… mouse.” He touched the nearest animal on the table, tracing it until he found the tail and dangling it in front of his face, and trying to be casual. He wanted to throw up. This was so disrespectful... Poor little mouse.

“That’s a rat,” said the old woman. “Juicier than a mouse.” 

:) hope you enjoyed