Purple-belly fights fatigue. He no longer smiles because apart from him there is no one else to reassure.
Since they are all asleep, he no longer hid his fear. His face is pale, his purplish lips are pursed and his eyebrows are furrowed.
He undoes the buttons of his striped suit to breathe better while watching the surroundings. he is sitting against the trunk of a tree, around him the others are curled up on the ground.
If the weren't all so exhausted it would be very hard for them fall asleep wet in the cold in the middle of the day and in the open air.
it is out of consideration that he does not wake the old man who was to be on duty after him.
The old man is tenacious, and unable to show his weakness due to age. He does not slow down the group, does not complain, does not rest.
But no one is made of steel.
Purple belly knows that the old man is exhausted despite everything.
Something in his twitching eyelids and his sometimes trembling legs.
Out of pride, this one says nothing and does not accept being treated differently.
So purple belly prefers to let him sleep longer without asking for his opinion.
If one of the members of the group is pushed to the limit it could impact all the others.
The middle-aged man think .After having opened the collar of his shirt he knead his swollen ankles.
. he should find a weapon, one that is roughly the equivalent of the knife he lost. He lost it or somebody stole it...
. he did not want to tell the others that he has no weapon but when he suggested using the blades of the group as a kind of spear with stick found on the way no one mentionned anything about the fact that he didn't make one too.
. Which probably means they already know...or at least some of them.
Purple-belly does not want to bring up the subject. Mistrust has been building between them for a while. After all, once at the lake, it is not yet certain that they will be able to cross it without having to pay... pay with a head.
And that price doesn't seem like much to pay if the alternative is to get stuck in that place.
In conclusion, once they arrive at the lake, some of them may in despair give in to fear and abandon all moral principles.
Which will lead to inevitable arguments and possibly a deadly altercation.
A discreet crack pushes the man to raise his head. He watches intently, his breath hitching in his throat for a moment.
He sees no suspicious shadows between the twisted tree trunks, just a crow that has come to perch on a emaciated branch.
The bird's black eye stares at him. Purple belly exhales for a long time, a little tense, but since he can't see anything else, his stubby fingers come back to knead his ankle.
Here there is nothing to eat, the sun does not set, the swamp forest does not end.
Not to mention all those beings that lurk around. It's normal to be nervous under these circumstances, and the longer the group stays in this constant anxiety the more likely they are to have silly fights among themselves and behave irrationally.
Talking about his suddenly missing weapon could lead to an argument that could lead directly to something bloodier before he even reaches the lake.
what's the point of thinking about that now? it is more urgent to find a weapon to defend oneself.
He could take an elongated stone and carve it since he is on guard anyway he has time.
When the supervisor is tired he wakes the next person but as Purple-belly does not intend to wake the old man and given the general exhaustion he estimates that he has at least a few hours in front of him. Anyway he is tired but he is too tense to manage to sleep.
Slowly there, the man gets up, the bottom of his pants already covered in mud fall on his ankles.
His position is the best to monitor the surroundings, he looks around.
He still sees no danger emerging from the shadows. Everything is motionless except for the bird cleaning its coal wings.
he tries to walk between the sleeping people. Delicately, he moves forward in silence.
His eyes search the ground for a suitable stone, but the ground is flat with a lot of grass blocking his sight.
He walks a little further, almost leaving the encirclement of the group.
He stops between Pony and Charismatic, both are immersed in dreams that seem unpleasant.
The man is still scanning the ground, closer to the roots of the trees there is less grass and he can see a few pebbles. Above him, the crow no longer cleans itself but suddenly caws.
Purple belly glares at him and the raven stares back. Another crow lands next to the first and both caw as if to provoke the man.
Purple belly frowns then turns his attention back to the mud. There between long-stemmed yellow flowers there is a stone which appears to be of sufficient size. He comes a little closer and lowers himself to check.
Behind him the crows are louder making him almost startled.
He turns around again, stone in hand.
Another black bird arrived and now it respond to the other two.
Purple belly exhales .
Bloody birds, louder than magpies.
He studies the stone but it is not big enough. The crows caw loudly , the strident noise is like a sneer.
Without thinking about it the man throws the stone at them.
The birds easily avoid it by flying some black feathers spinning to the ground, but they turn in the sky and do not leave the area.
Purple belly doesn't have time to lower his arm when out of the corner of his eye he sees someone slipping out of the shadows, apparently hidden for a while behind the tree just to his right. The man's eyes widen, his purplish lips parting to let a gasp be heard.
It is a child who stabs him by throwing himself on him.
A child as silent as a ghost and vicious enough to twist his knife already deep in his abdomen as if to tamper with his entrails.
Purple belly has his mouth open but he remains speechless.
His first instinct is to step back.
His trembling legs blindly recoil as he stares in shock at his attacker's black eyes.
The two girls had told them that a strange child was around but...
The boy follows him, his two black eyes never leaving him for a second like a soulless doll. It almost seems like a grotesque dance, one stepping back with his arms sweeping the air in a frantic motion and the other stepping forward with both hands firmly gripping the handle of the knife. Under the pain Purple belly grimaces and regains his sanity after a second or two of sheer panic.
With each breath he feels the blade in his belly which is cruelly cold against his organs. his blood runs in thin streams on his striped shirt and suit.
He tries to pull the knife out, his two hands resting on the boy's.
The child's hands are also cold, stiff and wet.
A strange texture like the skin of a scaleless crocodile.
Purple belly growls and backs away. His strength prevails and the cold metal dislodges. But in stepping back like that, he ends up stumbling on his own. He falls on his back and the child is carried away by the fall.
Now striding the man, the blue-skinned boy doesn't hesitate, the knife that had recoiled a little comes back piercing Purple belly's guts when he doesn't even have time to think. the man groans, painfully raising his head to meet the somber gaze of this inflexible being.
When the pain reaches a certain level our muscles freeze paralyzing us and leaving us defenseless.
The child no longer gives him a look, his eyes go to his belly.
Like a fish being gutted, he considers it already dead as soon as he hooks it. From bottom to top he slices the meat.
His other hand rests on the man's lips to muffle any noise.
The process is not as quick as one might think.
The blade struggles but reaches his sternum and stops there .
The black-nailed hands rush into the gaping wound to pull out the guts.
The freshly pulled out organ is warm.
Purple belly's head hits the ground as it groans. His eyes blur and his body spasms.
The child turns his head almost mechanically, the intestines like long grayish necklaces still between his fingers to look at Pony a few meters away.
She just woke up and the scream she let escape from her lips after seeing this scene tear her throat .