Hunger
X
Anne pushed the gas station door open. A bell jingled, sending a bolt of adrenaline shooting through her veins. Silence and full shelves pulled her further into the shop. Her stomach growled, loud in the stillness. She hadn't eaten in so long that she'd moved beyond pain in her stomach to a bone deep emptiness. She'd gone past hunger and out the other side to something deeper and more demanding.
Cellophane crinkled and she shoved a snake cake into her mouth. She hardly tasted it before swallowing and stuffing another one into her mouth. She didn't need to taste it, it was the best thing she'd ever eaten.
A long squeak shot through the air, the sound of metal scraping along metal. Anne ducked down behind the shelving and scurried backwards to the closest corner, the sound of her panting breath loud in her ears.
Soft steps lurched across the floor. She wrapped her arms around her legs. She needed to be small, invisible, to not be there.
A man appeared above her between one rapid heartbeat and the next. His face was flushed and his tattered shirt was covered in filth.
He leaned over her. “Hey there, little girl,” he puffed out on a foul breath. He reached down and pulled her to her feet, grip hard and bruising on her arm. He grabbed her hair with his other hand and yanked her head back, the pull bringing tears to her eyes. “You gonna pay for what you took?”
She kicked him, hard, in his shin and he yelled. He tossed her sideways. Her head hit the cashier's counter and she gasped as she fell, spots swimming in front of her eyes.
“You'll pay for that , too,” the man snarled. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her across the floor. Her fingers scrabbled across the dirty linoleum for a hold, a respite, anything. He flung her over and her hand swung out and away, fingertips glancing on something smooth and round hidden snug under the register. She grabbed at it, desperate, and swung.
The bat whistled through the air and hit the side of the man's head with a meaty thump. She hit again without thinking, reflex, and kicked out, catching him in the jaw as he folded at the waist. He fell over, hand grabbing the side of his head, and moaned.
Anne surged to her feet and hit him again and again and again until the moaning stopped, until all she could hear was her own harsh breath and the dull thud of the bat.
She stumbled backwards, away from the thing that had once been a man. She looked down at the blood spattered over her shirt, felt it sticky and warm on her hands.
What had she done?