Back then.

Shortly before the change.

Vix.

The sky turned a dull grey, pierced by the last rays of the sun in warm colours. Another ten minutes and it would start raining.

The streets were half empty, lights burning behind thick windows. Voices drifted down the alleys onto the main path, only to be stifled in the shadows. Vix listened to them, following every single word she could decipher as she bobbed up and down on the bottom step of her house.

Her gaze wandered over nearby small buildings, watching the flakes of ash that had spread across the roofs and also eyeing the scowls of some people who had recently come to this village to bring a change.

She knew they were new workers toiling in the contaminated areas of the mine – close to the village – because someone had moved them to this place. Each of them had already realised the damage produced by the mines. The lake that found itself halfway up the mountain, in the middle of a half withered forest, probably greeted them in a different colour every day.

The chemicals used to extract what they all wanted had long since claimed their cost – including countless lives that hadn't withstood the toxic fumes of the water.

Others it had scarred.

Barely noticeable, Vix's gaze fell to her hands. In the grand scheme of things, she had been lucky. Yet even her mother had felt panic three years ago when her face had begun to itch under red patches. Vix remembered how often her nails had scraped across the skin and also how her flesh had been noticeably caught on fire. They had been inflammations that had burst open at some point, leaving countless tiny eyes from which Vix couldn't see. They blinked and moved, but they were blind.

Her body had become deformed. Just like the ones of almost everyone else who had stayed in this place for more than a year.

By now, she was no longer bothered by it. There were too many glimmers of hope on the horizon for that. She had just turned eighteen and if she and her mother saved a little longer, they would move to another town with normal people. Maybe there would even be someone who could take care of the eyes on her face.

Everything would get better.

Not least because her mother had once lived out there. There, in a society where people were welcomed with open arms if they shared their story.

Slowly, Vix's gaze lifted, wandering once more across the empty street. The first raindrops moistened her skin. None of the workers were in sight anymore and when she looked at the clock hanging on an enormous tower in the middle of the village, the evening hour was glaring at her.

Six o'clock also meant that her mother would be home from cooking duty in an hour. The workers would be taken care of and the work would end around ten. Then the world around her would sink into silence until the first figures scurried out of the houses again around seven in the morning to bring breakfast to the workers.

With a sigh, Vix stretched her legs and breathed the cool, damp air. It was nicer to listen to the whisper of the shadows and the scattered drops than to sit alone in one's own four walls and wait for the loneliness to fade away. Laying her head back, she wrapped a strand of her long, black hair around a finger.

“They will pass...”

Instantly, Vix's attention turned forward again. Her shoulder cracked from the jerk and the thick grey jumper hugged tighter against her slender body. Throbbing spread under her chest, clinging to her senses as she looked around. It was the first time she had heard a voice from the shadows so clearly in her head.

She swallowed.

Perhaps this too was a mutation thing. Something that only came with time, if a person perished in this place long enough.

“Come,” she was urged a breath later. “Save her.”

Briefly, Vix folded her hands in her lap, clenching them tightly before looking at the clock. Half an hour more and her mother would be home. Thirty more minutes and she would be able to seek the advice of an adult much wiser than herself.

But the shaking of her shoulders brought her to her feet. The pounding of her heart encouraged restlessness, clung to her nerves and bit into her perception. She hadn't been told where to go, but part of her knew she should follow the slope – up to the mines and drains they had left behind.

Her legs didn't move. Instead, she kept her eyes fixed firmly on the clock. The hands were slow to stir.

“Save her!”

The demand circled through her skull like a scream, throbbing in her temples and making Vix groan. Her hands went to her head as she crouched down and took a few breaths.

She had to go. It was important. The only message she understood behind all this.

So Vix picked herself up again. At the latest, when the throbbing subsided, she started moving, letting stiff limbs carry her off the property and into the street. The cool air stung her lungs all at once and the lights, which had seemed so bright before, offered only a dull glow. The drizzle drew thin trails across her face.

The tap of her feet bounced along the concrete walls of the ramshackle houses. Her shadow stretched far into the alleys. It grew with every corner it took in.

Vix's breath rushed faster across her lips as she double-took the few steps up to the slope before slipping on the soft forest path. Even after all these years, the ground had still not hardened.

With difficulty, Vix kept on her feet, staggering for a few feet before regaining her balance. Only then did she cast a glance over her shoulder, back to the clock, which, far away, had passed the next full hour. Soon, the first workers from the cooking duty would arrive. If she wanted to follow the voice, she had to hurry.

When her vision turned forward again, it was unsteady darkness that embraced her. The sun had finally set, taking the last rays with it, and the small light cones that had been set up at the edge of the path only flickered dimly.

The next shift would fill them up.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Again, Vix set herself in motion. The steep slope up wore into her thighs, making each step more strenuous than the one before. Her breathing became heavier, warmer, and the tugging in her chest threatened to tear her apart inside.

Exertion like this was unusual. Normally, she spent her days on the steps of her home, not wanting to bother anyone. Even the mutants of the village couldn't look her in the face without feeling discomfort. Vix knew that. It was the only reason she had kept a low profile, simply trying not to attract attention besides household and other trivial matters.

Walking up the forest path, between half withered bushes and rotten trees, was completely alien. It was an experience. New and refreshing as the wind bit at her skin, the rain slowly increased, and her senses forgot why she had started the walk in the first place.

But certainty returned as she climbed over the pointed leaves of a still intact bush and discovered the shimmering glow of the lake, shining as yellow as the sun. Its brightness bathed the surroundings in a ghostly graveyard, its bottom covered by thick fog.

It was impossible to count on one's hands how many people had died in this place, but they had all seen this lake. They had seen it before they collapsed in front of it. Always the workers first. Sometimes visitors. And when the wind carried the poison all the way to the village, even the youngest among them believed it was this lake that they would see last when their organs decomposed and a mutation failed.

“Don't think about it.” Again, the voice settled gently on Vix's senses. “Forget it.”

Repressing the circumstances was easier said than done, but it was also all she had left. The bright yellow of the lake, however, continued to draw her in, making her take tiny steps closer. Part of her believed she could find an answer in all this. The rest made her shoulders so rigid that they could hardly be moved.

The soles of her worn-out sneakers slid up to the edge of the water. The earthy ground stuck muddy to each of her steps, holding her back a little each time.

But before Vix could lean over the water, hoping to find a reason for her coming, a sharp cry snapped her out of her observation. Instantly she turned away from the lake, letting her attention wander up to the mine that lay close, carrying almost every sound like an echo through the surrounding forest.

The throbbing in her chest resumed. In her mind, the voice's statement repeated itself. She was supposed to save someone.

Slowly her legs moved, leaving the lake hesitantly behind her before haste seized her nerves and she took off running. The exhaustion settled in her bones, eating away at her perception as well as her senses. For a moment, it seemed impossible to think clearly.

Rotten bushes chased past her. Hollow tree stumps formed abstract shapes in the dim glow of set-up lamps. Branches cracked under her soles. She could probably be heard all over the mountain, and yet her panting seemed louder than anything else.

The roaring in her ears made it difficult to perceive more than was necessary and it was only when her body winced and she fell to her knees out of reflex that Vix gained a vague overview.

The breath was still heavy on her lips, but could be halfway controlled. Added to this, the murmur of voices from a few workers masked any rustling that her movements caused.

“What else are we going to do, huh? Allow that ugly brat to put us behind bars?” A man as wide as a closet held a small, whimpering girl by the hair. Her small hands tried to loosen his fingers, but they didn't give way one bit.

“She's a child. The idiots were something else, but ... no one would believe her, anyway.” Sighing, a woman with antlers braced spider-thin hands at her sides. “Isn't it enough that we killed the resistance? Blowing up this fucking shithole here is now no obstacle.”

“I'm with Resus,” contributed a worn-out, bespectacled face. “If the kid says anything, they'll look closer at this place and in the end, they'll figure out we blew up the mine to put an end to this madness.”

“You're really on the gorilla's side?” the woman inquired. Her face was hard to make out in the poor light, but the sparkle of her eyes made Vix wince. “Fine. If you want to kill a six-year-old brat, I'll leave that fully in your ... apish paws.” She shrugged. “It's enough that the new workers think they can boss the not-so-pretty of us around like we're wild creatures.”

“The world will welcome us when this goes public. They've done a good job of covering us up so far, but they'll see.” Without further ado, the scrawny one shifted his glasses. “Take care of it, Resus.”

The burly one of them merely nodded as the other two turned away and went about their own plans. Vix watched them go for a moment as the girl's helpless sounds welled up again. Her voice seemed too weak to cry out another time, and at the latest, when her head was forcibly pushed into a bucket of water, her sounds were almost completely suffocated.

For seconds, Vix simply watched. Her legs trembled. Her fingers had buried themselves in the ground. She could do nothing. Didn't want to do anything. They all seemed too dangerous for that.

But the voice had asked her to.

And this girl was only six.

So Vix struggled to her feet. Every hair on her body shivered, wanting to resist her insane idea, but failed when she took a deep breath. Then she ran.

The girl's body was still kicking wildly when Vix arrived. With all her might, she threw herself against the man's massive body, taking advantage of her opponent's bewilderment and stumbling with him a little to the side. His hand detached from the girl's long, white-blond hair. Her head shot up instantly and the cough that followed made Vix breathe a sigh of relief.

At least until she was grabbed and flung aside.

Backwards, she slammed into a pair of shovels that had been neatly propped against a low wall. The clang of metal as they crashed made her hold her breath. Drops of water slid sombrely through the air. Everything else faded into the background.

“Where did you ugly thing come from?” Without further ado, Resus wrinkled his nose. “You look like your mommy fucked a spider. Where are your three hundred siblings?”

Instead of answering, Vix jumped up. Resus's attitude, his belittling words, everything about him made him careless, and it was enough to make her grab a shovel and lunge out. Swinging, she smashed the tool sideways at the man, the handle firmly in her hands. Still, it tore her skin open as she struck Resus's thick forearm and the resistance coursed through to her nerves – the wood splintering between her fingers.

Her pathetic attempt elicited no more than a hiss that stopped him to glance at the point of impact. Another moment Vix took advantage of.

As fast as she could, she stormed off. Her shoes slipped once on the now slippery ground, the rain pelted down, and her soundless squeals made her muscles twitch. The fright spurred her on, carried her straight past Resus to the little girl who was still sitting in front of the bucket, shivering and gasping for breath. Mindlessly, she grabbed the child by the arm, yanked her to her feet and forced her to follow. Only a few steps before the man's roar reached her and she half-stumblingly dragged the girl onto her back.

Piggybacking the little girl, she ran.

Vix's body weakened under the effort, under the weight of another. Her legs sagged repeatedly, her breath tore at her lungs and the sweat that spread on her within seconds made her skin sticky. Simultaneously, she heard heavy footsteps behind her. She was being followed and even if Resus wasn't the fastest, he was nimble enough not to be outrun.

The only advantage Vix had were the withered bushes and the pattering rain, which muffled her sounds. She could hide behind some trees, gasp for air, and when she spotted a half-intact bush, she dropped behind it.

The girl slipped off her shoulders, so Vix pushed her in front of her and put one hand over her mouth to be safe. Then she looked out for the man's massive figure. His shadow stretched through the trees, but grew smaller.

Only slowly did Vix's hand slip from the child's face, while she herself let the breath she had been holding slip audibly over her lips, panting.

“Th-thank you...” Wide round eyes locked on Vix. Dark as night, they stood in sharp contrast to the flowing light hair.

“No problem...”

Unabashed, the girl wiped her nose with a sleeve of her green and yellow ringed jumper before sobbing. Her fragile facade collapsed like a house of cards as the first tears rolled down her cheeks and her shoulders shook like aspen leaves.

Indecisive, Vix put an arm around the tiny figure she had saved. “Hey, everything's going to be all right. I'm going to take you to your mother and-“

“Mum's not here anymore!” the child interrupted her. Her sobs became suddenly so loud that Vix let her eyes dart around in alert.

“You need to be quieter,” she admonished a moment later. “Did they do something to your mother?”

The girl shook herself. “Mum's been gone a long time.”

“And your father?”

The temporary silence between them burned. The girl's sobbing had paused. It took time for her to shake her head. “Papa was ... resisting.”