11. Arlo #2
“Sssstop calling me a monsssster,” she hisses, stepping forward like she’s going to attack, but then she quickly forces herself to retreat. So she does have some control over herself and doesn’t mindlessly want to eat everyone all the time. Good to note. “This is just my tongue.”
The more she talks, the more she practices, the less she hisses. Another good note. Although, I’m not exactly opposed to the hissing when I know what she can do with that tongue.
“What are you, Karma?” I pose the question much nicer than Micha, because whilst she’s right—he is very rude—I’m also curious.
“I’m jussst…” She opens her palms and looks down, as though to assess herself. The material of her black skin-tight jumpsuit loosens around her wrists and ankles, and it reveals more light blue flesh and stitching. “Me. I wasss made like this. Kreo likes giving animals different tonguesss.”
“Kreo?” I ask, and she nods.
“My maker.”
“You were actually made?” Micha blurts. “Like in a lab?”
“In a tent. At the circusss,” she replies. “I shouldn’t be telling you thisss. Kreo won’t like it. But I can’t help how I speak. Snake tonguesss are hard to use.”
I don’t like the sound of this ‘Kreo’ guy. And I can’t quite come to terms with how she was made.
Before I can ask another question, a rat scurries across the ground, jumping and hooking onto Karma’s leg.
I jerk back, watching as it climbs up her body, but Karma smiles wider and lets it onto her shoulder.
It turns to us with great big white eyes that look close to popping out of its skull, and it sits back on its hind legs.
But they’re white and long and scrawny like…
“Chicken legs?”
“Ssssh,” Karma whispers. “Sssnake doesn’t like to talk about it.”
Micha looks like he’s either going to hysterically laugh or turn and walk away, still utterly bewildered. “That’s not a snake,” he exclaims. “That’s a chicken-rat or something.”
I swear, the thing’s bulging white eyes narrow on Micha, like he can understand him and doesn’t appreciate what he has to say.
Then the little creature looks to Karma.
Its snake tongue sticks out to softly hiss at her, and she does the same, the tip of their tongues nearly touching like some secret handshake.
That explains why her pet rat is called Snake.
When I turn to Micha, I burst out laughing. His expression is a mix of shock, disgust, and fear all in one, and he’s stumbled back a few steps. This big, scary security guard can’t handle seeing a couple of stitched-together creatures.
I’m weirdly amused. When I turn back to the pair and smile, Snake impressively jumps from Karma’s shoulder to mine, his chicken claws digging into my shirt. The top of his head nuzzles into my neck, and I think Micha is three seconds away from a heart attack.
“He likesss you.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” Micha splutters, and Snake narrows his eyes on the brute, who pointedly narrows his eyes back. “I’m watching you, rat. And you, Stitches. I don’t trust your smile. Can you stop smiling for a second?”
“Micha,” I spit, tired of this attitude. Just because she’s made it clear that she’s not here to hurt us doesn’t mean he needs to be so nasty to her. He might not be scared, but he’s uncomfortable and lacks trust, which he’s taking out on her.
“No, I can’t. It’s sssstiched,” Karma snaps, and Snake promptly jumps back onto her shoulder. “Why are you still being rude? I ssssaid I wouldn’t eat you two right now.”
“Right now,” he repeats, stepping closer to shield me. “You could change your mind at any point.”
“Then why did you let me sssuck your boyfriend’s cock? I could sssmell your arousal too, Micha.”
“Well, yeah, it was hot. And he’s not my boyfriend,” he answers quickly, and my heart cracks.
“No, you’ve made that perfectly clear,” I mutter.
“So are you my boyfriend?” he asks. “I never asked you, and you never asked me.”
I wave him off. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” Besides, if I were to magically become Micha’s boyfriend, do I have to stop liking Karma? Micha is possessive, territorial, jealous. How would he cope with that? “You don’t need to be nasty to her. She’s clearly chilled out now.”
“She said she doesn’t want to eat us as much as anyone else, Arlo.”
I shrug, taking a step away from him and towards Karma. “I trust her.”
Karma’s stitches pull as she smiles wider.
“Trussst me?” I nod and open my arms. She frowns. “What are you doing?”
“Waiting for you to accept my hug.”
Her green eyes widen in surprise, like a hug is such an abhorrent thing for anyone to want from her. She tentatively leans into my embrace but doesn’t wrap her arms back around me. That’s okay; I do the hugging for the both of us, squeezing her against my chest.
“See? That’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Yes. I can feel your heartbeat. You are the only perssson to feel calm around me, Arlo.”
“You’re not so scary when your teeth aren’t bared, Karma.”
She pulls away quickly, like she’s not sure what to do now. “I have to get back to the circus. Ssspiral will be wondering where I am.”
“The clown you were hiding from? Are you safe around him?”
Bells jingle as she nods, and I finally understand where they’re coming from—her hair. In the pink balls that clamp the big green and pink pigtails together at the ends.
“Ssspiral can’t kill me. No one can. Not even your sssoul guardian.”
Micha groans. “I’m not a soul guardian. I’m a security guard.”
“Tomato, potato.” I wave him off. “Will you come and see us again, Karma?”
She looks behind her, deeper into the alleyway, and I notice her ear twitch like she’s heard something. “Yesss, I will. But someone’s coming. I have to go now. Come on, Ssssnake.”
Karma and Snake are off in a flash, leaving me and Micha dumbfounded.
“That was strange.”
“Do you have to be so horrible to her?” I ask, marching off back to the apartment.
“I’m sorry, but she’s—”
“A monster? She’s different. But I like her. And I want you to give her a chance.”
He chews his bottom lip, looking down at me like he’ll find the answers in my eyes.
“Fine. But if she tries to eat either of us again, it’s off. Got it?”
I smile and pat his cheek. “Got it, Soul Guardian.”