Monsters

mmm…”

A sound, barely there.

A whisper trying to remember how to be a voice.

“Maa… ya…”

It grew rough, animal, unfinished.

Maya’s eyes snapped open.

For a moment she was lost between sleep and waking, her heart racing, hands trembling as the dream clung to her skin like sweat. Then she turned her head.

Alice was there.

The kitten lay curled beside her, tail tucked close, breathing softly. Alive. Warm.

Maya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She smiled, not from happiness, but from relief. From the simple fact that she wasn’t alone anymore.

She pulled the kitten closer, pressing her forehead against the small, fragile body, and let sleep take her again.

A week passed.

In that week, the D3 asteroid fell in Haryana. This area felt nothing.

No tremors. No sirens. No headlines worth remembering.

Life continued in the slum the way it always had.

Maya and Alice slept together.

Scavenged together.

Shared whatever food Maya manage to bring home.

Once, while watching Alice stumble around the hut, Maya laughed and said, “Let’s play a game.”

Alice stared up at her, ears twitching.

“It’s called red light, green light,” Maya said, scratching her head. “Though… yeah, this might be impossible.”

It wasn’t.

Slowly, Alice learned.

She moved when Maya turned away.

She froze the moment Maya looked back.

Soon, it became Alice’s favorite game.

One day Maya left for collecting plastic bottle after playing with Alice.

That evening, Maya returned with her sack half full.

“Alice?” she called.

No answer.

The hut was empty.

Her chest tightened. Alice was never quiet like this.

She dropped the sack and stepped behind the shack.

And saw him.

A tall man stood there, broad-shouldered, dressed in black combat gear with crimson red eyes. A bright yellow band around his arm. On it, the number 28.

Alice hung limply in his hand.

She wasn’t moving.

“Oh. A kid,” the man said casually, speaking into a transmitter. “Didn’t notice you.”

Maya’s fingers closed around the rusted knife she carried for protection.

“I’m just collecting samples,” he continued, glancing at her. “Relax. And put the knife down.”

“You’ll kill her,” Maya shouted, her voice cracking.

He tilted his head. “Maybe.”

Maya snapped.

She screamed and charged.

The man smiled.

He kicked her.

The impact crushed the air from her lungs. She flew backward, slamming into the shack. Pain exploded through her body. Blood sprayed from her mouth as she hit the ground.

Still, she tried to rise.

“Alice… Alice…” she whispered, dragging herself forward.

The man stepped closer and kicked the knife away.

“Hey,” he said lightly. “You attacked me first. Now you’re making me look like the bad guy.”

Maya sobbed.

He stomped on her right hand.

The sound was wet. Wrong.

She screamed as her fingers shattered beneath his boot.

“No one’s coming,” he said calmly. “Cry all you want.”

He paused.

“I’ll let you both go,” he continued. “If you make me bleed.”

Maya didn’t think.

With her left hand, she grabbed a broken piece of iron from the ground and drove it into his leg.

He laughed.

“Good,” he said, genuinely pleased. “That’s what I wanted.”

He tossed Alice toward her.

“Run. Pickup team’s on the way. Everyone in RED isn’t as generous as Vasu.”

Maya clutched Alice to her chest and ran in desperation her body was shivering.

A gunshot echoed behind her.

Vasu winced. “Oh, come on.”

He tapped his transmitter. “Number 27. I don’t remember telling you to fire.”

“Can’t leave witnesses,” came the reply. “Not everyone’s naive like you.”

“At least let the kitten live,” Vasu said.

A pause.

“…Fine.”

Maya hit the ground.

Her small body twitched once.

Then stopped.

Her heart gave out the instant the bullet passed through her.

They say animals don’t feel emotions.

That night, they were wrong.

The kitten lay there, body broken, breath gone, and cried.

Soundless at first. Then shaking. Then louder.

“Mmm… mmm…”

A whisper clawing its way back into the world.

“Maa……..........yaaaaaahhhhh—”

The sound twisted.

Stretched.

Became something else.

A whisper turned into a growl.

         —END OF THE CHAPTER—