We could not pretend to trade, that would be exceptionally dishonest and break the white flag code of the Execution Battle and so we needed another distraction.
My best friend walked in a sluggish manner, shirtless and crying, direct to the cannibals’ front door. I had drawn on his stomach the regions of organs that were most delectable if he were a cow or sheep, hoping this might appeal to them and forgo looking elsewhere outside, specifically the ladder along the side of the building which I climbed swiftly.
The panty snatcher was captured by cannibal hands, the evidence of this came from his excessive wailing and eventual screaming. Thanks to his distraction I was able to scout over the building top and to their chimney. It was not yet lit and down below a stew—I did not want to think what was inside—was cooling off. I undid the lids on all the rat poison bottles Dig Graves had stashed in his shelves and tipped all six down the chimney and into the stew.
I waited.
Evening skipped around and the cannibals ate. I yawned and watched them heave over with excessive vomiting. Three fainted. I hoped they were not dead. Perhaps just sleeping. I crossed my fingers.
I strode in through their front door, gasping as one of them toppled over next to me as I entered, grabbing at their throat, their eyes going red.
“Hello.” I waved to him. “Lovely night tonight, how are you all doing?”
He fell to the ground, wheezing, stretching out his hand to me.
I got to work searching for keys but found none and considered it best if I did this quickly and used a blade to hack at the lock on Tommy’s cage.
He had crawled into the corner of it like a beaten dog. His eyes hanging from his head, his lips bitten and chapped from dehydration.
“What are you doing?” He shook, curling into himself. “Are you a cannibal now?”
“I’m setting you free.”
“Delphine!” Fiona called with glee from her cage next to his. She held the bars with her little incest hands. “You came to save us?”
“Of course, darling. I’m a good person.” I pitched her a knife and she got to toiling on her own lock.
Much better than me, she set herself free within seconds while I was still salaried on Tommy’s. She was about to hug me, when I pushed her.
“Get Tommy out of here,” I said. “Quick. I don’t know how many cannibals there are and how many are actually poisoned.”
I stood up and searched for the door where I had seen them take the panty snatcher.
“Where are you going?” Fiona grabbed my sleeve.
“I have to find my best friend.”
“The only one back there is the panty snatcher.”
“Perfect!”
Her and Tommy fled after promising to meet up in the suburbs and I stalked into the back room, holding out my blade.
The panty snatcher laid on a table, his ankles and wrists bound, and he concluded his sobbing when he saw me enter. A woman hovered at his side, holding a dagger about to sacrifice him for her cannibal stomach.
Fuelled with only instinct, I swung first, stabbing my knife into her side.
She let out a shriek, the blade in her hands clattered on the floor, blood gushed from her wound. A main artery.
“Oh freckles!” I gasped as she fell.
I had not meant to severely harm her. It had only been instinct to stab her, to save the panty snatcher. I was a good person. I did not kill. I was a good person.
My knees decked to the ground, and I slapped my hands over her wound. “Please don’t die! Please don’t die!”
She gurgled out something.
“Come on.” I flicked her cheeks. “You’re not dying. You’re just sleeping. Just sleeping. Go to sleep. Shh. Go to sleep. Hush now. Sleepy, sleep.”
