Chapter Text
When Scylla and Porter's parents decided to open a business, she didn't think both families would leave them a will for it right away. She didn't think the family she had known since diapers, whose son she had dated, would turn out to be so rotten and greedy.
On the eve of Thanksgiving, Porter broke into the Rumshorn family home. In his hands was the hunting rifle his father had given him. Porter seemed unhinged, for his eyes were the epitome of madness. That night Scylla barely escaped to the second floor and hid under the bed. That night she had to hear gunshots and her mother's screams. She knew for sure that her parents were dead. And she knew for sure that she would die, too, if she didn't run away.
Scylla had no chance to say goodbye to her parents, she had no chance even to cry: it was just necessary to keep herself in check and not make unnecessary noise.
When the rumbling in the house subsided a little, the girl found a backpack and hastily threw some clothes into it. She had to leave everything she had in the house and run without a backward glance. She only had time to stuff a photo album, a notebook of her drawings, and her phone into the backpack (somehow the case held a bank card with which she could make some necessary purchases).
Rumshorn left the house through the window. She climbed down the sloping roof as far as she could and then jumped to the ground. Scylla had time to thank all the gods that her legs were intact and she was able to escape.
Catching a cab, she made it to the exit of the city. Here she found a motel, where she decided to spend the night and regain her strength. That's when she realized that paying with a card was a bad idea. When she heard the noise in the lobby and attempts to open her door, all she could do was find a heavy object and kick Porter, who had broken in. She couldn't knock him out, but it gave her a few minutes to get away. Thankfully, she hadn't disassembled her backpack and slept in her clothes-it worked to her advantage.
At the nearest ATM, the girl withdrew all her money and then threw her phone away.
All of Scylla's sleepovers were now only in hostels for the homeless, where at least they didn't ask unnecessary questions.
The brunette had no plan, she was broke and scared, but she didn't even have a chance to vent her emotions in any way - she was too tired, walking aimlessly all day long from place to place.
She didn't know whether Porter was stalking her or not, exactly until news of the girl's disappearance appeared in the newspapers and on the TV news.
All she did was cut her hair and find clothes that were much bigger than her to hide her figure. It was a plus if the clothes had a big hood to hide her face.
She couldn't sleep in hostels now - God forbid she would be identified and called by the number in the ad. That was how Scylla became a full-fledged homeless person.
She wasn't counting on anyone's help. Why would anyone help her? She didn't even try to ask because she knew the answer ahead of time.
Scylla had been wandering for almost six months. She had lost a lot of weight: bones began to stick out on her body. Food occupied all her thoughts. Ramshorn seriously thought she would go mad. The fact that she had walked from Arizona to New York amazed her. So was the fact that all her emotions remained locked away.
At a certain point, Scylla realized that people had begun to forget about her: news reports about her were less and less frequent, the newspapers had stopped publishing her picture, and it seemed possible to start life anew, except that she had lost absolutely everything, wandered into another state and had no money - they had run out two and a half months ago. Scylla had absolutely nowhere to go, and she absolutely did not know what to do.
***
The day was nearing nightfall, and there were fewer and fewer people at one of the playgrounds by the minute. Scylla decided for herself to spend the night here. There's a small house, at least it would protect her from the wind. Still, it was autumn, which was rapidly approaching the middle of the day, which meant that it was getting much colder outside.
To be honest, the girl had no idea what she was going to do in the winter. She would most likely die, as with her current body it would be as difficult as possible to survive.
When there were no people left on the grounds at all, Scylla sat down on one of the benches. She pulled a small roll out of her half tattered backpack. It was a sandwich. She had been able to buy it about a week ago, and here was the last piece now resting in her hands. Looking at it sadly, Ramshorn thought about having to scavenge through dumpsters or hang around fast-food restaurants to find food again. She hated that. But she had no choice.
After eating her ill-fated, seemingly already spoiled, sandwich, Scylla began to wrap herself more tightly in her clothes. It was cold. It was too cold for her and her pierced clothes. She was literally starting to shiver without moving.
- Hey," came a quiet, uncertain voice from behind her.
Scylla flinched and turned around. Standing in front of her was a girl in a business suit. She was not much taller than her, with blond, almost white, hair that was gathered into braids on one side. There was a rather imposing scar on her round face, which made Ramshorn want to wince once more.
- Excuse me, miss, I'll be going now," Scylla whispered automatically, and rose from the bench.
She was used to people chasing her from place to place, so she didn't resist and tried to leave as quickly as possible.
- Oh, no, no, wait," the girl says cheerfully, extending one arm slightly forward, as if to slow down the brunette.
Scylla stops in incomprehension and looks at the stranger.
- You must be hungry. Maybe I can buy you something?
This was certainly not the turn of events that Ramshorn had expected. No one had ever helped her. She was used to people hating her. She could feel it just by looking at her.
- Uh... No thanks, I'm fine," the brunette replies briskly and once again intends to leave.
- Oh, come on. I'm used to helping people. It's no big deal if you tell me what you need.
The blonde smiles sweetly at her, frankly driving her into a stupor. Okay, now she has to wake up, because this just can't happen in real life.
- I mean, I can buy you food or clothes. Do you want me to pay for a motel?
Scylla's jaw drops. She frankly pinches herself, trying to figure out how real what's happening now is. She even hears a slight and melodic chuckle from the stranger, which makes her even more confused about what's going on.
- Come on, let's go, there's a motel nearby. If you keep standing like that, you're going to freeze to death.
Scylla gets an electric shock, and in one jump she is near the girl, trying, however, to keep a certain distance: people can be unpleasant to her. Even if they choose to help her.
- I can't go to the motel," she almost whispers.
The stranger looks at her carefully, trying to figure out what is going on. But Scylla has to intervene, and there is no way she can tell the truth.
- Why not?
Ramshorn finds nothing to lie to her and all she has to do is to rely on the kindness of her stranger, hoping that she will not report Scylla anywhere.
- Because there is a man looking for me. He wants to kill me. He killed my family.
Scylla has no hope of understanding, so she lowers her gaze to the ground and just waits to see what might happen to her next. Either way, she wouldn't be able to hide forever.
- So you're the reason the New York Times has been tearing up for months? - The blonde asks in amazement.
And all Scylla has to do is nod, praying that she'll just be let go with God.
- Good. Then you can go to my place. Take a shower, eat, sleep over, and then we'll decide what to do," the blonde answers enthusiastically.
Scylla's gaze once more stops on the face of the mysterious stranger, and she looks at her again with bewilderment.
- Why are you helping me? - Scylla asks what has been on her mind all this time.
The blonde only shrugs her shoulders and smiles radiantly.
- I don't know, it's my upbringing. I was taught that everyone deserves to be treated kindly. And you do not seem to be guilty of what happened to you.
Scylla nods only imperceptibly, turning her gaze back to the girl.
- You don't know that," Scylla answers.
It's as if she's been putting her own sticks in the wheels. And she honestly didn't know why she was doing it. Probably because she didn't trust the blonde, and with good reason.
- Yeah. But I can feel it. And my gut has never let me down before.
Scylla is slow. She'd forgotten how to trust people, because her survival depended on it. Though, she was well aware of the fact that her trust had been shattered when Porter broke into their house. The poor stranger was only a victim of circumstance. So was Rumshorn herself.
- Don't worry, I won't tell anyone I saw you or know you. You have my word.
Scylla had little choice but to sleep outside, in this cold weather, or to sleep inside after she had showered and eaten. The temptation was too great, and the brunette surrenders, taking a step toward the blonde.
The girl smiles sweetly and cheerfully at Scylla, heading toward the house.
- I am Raelle.
- Scylla.