It's about time I do one of these. So I've decided to post some MAAH. Here goes!
This is a flashback scene to when Emil was seven.
. . .
“One side makes you larger,” said the man, “and one
side makes you small.”
Emil looked up at the mushroom, giant and bright
purple and towering over his small form. His blond hair was tangled and filthy,
a mixture of sweat and dirt and blood ratting it up. He didn’t look at the
man—wouldn’t look at him.
“Wh-what?” he asked, his voice shaking. He kept his
eyes firmly on the mushroom.
“Which side do you choose?”
Emil’s bare feet curled up around the long blades of
grass. A whimper escaped his throat.
“Oh, don’t be like that, Emil,” said the man, his
velvety voice clear and smooth and deceivingly warm, wrapping itself around
Emil’s head, ringing in his ears. “Think about it. Don’t tell me you’re a
stupid boy, as well.”
Emil’s lips quivered.
“Bigger. Smaller.” The man stepped a little closer
from behind. Emil could feel the heat radiating from his body, standing out
among the freezing cold air.
Emil locked his muscles, refused to shiver, refused to
move, refused to give any sign of acknowledgment.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Deaf and dumb, it seems.”
There was a sound of movement, and when the man spoke again, his voice was
right in Emil’s ear.
“One side lets you live,” it said, low and dangerous.
“And one side lets you die.”
Emil’s breath caught in his throat.
“So which do you choose?” asked the man.
Emil clenched his eyes shut, blocking out the scent of
blood and salt and fear and death. “I’m not hungry,” he said.
“Oh, that’s sweet,” said the man. “You’re not hungry.”
Emil felt the man’s body move away from his, and he
relaxed.
A second later, rough hands were on his shoulders,
throwing him to the cold, wet ground.
“WHICH SIDE DO YOU CHOOSE?”
Emil was frozen for what seemed like forever. Then,
slowly, each motion difficult, he pulled himself to his feet, walked toward the
mushroom, and stood on his toes. He ripped a tiny piece with yellow spots off the
right side and, making sure he didn’t hesitate, bit into it.
He heard a heavy sigh from behind him, and, like
magic, the air began to warm around him, soothing and comforting. “You chose
the good side,” said the man. “Ah, well. All the better. I’ll get to kill you
myself.”
As soon as the man’s footsteps had faded, Emil threw
up, blood and purple mushroom spewing onto the grass at his feet. He rocked
back and forth, breathing deeply, running his nails up and down his left
forearm, up and down, up and down.
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