Enter the Vulture Child
General Summary
Kory, the vulture child of Maplehood. The savage cannibals of this district litter the landscape with corpses full of interesting knickknacks for Kory to find, and anything that doesn’t catch her eye she simply eats. Trailing a hungry brute and swooping in after it finishes feasting is her preferred method of foraging, with a high success rate to boot. Why, then, were those same cannibals she so often takes advantage of carrying her by her wrists to a holding cell? How was she caught? She can’t tell, her mind is as cloudy as her eyes are with tears. Kory thrashes in a feeble attempt to escape her captors and fruitlessly swings her legs in every direction. Her flailing is accompanied by a sustained shriek echoing down the long hall, which leads to a cage.
She lands on the ground with a thud, chained to the wall by her kidnappers before she can react. She pushes herself up from the ground and rises to her feet to find that she is not alone in the cell. An elderly man, a beefy middle-aged guy, a somewhat thin fellow, and another man who looks to be the scrawny one’s companion. She comes to find out they are Spicket Andes, Ogma, Gregory Navarro, and Ricky, respectively. She tries to keep track of who is who, but gives up after a little while (she was never any good at remembering names...not that she has to remember them often, or for very long). All of them, including Kory, have tubes protruding from an arm. Crimson blood flows through it and away from the prisoners.
All of a sudden, Kory becomes aware of an intense hunger at the pit of her stomach. She realizes she can’t remember the last time she ate, but then again she was always hungry anyways. She licks her lips before going to work on the chain holding her in place, disregarding the surprised muses of her cellmates. The familiar taste of metal and that kick of rust (which really makes the whole meal, in Kory’s opinion) envelop her taste buds, demanding the full attention of all her senses. She takes one final, satisfying bite of her shackle and splits it in two, just in time to realize that the commotion of the other captives has drawn the attention of a guard.
Kory hastily retreats into a dark corner, hoping to avoid her jailer’s gaze. Her eyes follow the cannibal as he approaches the more muscular man, shotgun in hand. She watches his finger, pierced by a metal nail, come dangerously close to the trigger. “Wait, don’t shoot!” the thinner man swiftly pleads. He goes on about something called Flesh Juice, a cannibal delicacy Kory has heard sparse rumors about, and why the cannibals need the brawny man alive to make it. The sentry, clearly dissatisfied but convinced, withdraws and nearly exits the cell before spotting the girl tucked away in the shadows.
His head whips around, his glare digging into Kory. “What ‘appened to your chain?” he roars. Kory tries to play it off. “It’s not broken!” she says somewhat sheepishly, but it’s too late. She’s already been caught. There’s no use running, he’s blocking her way out. She needs to do something, and fast. As the sentry extends a greasy hand toward her, she hastily looks him up and down. Now that he’s close, she can see the tattoo running down the side of his face, the ring of dried blood on his fingers where the nail enters and exists.
Her appearance rapidly shifts to emulate his. Her white hair turned a jet black, an intricate tattoo make its way down her face as though it were dripping over her cheek, and her face looked sharper. “Leave me alone man, I’m one of you,” she asserts in a voice only marginally deeper than before. The guard is taken aback and shouts obscenities, but unfortunately her disguise isn’t enough to fool him. “I don’t know what the hell I jus’ saw, but there ain’t no way you’re one of us. What would we do with a kid like yous, huh?”
A rattle of chains behind the cannibal draws his attention away from Kory. The scrawny man that had talked him down from before had pulled a hidden weapon from his clothes but made too much noise, giving himself away. With a cry of anger the monster raises his weapon again and blows the prisoner’s knee into bits and pieces with one shot. It’s hard to tell who is more concerned, the captive’s friend who immediately rushes to his side, or the man bellowing in agonizing pain on the dusty chamber floor.
The Nail Finger, content with his deed, returns to Kory and finally clasps what is left of Kory’s chain in his grisly palm. He hangs it on a hook on the wall, leaving Kory dangling. “Get me down from here man!” Kory hollers after him as he leaves, still using her fake voice. She gives up as he becomes out of sight, changing back to her original appearance in defeat. To pass the time, Kory watches the others try to patch up who they all referred to as Greg (she was awful with names, though, so she didn’t bother trying to remember it). In the end, the chains are too much for the other prisoners and they only hurt themselves more in their attempts.
A clatter at the door prompts Kory to assumer Nail Finger appearance again in anticipation of a second chance to convince her holders to release her. The cannibal from before enters, this time lead by a female Nail Finger. Her eyes were her most striking feature, lined with slightly less corroded nails than the ones in her fingers. “Let’s get that link fixed, shall we?” Her voice is almost eloquent, but hides notes of a deeper coldness. Unable to move and clearly out of luck, Kory is hoisted from her hook and can only observe as her chain is mended. Obviously her disguise didn’t work on this cannibal either, to Kory’s dismay.
The lady cannibal moves on to the prisoner who was shot earlier. His leg looks as though it is merely attached by a string. Bone is exposed and the wound continue to drip red. With a sigh, she lowers herself to one knee and wraps the injury. “Look what you’ve done to our guest, Skaggs.” Her tone starts sweet but continues to crescendo with each word. “We went through all of that trouble to bring him here, and you nearly kill him!” For once, the guard is the one who appears terrified. His response was barely a mumble, “Sorry, Mama Screw-Toes.”
An idea suddenly formulates in Kory’s mind. “Momma,” she whispers to herself under her breath. She waits patiently as the female Nail Finger tries to administer morphine to her “guest”, only to be refused. After ensuring that the man was okay without the medicine, she sees herself out with her subordinate in hot pursuit.
This is her window of opportunity. She calms herself, slowing her breathing to an even pace, looks up to the ceiling, squeezes her eyelids tight...and lets out a cry. “Momma!” She releases all of the tension in her body, and finds herself in that familiar place again. She usually only comes here when she’s lonely and on cold nights. Visiting Momma can be unpredictable at times, so she usually saves trips like this for when she craves company. This time, Momma has a nice leather rocking chair ready for her in front of a black and white television. At least, that’s what Momma says they are.
On the screen she sees the room that she was previously being contained in, her shackle she occupied just moments before now empty. She stares for a long time, viewing the other cellmates as they plan to escape. Part of the malfunctions for a bit, but whatever is going on behind it yet again attracts their guard. As she watches him enter the room, the world around her begins to melt. Falling, falling, falling, and then something breaks her fall. Or, rather, the cannibal did. The group snatches the keys and free one another.
Almost to freedom, more guards come barreling down the hall to prevent their escape. The stocky man makes it with the keys to the room where his and the others’ weapons and equipment were, including Kory’s backpack. Before she can draw a weapon though, a cannibal scrambles for her with meat hooks, solidly sticking them in her arms. She retaliates with a swift kick to his family jewels before they both collapse to the ground in anguish. Her ears are full of the sounds of battle, gunfire and the yells of Nail Fingers being mowed down by her now companions being the most prominent. After that, the rest is somewhat a blur to her - her attacker’s head explodes just inches away, someone dresses her wounds, a dash to the outside world to what appears to be a garage, and then the growling of an engine as the ragtag group “borrows” a vehicle and high-tails it to who knows where.
