u/Funky_Dancing_Gnome

Today, Matilda came to me to ask for my help. They offered me something I pine for: freshly baked bread. The request? To save their mother from illness. Of course I would say yes, but of course I do not know if it will work.

If it works and they turned to me in desperation, would they return to thank me? I am not sure. If it failed to save her, might they never return due to grief or perhaps anger? I am not sure.

However, sometimes there are those who return. Sir Jackson McCarthy, he came back; in fact, he came back often. ‘I aspire to be rich’. A selfish but understandable goal, and one I felt apathetic to. It worked. This could easily have been from his own hard work. Honestly, I doubt it was me.

I’ll never forget when Elizabeth came back. The poor girl was drenched. Did I deserve it? To be struck, berated, and cursed at? No, not really, but I hope it helped her. Her wish? She wanted her son to get better, help the world. He never got better. The hounds, however, were regrettably helped. To whom was their wish made? I’m not sure it matters.

It is not often a group arrives to request help and, to be honest, I do not lament that.

Gerald and Carol Winters came and asked for help to conceive. It was heartwarming when they returned not even a year later. A gift of baby Tanya’s first lock of hair.

They were a rarity, though.

Many years ago, when my place of rest was kept well, the Cullin clan had come asking for a healthy harvest. Three goats, a cow, and a bundle of wheat were offered. I wanted for the harvest to be bountiful, but it was not to be. Stricken by madness, they returned the year after, seeking forgiveness and promising ‌a fitting offer. A single goat—the rest had perished—and a calf whose mother I could hear in the distance. The chief’s daughter, who trembled, stood before me. Unfortunately, the harvest was markedly better than the year before.

Over the next years, I saw goat after goat, calf after calf, and ever younger daughters be brought forth. With time, the land grew barren. Offerings dwindled. Resentment flourished. Before long, I was alone once more. Perhaps it was for the best, I thought.

Eventually, it became impossible to see the hills before me. Vines, leaves, branches, and decay obscured my world. Cold and warmth cycled dutifully forward. Each day returned a little darker than the last.

That was until a young man stumbled upon me: Gerald. He mended my view, tended to my weathered form, and I willed it to be that some day he would find happiness.

Carol, in time, joined him. Tanya too. For a brief moment, I felt at peace. Alas, time is cruel and takes them from this world. What replaced them was an abundance of greed, passion, and uncertainty.

Now, after a long, strange existence, it appears that the place I call mine is to be taken. Were these consequences a result of my actions? I’m not sure. All I know is that the hills have been taken, and though I have never seen so many people these past years, I have never felt so alone.

For the first time, I will simply not be here, waiting for news. I hope Matilda returns with positive news. I will at least have the peace of that.

FILE REF: HN-RT-001

DATE: 22-06-2019

SANCTIONED BY: Ancillus

OBJECTIVE: Provide Hanna with a Renewed Sense of Purpose

OUTLINE: As it comes to 210 days since the passing of Hemlock and Hanna’s interactions with the body, her sense of purpose has deflated. Previous remedies have had no impact on her state. To reinvigorate her drive, a mission is to be assigned. Alongside this, new audio and visual technology is to be deployed to allow greater insight into her actions. A contract has been established with Hanna: She will be granted authority to attain a partner. While there was never a restriction on this, the request made by Hanna was granted. A noted preference towards infiltration has pointed towards the target, though alignment with facility goals is only tangential at best. It was still concluded as an optimal direction to pursue.

MISSION OUTLINE: A rival chain, ‘Tits for That’, claims to possess a high proportion of naturally produced units. The veracity of the claims is to be determined. The chain is to be encouraged to cease operations. Hanna is to be given discretion as to how the operation is completed.

RESULTS: While the chain’s claims were successfully confirmed, the sophistication of the production is of concern. However, there is no known research remaining. The chain has ceased all operations. No known leadership remains active. Hanna’s mental state has shifted from reclusive and emotionally drained. That said, the current mental state is markedly less conducive to operational efficiency. As of right now, Hanna’s location is unknown.

Audio, video, and report data follows:

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

ANCILLUS: Hanna, it would be highly bene-

HANNA: What? I SAID I’D DO IT!

ANCILLUS: I assure you, Hanna, I have no doubt of that. I believe it would be advantageous to take these with you.

[Hanna snatches the blades from Ancillus]

HANNA: Fine. Can I go now?

KARALLOS: Thank you, Hanna, for taking this on at a time like this.

HANNA: Right.

NOTE:

Hanna opted to wear an open crop leather jacket, a miniskirt, fishnet tights, and her standard boots. She kept her blades on her belt. The assumed goal was to lower the guard of those around her and emulate the typical fashion of the females in the Oran ward.

Contrary to expectations, Hanna appeared to care for the blades at the time of receiving them. They were retrieved after the conclusion of the operation:

The longer of the two blades was found impaled in the establishment’s wall. A single body, the son, was still suspended on it. Video evidence shows a bodyguard had attempted to shield the son. The force of the impact rendered the man’s torso structurally unsound.

The second, shorter blade is currently assumed layered inside Hanna’s left calf. Though she has yet to divulge the reason, it is likely a method to retain the tool.

VISUAL RECORD:

As Hanna approached the establishment, she paused to observe the exterior. The signage was well-lit, clean, and prominent. A steady stream of footfall passed the area. The heavy rain appeared to have no impact on the clientele.

The bouncer at the door halted Hanna. He wore a full, skin-tight black leather suit and stood at 6ft 4in.

“What business do you have here missy?”

Hanna held her hands together and looked up at the man. She made no attempt at diversion and instead directly stated her intentions.

“I want to see if the girls are real and ask your boss to stop.”

The man scoffed, then ruffled Hanna’s hair. He tilted his head from side to side, suddenly picked her up with his hands under her armpits and sniffed her before putting her back down.

“Let me be blunt: You’re sure you're here for purchasing and not selling? You would make rather a lot.”

Hanna laid her hands on the bouncer’s chest.

“Maybe I’ll change my mind but for now? No.”

She jumped up and kissed the man quickly on the chin.

“Can I go in?”

He looked her up and down.

“Take your top off, need to see the arms.”

Hanna shrugged and removed her top. The man grabbed at her arms, next stepped back and stroked his chin. He nodded, wrote a note in a logbook, and let Hanna enter.

NOTE:

The logbook entry from 22-06-2019 at 15:01 is as follows:

• Docile
• 4ft 11in
• Twintail
• ~35kg
• Pale skin
• Oriental eyes
• High

The “High” note was deduced as referring to the value assigned to Hanna.

It is fortuitous that Hanna has remained capable of emulating a non threatening demeanour through her interactions. Alas, the bouncer’s attire obscured his expression. It is plausible he did consider Hanna as a threat to a degree. If this is the case, it is highly probable the threat was categorised in regards to her stature and not the words used.

This further validates facility operational standards.

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

[Inside what was defined later as a processing location. It was used to match the client to the establishment wings most likely to suit]

HANNA: What do I do now then?

CLERK: Selling, is it?

[Silence]

CLERK: Buying?

HANNA: I want to talk to the boss and ask if the girls are real and to stop working.

CLERK: Buying then…

HANNA: What’s your name?

CLERK: Not important. I have questions for you first, understood?

HANNA: I will kill you.

CLERK: Question ten already answered then … question one too I suppose.

HANNA: Are you listening?

CLERK: Yep. Question two, man, lady, boy, or girl?

HANNA: Me?

CLERK: What do you like?

HANNA: I don’t care.

CLERK: Uhuh … question three, total control, mix, minimal control?

HANNA: I … I don’t fucking know!

CLERK: Daring today then I see … question four.

HANNA: Are you out of your mind? I have a job to do.

CLERK: I know, I know. Budget?

HANNA: It’s irrelevant.

CLERK: Wouldn’t know by your looks anyway … question five… any special equipment?

HANNA: I don’t have time for this!

CLERK: Blade … long… question six?

HANNA: NO! Let me through! I swear, if you ask me another question, I’m going to rip that tongue out.

CLERK: I think we’re done then. Floor D, room forty four. She will take you there now.

NOTE:

It was found that floors designated with letters descend lower (concluding at Y) and have numbered rooms, averaging 96 rooms per floor. Rooms averaged at 18m^(2). Floors that were numbered ascended and had rooms designated with letters. Each floor averaged 25 rooms across the 12 floors. Rooms were found to average 69.12m².

VISUAL RECORD:

Once inside the room, Hanna was greeted by a well-furnished room. A plush sofa, a sizable bed with multiple pillows, and an assortment of boxes, ropes, and anchor points. On the sofa sat a tall, well-built man with sandy, shoulder-length hair. A woman lay in the bed.

“I thought we had some time before the next shift?”

The woman who led Hanna notified the couple in the room they were assigned and were to provide. She locked the door shut, leaving the three inside the room. The man stood up; his thinning dressing gown swayed as he did so. The woman slowly sat up in the bed, wincing.

“Ok so then, what are we doing miss?”

Hanna looked at him. The woman’s groan caught her attention. The man moved closer. Hanna locked onto him with her eyes.

“Why is she so noisy?”

“Her? You can ignore her. She’ll be out of the way in a minute or do you want something else?”

He stepped closer, his hands hidden in his pockets. The bed creaked.

“Don’t come closer to me. You! Stop making noise!”

The man stepped back and took his hands out of his pockets. The woman sat upright, covering herself. Hanna scanned both of them up and down then pointed at the man.

“What do you want?”

“To provide you with whatever you desire.”

“What about her?”

“Same. It’s the job.”

The man said. He frowned as he stepped over towards the bed.

“You want to join?”

Hanna stomped forward and grabbed the man by his clothes.

“I won’t let that fat pig touch me. Don’t even imply I want that. Understood?”

He raised his hands and grimaced. The woman shifted uncomfortably to her feet and started to move away.

“Why are you so fat?”

“What?”

“Why are you fat?”

“I’m … I’m with child.”

“Why?”

The woman paused and looked at the man.

“It’s … part of the job. Why do you ask?”

Hanna marched over to the woman and poked her stomach. The woman held Hanna’s hand to her stomach.

“How can you walk?”

“Ahem … what’s your name?”

“Hanna. How can you walk?”

“I mean it's … not comfortable to walk about I suppose.”

Hanna turned to the man and pointed at him.

“Did you do this?”

He scowled.

“I don’t know…”

Hanna pointed for the woman to sit on the bed. The couple sat nervously, looking at Hanna. She walked over and pulled off the man’s clothes, then stepped back and looked at the two of them again. Hanna raised a finger and then walked around the room, dragging her hand along the wall. She came round behind the two and jumped onto the bed right between them.

“Do you like it?”

The woman turned to look at her.

“Being pregnant?”

Hanna nodded vigorously before rolling off the bed.

“Do you like it?”

“I’m not so sure about that. It’s a mixed feeling.”

“Why?”

The man looked at Hanna, then back to the woman.

“Hanna was it? Do you m-”

She lunged at the man and slapped him across the face.

“Quiet! I’m not talking to you.”

Her knees pressed her weight onto his chest. Hanna grabbed his face and turned it side to side, then sat on his stomach.

“It is a rather wonderful experience in some ways Hanna but I…”

The woman begins to cry; she turns away and hides her face. Hanna crawls over and down to her feet to look into the woman’s eyes.

“Did your man die too?”

The woman’s breathing hitched. She held a hand to her chest, the other reaching for Hanna.

“No … no… it’s not that.”

Hanna licked the woman’s knee, then moved back.

“So, do you like it then?”

The woman covered her face and began to sob. The man sat up and held her close. Hanna looked at them and observed.

NOTE:

It is not clear precisely how this part of the interaction affected Hanna and due to an oversight, it was not possible to establish a consistent tell for when she was interacting with Muracr. Circumstantially, though, this moment appears to be key to the advice Hanna was receiving.

Her continued fascination surrounding natural birth is considered to still be beneficial despite the subsequent actions taken.

Crucially, this confirms at least a portion of the products were natural. The ratio, though, will unfortunately remain obscured. Internal metrics and testing suggest the ratio would have to be no greater than 18% of floor products to avoid drying out refreshed batches. The exact logistical manoeuvring may be partially reconstructed from the visual capture but, as of right now, it is not possible to say.

VISUAL RECORD:

“Why are you crying?”

“Sorry Hanna, it’s … it’s just a lot to handle.”

Hanna crawled closer and began to let out a low growl. She crept closer and closer to the man. His eyes widened more and more as she edged closer.

“You did do this then didn’t you? Why?”

He tucked his legs up from the floor.

“Hanna this is … I mean it’s… I-”

She grabbed his leg and yanked him from the bed. His head hit the floor hard. The woman screamed. Hanna crawled up the man’s body as he whimpered. She growled at him. She pulled the blade from her belt and moved it about before tossing it to one side. Sitting on the ground beside him, Hanna pulled her calf to her face and bit a chunk out, abruptly reached inside. All the colour drained from him as she pulled a blade out. He fumbled to his feet, tripped and fell back to the floor. Hanna walked up to him and grabbed his left foot. She then slid the knife through the back of his ankle. She dropped it, then picked up the other foot and did the same.

Through the door, a voice called out.

“Is everything ok in there?”

Hanna pressed the man’s face into the ground and glared at the woman who answered.

“Yes … t- thank you…”

Hanna rolled the man over, shoved her hand into his mouth, pulled his tongue out and kneed his mouth closed in a fraction of a second. She dangled the tongue, looked to the side [nodded] and then swallowed it.

She moved down to his stomach and lined up the knife. He grabbed her by the hair and pulled her. Hanna followed the motion with a flip and locked his arm between her legs. She then applied pressure. The man’s muffled yell forced the woman outside to enter. She dropped her centre of gravity to take off. Hanna hurled the blade straight through the woman’s neck, pinning it to the opposite wall. She slumped to the floor.

Hanna stood up and skipped over the man. She stamped on the woman, then pulled the blade out of the wall. She turned and kicked the woman on the floor again, then dragged her inside and closed the door. Hanna looked at the woman on the bed.

“Just wait a minute please.”

She nervously nodded and watched Hanna drop the other woman in the corner before returning to the man. She carefully placed the tip of the blade on his stomach and pushed it in. The man’s other arm shot out to grab at Hanna. Instead, it was met with the blade being forced through the heel of the hand and partway up his forearm. Again, she repositioned the blade and dug a small hole into his abdomen. Hanna turned back to the woman on the bed and crawled over.

“We can move it now.”

The woman blinked.

“Excuse me?”

Hanna pointed to the bleeding man.

“He can have it.”

The woman held her stomach and backed away from Hanna.

“He can have what Hanna?”

Hanna pointed at her.

“The thing inside you.”

The woman’s skin turned white. She shifted further back on the bed, slowly turning her torso away. She shook her head.

“You want it inside you? Why? You’ll die.”

The woman mouthed silent words. Hanna hopped onto the bed. The woman jumped back and held herself tighter, shaking her head. Hanna reached out to the woman.

“Hanna. Why did you do that?”

NOTE:

Hanna’s voice at this point shifted to a drastically more childlike tone. Although she appears to interact with the surroundings and respond to the woman, it is unlikely Hanna was perceiving the situation as it was.

However, due to a lack of a debrief with her, this is merely a hypothesis at present.

AUDIO TRANSCRIPT:

[Visual data was corrupted beyond repair]

HANNA: You need help?

WOMAN (P): What do you want with my baby?

HANNA: Nothing. It is not my primary task, but I want to help you.

WOMAN (P): What is the primary task, Hanna?

[Silence]

HANNA: I’m not sure anymore.

WOMAN (P): Why did you do that to them, Hanna?

HANNA: She was going to cause problems. I prepared him so we can move that thing inside you.

WOMAN (P): That's not how it works.

HANNA: Why are you being so difficult? I’m trying to help. They’ll know something is wrong soon.

WOMAN (P): Please … just leave me alone… I don’t want your help.

HANNA: You’ll die though.

[Banging on the door]

SECURITY (1): You have 10 seconds to exit peacefully.

[Silence]

[Banging on the door]

SECURITY (1): Times up.

NOTE:

Hanna’s intent was deemed as being a genuine attempt to aid. The actions taken, lack of comprehension, and compounding time pressure resulted in the unintended termination of all three subjects for the operation.

The attempt at care, resulting in such an outcome, no doubt strained Hanna’s wavering grasp on her situation. Due to this event, a revision to the subject’s curriculum is to be implemented immediately.

The shorter blade was reintroduced to the calf. The longer of the blades was used extensively and also kept on her person.

VISUAL RECORD:

Finally reaching the processing room again, Hanna pointed at the clerk behind the desk. Peering out through the metal bars, he asked her.

“Did you like it?”

Hanna strides over to the clerk and forces her arm through the narrow gap, peeling her skin in doing so. She grabbed the clerk’s throat and shouted at him.

“THE BOSS! NOW!”

The clerk squeaked and pointed behind Hanna. She snarled, clamped her hand closed and tore his neck open. His head flopped forward, and Hanna turned around. She dropped the torn chunk on the ground.

“Is it you then?”

He had a stern face, a fitted suit, and slicked hair. He snapped his fingers. Two large bouncers stepped forward.

“You will be dealing with me. Am I clear?”

“Yes.”

The man opened his mouth to speak. Hanna spoke first.

“Are you the boss?”

The man's smile vanished, his eyes rolling with a dismissive flick of his wrist. The bouncers advanced towards Hanna, their heavy boots thudding on the floor. With a swift motion, her blade sliced through the left bouncer's leg with a sharp crack that sent him crumpling to the ground.

The other bouncer stepped back; the metallic glint of his unholstered gun caught Hanna’s attention. 

He fired.

The first shot tore through Hanna's upper arm. The second burrowed deep into her shoulder. A third split the skin of her neck. The fourth shot whizzed past. 

Hanna disarmed him with her blade and snatched the gun.

She vaulted onto him, forcing the cold steel of the pistol deep into his skull. A guttural scream ripped through the air. Hanna sprang back, the bouncers now crumpled heaps on either side of her. She approached the well-dressed man; his skin had become shiny with sweat.

The one-legged bouncer lunged and met the blade. As Hanna pulled her arm back, the bouncer fell to the floor. She looked at the man pinned to the wall.

“Where is the boss?”

[FURTHER DETAILS ARE REDACTED]

Mai was destined to be a star. She had beauty beyond words [except, I suppose, the words I used]. A voice so pure it was made illegal for her to enter many countries [I suppose dictators don’t like to be upstaged]. Mai’s dance moves? She could dance, and she could dance well. She stood at an exquisite 164cm. Her hair? Perfectly flowing and full. 

Her smile so bright and cheerful that the locals started to call her walk to work ‘The second sunrise’. Needless to say, Mai was going places.

Mai, would you care to say hi?

‘Hey guys! Lovely to be here. I can’t wait to see where my story goes.’

That’s the spirit Mai! A lovely lady by any metric I must say. However, one day, the narrator saw an interesting prompt [though Mai may have different ideas on the matter].

Going forward, Mai is actually only 90cm.

‘Why? That seems rather short.’

It is but you have no legs now.

‘Excuse me?’

Please, the prompt needs it and I’m in a flow. Now be quiet.

Let me see what else… oh yes! No face! She can’t speak then and… hang on… no voice? If she has no face… how could she have a voice… what’s that? Oh, of course! She may have no mouth but want to scream. Sounds like it could be a terribly interesting narrative tool. The things I could do with such a prompt!

In the space of about 220 words, we have made Mai a glorified [highly portable] utility, you might say. However! Mai will set out on an adventure to reclaim what she lost! Come and bear witness to: “The Reconstruction of Mai (May).” The title may need some work [the end piece is rather stubborn and harms the flow].

Plapping down the street on her hands … let me try that again.
Wobbling down the street using her hands to move forward. Her neighbours screamed as this weird little flesh ball trundled past. Mr Mitswhick, shocked as he was by the sight, shot himself. Nom nom nom, this gun barrel sure does taste yummy [shame my finger slipped].

At the great doors of her agency, which handled her contracts, she waited. The door handles were too high, you see. They sent her home eventually. What was it they said Mai?

Ha! Yes I know you cannot talk, just wanted to remind you. Mai, at home now, flipped and flopped to the wonderfully titled “Making Flippy Floppy” by Talking Heads [From the banger album, Speaking in Tongues].

Honestly, it would appear Mai is rather bored by now and I am finding it hard to navigate having her have no legs? What do you want from me? I need your name … let me call my manager.

It’s redacted?

Contest bias?

You have got to be kidding me!

Fine.

The name will NOT be included I suppose. So, to liven things I have a lovely, lovely wheel of options here. One of these will be added to the room for Mai. Here we go!

ANOTHER WOMAN! Well, too bad Mai doesn’t have a face, this is the perfect opportunity to change genres, am I right lads?

What now?

What do you mean, wrong POV?

Yes, of course it is third person. Are you insane? I’m not Mai!

No … really? I took too much of the narrative upon myself? Balderdash! Preposterous.

You’re cutting my funding? You cannot be serious! I have much more to write about and this is a total tragedy.

No, the reader has next to no context. They will hate it.

Yes of course it’s going to go down in flames because of this! Are you dense or something?

What am I meant to do with these two women and a dead man then?

Leave them? You are a-

One last word? That’s it?

Fiddlesticks.

---------------------------------------------

This is the contest in question: May Contest