Serval and Sheep (Chapter 34)
Desmond remembers a bad carnie.CW: implied sexual assault, pedophilia
This chapter contains a scene that, while not explicit, heavily alludes to a child being sexually assaulted. Please skip this chapter if this content makes you uncomfortable.
Desmond is surprised to see Hafsa shiver on their way to his dorm.
"Are you cold?" He asks, somewhat aware of the inanity of the question.
She brings her hands around her arm and strokes her patterned fur, causing it to stand on end from friction. "I've been outside for a while now."
Desmond tilts his head. "How long have you been curled up in that corner?"
"Ever since practice ended. So like six."
"You were alone there since six?!" The sheep bleats. "That's like four hours! You must be freezing!"
"Aw, are you worried about me?" Hafsa manages a crooked smile, looking at him with her usual smugness. "Wasn't I the one who had to lend you my sweater on Lupercalia?"
"My wool's grown out since then." He huffs. Suddenly, he stops and removes his coat jacket. In a not-so-delicate motion, he tosses the jacket on her, muffling her surprised yelp. "Give it back tomorrow."
Fumbling around the fabric, Hafsa manages to pry the jacket away from her face, and holds it against her chest. Usually, she'd make a fuss, and probably call him a pipsqueak, but for tonight, she'd rather not say anything at all.
"Thanks." She looks down at the rustling navy blue jacket and enfolds it around her. It's a little tight, but does its job at absorbing the snapping bites of the wind. The sheep responds with a curt nod and continues the trek.
In the silence that follows, Desmond focuses all his energy into not thinking at all. If he can just place one foot in front of the other for long enough, then he can finally go back to his dorm, sleep, and never have to process what's going on ever again.
"Hey, Desmond."
Something tells him that won't be happening tonight.
"Y-yeah?"
"You said you've met bad carnies before."
Desmond says nothing to this.
"Did someone try to eat you? Y'know... before I did?"
If this were any other night, Desmond would have shut this conversation down before the thought even occurred to her, and reprimanded the very idea of entertaining such a question. But tonight, he's too drunk on her physical contact.
"Yeah. It was a long time ago, though."
"Do you... wanna talk about it?"
He glances up at her face, and represses a smile. Although her face is marked with worry, the obvious curiosity glimmering in her eyes makes it all too clear that she really wants him to say yes.
"If it convinces you that there are worse carnies out there, sure."
In Ms. Lily's class, everyone got along great. All the little cubs would run around, play tag, eat snacks and take naps together. And all the little cubs loved Ms. Lily.
She was a bobcat with beautiful ginger fur. She was the smartest person he knew, even smarter than his papa, and did everything perfectly. Desmond loved to sit on her lap and trace the patterns on her arms as she read to him. It went stripe dot dot. Stripe dot dot. She also had a short little tail like his, which he thought was super funny.
"Kitties are supposed to have long tails!" He snickered.
Ms. Lily only replied with a kind smile. "I'm no kitty! I'm Ms. Lily!" And the two would laugh all over again.
So although Desmond would have fun chasing the other lambs around and butting their heads together (they pretended to have horns), he would merrily hop on the school bus every day knowing it'd be another day of fun with Ms. Lily.
After all, in this prehistoric world, before the solid concept of carnivores and herbivores existed, a little lamb could love a bobcat in the purest way a child could love his teacher. But one day, he found out she loved him too.
On a stormy afternoon, Desmond said goodbye to his classmates one by one as they were picked up by their parents and splashed away into the grey wetness of the parking lot. Although his house was nearby, he ended up being the last one in the classroom, patiently waiting to be taken home by his mother.
As he stared beyond the raindrop-splattered windowpane, a horrible lonely pain churned in his stomach. With each passing minute, he grew more and more anxious, worried that his mother might never come for him. Suddenly, he heard the dulcet voice of Ms. Lily.
"Don't be sad, Desmond! Come play with me while we wait for your mama to get here!" She beckoned him with open arms, sat down on the colorful flower-shaped rug. He ran to her and curled into her warm embrace. She smelled so different from his parents, but it was a nice smell, like cinnamon and lemon.
"There, there..." she purred, stroking his soft wooly head. "Hey, I know a fun game we could play."
Desmond looked up at her, eyes wide with excitement. "What game?"
She tilted her head, and placed a hand on her chin in mock puzzlement. "Hmm... I don't remember the name. But I know how it goes. You're 'it', okay?"
The lamb gave her a smile numbed in confusion. "Are we playing tag?"
"Hmm... not really. The rules are a little different." She suddenly picked him up from her lap and propped him to his feet. Still on her knees, she looked at him right in the eyes and gave a mischievous grin.
"The 'it' in this game needs to take all their clothes off."
Desmond's smile faded, leaving only confusion.
"Huh?"
"That's right. It's a little strange right? You can keep your undies on if you want, but it's important that I see the 'it's body."
"I-it's kind of cold..."
Ms. Lily smiled. "I'll make you a nice cup of hot chocolate later. Sound good?"
The little lamb nodded. Hesitantly, he wobbles off his shirt, then his shorts, and kicks off his light-up shoes and socks. He helplessly looks up at Ms. Lily, waiting for her next instruction.
"Good job! Now, I need to check you before we start the game. To make sure you're ready to play."
Desmond no longer recognized the eyes of the animal facing him. But he stayed still, and lets her circle around him, as she pinched and prodded his lean muscles. He looked out at the grey clouds, hoping to find solace.
This tension he feels. This overwhelming foreboding that fills his body. This feeling that somehow, he needs to get out of there right now. He'd never felt anything like that before.
"M-ms. Lily...?" He quivered. "When are my parents coming?"
The bobcat tilted her head, as if she's wondering why he would say such a thing. "They're not coming, Desmond. I never called them."
"Huh? W-why not?"
Ms. Lily's face contorted into a wide smile, devoid of any of the warmth he had come to expect. "You wanna know?"
Her claws clenched around his neck and pummeled him into the carpet in less than a second.
The lamb could not even react to the blow before her grip around his trachea tightened, crushing all attempts to scream for help. Though his small limbs flailed around, desperate to repel the beast, they were subdued by the remaining paw and her overwhelming weight.
He can't recall what she said after this. The noise was blocked out by the incessant pounding of blood in his ears. As the metallic taste of blood permeated his mouth, as Ms. Lily opened her mouth, exposing her glistening fangs blurred by the tears forming in his eyes, he could only hear the deadly throbbing tremble in every fiber of his being.
It was as if his very body was taunting him; dangling the last remaining proof of his life right in front of him right before we was about to lose it. He would die to the tune of his irony.
Desmond wakes up with a single startled gasp. He doesn't shift, but clings to the sheet of his mattress, grounding himself. He notices the sheet, and indeed his whole body, is moist with sweat.
Silently, he lies there drowning in his pulse and perspiration until he regains some composure. Once the horrible pounding had retreated back into the confines of his chest like a cowardly parasite, he dares to sit up. Propping himself up with his arms, he stares blankly at the wall. A sudden headache racks his brain, nearly toppling him over.
He's been having the dream more frequently this year. It's usually a monthly affair, but ever since that fateful day in the student council office, it's been ruining his nights every week. For a while, it had calmed down. It's only natural such memories would come back to haunt him after spilling his guts to Hafsa.
Her reaction was nothing short of disgusted horror. It was somehow relieving to know every carnie could feel revolt towards Ms. Lily's actions. She had asked how he managed to survive, and what became of the elementary school teacher.
"My parents walked in right as she was about to break my neck," he explained. "They had gotten worried because of the rain, and came to pick me up without being called. She freaked out and ran away but the cops found her not long after. Turns out she'd been frequenting the black markets for years, buying meat of young animals. Seems she had a taste for lamb in particular."
Hafsa grimaced.
"She must still be in prison." Desmond concluded. "No carnie caught for ingestion of meat and attempted predation would get out in less than twenty years."
Now in his bed, he wonders how life would have been like he he'd wound up in another class, away from Ms. Lily. A useless thing to speculate on. What happened was real, and can never be undone. For all the good carnies he has met and has yet to meet, this will remain true.
With this thought in mind, Desmond lays back down, and falls into a dreamless sleep.