Maria

The boy didn't respond. He simply continued to stare, that unnerving smile unwavering. Then, he began to twitch. Small, involuntary spasms rippled through his body. His limbs jerked, his head lolled from side to side. The twitching intensified, escalating into violent convulsions.
            Alpa watched in horror, frozen in place. She couldn't look away, even as a primal instinct screamed at her to run. The ground beneath her seemed to vibrate with an unseen force. A low hum filled the air, growing louder, resonating deep within her bones.
            Suddenly, the boy stopped convulsing. He lay still, his crimson eyes fixed on her. The smile hadn’t faded. If anything, it seemed to widen, revealing even more of those tiny, needle-sharp teeth.
            “Papa,” he whispered again, his voice stronger this time, more confident. “Play.”
            A wave of pure, unadulterated terror washed over Alpa. This wasn't a child. This wasn't even remotely human. Whatever this was, it was something ancient, something malevolent. Something that shouldn’t exist.
            She turned and ran. She didn’t look back. She didn't know what she was running from, but she knew she had to get away. Away from the boy. Away from the place. Away from the growing sense of dread that threatened to consume her entirely. The image of those crimson eyes, and that grotesque smile, burned into her mind, a chilling reminder of the horror she had just witnessed.

A small, choked cry escaped his lips. Alpa instinctively covered her ears, a wave of nausea washing over her. The sound wasn’t a cry of pain or fear, but a strange, guttural sound, almost like a clicking. It vibrated in the air, making the hairs on her arms stand on end.
            She stumbled back, her hand instinctively reaching for the pistol at her hip. But her fingers fumbled, clumsy with a sudden, inexplicable tremor. The world seemed to warp around her, the grey dust swirling in dizzying patterns.
            The boy lay on his back, limbs splayed awkwardly. He wasn't crying. He wasn’t moving. He simply stared back at her, those crimson eyes fixed on her with unnerving focus. Then, slowly, a smile crept across his face. It wasn’t a child’s smile, innocent and playful. It was wide, too wide, stretching his lips in a grotesque parody of happiness. It revealed rows of tiny, needle-sharp teeth.
            "Mama," he said, his voice a low, raspy whisper that seemed to slither into her mind. "Hungry."
            The word hung in the air, heavy and ominous. Alpa felt a cold sweat break out on her forehead. She tried to speak, to form a coherent sentence, but her throat was constricted, her voice trapped somewhere deep inside her.
            She took a shaky step backwards, then another. Her boots crunched on the shattered stone, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the silence. The air grew thick, almost suffocating. She could smell something new now, something acrid and metallic, overlaying the familiar scent of dust and decay. It made her stomach churn.
            "Stay away," she finally managed to croak out, the words barely audible. "Don't come any closer."

"Uh!" She waved her arms in the air, a gesture of frustration and disbelief. The air felt thick, heavy with unspoken fear.
            Apla pressed a hand to her stomach, trying to coax some food from her meager stores. "Just getting thinner and thinner every day!" She was annoyed that the bad news had found its way here, to this forgotten corner of the world. This wasn't supposed to happen. This place was supposed to be safe.
            "What!" A voice, sharp and unfamiliar, echoed behind her. Adrenaline jumped and flowed through her veins. She glanced over her shoulder and there was a small boy crouched behind the fallen coivid. He was small, no older than five, with big, scared eyes and a smudge of dirt on his cheek. He clutched a gnarled stick in his hand and swung it aggressively at her. His clothes were ragged, patched together with the wrong fabrics, and his bare feet were rough and dirty.
            "Calm down," she said slowly, deliberately, trying to keep her voice level. She lowered herself back to the ground and carefully put the gun back in its holster. Alpa tried to force a calm smile on her lips, but it felt crazy and unnatural.
            "Must?" The boy's eyes widened, filled with a mixture of fear and hope. He took a hesitant step towards her. "Ba ma?" He giggled softly at what he said, a sound so innocent, so jarringly out of place in this desolate landscape. Was he a baby? Or only two years old?
            Alpa stared into the boy's eyes, and a chill ran down her spine. They weren't the wide, frightened eyes of a lost child. They were… blood red. A disturbing, unnatural crimson that seemed to glow in the dim light. They held no fear, no hope, only a blank, unsettling intensity. She’s seen madness in people's eyes before, but this was different. This was… wrong. Fundamentally, intrinsically wrong.
            She recoiled, pushing the boy away with a force that sent him sprawling backwards onto the dusty ground.