Nameless

Written by Joanna Elizabeth Benitez

She was the type of little girl that hid, crouched and small, from the adults. The silent type too afraid to give voice to her wants. So despite being tired, she lay awake in bed, waiting. She was good at that. Sometimes she wondered if people even knew she was there, that she was a little girl and not a wall. 

It was hours past her bedtime and sneaking about was not something her parents would look down upon kindly. Still, she snuck out from beneath tucked-in blankets and a warm bed. With naked and silent feet, the little girl made her way past her bedroom, and down the flight of stairs. She took the steps one at a time as a toddler does, with one leg always the braver, and not once did she stumble. At the base of the stairs, the little girl crouched and despite the white nightgown she wore which billowed beneath her, she crawled with the skill of a creature born to do so.

Upon the doorway, she held her breath and listened to the generational voices clustered within the room. The little girl knew what would happen then, what always happened when the adults gathered and the children were sent off to bed. It was why she stayed awake for the past hour even though her eyes ached, and her body begged for sleep. Not so now. Now she was wide awake, eager to hear what no child should.

The girl was small for her age, but she tucked her limbs beneath her torso and pressed herself into the wall. Like always she became part of it. It wasn’t hard. She was plain and quiet to begin with, unnoticeable and forgettable. The little girl inched forward, forward still, until her dark eyes could peek into the room. 

And so it started. 

They talked of the old days, of the motherland, and the Ancients. They spoke of the ageless monsters which roamed the land, and as they did, the little girl listened closely for this is what she wanted, the magic words meant only for those who are grown and of the motherland.

The little girl closed her eyes and let the words create pictures in her head. Sometimes they were violent bloody pictures, sometimes not. Sometimes what the adults said made no sense, not to her, but she listened and loved them all the same. When the adults finally stood for the coffee awaiting them in the kitchen, the little girl raced to her dark room, her curly black hair streaking behind her. 

With bated breath, the little girl lay in her bed and waited. Her heart raced, but no one came into her room to scold her. Sure that no one had seen her, she sat up and pulled open the curtains behind her bed. She smiled then. And the Moon smiled back. 

When the little girl felt a gentle caress against her cheek, she tried to capture the Moon’s touch against her face. The Moon beamed with pleasure. Another caress, this time on her eyelids. Sleep, it said, but the little girl shook her head. 

Her parents always made her close the curtains before bed. They knew how the Moon hypnotized her, but the little girl loved the Moon. It protected her, watched over her, and so she shook her head once more for their time together was limited, and she loathed to waste it with sleep. 

Yes, said the Moon. You are tired. Sleep.

The little girl pouted, hurt. 

The Moon wiped the tears from her round cheeks. Would you like me to sing?

The little girl nodded. She left the curtains wide open so that the Moon could shine down upon her, and grabbed the stuffed creature, a cross between a spider monkey and a bear, and tucked it under her chin. It was an old ugly thing, but she feared if she didn’t love it, then no one would. She hugged it to her chest now and crawled under the blankets. 

The little girl was exhausted, but her mind whirled as it always did. This time her thoughts were consumed with the stories she had heard that night. She knew the land of which the adults spoke was real, but she couldn’t figure out why people would live there. Weren’t they afraid of the monsters? And then she realized it was the land itself. It was magical after all, a land brimming with wild trees and lush mountains. What it would be like to live in such a place?

That was hard to imagine for the little girl knew only of the land of steel and concrete. Perhaps…perhaps…The thought vanished and the little girl sighed. She closed her eyes and let the Moon’s soft and impossibly beautiful voice lull her to sleep. A final thought came to her then and it was this: What were the monsters afraid of?

And so she was born. 

In a land of magic, on a dark night, under a glowing moon, a nameless one was born.

She did not speak. No, the Nameless One would never speak but she hummed. Oh, how she hummed. She hummed now as she slowly twirled beneath the moon, the tune emanating from her throat soft and melodic, like a lullaby that is sung to a child in the dark of night.

The Nameless One loved the night. She especially loved the Moon, and the Moon loved her for the Moon was full and shining when she was created; formed as she was now––a small girl with wide eyes, brown skin, and long black hair. But unlike a babe, she was born clothed in a high-collared nightgown the color of starlight. It had long sleeves and a hemline that fell below her knees. She was also born able with a mind fully formed and a strong body. 

The Nameless One twirled and swayed to her honeyed tune, and though her feet were bare, she felt no pain or discomfort. 

The Moon smiled. How could it not? She was enchanting. 

Laughing, the Moon reached out. It cradled her small round face in its light and lay a tender kiss upon her forehead. It is upon this kiss that the Nameless One stopped humming. 

She tilted her head and listened. Listened. Eyes brightening, she looked up at the Moon. 

And so the Moon let her go for she was the Moon’s favorite.

She ran for miles, her little body moving silently through the foliage like a creature born to do so. She ran hard and fast. She leaped over fallen giants and gurgling sinkholes. She climbed hills and long-lived trees. She even spooked a troop of long-hidden creatures that lived amongst the canopies. They screamed and howled and pushed the young behind them. 

The Nameless One inched forward on all fours and peered into their large soulful eyes. Innocence gazed back at her. She blinked and continued on. 

Her legs were short, but she pushed and ran, sensing a renewed urgency within her. And then she saw him. A monster.

He was hiding in the shadow of a large rock, the dark of the shadow blending into the dark of his pelt perfectly. Thin and long and impossible, he lay close to the ground. In front of him was a couple writhing on the ground. They were unaware of the monster’s presence, just as the monster himself was unaware of the child at his back. 

As the monster watched and waited for the couple to finish mating, the little girl picked her way across the landscape of rocks and fallen twigs. Slowly, so very slowly, she crouched, hiding behind the monster’s own shadow. And then she too waited.

The couple finished soon enough. Satisfied in their climax, they dressed and began their separate journeys home to where their spouses awaited them. The monster allowed the couple a moment, not to escape or get away, but to heighten the thrill of the hunt. When he surmised it was time, he unfurled. 

The Nameless One extended her hand. She stroked a single finger over the monster’s pelt. 

The monster whirled and bared his fangs in a silent growl, ready to protect his prey. But, instead of one of his monstrous brethren, he found a small human girl crouched before him. Lost, he thought, but the Nameless One was neither human nor lost. He didn’t know that though. No one besides the moon, the wind, and the land itself did. 

Unfazed by the putrid scent of decay or the sharpness of his teeth, the little girl gazed into his crimson eyes. 

The monster knew what she would see. His skin prickled with anticipation. But she didn’t scream. Instead, the little girl shot forward. When she was but inches away, she canted her head, curious.

The monster frowned. No human had ever sought the madness from him before, and yet here she was, a child alone and unafraid. Intrigued, he met her unwavering gaze and was shocked to find her eyes were dark. So much so that his reflection was staring back at him as if through a mirror. How could a human child have such eyes? The thought was brief. He was bored and he had prey to hunt. 

Without warning, he swiped at the girl’s throat.

In the end, the fight was brief. 

A monster, a different one, hid beneath the water. It lay there at the bottom of the lake, hidden among the skeletal bodies of the men it romanced. 

Up above, perched on a large rock, a little girl skimmed her fingers through the cool surface of the lake and splashed the water with her feet. She lay on her belly and peered into the emerald water. She trailed both hands over the water and then she sighed. 

Sensing her disappointment and a little bored himself, a little tree raised its roots. It sauntered over to the large rock and waited politely. The little girl blinked, and her dark gaze filled with wonder. She sat up and lifted her hand in a shy wave. The tree shook one of its branches. Friend? It asked.

The little girl nodded and patted to soil beside her.

Beneath the tree’s shade, the little girl hummed as she watched the lake, waiting for the monster to emerge. 

It was twilight and a woman was swinging herself on the vines of a fig tree. 

Not far off from this woman was a little girl dressed in white. She sat on the branch of a tree and hummed silently to herself. As she did, she watched the other woman’s breasts swing like giant pendulums. Back and forth. Back and forth. The little girl kicked her feet. Back and forth. Back and forth.

So disgusted were the woman’s breasts at their own droopiness that they pulled at the skin, stretching it until they ran from each other. The meaty part of the breasts would smack against the woman’s back in fierce denial only to rush forward on a backswing, and meet in a punishing embrace in front of her chest.

The little girl cocked her head, not at the clapping breasts but at the glimpse she caught of the woman’s dual face.

A monster then.

A name came to her. Siguanaba, it said. Sihuethuet, it said. A third name was given but it was swept away with a whisper. 

High up on the limb of the tallest ceiba tree, the little girl waited until the moon was high. Only then did she finally give sound to her silent lullaby. So soft and beautiful was the sound that even Night herself stopped to listen. Louder and louder the humming became, until the woman, the Siguanaba, heard it. 

The Siguanaba searched the forest floor as was her instinct for she was a legend.

The little girl smiled. She tipped her head to the Moon, exposing the long column of her neck, and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with mist-damp air. This time when she gave sound to her lullaby it was with such clarity that the Siguanaba instantly looked up. Without breaking her song, the little girl tilted her head and peered into the Siguanaba’s eyes. 

The Siguanaba screamed for word had spread amongst her brethren. She quickly dawned her second face and severed the vines holding her onto the tree. 

The little girl gave chase and though she was smaller, not even half the Siguanaba’s size, she quickly overtook her. 

The Siguanaba hissed. She dropped into a crouch and curled her fingers, the black talon-like nails glistening. 

The little girl crouched too, mirroring the Siguanaba. Her nails, however, were small and round and white. The differences between them were endless. While one was mature in age and body, the other was young. While one was pale of skin, the other was dark. Straight hair. Curly hair. Naked. Nightgown.

The Siguanaba wrinkled her nose in disgust. There was no lure in the little girl. Nothing to entice or shock. Nothing to draw the eye. In fact, the little girl was so dull she could almost blend in with her surroundings. That is, all except her eyes. 

The little girl inched closer and the Siguanaba could not help but morph between the sultry young woman, and the wretched creature with lice-filled hair and hideous ground-grazing breasts. The little girl stopped a foot from the Siguanaba. 

The Siguanaba trembled. She could see her reflection in the girl’s eyes, and she hated it. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move. Her eyes were captured, her feet frozen to the ground. 

The little girl pointed at a trail between two trees. Minutes passed. The Siguanaba remained. The little girl’s black eyes glistened with mirth. A smile tugged at her lips. She jerked her chin at the path.

When the Siguanaba finally disappeared into the thick forest, the little girl stared after her, and as she did, she thought of how she’d hunt the Siguanaba only to let her escape again and again. For years to come, she’d chase the Siguanaba until she was brimming with terror so deep she could think of nothing else. Until the Siguanaba knew deep in her bones that she was being circled, taunted, hunted. And that one day, that little girl would kill her. 

The little girl smiled. She couldn’t wait for it to come, for the day she, the Nameless One, would behead the Siguanaba.

Giddy, the Nameless One lifted her arms to the Moon. Its light cradled her face. 

With her small hand, she trapped the caress against her cheek. She puffed out a silent laugh, and then she broke free. She skipped and twirled and swayed all across the forest ground on bare feet, all the while humming a lullaby that is sung in the dark of night to a little girl far far away.