Suddenly…
Brrrrrrrrrr!!!
A loud, humiliating growl erupts from my stomach, shattering the quiet like a thunderclap in a still night.
"AAaa!!! I'm so sorryyyy!!!"
Heat rushes to my face, my ears burning as I whip around, too mortified to meet Eris's gaze.
But instead of teasing me, Eris just chuckles softly. "I see. You've been asleep for two whole days—you must be starving," she says, her voice warm with amusement.
I clutch my stomach, still reeling from the betrayal. "Ah… yeah…" I mumble, staring intently at the floor. "Ermmm… is there… anything to eat?"
"Of course!" Eris grins. "Let's head downstairs—the innkeeper's cooking is amazing!"
Before I can react, she takes my hand, guiding me out of the room.
——————-
Now, walking beside Eris, her hand wrapped securely around mine, I feel… safe.
The hallway no longer seems so suffocating.
For the first time in what feels like forever, I'm not alone.
But as we move closer—
Closer to that place—
The place where I encountered those drunken bastards—
The memories hit.
Hard.
Like a tidal wave crashing over me, dragging me under.
I'm drowning.
My heartbeat slams against my ribs, so loud, so violent, I can feel it in my throat.
I can't breathe.
The air—gone.
My chest constricts, lungs burning, my body betraying me as panic coils around my throat like an invisible noose.
Then—their faces.
Twisted. Cruel.
Burned into my mind like an inescapable nightmare.
Their voices—vile, mocking—slither into my ears, growing louder, louder, until they become a warped, inescapable chant:
"Hey, don't be shy!"
"Come on, have a drink with us!"
"Little kitty, how about you show us how playful you really are?"
A sharp, gut-wrenching nausea slams into me, twisting my stomach into knots.
I stumble.
I force myself forward.
Move.
Move.
Move.
But every step feels like wading through quicksand, dragging chains too heavy to bear.
Then—
I see it.
That cursed door.
The one they had pounded on, screaming for me.
My vision warps.
The door swings open in my mind, hinges creaking, and they're there—grinning, leering, hands reaching.
Stumbling toward me.
Hungry eyes.
Their voices turn into shouts—angry, desperate, predatory.
"GET HER! PATRICK, GET HER!"
"FUCK! OPEN UP!"
"OPEN UP, YOU LITTLE BITCH! WE JUST WANNA HAVE SOME FUN!"
No…
No.
My pulse pounds like war drums, a deafening, merciless rhythm hammering inside my skull.
My hands—shaking.
My body—trembling, every muscle locked in terror's vice grip.
NOOO!
I want to scream, but my throat is locked—the terror strangling it, suffocating the sound before it can escape.
I clutch Eris's hand tighter—tighter—like a lifeline.
If I let go, I'll be swallowed whole.
I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block them out.
Trying to silence the nightmare before it consumes me.
I have to move.
I have to keep going.
One step.
Then another.
Each step feels like hauling the weight of the world on my back, the fear pressing harder with every inch I cover.
Just a few more steps.
Just a little further.
I just have to make it past this.
Just a few more steps…
…
Boop!
I bump into Eris, my eyes still squeezed shut.
The impact jolts me, yanking me back to reality like a sudden splash of ice-cold water.
I blink, disoriented.
My heart is still hammering, its rapid beats pounding in my ears like war drums.
"Huh? Felicia?"
Eris's voice is soft—gentle—but laced with concern.
She turns to face me, her hand still wrapped securely around mine. "What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
I open my mouth—
But nothing comes out.
The words—stuck.
My throat feels tight, constricted, like something heavy is lodged there, blocking the truth from escaping.
My legs tremble, threatening to buckle beneath me.
"N-no…" I finally manage, my voice barely above a whisper. I shake my head weakly. "It's… nothing."
Liar.
I could tell her.
I should tell her.
About those men. About the fear that's eating me alive. About the terror still clawing at my insides, making my hands tremble.
I could tell her how scared I was.
How scared I still am.
But I don't.
The words get caught—trapped—tangled in the suffocating knot of fear lodged in my throat.
Instead, I force out a shaky breath.
"I… I'm fine."
Another lie.
I try to make it sound steady, but the waver in my voice betrays me.
Eris narrows her eyes, studying me closely, as if she can see right through the flimsy mask I'm trying so desperately to hold up.
"Are you sure?" Her tone is softer now, but her grip on my hand tightens just a little, grounding me. "You don't look well."
I swallow hard, forcing a hollow laugh. "M-maybe I'm just… too hungry, hehe…"
The words sound fake. Forced. But it's the best excuse I can come up with.
For a moment, Eris doesn't say anything.
Then—"Ah, right."
Her smile returns, but the worry in her eyes lingers.
She knows.
I can feel it.
But she doesn't press further.
And somehow—
I'm grateful for that.
We continue walking. Slower now.
Step by step.
I focus on the rhythm of our movements—on the steady, simple act of walking—using it to anchor myself, to keep from slipping back into the whirlpool of panic threatening to drag me under.
And finally—
We reach the main dining area of the inn.
The sound of clattering dishes and lively conversation washes over me, breaking through the lingering haze of fear.
And just for a moment—
I let myself breathe.
———————————————————-
I pause at the entrance, taking in the scene before me.
The dining hall is massive, buzzing with warmth and energy. Golden light spills from grand chandeliers hanging from thick wooden beams, casting a soft glow over the space. The air is rich with the aroma of roasted meat, freshly baked bread, and spiced ale—a scent so inviting that my stomach immediately growls in response.
Long wooden tables stretch across the room, lined with benches where large groups feast and drink together, their laughter echoing through the space. Smaller tables are scattered throughout for more private gatherings, creating a balance between liveliness and intimacy.
Business is thriving.
People talk, laugh, and drink in high spirits. But what catches my attention the most—
The diversity.
Among the humans, there are others.
Figures with cat ears and wolf tails. Towering beings covered in thick fur, their sheer size resembling a cross between men and bears. Two women with glistening scales, their long tails swishing behind them, their skin shimmering in unique hues—one a deep charcoal grey, the other an almost ethereal pale white.
A world of creatures, of lives so different from my own, all gathered here under the same roof, sharing food, stories, and laughter.
The clink of mugs, the scrape of plates, the hum of conversation—it all blends into a lively, rhythmic backdrop.
And yet—
I can't relax.
My eyes scan the room, moving from face to face, searching.
Waiting.
My heartbeat stutters as I look, fear creeping in like a cold shadow.
Are they here?
The two men from before?
My chest tightens—
But…
They're not.
I exhale, the tension in my shoulders easing just a little.
"Felicia, where do you want to sit?" Eris's voice is gentle, cutting through my swirling thoughts.
I blink, forcing myself back to the present. My gaze drifts across the room again before landing on a table tucked away in the dimmest corner.
"Can we… sit there?" I ask softly, pointing toward the secluded spot.
After everything that happened, the press of people feels too much.
Too loud.
Too overwhelming.
Too… exposed.
I need somewhere quiet. Somewhere where I can breathe.
Eris follows my gaze, then nods. "Alright, let's go there!" She offers a reassuring smile, as if sensing the unease I haven't voiced.
We weave through the crowd, slipping between tables, past lively groups with raised mugs and plates piled high with food. The noise fades, bit by bit, as we step into the darker, quieter part of the room.
Here, the light is softer, shadows pooling around us like a protective barrier. The overwhelming energy of the main hall dulls to a low murmur, muffled just enough to soothe my nerves.
We settle into our seats, the silence between us not uncomfortable.
I like this.
I need this.
A moment to breathe.
A moment to gather myself.
Now, all that's left is to wait for a waitress to approach.