A soft knock sounded on the thick mahogany door, three sharp raps against wood. He held his breath, heart hammering against his ribs. The knock came again, more insistent this time, shaking him from his stupor.
"Princess Araya! Aren't you awake yet? Don't tell me you forgot about the trade meeting scheduled for this morning?"
A soft, cheery feminine voice drifted through the door while the metallic scent of iron and blood from the corpse wafted into his nose, making his stomach lurch.
He pressed his hand to his mouth, tears blurring his vision as panic seized him.
What the fuck is happening!
His mind raced as he tried figuring out what to do. The door handle twisted and began pushing forward slowly.
"Stop!" He yelled, but a woman's voice emerged, louder than he'd intended. The door paused, held in place. Through the widening crack, he could see someone trying to peer inside.
The luxurious bed blocked the corpse from view at this angle, keeping the body hidden from whoever stood behind the door. He had to keep it that way.
"I'm naked! Don't open the door!" That should make whoever was out there back off, right?
Fortunately, his body was crouched behind the bed, so the person could only see his head.
"It's not like it's the first time I'm seeing you unrobed..." The voice said mischievously as the door threatened to swing wider.
"I said NO!" He practically screamed now. He absolutely could not let whoever was behind the door witness this crime scene. His mind had already shifted into survival mode—it didn't matter whether he'd done it or not. The body was here now, and he had to hide it.
Hesitation crept into the person's voice. "Okay, okay. I apologize, my lady." The voice replied meekly as the door clicked shut.
When he heard the lock engage, he slumped back and released a shuddering breath. No—how could he possibly feel relief? A dead body was still in the room with him!
Had whoever owned this body killed this woman? His thoughts spiraled frantically. Or had someone murdered this woman to frame the body's true owner?
Could the woman have killed herself? No, that seemed unreasonable—but damn, everything about this situation was unreasonable.
He struggled to his feet, hands trembling as he steadied himself against the bedpost.
He had to hide the body.
It didn't matter who had done it. Anyone who saw this would think he was the killer.
Why the hell is my luck so fucking rotten?
He wished this was all a nightmare. Or some absurd reality show where directors would burst through the walls and reveal laughing audiences.
But the coppery smell of blood, the weight of fear crushing his chest—none of that was going away. His heart pounded against his ribs so hard he wondered if he might have a heart attack or simply pass out from terror.
Not going to happen, he thought, scanning the room desperately for anything that could hide a body.
"Are you getting dressed, Princess Araya?" The voice called from outside.
He wanted to tell that voice to get lost, but couldn't risk raising suspicion. "Yes. I am. Just give me a few minutes."
His eyes landed on something—a chest adorned with fancy spiral crests of pure gold. He looked down at the body. She had pale skin and appeared roughly the same height as his new form, which he'd gauged from the mirror.
Five-ten. The chest looked smaller, but if he folded her knees, she might fit.
He rushed to the box, tension shooting down his spine as he fumbled with the heavy latches and lifted the lid. It opened after considerable effort, revealing dozens of elaborate robes and dresses packed inside.
Fuck.
Of course the golden chest wouldn't be conveniently empty, waiting for its new occupant. He couldn't waste more time or the person outside would grow suspicious. Who was that person anyway? A sister? Friend? Servant?
He hurriedly lifted as many clothes as possible from the chest, each garment weighing nearly as much as the lid itself. He placed them far from the corpse so blood wouldn't stain the fabric.
Even if he disposed of the body, what about all the blood?
One step at a time, he told himself, considering how to move her.
If he carried her cradle-style, he'd definitely stain his clothes with the congealing blood.
He decided to drag her by the arms. The body moved lifelessly as it slid across the beautiful tiles, leaving a crimson streak in its wake.
He dumped her into the chest arms and head first, then pushed her feet inside, forcing the lid closed to compress the body until it fit. He thought he heard bones crack in the process, but the sound was mercifully muffled by the closed box.
But she was so cold...
He shook his head to dispel the thought. He was committed now. He couldn't stop. He needed something to clean the blood, but this pristine room contained no rags, no dirty cloth he could use to mop up the mess.
Fine. He grabbed the silk blanket and used it to scrub the floor, making sure to eliminate every trace of red from the white tiles. The luxurious fabric soaked up the blood like a sponge. Then he reopened the box and stuffed the now-crimson blanket in with the body.
Why had he put her in head-first? Those blank eyes stared back at him accusingly.
Why did you let me die?
He slammed the lid shut just as knocking resumed.
"Are you sure you don't need help putting on your clothes, Araya?"
That voice again. He looked at the mess of beautiful gowns now scattered across the floor. That would definitely draw attention.
He couldn't keep stalling. He'd watched enough horror movies to know that wasting time would only make the person outside suspicious enough to barge in and see everything.
No. He had to do everything possible to avoid suspicion.
He closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down, though it felt impossible after what he'd just done.
He had to eliminate suspicion, which meant allowing whoever was outside to enter. The person seemed familiar with Araya—comfortable enough to walk into her room—so they were probably friends. He had to let her in to appear normal. He'd disposed of the evidence; now he just had to act natural.
How did I get here? Why is this happening to me? Did Araya kill that woman? Is there any way to get back home?
The questions hammered against his skull, but he pushed them aside and spoke, trying to compose himself in this new body as best he could.
"You can come in."