In a dark hut, a monster knelt in prayer. As the prayer ended, its figure morphed back into a human form, a head marked with stitches and eyes redder than a rose.
Rising with a grunt, it made strange noises as it stepped out of the primitive hut, bare and exposed.
Outside, the ground was littered with dead bodies, blood pooling into a small pond. The figure leapt into the crimson pool, bathing in it.
Soon it submerged into blood pond.
---
I was gathering groceries to prepare dinner, wanting to make a proper meal before leaving Ash. It wasn't much of a consolation, but it felt better than just vanishing without a word.
My thoughts were still racing, planning for contingencies.
I was ready to hit the road, leave this town, and figure out my next steps. Staying wasn't an option, knowing the killer was still in town.
If Jackie failed to deliver and got caught, it would lead them to Ash. My leaving his house would at least ensure my safety.
Then I could focus on finding a way to meet Mr. Meagirous directly. Once the government got hold of the scroll, their pursuit of me would lessen. The most vulnerable would be Mr. Meagirous himself, but surely, he had his own escape plans.
It was once again a battle of patience; the longer I waited, the better my chances became.
...
Dinner was ready, and the table was set. I had whipped up some fried chicken with a sauce, using whatever ingredients I could find at the local vendor.
Ash had a long day today, working overtime and barely making it home in time for dinner.
Seeing someone waiting for him with a warm meal already prepared brought a small smile to his face, one he couldn't quite hide.
But still, the creepy and weird image of him, I can't keep out of my head.
Ash was 34 years old, while Sarah, the true owner of the body I was currently possessing, was just 16. The age gap was strange and inappropriate, and the rules of marriage and dating here were no different from back home.
I asked him some time ago why he is head over heels for a minor girl, but he casually, without any alarm, and as if it were the most normal thing, said he would wait if I'm not ready.
This might be the only reason I can go through with what I was planning to do. In a way, I convinced myself that it wasn't an innocent person I was involving, but someone lost in his own delusion. Perhaps this will bring him some peace when the time comes.
I greeted him with a faint smile as he stepped through the door, brushing the dust of wood shavings from his coat.
"Welcome home, Ash."
For a moment, he just looked at me, as though searching my expression for something unrequited. Then he walked closer. The sound of his boots against the wooden floor seemed louder than usual, filling the silence of the small room.
As he came closer, he leaned in, instinct made me step back, my shoulders tightening before I could stop myself. Realizing it, he lowered his head."Sorry," he murmured, his voice quiet, almost swallowed by the air between us.
I forced a softer tone into my own words, eager to move us past the awkwardness.
"It's fine. I was just finishing up in the kitchen. We'll have fried chicken with my special sauce tonight; it's ready."
I paused for a moment, letting time pass, before speaking again, "The table is set. Join me after freshening up."
We settled at the table. The simple act of eating together eased the tension. The clatter of bones against plates filled the pauses between sentences, and the warmth of the food grounded the evening in ordinary comfort.
After a while, Ash was done, he started cleaning his fingers using a napkin, wiping his face alongside, his eyes lingering on mine before he spoke.
"I gave the box to Jackie. He'll make sure it's delivered tomorrow."
I nodded, feeling the weight of those words settle over me. The familiar routine of dinner could no longer mask what I knew was coming in the following day, and he sensed it too, though he never said a word. He kept acting as if he didn't know. I took a steadying breath, my hands gripping the edge of the plate.
I knew the waiting was over. The time had come to prepare myself, for the step I could no longer avoid.
With a hoarse voice, he finally asked, "Are you leaving me?"
A little shocked but staying calm and composed, I replied, "What do you mean?"
He looked at me, his gaze piercing. "You got what you wanted."
For a few moments, he paused, the silence hanging around us, suffocating.
Then, breaking the eerie tension, he added, "Can you give me an answer?"
We both knew the answer, but he still asked, hoping something might change, A hope perhaps. And I knew I couldn't deceive him now. But the question was, how could I say it? With the danger still outside, I just couldn't...
Stalling on him was no answer and lying I would be caught right away. Tomorrow I was leaving anyway why not just speak the truth.
I stood my ground, steadying my voice as I answered, "Yes."
His face lit up instantly, joy breaking across it like dawn. He seized my hand, clutching it with trembling fingers as tears welled in his eyes. For a moment, it almost felt real, almost.
But it wasn't the truth.
I had lied.
The words had slipped from my lips not out of love, but out of caution. To refuse him and remain under his roof would have been far too dangerous. Who could say what he might do if pushed? And I was in no condition to leave under the cover of night.
No. I would endure this moment. Tomorrow, I would rent a carriage to the station, catch the first train to the next city, and from there send him a telegram with the truth he deserved to hear, but not tonight.
That, I told myself, was the safest and wisest course left to me.