"Blood?!!"
"Is that Jean's blood... or one of her friends'?"
Questions flooded William's mind like a torrential deluge, one after another, rapid and in bursts that took less than a second in real time.
"I made sure to act before that enormous rat decided to take a bite out of one of its prey...!!"
"Or did I act too slowly...?"
A second drop of crimson blood dripped onto William's palm; he had already left three little girls lying on the cold stone floor.
Three of the four remained unconscious, except of course for Jean, who gazed in awe at the dazzling young man with golden hair standing before her.
Her eyes overflowed with such intense admiration that only an obsessed person could reflect in their pupils.
And William would easily realise this if he deigned to spare her a glance.
"You're William, aren't you?!!!"
Jean Duvall said with great excitement; joy filled her voice, something extremely rare given her situation and how close she'd come to meeting her death and never returning.
"I've seen you every time you go to my family's shop to buy desserts…"
"We'll talk later, Jean."
William replied to the girl before turning to the air and asking a question of the fairy who was hidden from the girls' view.
'Bruma, can you get these girls out of here?'
'Only if those are your orders.'
Bruma, the orchid fairy, had been sent by Princess Moanna with a single order: to ensure that William Stoneborn accepted the hunting pact and to do whatever was necessary to sever the pale man's head from his slender neck.
"Do it!"
William said, and turned his attention to the blue crystal screens of his system, windows that only he could see and sense.
[Mission: Hunting Pact. 'Child Eaters'.]
[Objective: Eliminate the Child-Eating Beast of Spain, The Pale Man.]
[Objective: Eliminate the Child-Eating Beast of New England, Black Phillip.]
[Objective: Eliminate the Child-Eating Beast of Germany, Ruuttus.]
His eyes quickly scanned the various notifications, which had appeared the moment he set foot inside the Pale Man's lair.
[Notification: Poisoning. Poison of the Rat King. 'The Plague That Ravages']
The mysterious drops of blood that had fallen onto the palm of William's left hand had come from his nose; Ruuttus's venom had managed to enter William's bloodstream without him noticing, through a tiny cut on his right side, just above his ribs.
He had to raise his arm and twist his neck to see the wound through which Ruuttus's poison had entered his body; the King of Rats had reacted to William's attack and counterattacked with his poisonous claws in an instant.
William would have considered retreating had he not read the following words on his system's screen: the antidote to any of the curses, poisons, plagues or venoms of a King of Rats lies in his liver; he merely needed to ingest a small piece to neutralise the poison that would corrode his body in about fifteen minutes.
- Nevermore - Ophelia Hall -
"Well, four minutes have already passed and there's no sign of Will; that means he needs more time."
Enid sighed deeply and tried to calm herself; the five minutes a normal chalk door would remain open wouldn't be long enough for William to complete his task on the other side of the chalk door.
Princess Moanna knew this, so she had previously arranged for one of her craftsmen to make a special piece of chalk capable of opening a chalk door that would remain open for at least fifteen minutes, and would even keep the space stable after the pale man's death.
Enid checked the time on her mobile and peered through the trapdoor in the floor; there was no sign of William, only the dusty floor of two-tone tiles was in view.
After confirming this, Enid took a silver piece of chalk from her pocket. She was very nervous; that chalk was what separated the world where William was from the one she was in now. If she lost it or misplaced it, she wouldn't know how to bring him back.
(Right, Enid, don't mess this up. He's one of the best things that's ever happened to you. Even if I never turn into a wolf, as long as I'm with him, that's enough!!!)
Enid thought this as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself.
(Let's get this shit done.)
Enid took one last look at her mobile; the photo she used as her wallpaper was one of the first she'd taken with William. It meant a lot to her and gave her courage.
Her hands were steady and her strokes straight—perfect lines that formed the second chalk door she'd drawn in less than half an hour.
"Adding the five minutes for the first door to the fifteen for this one should be enough time for him to do what he has to do and come back."
The silver chalk in her hands had been completely used up.
Before the girl in the pink, fluffy sweater could breathe a sigh of relief at completing her task, a sudden knocking on her bedroom door startled her.
- Hall of the Pale Man. -
"Wait, William!!
Jean said anxiously, watching as William walked further and further away from her down the curved corridor, between the long, slender stone columns; she watched his shadow disappear into the distance.
She wasn't afraid, not now; she was anxious at the thought of missing the chance to exchange a few words with the object of her obsession, even though she herself didn't realise how strange her thoughts were.
Jean wanted to run after him, grab the hem of his long-sleeved T-shirt with both hands and pull him towards her.
"Stop."
Those sudden words startled Jean, who came to an abrupt halt and took a step back.
Bruma broke his spell and revealed his physical form to the girl, fluttering right in front of them with his four moth-like wings.
"Where is your door?"
Bruma asked, tilting her head so that her hair completely covered her face; her facial expression was not visible, but her tone of voice indicated a total lack of interest in the human child standing before her.
"Door…?" Jean didn't understand what the little fairy, who looked gloomy as she stood before her, was talking about.
"The chalk door you drew, the one you used to enter this space."
"The door we came in through was over there." Said Jean, pointing in the direction William had gone.
''You'll have to draw a second door, an exit; the one you used to come in must be closed by now.''
Bruma flew close to the wall and pressed one of her palms against the cold surface.
"Drawing it here should take you straight home."
Bruma's demeanour was completely different; the pleasant, smiling fairy she had been with William had vanished, leaving only an unfriendly, empty shell.
"Draw her! Yes!!! Right away, but I'll need some chalk..."
Jean immediately remembered that it was Mia who had opened the first door in her room with the new chalk her mother had bought her that very morning.
"If there's any chalk left, Mia should have it."
thought the girl. Her hands were quick; she began to search and rummage through the pockets of Mia's pyjamas.
"That's all there is…"
Jean's hands held a little white chalk dust; the sudden movements with the Rat King had ground Mia's chalk stick into powder.
"You'd better hurry!!!"
"Why?... Oh, that's why."
Jena turned towards Bruma's little hands; a long shadow was drawing ever closer to her position. She was sure it wasn't William returning—why was she so sure? Because the enormous shadow cast a long snout and wagged a thick tail behind it.
"What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?..." Jean repeated, growing increasingly panicked. "It's impossible to draw with powder, unless... I wet it with something."
Jean's eyes darted from one corner of the room to another in search of water—a leak in the ceiling, a puddle of stagnant water; anything would do, yet there was nothing in sight.
"Saliva…" Bruma reminded her in a low voice.
Jean stuck a finger in her mouth; it was dry, as dry as the pavement on a hot summer's day.
"I'm sorry, Ellie."
Jean murmured as she emptied all the chalk dust into her friend's mouth. Perhaps Ellie was having a lovely dream—one where she could eat as much as she liked, or one where she could be with her beloved grandmother again. The truth was that Ellie's mouth was so full of saliva that it was spilling from the corners of her lips.
Jean looked disgusted as she stuck her finger into Ellie's chalk-filled mouth; it now resembled a thick white paint, but the sticky consistency on her fingertip was repulsive.