*knock* *knock*
The light leaves my eyes once I hear a faint knocking in the distance. Everything, including the ocean, is now gone. My eyelids feel heavy, but as the knocking becomes louder, they become lighter.
As the door begins creeping open, I open my eyes. I'm laying on a massive bed with wrinkled red bedsheets. The pillows are plush. Its overall quality far outmatches my room's bed.
"I see you're awake." The old woman clasps her hands together. Her body naturally hunches as she slowly makes her way to the bedside. "How are you feeling?" She asks, grabbing my hand.
My body still aches, but I feel more mobile now. I look at my hands, then at my chest, then at my… wait, where's my clothes? Actually, I never had any clothes since I climbed out of that basement. "Where am I?"
"You're safe here, boy." She places a cold hand on my cheek, visibly struggling but managing a smile. "You're in a brothel."
"A brothel? Like… where prostit-" The lady cuts me off before I could finish.
"This is a special brothel where we have higher-end clients, like nobles." She retreats her hand from my cheek.
"Nobles?" I ask.
The room is filled with silence. The aging wrinkles on her forehead somehow intensify further, her face a gesture of disgust, as if I just asked her a generally stupid question.
"Your head must be hurting." Her knees shake as she stands and makes her way back to the door. "No matter. You should be in fine condition. He'll be arriving shortly." I give her a thumbs up before she hesitantly leaves the room.
*thud* I hit my head as I hurled myself out of bed.
What does she mean, 'he'll be arriving shortly?' Did she only save me to make me an employee here? That snake!
I try to open the door but it's locked. There's a window in my room but it's boarded up. My brain is pounding against my skull, and something's rising in my throat. My cold body breaks in a sweat.
I hear footsteps. I want to hide, but there's nowhere. Before I can concoct any other ideas, the door opens so slightly. "Hmm." The shadow from the door mumbles, spotting me curled up in a corner.
He emerges from the door, revealing a fleshy man in decorated white robes. He's much bigger than me, so any physical resistance may be pointless.
"The sole survivor from the recently forsaken village. Your flesh must be special." The man mused, approaching me with no hesitation.
"My flesh must be special? Is this one of your fucked up kinks?"
The fleshy man begins to massage his temple with one hand, the other resting on his hip. His posture appearing trained, and effortlessly elegant.
"Or so I've heard. Of the dozens of deceased Pisa village-folk, a young boy covered in blood and in a weakened state is the sole survivor!" He points to me.
Is he referring to the small village I was escorted from earlier?
I fold my arms, pressing into my belly trying to settle my stomach.
"Though all their corpses were unscathed, there was one part of them that was missing. Their hearts!" He places his hand on his chest. "But miraculously, you still have yours! Otherwise you'd be dead."
He mockingly whimpers as he drops to his knees, opening his arms.
"This must mean The God of the Spiritual Realm saved you. God saved you! So that means your flesh and blood is special!"
The man unbuttons his robes, his eyes never leaving my form. My body cringes before my mind could react
"I don't want this!" I yelp, but the man doesn't hesitate to begin crawling towards me.
I finally lose control over my stomach, vomiting on the floor in front of him, which only temporarily stops his motion.
Everything lately is moving so fast, too fast for me to handle. Not even just lately, the world has been moving fast against me my entire life. I've tried getting back onto my feet, but I never was given a chance. So I've given up every time something goes wrong. It's easier for me to deal with life that way. That's why I just feel like giving up, even if I know this man has sick intentions for me.
He's much closer than he was previously, to the point I can feel the warmth of his breath on my knees.
I try to stand, but my aching body is making it very difficult.
Despite everything, part of me always refuses to just let things go. I'm stuck in between hopeless and hopeful.
I begin compulsively itching my hair, the irritation never quite leaving despite my hands digging into my scalp.
My mind feels like it is breaking from a multitude of emotions.
A smirk begins to crack on the man's lips in response to my breakdown. I put up my hands and get into a fighting stance, having boxing experience from earlier in my life.
"I'll kill you!" I warn him, but this seems to egg him on, because shortly after he jumps on me.
I throw punches to his large gut, but even I can feel the emptiness of each impact.
He grabs my neck, spit falling from his lips onto my face as he grunts.
I can't break free.
Helpless. Helpless. Helpless. Helpless. Helpless. Helpless. Helpless…
The force of my punches begin dying down as my vision blurs. I try clawing at his arms, but to no avail.
Aside from the ringing and strain, my mind is clear asides from the lingering thought of regret. This is different than when my father tried killing me, because I felt sad for him.
Though right now, I can't stop thinking how guilty I feel losing my life after possibly being given another chance to live.
As my sensations begin to fade, I see a familiar, blinding light descending from the ceiling in my blurry vision.
As if I am free from the man's grasp, I reach for the light.
The next moment, the man's hands weren't as tight as they were before. I gasp for air, the ringing sounding off in my ear as I press my hands against my neck, stinging in pain.
The man's blood runs down a luminescent sword protruding through his chest, the hilt of the blade laying on mine.
His body lets out a "oof" before rolling over lifelessly.
As the adrenaline wears down, my body begins to ache more, and I begin to feel the corner of my lips twitching.
I'm laughing. I just killed someone, but I'm laughing? Am I sick?
I stood over the man, hurriedly pulling the sword out of the man.
Seeing the man's blood on my naked body made me cringe, so I took his bloodied robes.
The only difficulty I had leaving the brothel was navigating the halls. As for the old woman, I was tempted to kill her, but she saved me, even if she wanted to sell me off.
When she saw my bloodied form, her face went pale. She made a small squeal before locking herself into a room, calling for help.
Light poured onto my eyes as I stepped outside onto a bustling street.
The people, the vendors, the buildings, everything looked medieval. Except, some of the passersby had fluffy ears, and lizard faces, and…
"Blood!" A little girl across the street pointed at the blood streaking down the robes as she shrieked. Others began noticing too, either pacing away or calling for guards. I close my hand into a fist, tight enough to dig my nails into my palm.
I didn't think there would be people outside! Tsk, I don't have time to think, I need to get as far away from here as possible.
I ran blindly through alleyways until I couldn't hear any commotion. Finally, I have a moment to recollect. I begin to dry vomit as images from the brothel form once again.
I had to kill him, otherwise he would've hurt me…
My hair suddenly becomes very itchy, though my scratches do nothing to ease my scalp's irritation.
It's no good. I know that it was right to kill him, but was it really OK?
I look out into the opening of the somewhat narrow alley leading into a less-populated street.
I notice a group of hefty men with doggish features with white hair coating their entire bodies aside from the clothes covering the rest of it.
A vendor comes into vision after they all pass. The stall owner has sharp, hairy ears with a nose resembling a fox. Oddly enough, beside him is a small four-legged creature that appears to be the build of a dog but the features of a rabbit, if said rabbit had three eyes.
From my observations so far, this doesn't look like my home world, and although even I consider myself dull, I think it's fair to assume that I've been reincarnated similar to an isekai.
Though, if that's true, then that means my father really did kill me…
Although my stomach is beyond empty, it feels as if it's trying to find something to regurgitate. I press my arms against my belly, hoping to find comfort.
"That's an interesting sword you have there." My neck snaps towards the voice from my right.
A tall and lean man clad in armor stands alone at the entrance of the alley, his posture carefree.
As he steps closer, I lose all trust in my weak knees and remain seated on the alley's cobblestone path.
Just like our bodies know to breathe for us, or how we jump at loud noises or scary sights, something about him made my skin crawl.