"Henry, are you okay?"
Elena asked as she sat naked next to Henry, who was naked as well on the bed. She was getting ready to sleep. Henry sat there, staring at the sheets beneath him in deep thought.
"Yeah, I'm totally fine."
He smiled faintly as he snapped back to reality, but suddenly he felt his cheek getting pinched—not painfully, but firmly.
"Ow, Elena. Why would you do that?"
He glanced at her fondly.
"Henry, I know you enough to know that you're not totally fine. Now tell me before I bite you."
She giggled softly, yet she was concerned about her husband.
Henry stared at the sheets again. He stayed silent. He opened his mouth hesitantly as if to say something, but shut it back. The sound of wind and dogs barking outside could be heard clearly, almost too loud. The sound of their combined breathing was tense.
"It's just that… I don't know… I feel like I'm not enough… Like I'm not providing enough…"
Henry muttered, his voice cracking with helplessness.
"Henry… darling, I never thought of you like that… You're always doing a lot for us."
Elena tried to comfort him, her voice soft as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Elena, just—"
He shut his mouth tight before saying another word. He got up from the bed silently.
"I'm going to sleep on the couch… Good night, Elena."
He stated, his voice less gentle than normal, before exiting the room.
Elena sat there in silence. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye before turning off the bedside lamp.
"Elena… where are you? It hurts…"
Henry muttered as he limped through the hallways, leaving a trail of blood behind, navigating through the fog blindly. The sound of his limping echoed through the foggy hallway.
"Is this hallway ever going to end?"
His thoughts were cut off when he saw something small glowing on the floor just beneath him. Something about it was oddly attractive, making him reach down to grab it.
"What is that? Can this place get any weirder?"
He grabbed it before limping to a wall, sliding against it to the ground in pain. He checked the glowing thing.
As soon as he looked at it clearly, it stopped glowing.
"What the hell?"
He asked in confusion and shock.
It was a tongue. A cut-off tongue, yet it was still somehow attractive to Henry. It smelled good.
"A tongue, hm?"
Henry checked it from all angles before putting it in his mouth, eating it.
He didn't puke or spit it out. He simply chewed on it happily.
"It tashtesh sho good…"
he said as he was chewing before swallowing.
After swallowing, he felt a lot better. The pain in his bloody leg was gone.
He tried to stand up. He was perfectly fine. No need for limping anymore. He started walking again.
"What was that? I don't even want to think about it…"
After a while, he found a staircase going to the floor below.
"Oh, stairs finally."
He quickly went down the stairs. With each step, it got colder, more foggy. Henry almost tripped and fell down the stairs but quickly regained balance, the sound echoing.
"It's cold, but why…"
he whispered in confusion, finally reaching the new floor.
"What? A bar?"
It was a long, seemingly endless bar, with cozy lights, drinks and cups, chairs and tables—but nobody was there.
"That's new. I don't recall seeing a bar here before."
He kept looking at it in surprise before walking toward it, jumping over the counter efficiently. He grabbed a whiskey bottle.
"That one… It's expensive."
He served himself a glass, jumping over the counter again and sitting on a chair, grabbing his whiskey glass.
He took a slow, small sip, putting the glass down before resting his head on the counter.
"Am I crazy? Is everything here just my hallucinations…? I don't think so. I'm not crazy… I'm sure of that… I think."
He talked to himself, his voice exhausted. He sighed deeply.
"I need to find Elena and get out of this place… I want to lay in her arms as she plays with my hair like she always does. I want to hug her from behind as she cooks. I want to share my food with her. She loves spicy food, so I often gave her my share."
He kept talking to himself, trying to accompany himself in this foggy hotel. He took another sip, reminiscing about the past.
"Can't find her?"
The sound came from the side, next to Henry.
Henry shot up straight on the chair, his head snapping to the side in alert.
It was a man, sitting on the chair next to him, drinking the same drink as Henry. He had a smirk on his face, a fancy haircut and clothes. He smelled really well. His tone was degrading.
"Who are you?"
Henry asked in confusion and shock.
"I'm Harry. What about you?"
He asked, smirking before sipping from his drink.
"I'm Henry."
Henry answered quickly, his body relaxing a little before sipping from his own drink.
"What happened here? Who are you? What are these monsters?"
Henry kept asking, question after question, confused, his hand shaking a little.
"Henry, I told you already. I'm Harry. I'm the bartender here."
He chuckled to himself.
"How about you stop asking questions and just let me do the talking, hm?"
He indirectly ordered, sipping from his drink. It was almost finished.
Henry stayed quiet, sipping from his drink as well.
"Why are you here, Henry?"
Harry asked calmly.
"My wife, Elena. I'm looking for her. Have you seen her?"
Henry's hands started trembling slightly. Harry noticed.
"Elena, eh? No, I haven't seen anyone here. She's not on this floor. Probably down."
Harry answered carelessly, sipping from his drink and finishing it. Their talking echoed through the endless bar and hallway.
"Oh… I see. It's relieving finding someone else other than me here."
Henry muttered, his expression dropping. He finished his drink and stood up. Harry stayed silent at that.
"Alright. I should get going. Gotta find Elena."
Henry said, resigned, and started walking.
"Henry, I can tell you where the exit is, but I'm afraid Elena won't be with you. Just let her go."
Harry's semi-playful and warm tone was now replaced by a serious one.
Henry turned around to stare at Harry. He stayed silent.
"No. Thank you, Harry. But Elena is my wife. My responsibility."
His tone was firm yet understanding. He turned around and left, his steps echoing, lights buzzing.
Harry stayed silent, staring at his empty glass, frustration building up inside.
He whispered to himself, not loud enough for Henry to hear:
"Okay, Henry. Until we meet again… deep below."