“She belongs to none,” the crazy-man said angrily.
I took that as permission to sidestep again. No one stopped me. As soon as the massive two-toed feet disappeared from my peripheral, I lifted my head and walked away.
Behind me, the crazy-man let out a soul-tortured moan.
“That skin,” he breathed.
Crazy-man’s fascination with my skin worried me despite my effort to ignore it. What would he do if he realized I was real?
Trying for casual, I picked up my pace.
If I ever got home, I was never eating fried chicken again because that’s what I was picturing him wanting to do with my skin. Crisp it up and gobble it down.
A shudder ran through me once I left the creatures behind and fully submerged myself in the darkness.
I walked nonstop, the passing time marked by the increasing intensity of the sounds coming from my stomach. The unending number of doors I touched withered my hope to find one clearly labeled as an exit.
Pausing, I struggled to swallow past the dryness in my throat and reached for my back pocket to check the time on my phone. My palm brushed against the material of my skirt, and if I could have sworn, I would have. Very colorfully.
My feet hurt, my legs ached, and all of me was tired. I just needed a moment to rest and regroup. Once I rested, I’d feel better and hopefully have a better plan than wandering the dark aimlessly. But where was I supposed to rest? Trying a room without the light of my phone would be dangerous at best.
As I stood there, I spotted a faint glow interrupting the darkness ahead. It wasn’t the gradual brightness of an approaching monster with a torch but a pale strip of light coming from under a door.
Had I reached the end of the hall and turned right? I couldn’t remember. Maybe I did. Perhaps this was the same room I’d found the crazy guy in. If it was, I could let myself in, lock the door, push the skeleton off the bed, and get some sleep. Maybe I’d even find my phone again.
Please let there be a message from Eliana,I thought.
As quietly as possible, I tested the latch. The door opened soundlessly, and the scent of food hit me hard. My stomach cramped as I peeked inside and saw the source.
A feast table waited loaded with more food than I could hope to eat in a month. Loaves of rustic bread steamed on their trays as if fresh from the oven. Pies glistened with berries swimming in sauce. Hunks of roast surrounded by root vegetables waited on platters. Apples stacked in a pyramid had me swallowing thickly.
Amidst all the food, I spotted goblets and bottles. I needed something to drink more than I needed food. Yet, I hesitated to rush forward like I wanted to. For all I knew, the table was a trap.
I scanned the room. Other than the table mounded with food, two sets of torches mounted to the wall, and a set of wall-mounted chains dangled half hidden by the table, I didn’t see anything else.
Cautiously, I eased into the room and closed the door behind me.
The chains rattled and I silently groaned at my stupidity.
“Please,” a voice rasped. “Please allow me to eat.”
Heart pounding, I shifted my gaze to the floor and stepped to the side. From there, I could just see the man chained to the other end of the room. This one wasn’t skeletal. Tanned skin stretched over the lean muscles of his shirtless chest. Long strands of dark, greasy hair hung from his drooping head.
“I haven’t eaten in…I can’t remember.” He shook his head and weakly lifted it a few inches, just enough for me to glimpse his sunken cheeks and parched lips.
I glanced at the table and the fresh, steaming food. There was only one reason to lay out a feast before a starving man. Torture. The saying that any enemy of my enemy should be my friend rang through my head. But in this world, too many of the creatures were tricky.
“Please,” he begged thinly. “Any crumb will do.”
I echoed his sentiment and looked longingly at the table. I was hungry and thirsty, but in a strange place. Not all creatures ate the same foods that humans did. The last thing I wanted was to eat a loaf of bread made with anything other than flour, sugar, yeast, and water. And butter. I silently groaned at the thought of a piece of warm bread slathered with butter.
In order to eat or drink, I needed to know it was safe. In order to know if it was safe, I needed to know what was chained to the wall.
After removing an apple from the pile, I edged closer to the man. He didn’t lift his head or act aggressively in any way. But monsters typically didn’t until a person was close enough to grab. If he was waiting for that, he would be disappointed.
Gaging the distance and staying safely back, I held out the apple. He didn’t see it, though, until I lowered it into his line of sight. He weakly lifted his head a few inches before he jerked upright and his gaze locked with mine.
Fear slithered through me. I wanted to move, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything.
