“You’re at your most vulnerable when you sleep,” Notto notes. “It’s easier to take your life when you’re caught unaware.”
“Then I die in my sleep and will never know.”
“Or you’re taken while you weren’t conscious enough to prevent it, then tortured.”
“It’s a risk I’d still take. Sleeping is my sole reprieve from everything around me. It’s the only thing I look forward to every day.”
Notto doesn’t speak again, and before long, I’m sleeping once more. This time, I don’t wake up until what I presume is morning. Notto isn’t there.
NOTTO
Listen to what your monster tells you.
The first morning after bringing the human to the underground shelter, I watched him move around the space from the comfort of my recliner in the corner. I had a good vantage point of the gathering room as well as the kitchen, and I could peer into the rooms that I shared with Drystan and the one that Keary took.
Keary had gone out in the night while the human pet slept to bring back fresh meat and produce. I’m not sure where he got it from, though likely a nearby colony as I think we’re in the middle of three.
We all watched the human hobble his way to the bathroom where he remained locked inside for quite some time. Long enough that Keary was beginning to fidget. Then he came out in nothing but a towel.
Investigation showed that he’d taken a shower and hand-washed his clothing. I didn’t even see him bring in his pants, butthey’re definitely missing from the end of the couch now that I look.
He ignored us as he walked around in his towel and headed into the kitchen where he prepared everyone breakfast then began a stew to simmer on the stove. After that, he disappeared down the hall.
We found him in the gym, still clad in only a towel, working out. That was where he spent the majority of the day.
That’s how we spent three whole days. He doesn’t bother to get dressed, just wanders around with a towel wrapped around his waist.
I determine two things from this. One—he doesn’t know that there’s an entire wall of cabinets filled with clothing. Because Keary is enjoying the view, we don’t point this out. He’ll be irritated with us if we interrupt his gawking.
Two—the human pet is likely keeping his clean clothes for when he leaves the shelter. I understand the pleasure of putting on fresh clothes. If there’s one luxury I miss from home, it’s the constant access to clean clothing.
This morning begins no differently than the ones prior. I remain in my chair as I watch everyone else in the kitchen. Keary sits on a chair beside the table, while Drystan sits on the table with his legs curled under him. The human pet is at the stove, cooking more of the spoils Keary retrieved in the night while he slept.
There’s no conversation yet. The human seems to be favoring his injured leg, though we can all see a major improvement in the way he’s moving around. The anti-venom seems to be working well enough. That’s good to know.
I know it isn’t long before someone speaks. Even if it’s just Keary intentionally heckling the human.
“Eriva,” the human says. “That means divine, right?”
“I’m not sure if that’s actually what it means, but yes, it’s a house of divine monsters,” Keary answers.
The human looks over his shoulder at the two of them. “What are you?”
“I’m a god,” Keary says smugly.
The human doesn’t believe that answer.
“I am,” Keary insists. “Gods aren’t what humans think they are, though you’re allowed and definitely encouraged to worship me on your knees if you like.”
The human rolls his eyes at the same time I do. Can that be considered bonding?
“No, really,” Keary says. “I’m a god. I can’t be killed by conventional methods, and my magic is considered divine because it defies logic.”
“Magic, in general, defies logic,” the human says.
“That’s why it’s magic,” Drystan says.
“Magic is the word that humans use to describe the control we have over certain things. Monsters have simply adopted the word for easy communication,” Keary justifies.
