Tasteful Darkness

Chapter 13

Balendin - Now

The house wasn't always abandoned. The woman who lived here died only fifty years ago. I met her once as I was passing by. She was younger back then and had just moved in. I was walking with no destination in mind when I noticed her struggling to carry a small desk. For a long while, I contemplated whether or not to keep moving. In the end, however, the part of me that has been influenced by humans won and I offered her my help.

"Thank you," she said, out of breath. "You have no idea how much I've had to carry around today. I'm Madeline."

I remember her being kind, even to me, some random young woman off the street. I wasn't used to it at first, and something inside me kept telling me that this wouldn't end well.

Thankfully, it was wrong.

I stayed with Madeline for hours that day and helped her unpack. She made the two of us tea and told me stories of her travels. She often asked me about myself, but I managed to steer the conversation back to her.

After that, I only visited her a few more times before her life faded with the millions of others.

I wasn't sure how to feel when I found out she died after overhearing some city gossip. I went back to her house that day and was surprised to see they were already moving out all of her things. The desk I helped her move caught my eye.

It was simple to steal, really. All I had to do was recognize the worker's patterns and notice when some of them went on break. Taking over their form and taking the desk back to my home was easy.

I brush a vine of ivory aside and read the number of the building with her last name etched underneath it. Memories of Madeline come flooding back and it makes me smile.

"Are we breaking and entering, by any chance?" Peter asks from behind me.

I take a moment longer to look at her name. "No," I tell him.

Not letting him ask any other questions, I press against the dirty metal. It pushes into the wall at my touch then pops out at the bottom. I carefully lift it up to reveal a small, carved out area in the wall decorated with cobwebs and scattering bugs. I reach in and grab the one thing not scurrying to get away from me.

"I have a key," I say, flipping it between my fingers.

Peter doesn't argue as I go to the front door and slide in the key. The lock still works surprisingly well even after so many years.

The door groans as I open it.

The inside looks as if it's frozen in time. They must not have finished moving everything out because the majority of the furniture still sits in the same place, only now everything is covered in dust and ivy.

Madeline loved plants, I remember that much. Without anyone to stop their growth, they've made the building their own. They weave over cupboards and wrap around the railing of the staircase like snakes up a branch.

"Woah," Peter breathes out from behind me.

"Sorry that it's not much warmer in here," I tell him as I make my way towards the staircase. I move vines out of the way with my foot and turn back to look at Peter. "This way."

I start up the stairs, but pause in the middle when I realize Peter isn't following me. I look down at him, surprised to see he isn't near the stairs at all. He's wandering around downstairs, leaving the entrance entirely. Furrowing my brow, I go down the stairs and come up behind him. I open my mouth to tell him to come with me, but the room in front of me renders me silent.

It's Madeline's living room—the one I spent so much time getting to know.

Nostalgia is still a foreign feeling to me. After spending so much time in the Overworld, I've gotten used to the fact that nothing lasts forever, but it's moments like these where I disagree.