52. Pocket Dimension (IV)

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( IV - B e r e a 1 0 0 % )

R O S A N N A' S P. O. V:

This area of the slums was considerably more different from where Isolade and I had come from. I'd long dropped Isolade and held her hand as I guided her through the various streets, stalls and paths on our way to Aunt Berea's house.

This area of the Slum was called 'The Scraps'. Lame name in my opinion. The difference between this area and the former is, though the humans here were dark, they were considerably stronger in ability and higher in status. And while the former hosted a bunch of evil weaklings, no one could casually offend a member of 'The Scraps'.

We moved through the dilapidated houses, under the scrutiny of many. It was unnerving, having a bunch of curious eyes stare at me and Isolade with inquisition.

I much preferred the earlier indifference. But I guess... The people here didn't experience much 'drama' as opposed to the area Isolade and I were in. So they tend to notice the little things, and were just cautious of me. Little Red rarely appeared in this neighborhood.

I stopped by a small but decent looking building, barely managing to keep hold of the small energetic seven years old. Isolade was hell bent on running about and grumbling about her lack of candies.

"Relax, girlie!" I exhaled. "I just want to greet Aunt Berea, and if you act very very obedient, we'll go back to get the candies."

"But you already promised!" Isolade whined.

"Yes, yes, and I will fulfil it. Be calm, okay? Trust me." I lied, setting my eyes elsewhere from the innocent girl's doe eyes. It should've been easier to lie to kids, but I found it offsetting deceiving such an innocent soul blatantly.

"Fine." The young girl huffed and agreed.

I let her hand free and walked towards the door of the house. Climbing a few stairs up, I neared the dark green wooden door. Then I placed a quick, yet urgent knock on the door.

Hearing no response, I knocked with more force and urgency. My antisocial cells on a rampant.

"Aunt Berea?" I called out.

I didn't feel like conversing with a stranger, didn't like the discomfort I faced, being in a completely different environment without a hint of familiarity. And definetely didn't feel safe interacting with someone who knows Little Red. I'm a bad actress, in all honesty.

And it would suck to get hanged on a cross with a bunch of people holding pitchforks and screaming, 'burn the witch!'. I should be the one screaming, not the other way around. Okay, I might be overthinking.

The door creaked open, and I was greeted with the image of a young woman in her early thirties. Beautiful, with alluring wavy green hair.

"Little Red?" The woman called out, little surprise in her feature but nevertheless showing a welcoming smile. She beckoned for both I and Isolade to come in, and her figure disappeared behind the door.

I stepped in with slight boldness and feigned calmness, Isolade bouncing in like the young mistress she is.

"Auntie...." I drawled, eyes shifting about to take in the simple design of the house.

"Yes?" Berea nodded, quirking a brow as she took a sit on the black chair.

"I think grandma tried to eat me." I mustered up the childish innocence in me, trying to portray it in my widened eyes as I peered at Berea with a wronged expression.

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