Cold Odyssey

Chapter Three.

Sweat trickles its way down the contours of your face as you pant, speeding off as far as your fatigued legs will take you.

Your gaze locks onto an abandoned house up ahead, now heading for it in search of shelter, and hopefully, safety.
The distance between you and the monster slowly closes in. Its taunting grunts and growls grow louder as it approaches, its sharp fingers reaching out for you.

Terror courses through your veins as a vine curls around your ankle, causing you to trip. Stumbling to your feet, you can't help but steal a glance at the monster.

A 7'0 tall, pitch black figure charged straight at you. You aren't sure how it's possible, but it seemed as if its body reflected zero light. Similar to a black hole. Its face held an unwavering grin, though it was not one of friendliness, but of menace. Narrow, glowing eyes which seemed to glare right through you.

The last thing you wanted to do was continue to look at this thing. Immediately turning back, you resumed your sprinting, heading for the house.

—

It appeared as if it had suffered from a terrible fire, though it stayed standing. Stained paint chips away from the walls, revealing tattered wood underneath. Its roof sags, burdened by the weight of time.

The air around this desolate home carries a feel of grief and heartache, but you just can't think of why that is.
Even as you take in the view, you don't stop running. That is, until someone's slim fingers suddenly curl around your arm and yank you aside with great force, dragging you into a large bush. A startled yelp rises out of you, which is quickly stifled by a strong hand clamping down on your quivering lips.

"Quiet." A low, commanding voice speaks urgently into your ear, cautioning against any audible noise.

You feel the urge to fight back and break free of this persons grip, but something tells you it may be better just to sit tight. Which is exactly what you do. This mystery person holds you firmly, their gaze trained on the beast, which passes by you two.

Thankfully, you go unnoticed.

Their grip around your body loosens as you stumble and step away.

You pivot yourself to look at whoever the hell this is, and find that it's only a young man. A sense of relief runs through you.

"Are you alright?" The man whispers concernedly. You
gave him a sharp nod, too frightened to even open your mouth. He takes ahold of you once more, his hand travelling down to and wrapping around your wrist. He crouches, guiding you to the ground with him. Quietly shuffling through the grass, his gaze flicks to you, searching for any possible injuries, before turning back to the house.

Both of you enter cautiously through a back door, the hinges creaking as you pass through. The houses interior was not surprising, to say the least, considering the decriept exterior. Every window was shattered, with sharp pieces of glass strewn haphazardly all across the wooden floor. It carried a heavy atmosphere, one enough to bring anyones mood down.

The man followed inside behind you. He brushed off any remnants of dirt on his tailored black suit, letting out a sharp sigh. His stuffs his hands into his pockets, his eyebrows raising as he examines you.

You pivot towards him, a million thoughts already popping into your mind.

"What's going on? Am I dead? Is this the afterlife? Where am I?" You unleash a barrage of questions, shooting them out like literal rapid fire.

"Woah!" He puts his hands up. "One question at a time."

His lips curl up to form a teasing grin. An amused expression stretches across and graces his features.
Your eyes narrow at him, clearly displeased with his obnoxious tone. You took in a heavy breath, deciding upon one of the trillions of quandaries in your head.

"Who are you?"

"Lucent Severight." He replies with a simplicity that matches his elegancy, holding out a nimble hand for you to shake. You stare down at his hand, reluctantly reaching out your own. Your fingers interlock in a firm shake before you pull away.

You glance around the house, taking in its decrepit appearance. Though, you quickly move your gaze back to him.

"Where am I?" Was your second question, one of the many you have in store.

The man lets out a deep breath in reply.
"I don't know myself." He admits, shrugging his shoulders.

Disappointment clouds your features, as you're still left without a clue of your whereabouts.

"What about... Helga? Or... Bartholomew?" He speaks up again.

You raise a brow.

"...Uh.. Pardon?"

"You haven't told me your name, so I'm making one for you. Hey, what do you think about Gilbert?" He emphasizes 'Gilbert' with a grin.

You can already feel yourself growing tired of him. Letting out a scoff, you give him your name.

"Oh, what a lovely name!"

You mumble, "Thank you."