𝟎𝟓. 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚

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     The air was cold outside

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     The air was cold outside. The chilling night wind brushes your skin, sending a prickling feeling to your core. Goosebumps decorate your bruised and damaged skin, reminding you of the rocky mountains back in Oregon. Folks were still ambling about on the streets of—what was this town called again? Ah, it's at the tip of your tongue. But you cannot remember it for the life of you.

     Sounds of town civilians chitchatting all pleasant-like and friendly reaches your ears, temporarily distracting you from your previous encounter with that foul-mouthed and greedy blondie who keeps on insisting you to give up the leftover bear meat that you were selling not too long ago.

     A sigh slips out of your lips

     A constant reminder to go back to Nana's house in the later morning repeats in your head like a witch's mantra. The thought of that old lady fussing and worrying about your absence makes you feel bad for her; a lump of guilt lays low in your stomach as if you've just consumed a boulder.

She went all the way to take care of your pitiful being and you paid her back by making her worry sick? Oh, the guilt is rising to your throat.

     You pathetically limped towards the inn of this town. It was like every other building; two stories and made of oak wood. Two windows were decorating the front of the building, and one of 'em was closed—you guessed someone already occupied it.

     The sound of a bell chiming alerts a figure standing behind a counter. Their body was hunched over as if they were some old cattleman tending to his cows. "Give me a second!" The person says.

     While he was busy doing his own business, your eyes flickered away and observed the room around you: A pot of plant, a rounded table with two seats, and a shelf full of dusty books. You wonder what sort of books does this innkeeper keeps on those shelves—Romance? Philosophy? Historical books? Suddenly, an unexpected urge to snatch one of them and open its contents lingers in your mind.

     'Right, I need a room.' You reminded yourself of why you were here in the first place.

     "Alright! Good evenin' sir! If you're lookin' for a place to stay then you've hit the jackpot since—good heavens! What happened to you!?" The inn owner gasped at the sight before him. The hideous sight of your pitiful, bloodied state sent a wave of shock towards his heart. It's like he's been greeted by the Grim Reaper.

A wave of self-consciousness suddenly shot you like a bullet. "Err," You noticed how splatters of dried blood had stuck all over you, "i just need a room to clean myself up, yeah? And give me some bandages or somethin' to stop the bleeding."

The innkeeper made quick work of giving you a room to stay in. He shouted out a name towards the stairs. "Matilda! Get down here and help this young man now!" The owner shouted with an annoyed tone. "Sorry, that girl is never ready on her feet. I always try to be patient with her but help me Lord I'm starting to lose it here!"

𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐑𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄, var!yandereWhere stories live. Discover now