The Garden of Decay

Chapter 3

(Y/N) lay on the cot, her body sinking into the thin mattress as exhaustion pulled at her limbs. The dull ache in her shoulder had subsided, soothed by whatever ointment Elias had applied, but the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on her chest. She stared at the ceiling, the soft glow of the afternoon filtering in through the small window, casting shadows that danced across the wooden walls. The stillness of the room was unsettling, a stark contrast to the chaos she had barely escaped.

Her mind drifted, replaying the moments that had led her here. The chase through the forest, the terror of the undead closing in, the mysterious sanctuary of the Garden appearing like a mirage in the wilderness. And then there was Thorne — cold, distant, and unreadable. His presence lingered in her thoughts, unsettling her. He had saved her life, yet there was something about him that felt... off. She wasn't sure if it was distrust or simply the strange atmosphere of this place, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was still in danger, even here.

A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She sat up slowly, wincing as her shoulder protested the movement. The door creaked open, and Elias stepped inside, his expression as calm and gentle as before.

"Lucien's ready to meet you," he said quietly, his green eyes flicking to her bandaged shoulder. "Are you feeling up to it?"

(Y/N) swallowed, her heart quickening slightly at the mention of the leader's name. She wasn't sure what to expect — her mind conjured images of a stern, imposing figure. But there was no way to avoid this meeting. She nodded and rose to her feet, steadying herself as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Elias was at her side instantly, his hand hovering near her arm as if ready to catch her should she stumble.

"Take it slow," he advised. "Lucien's patient. There's no rush."

She offered him a small, grateful smile and followed him out of the cabin. The fresh air hit her immediately, a cool breeze carrying the scent of flowers and earth. It was strange how peaceful it was here, as though the horrors of the outside world couldn't penetrate the thick walls of greenery that enclosed the Garden.

Elias led her down a winding path, the soft rustle of leaves the only sound accompanying their footsteps. (Y/N) couldn't help but glance around, taking in more of her surroundings now that she wasn't running for her life. The Garden was beautiful in an almost unnatural way — the flowers too vibrant, the grass too lush, the silence too deep. It was as if this place existed outside of reality, untouched by the decay and ruin that had overtaken the rest of the world.

As they walked, she noticed a few other residents of the Garden — men and women tending to plants or moving supplies. They glanced at her briefly, their expressions polite but distant, before turning back to their tasks. It struck her how orderly everything seemed, like a well-oiled machine running quietly beneath the surface.

Elias stopped in front of a larger structure, its walls partially hidden by vines and flowering plants that seemed to grow with a mind of their own. He turned to her, his expression softening with a hint of reassurance.

"Lucien's inside," he said, gesturing to the door. "He'll explain more about the Garden. Just... be honest with him. He'll know if you're holding back."

(Y/N) blinked at that, a shiver running down her spine. The way Elias said it, so casually, unsettled her. But she nodded, squaring her shoulders as she stepped toward the door. Whatever Lucien wanted from her, she would have to face it head-on.

The door creaked open with a gentle push, and she stepped into a room bathed in warm, golden light. It was larger than the cabin Elias had brought her to earlier, more refined. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books, trinkets, and small glass jars filled with strange, preserved plants. A large window overlooked the Garden, the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the wooden floor. And in the center of the room, seated behind a simple desk, was Lucien.