𝐄𝐤𝐤𝐨 | 𝐃𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕪 𝐋𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕝𝕖 𝐀𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕒𝕝𝕤

10. Places

Then, the sound of the door opening, broke the silence. My eyes flickered towards it, straining to see as the light from outside spilled into the room.
Someone entered— small, lithe, and bat-eared.
A Chirean Vastaya boy. His pointed ears twitched, and his golden eyes widened when he saw me staring back at him.
"She's awake!" He called over his shoulder, his voice quick and alarmed.

Before I could even pronounce an attempted word, he slipped back through the door, shutting it behind him with a soft thud.
My brows furrowed, confusion flooding my mind as I stared at the wooden door.
What the hell was going on?

The door didn't open again, for long enough minutes, leaving me stranded in my confusion.
She's awake.
Who was he talking to? And where was I?
I began thinking back about the boy with the bat ears— he looked barely older than a teenager, cautious, yet not cruel like Smeech or his gang.
I forced myself to move, testing my body, my limbs screaming in protest.
My fingertips twitched, then curled into the scratchy blanket covering me. Small victories.

Eventually, as I had managed to sit up and lean against the cold wall with what felt like a fatigue, the door creaked open again. This time, two sets of footsteps crossed the threshold.
My vision sharpened just enough to catch a glimpse of the first figure— tall, draped in mismatched cloth, but that same mask as ever.
Crafted with uncanny precision, white and angular, with dark lenses where the eyes should be. It was unsettling and yet... familiar.

The owl-masked boy stepped a few feet from the bed, his head tilted, studying me as always.
Beside him stood that bat-eater kid, fidgeting and shifting his weight like he couldn't stand still.
"She's awake, see?" The Vastaya said quickly, his voice lower, almost like he was worried about waking me further or something.
The masked prick I so much hated said nothing for a moment, simply watching me.
The silence pressed on my chest, a tension I couldn't shake.
Finally, he spoke, his voice even and soft but heavy with authority.
"You're lucky to be alive."

I blinked, my throat dry, but the words rasped out.
"What... is this place?"
Neither answered right away. Owl boy turned to the bat-eared kid, giving him a subtle nod. The Chirean left the room quickly, almost tripping over his own feet as he disappeared back through the door.
My only companion then stepped closer, my eyes tracking him warily, every muscle in my broken body screaming at me to either run or attack.
I couldn't do either.
"Don't panic," he added quietly, like he could read the hesitation stitched into my bones.
"You're somewhere safe."

Safe? That word meant nothing to me anymore.
I wanted to scoff, but all I managed was a rough exhale.
"You've been out for four days," he suddenly told me, his voice low and levelled, with that same clipped calm I'd heard from him before.
It made my chest tighten, like I couldn't quite breathe right.
"Four—?" I croaked, disbelief snapping me out of my haze. I stared at him as if he'd just smacked me across the face.
"Four days?"

"You heard me." He folded his arms, casual, like that was any other conversation.
"You were passed out when I found you. Half-dead, bleeding out in the middle of the street near Babette's."

Babette's. His words jolted through me, ripping open the memory of those shimmered-up freaks again, the claws digging into my skin.
"What happened to you?" He asked.
Not accusing, but not gentle either.
I looked away, staring at the cracked ceiling instead, the motion itself had me tense up in pain. His question sat heavy in the air, but my mouth felt like it was sewn shut.
Fingers curled weakly into the blanket.