"I'm in a loop." Emil finally said as the wind flows so rapidly, removing the branches and leaves stuck between his blonde mousy hair. He straightened his maroon jumper and wiped the mud off his shoes. "No wonder everything changed. I'm safe at last." He's been running away from something dangerous. He erased the thought and held on his crucial notebook.
As a peculiar, he checked for a home, especially with an ymbryne. To protect him. To guide him. He's been all alone since he escaped. The monsters who destroyed his home and killed his friends. But he cannot search for anything properly in these squalid towers of bricks.
He started to check every still and very silent and eerie houses. No one. The folk of the village are nowhere to be found. He scavenged for food, water, and people, and as he hunts for more, he suddenly encountered a scruffy woman who is slumped in a couch, sleeping, or is she? Besides an active fountain, raining nothing but water with garbage.Curious, he thought. Why would someone put a couch outside? He knows very much that she's peculiar, but she seems dead.
He entered a red-bricked house with red tiles and smell of the dead. He entered a huge room, filled with cribs, and music boxes. He stared down and saw familiar shapes. A star, the precious, three circles for the sacrifices, and a huge triangle, for its shield. The ritual of the vitch, Miss Swallow warned. And he immediately left the room.
"Hello, child? Are you hungry?" he turned around. And saw the sleeping lady who was on the couch. She is hiding behind the bannister, making a very unusual pose.
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"Er- I'm not." He lied and gulped. He wishes he can swallow his fear. "Are you a peculiar? Is there an ymbryne in here somewhere?"
"I am!" hissing to Emil. "Well, only loop keepers work the loop, child."
"Ca-can I have a word with her?" the loop and lady started to frighten him a bit.
"You are already! Me child, me!" and he saw her eyes, chalk white, with a triangle for its pupils. Her clothes, made of dark mahogany leather rags, complementing her bracelet, a small rusty chain, and red shells.
"Uh-uh-uh are you a vitch?" he stuttered as he asked.
"I think you saw my magnificent room. I am. I am a vitch! And a very vicious one! And consider this a warning. I'm coming back to my world. Our world. The world we, vitches built. And there'll be no peculiar left. You can run, but I can still catch you. You can run, but I can still destroy you!"
And it snapped and he sprinted away, past the houses, the fountain, and into the loop, but instead of going back, he tripped, by a rope, glowing shade of blood. And he thought to himself that he's stuck. And never going back. He crumpled his book and wishes for tomorrow.
