The need to protect myself had only increased after what I’d witnessed.

I needed to make myself valuable enough to not be discarded, loved enough so I wouldn’t join the pile of corpses I knew had to be disposed of somewhere in Zorad Tower.

I needed to belong and couldn’t wait for someone to create such a space for me, I needed to carve it with my hands, no matter if they bleed as I created it.

I felt terrified, I was spilling like ink down my hands, washed away down the drain, leaving someone I couldn’t recognize. I had this want to shut down everything, ignore my circumstances and just go back to my room, hoping that after I rested, I would feel like myself again.

If I continued to stay in the tower, what would remain of me?

I was tired and scared; however, at the same time, I felt oddly determined.

My goals had changed. I wouldn’t just wait and serve my sentence, I needed to escape from this hell aiming to change me in deplorable ways.

I tried to think everything would be fine as long as I escaped, ignoring the possibility my metamorphosis wasn’t due to the tower, but something grim and terrifying taking shape inside of me.

And I knew I couldn’t escape alone; brittle bones and hazy thoughts weren’t enough to break free.

I went to the 10th floor, searching for Terry, the one creating Ambers.

According to what Eva told me, the currency of the Tower was Ambers, and what better way to make yourself valuable, and approachable to others, if you had something valuable itself.

I wasn’t worried a deviant would try to attack me to steal the Ambers as I had asked Dauer some questions and his answers had been nothing but satisfactory.

The worst crime inside the tower wasn’t murder, it was thievery.

If someone stole an Amber from another deviant, then they were no longer trustworthy. No one would want to be with a person with grubby hands, not wanting to always be on their guard, wondering when their turn would come, and their goods would be stolen.

I went to the library, startled by the time the grandfather clock showed. It was the afternoon, and I couldn’t believe I had slept so long.

I asked Dauer how to activate my power, as I wanted to use them at least when I felt safe, so later I could when I felt threatened, and he said I only had to remember how they had felt and manifested it. After that, I didn’t question him anymore, knowing every answer he had given was truthful, merely by the fact that he wasn’t a deviant himself.

I realized I had no idea where Terry’s room was as I headed through the halls of the 10th floor, a place filled with doors and doors, not a way to guess where a specific deviant was. The doors were all the same, with the same swirls and colors in the wood.

“Excuse me,” I asked a deviant smoking a cigar, I guess she got it with favors of the guards, “Do you know where Terry’s room is?”

She took a huff of her cigar and through half-lidded eyes said, “There’s blood in your neck.”

I already was aware. That wasn’t the question.

Seeing the crease in my eyebrows, my frustration, she laughed. It was breathless, sort of seductive in a way and if I had met her outside of the tower, back in my village I would have been jealous of whoever had the charisma to hold a conversation with her.

“You’re the new gal?” She asked the same question many had before, and I was tired of hearing it.

“Yes. Could you tell me now where Terry’s room is?” After a pause, I added, “Please?”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” She said, throwing her cigar to the carpet and stomping it. This woman would cause a fire if she kept doing such things. “Follow me.”

She walked leisurely, with not a care in the world. She was acting as my lighthouse, showing me where I needed to go, and where I could be safe; however, the waves were rough, the ship too slow and the captain liked to make small talk when there was no need to.

“Seeing Terry for the first time?” She asked, not fastening her pace as I would’ve liked.

I hesitated on how I should answer; ultimately, I chose to say the things as they were. “Yeah. someone was going to show me the way to Terry’s room but...” He got bored of me and my silence, “at the end he didn’t.”

“Let me guess,” The woman pulled her hair in a ponytail and tied it with a scrunchie on her wrist. Seeing her neck from behind made my hands twitch, and I was appalled by my thoughts. “It was Lemberg, wasn’t it?”

“No,” I hid my hands in the pockets of my jumpsuit, hiding impulses I never experienced before. “It was Fuchs.”

“Fuchs, huh?” She made another turn, and we were met with another hall filled with more rooms. It seemed the 10th floor had more deviants. “I didn’t expect that, Lemberg always goes and wants to be the tour guide of this rotting place. How’s Fuchs by the way darling, does he still follow Chenevert around for everything?”

Chenevert? I suppose that’s Vert's actual name instead of what Fuchs always called him, with tenderness and the kind of sweetness that was too much to enjoy, sticky in uncomfortable ways.

“I think so. At least I haven’t seen him during nights.”

The woman stopped, turning around to face me. She wore an astonished expression; one I didn’t think suited her. “You’re in Chenverts’ room?” Her surprise turned to pity, “You poor thing.”

She didn’t elaborate further and continued walking without making sure I was following.

“Is he dangerous?” I asked. Don’t tell me I’d been in danger every time I breathed the same air as him.

“Chenevert? Not at all,” she said, dismay in her tone. As if the notion of Chenevert being anything but harmless was irrational. “He’s a sweet guy. I just don’t like the other dude in that room. He is too controlling for my taste, a red flag I you ask me.”

She suddenly stopped. I felt if I hadn’t slowed down in time, her antlers would’ve been ingrained in my skin, or nailed into my eyes, railing my vision useless—I could it by myself, although not purposely.

“We’ve arrived,” She said, putting her hand in a pocket. I tensed up, felt like my nerves were at their end and every sensation was crystal clear in a way only described as uncanny. Did she have a weapon in her pocket, ready to stab me since her antlers weren’t good enough to do the job?

She took out another cigar, lighting it up with a small flame combusted for the tip of her index.

I felt I was delusional.

“Just tell Terry, Lena sent you and he’ll give you a free Amber. You owe me a favor sweetie.” Lena winked, leaving me perplexed and not knowing whether I should feel offended, since she was only showing me a room, or grateful if her words were true, since Ambers was just what I needed, and I didn’t know if Terry would give me one or not.

With Lena’s assurance, I turned the knob of the door and was assaulted by air so cold, it was physically painful to breathe as if my lungs were being pierced by needles.

I wanted to say such a reaction was due to the temperature, so cold that when I let out my breath, mist came out from my mouth, or the paralyzing fear I felt was because of the man, who I assumed was Terry, standing in the middle of the room, with a scalpel in his hand and strange bottles to his sides cutting into a squirrel carcass, or maybe, the reason I was sweating buckets in what was like a winter field was all of the corpses of animals hanging on the walls, perched against any furniture, looking so full of life, even though they were clearly dead, with only some of their limbs present. I would also like to be sure this tremors running through my hands were the result of a similar portrait like the one in my room in Terry’s, the man resembling the master of the Treller Tower except for the eyes, giving the sensation it observed everything and no word escaped his vigilant ears or as if it was expected of me to wince, hearing the discordant hums, with no rhyme or reason, macabre in tone and disturbing in nature, unnaturally delightful coming from the man trapping animals in a state between life and death, forever being immortalized in displays.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Such reasons were simpler to admit; to deal with. However, they could not compare to the constant terror when I saw Dael, like I had unsteady footing, and was just at the edge of a chasm, frozen with cowardness, but at the same time hoping a kindred soul would do what I could not, and push me to my impending doom, as being eternally falling through the darkness would be better than the way every hair in my body screamed to bolt out of the room, to escape from the one who could crush my rationality with little to no effort.

She was sitting next to the table Terry was performing art to only his eyes, watching silently as she always did, with disinterest and tranquility, but at the same time with her all-knowing gaze that no one could ever dream to escape.

I gasped, and I regretted it as soon as the sound left my mouth. Dael's attention was on me. She sat like a doll, blinking slowly, with no almost no movement I would have thought she was part of the decoration of the room.

“Oh, what’s this? A little giant?” I didn’t notice when Terry got near me, too preoccupied to see anything but Dael. He put his hand against my shoulder, like an old friend, and peered into my face. There was this unknown emotion in his eyes I couldn’t distinguish lurking in his eyes; nevertheless, I absolutely knew it was savage and horrifying. “How can I help you?”

I fought the urge to tear his limb out of his torso and was surprised by these violent thoughts.

“Lena sent me,” I said, feeling how Terry’s gaze licked every inch of my skin. It was incredibly uncomfortable. “I want Ambers.”

I was direct with what I wanted, wishing to leave as soon as I could. I was in a tight rope, with the scorching hot look Terry sent my way and the cold one Dael sent seeping into my very bones.

“Lena did?” Terry’s features brightened, if I wasn’t in such a precarious situation, I would have thought he resembled a dog, thriving on any attention. Despite this, there was no tail wagging or ear twitching, Terry wasn’t a Demi-human. “She should have come in and stayed!”

I doubt anyone would want to be here, well, anybody except Dael apparently.

“Alright. A friend of a friend is my friend!” There was a child-like excitement behind his words, but they felt restrained.

He cupped my cheeks, turning my face side to side, while he kept on talking like there was nothing wrong with his behavior. “It’s your first time, little giant, so I’ll give a bundle for free. However,” He squished my cheeks, making them ache with his carelessness. “Next time you’ll give me something valuable will ya?”

His had left my shoulder, and I noticed they had left blood in the wake of his touch. For the first time, I thought its smell was enticing and felt my blood run cold, as much as the room I was in.

“Why don’t you sit next to El, while I worked, hmm?” He looked at Dael with the same intensity he observed me and I couldn’t believe how he wasn’t dead yet. “I’ll finish this, then I’ll help you.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, enduring these feelings wanting to consume me until there was nothing left.

I slowly walked towards Dael, there was a chair right next to her. With each step I took, I felt like I was walking to my death.

“Can I sit here?” I asked, maybe if she gave her permission, I could feel microscopely relieved, knowing I wasn’t going against her wishes.

Dael just watched me, then after seconds that felt like an eternity, she slowly nodded.

The had a cushion on top of it, but I felt like I was sitting on a metal spike, dreadfully waiting to be painted with color.

Terry continued humming, in a way it felt like my ears were going through a grater and a pounding headache manifested like an old friend, making my head their home.

I felt this kind of music would be the kind Dael would enjoy. From the corner of my eye, I watched her reaction. I wish I hadn’t.

Dael was watching me, always watched me when we were both in the same room. I fully focused on Terry, trying to wash away the sensation of being observed through a magnifying glass directly pointed to my soul.

It was better to just focus on Terry.

He skillfully made incisions wherever he saw fit, taking out the organs and observing them with such a reverent gaze, it was as if he was looking at the most valuable jewel. He sewn the insides of the corpse, with such delicacy and care, it was akin to the touch of a lover. From time to time, he would pour the viscous liquid contained in those strange bottles onto the carcass. I sat right in front of the head of the squirrel and felt its beady and lifeless eyes staring at me, it seemed resentful, and tragic at the fate it awaited during death, or at least I thought so.

The smell was unbearable, putrefying, and rotted away any sanity. Terry and Dael didn’t feel so, Dael, was as expressionless as ever, not registering anything, the only thing reflected in her pupils was me, and Terry, still humming melodies of death, with his ragged breathing, seemed to be in the best place in the world, with a blissful expression plastered in his face.

I closed my eyes, and wished with every fiber of my being, that my sense of smelt disappeared.

It didn’t, as I had no control over this useless power of mine, that only appeared when it felt like it.

“It’s done!” Terry exclaimed. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted with a scene only reserved for horror plays or books.

Terry was swinging around the rigid carcass of the squirrel, jumping around with an innocence fitting like a too-tight glove, the corners of his lips were turned upwards creating a too-wide smile, it almost reminded me of Lemberg, but it didn’t have the sickly sweetness of his, rather a unique bitterness of a man who played with the corpses of animals as if they were pets.

It was a unique, no, scratch that, a prepossessing sight. I’ve never seen such a beauty, such a passion, such uncontainable joy.

I felt a caress resting in my hand, and with a strain on my cheeks, I looked at Dael.

She was smiling, and it was the most beautiful thing in the world. Her eyes were still cold, however, that was of no importance, I wanted to forever be ingrained in her vision, be under her motherly gaze and never leave. I wanted to be tainted with her color, molded to her liking, so I could stay by her side until the end of time.

I wanted everything she had to offer me, every scrape she threw my way, any gaze, any smi—

No, There’s no way. I don’t want any of those things. My vision became blurry, and I didn’t understand what was happening. I yanked my hand and as soon as I stopped touching her I knew the transgression I had committed.

Oh shit, I—Please no, there was no beauty to the scene. It was just plain and simply horrifying. Why did I think it was beautiful? Why was I ready to give my everything to Dael? I didn’t like this place; I didn’t want to stay here.

I was appalled at my thoughts.

I felt I was feeling emotions that didn’t belong to me, they dragged my conscience to the backseat, and I controlled me, like I was a puppet tied to strings, and they moved me to a tempo of their liking.

I didn’t like Dael. I didn’t, I didn’t at all. I was scared of her, never ready to be hers.

I was changing, turning into the monster the common folk talked about, I was becoming the description of a deviant, a rough magician with no sanity left.

I wiped the desperation out of my face and saw Terry smiling at me with too many teeth. I was scared. it was gruesome. I didn’t know what to do.

“You got distracted there, little giant.” He brought his hands to mine. I felt cold pebbles pressing against my palm and noticed an orangish color, knowing Terry did as promised, and had given me an Amber. “Having too much fun with El?”

“No—” I chocked, “I just, I just….”

What was I thinking? why were my cheeks hurting so much that I felt them twitch?

“There’s no need to lie,” He laughed, searching for something in my face. “I can see you’re enjoying yourself; I like that! You have a beautiful smile, Right, El?”

Dael nodded, patting my shoulders. I almost puked at how warm it felt, how reassuring.

I wasn’t smiling. I just wasn’t.

I touched my cheeks and felt the corners of my lips. They were like a string pulled tight, ready to break at any given moment.

“Hey, do you want to stay?” Terry asked with an emotion that I could finally decipher. His eyes were crinkled and dancing with specks of joy.

“I—I’m sorry,” I needed to get out as soon as possible, “I’ll—I have to, I’m busy, is it—do you mind?”

I was losing myself, losing what made me myself. I was breaking apart, cracks appearing in my soul and filling with grief, mourning the loss of someone still standing, still moving, desperately shoveling to survive.

Fuck! The cat was shoveling to get out of its doom, but in the process, when the box was opened and all the dirt was cleaned, there wouldn’t be a cat inside it.

“No problem at all,” Terry said.

Unexpectedly, Dael stood up and did something I would never imagine.

She hugged me; and. was melting into her touch even if I didn’t want to.

With her head resting against my chest, and her arms around my back, I felt the warmth I’d always craved. I didn’t want to. My body wasn’t behaving as I wanted.

I franticly looked around, trying to ground myself. This wasn’t what I wanted; it was not the friendship I craved. I was in Terry’s room, a place that smelt like death, with a portrait that gawked at everything with the same expression, no change in its face.

Dael removed her arms, and I felt like crying, already missing her touch.

The words, please don’t stop, were stuck in my throat.

Terry, with his innocent eyes lurking with danger, and a cozy smile said: “We hope you’ll visit soon. I like you, little giant. I’m sure El does too.”

I remembered what Fuchs had once said about Terry and could see where he was coming from. I shared the same sentiment.

I feel he wants to dissect me

Since he gazed at me with the same passion, he held to all of the corpses scattered around his room