A few hours before the barrier collapsed.

Rokah wasn’t focusing on the conversation. He occasionally pretended that he was drinking from the goblet and sometimes he gave a nod or smile to indicate that he agrees with them. Not one of his companions noticed Rokah's self detachment from the present moment or noted his awkward reactions. As for him, he was wallowing in pity, grief, and hopelessness, incapable of bringing himself to decide.

In solitude, like a single tree stem in the cold desert, he attempted to voice what was on his mind. Yet once more, he held himself back.

Perhaps an implied approach will serve his cause better.

Bring attention to himself. He used the spoon to tap on the empty glass. It was successful as everyone around the table looked at him. He used this opportunity and stood to talk in a loud voice:

"Life here became dangerous. Why won't we leave this place? Why won't we build another village in another place to live there?"

The confused glances that showered him made him a bit anxious because he never liked to be the center of attention. Nevertheless, he used this unwelcome attention to advance his agenda:

"What if our lord let that beast kill us and feed on our bodies on purpose? I mean that there were a lot of victims, but he didn't do a thing to find out the whereabouts of this killer?"

Everybody was stoned, silent, and gave him the look of what this mad person is saying.

The flame of the doubts worked her way into Rokah's heart and rendered it black. Mr. Hendrickson was right. That's why he wasn't afraid when Rokah challenged him to reveal the truth to the resident.

Those creatures were manipulated from birth, they were purposely conditioned to be ignorant, lived in a perfect lie. Will they believe him?

One of them said: "The chief promised us that this matter is going to be a top priority. He even invited a special guest to help him. What more can we ask for?"

Yet Rokah said again: "No, I am just wondering if maybe our lord had sold our lives to this killer. That's why he didn't do anything from the start."

Everyone was shouting: "It's impossible." "No, what he is talking about, there is no way our Lord is going to do something like that."

Rokah understood that it is hopeless to get blood from a stone. Thus, he tried another approach, not for the sake of making justice for those mongrels, but he just hated the idea that everything is going as Mr. Hendrickson predicted: "What if those guests will betray our Lord, and they will kill us all?"

A wave of laughter followed the doctor's theory. Some of them thanked him for these jokes despite that he was a bad entertainer.

Rokah returned to his seat and said after much pondering: "Why don't we just leave this village?"

Then one of them asked: "doctor you want to leave?"

"You never dreamed of going outside and seeing the world?"

"No, the outside world is dangerous, cruel, especially for us mongrels. No one had returned after they get out, besides, we are blessed here and this is the place where we have born and it will be where we are going to live." and another one said: "Hah, You must be drunk, who thought that you will be a bad entertainer when you are drunk. But today, enjoy yourself as much as you can."

The lips and tongue move with confidence, narrating the epic story of the manifestation. Saliva’s drizzle dropped like rain. How magnificent they were and how marvelous it was in their solidarity. Their insolence reached a degree of fear over what a wise man can call recklessness when one of them declared that they need to reunite and help the lord to chase and kill the monster Aractanthrope.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Rokah previously wondered many times what their reaction will be if they know the truth. However, now he confirmed Mr. Hendrickson's prediction that he will need a lifetime to convince them of the truth and maybe it won't be enough.

When the last glass of beer was emptied, Rokah volunteered to replenish it. He carried the bottle and walked toward the kitchen. He made sure that no one was looking at him before he added a white powder to the liquor container. Murmuring between his lips: "don't think that I will let things simply go your way. "He waited a moment, so the powder will sufficiently get mixed, then he refilled the bottle.

He placed the filled bottle on the table and said: "Thank you for inviting me, my stay end here. I am tired and I Have a lot of work to complete."

One of them held his glass high and shoot: "we will invite you again when we kill the monster…"

Red face, clumsy motion, he was drunk. All of them were drunk. Maybe that's why they didn't notice anything, even when Rokah stated that he will never meet with them again and sealed his last words with one of his dead smiles.

Outside, it was calm and empty. The smell of spring tickled the sensors on Rokah's skin and somehow it was warmer than usual.

What a beautiful day tomorrow is going to be. Perhaps The spring will bring a new beginning for this village and have mercy on its residents.

In the end, playing a hero was just not his style, he thought, neither it was his objective.

A world where all the odds against you don't give you much of a choice.

It was the time of his departure.

***

One hand on the doorknob and Rokah felt threatened. It made his senses return from their temporary slumber and the sentimentality of goodbye. When he unlocked the door, the scent of liquor washed away the lasting fragrance of objurgation over this village and its residents.

What could be the source of this smell? He didn't drink and never bring alcohol to his room. Was it the Aractanthrope giving him one last visit?

Still, he pushed through the door and got in.

Nothing was wrong in the room, the floor was soiled with alcohol. Then it hit him like lightning the familiar voice accompanied by the weak sound of two hands clapping on each other "excellent, it took me a long time to figure it out, the one who was behind this chaos, well that's because I didn't expect this from you. I wonder what did you gain from this apart from inciting my anger."

Rokah kept his silence right, and he didn't show an objection when the lady entered his room and locked the door.

Rokah didn't want to meet her gaze. He kept his eyes low toward the floor, searching for her face reflection on the spilled alcohol. But when he stumbled on the pale yellow eyes glaring at him through the reflection, he shied to look at all.

He wished that she will start this unavoidable conversation as soon as possible, so he could be liberated from this suffocating pressure.

As if his wish to get fulfilled, Savannah said while she walked to inspect the incomplete canvas: "Then what is your side of the story? Why did you cause this mess in the village?"

She waited for an answer while keeping herself busy inspecting the unfinished painting. A scent of burned papers took a source from where Rokah was standing, played with her attention. She concluded that maybe he was incinerating leaves.

Her patient run off when she didn't get her answer, thus she nodded to him: "If you don't tell me, I will find myself obligated to take action based on what I understood from the situation."

The unfinished painting was depicting a gloomy air, a headstone in a cemetery, and someone - unfinished shadow - was kneeling in front of the headstone. Beneath it emerged a climbing plant with a white flower. Savannah was unable to fathom the symbolism behind this painting. But she somehow made her remember the painting that was drawn to her. She never doubted that this one will be just like the other, gloomy and full of symbolism.

"You want to kill the Kerit that much?"

"..."

"I will not take this personally. But I am not going to tolerate another act of disobedience. Or tolerate another mess. If you are going to play cat and mouse with the kerit, do it after you have finished your work and."

Savannah stopped, then took a long gaze before she added. "I won't get satisfied by cutting off our agreement, you understand what I mean, right!" her tone was threatening and angrily, "Do not expect that this act going to pass without penalty."

However, her mind was occupied by something else, something urgent and unforeseen. And maybe that’s why she didn’t give much thought to her informer's true intention behind the mess he had stirred in the village. She only wanted to intimidate him for now, then deal with him later. After she gets some medicines to surpass the Amarok's unexpected transformation before her mouth, the Count or anyone from the main house will notice his presence.

Alone in that small room, Rokah was left to drown in the solitude of the darkness. Victim to his nightmares and the ghost of his melancholic thoughts. The pressure on his ribs was heavier than any rock, but his heart was set straight on his goal of leaving this cursed place at once and for all.