What’s up Doc? Well, not much. Just the continuation of the previous chapter.

I thought for once I could just put some ambiance music suitable for the chapter. Feel free to listen while reading, if your device enables you to do so.

Spoiler :

And remember, be kind to the elderly, even if they annoy you. You never know which ones are the overpowered archmages ready to atomize your head for making fun of their Parkinson.

PS: If anyone didn’t see Neiden’s comment on the previous chapter, go check out Erma, a comic by Brandon J. Santiago. It’s cute, funny and disturbing. Just remember that on Deviantart, the older posts are at the end of the list. So that you won’t end up reading the latest chapter first, like I did.

Here’s a “fake movie trailer” for Erma.

Spoiler :

http%3a%2f%2fimg10.deviantart.net%2fdc0b%2fi%2f2015%2f...8i7mrx.jpg [http://img10.deviantart.net/dc0b/i/2015/046/b/e/erma_fake_movie_trailer_by_bjsinc-d8i7mrx.jpg]

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Chapter 4: Beyond the Mist

~ Part 4: Is this the point when you ask me to wear green eyeglasses? ~

Awkwaaaaaaard.

I’m not sure for how long the Elder has been staring at me. But it’s getting reeeeally uncomfortable. Of course, demonstrating my acting skills, I have carefully averted my gaze, cleared my throat and am currently whistling inconspicuously.

“Fuuu-fuu~ fufufuuu~ fuuu~”

Very inconspicuous.

*jiiiiiiii*

*sweat*

…But, somehow, I don’t think he’s buying it.

HOW?!? My performance was flawless!

Trying very hard not to look at the old man – or the mountain, since I don’t want to relapse – my gaze eventually lands on the village behind us.

We’ve passed the last house a short while ago. The magical fence actually encompasses not only the hamlet but also a large band of land that separates it from the mountain. The ground slopes gently upwards until it reaches the green cliff. Thus we are now standing near the top of a small hill overlooking Kansas.

From this upper viewpoint, I can once again confirm the glorious expense of the clearing housing the small cluster of wooden houses. The size of it really is outrageous.

Yet, compared to the encircling trice centenarian trees, huge, imposing and shrouded in mist, the village and its surroundings look like a miniature garden of fairies. A haven isolated from the world, safe from its dangers.

I wonder for how long this place has been this way. Since the curse struck the country? Longer? There should be issues with such a small community living in full autarky for several centuries, right?

A movement downhill catches my attention, interrupting my musing. A pair of eyes topped by twin-tails is peeking out from behind a nearby bush. When my gaze passes upon it, the creature quickly dives down. Since the creature isn’t hostile, I pretend I haven’t noticed anything. Dorothy’s stealth skills could still use a little work, but she’s only eight after all. Maybe, later, I could teach her a thing or two about sneaking up on people.

That should be fun.

With a quiet indulgent scoff, I look back to my side, only to be surprised by the lack of Elder.

“Where did that guy…”

I turn a searching gaze in direction of the mountain – and firmly resist the temptation of letting its magnificence of potential mischief sweep my focus away – and finally spot the elderly slowpoke. I also notice the small grove growing at the very top of the hill. There is a small log cabin standing in the shade of the trees, even shabbier than the other already humble habitations of Kansas.

The old man sluggishly hobbles inside, and I’m left alone, standing awkwardly and staring at the flapping dirt-solid curtain that serves of door to the unpretentious abode. I’m not sure if I’m supposed to follow him in. He didn’t say anything, and the cabin really is small. I don’t think we’d both fit in.

My worries quickly prove pointless though, when the old man comes back out holding a pair of thin flat cushions.

He drops them to the ground and sits down laboriously on one them, groaning every inch of the way. I rush to his side and help him down. It’s a bit of a reflex. I’m a nice guy. I really am. I just don’t like doing things for people who could do them by themselves. And sometimes I’m just lazy.

With a good-natured smile, the Elder wordlessly pats the other cushion, inviting me to join him on the ground.

Before accepting, I use the game’s unequip function to switch my heavy silver armour with a more convenient cloth white shirt and a pair brown pants – beginner gear of sentimental value. In response to my fashionly display, a muffled gasp rises from a nearby conspicuous bush. I chuckle and let myself down beside the old man.

Contrary to many other games, NPCs in Untold Tales aren’t designed to remain oblivious to the player’s abilities and quirks. In the Tame Zone, where the player density is much higher, the locals have grown accustomed to things like our odd sleeping patterns, functional immortality, and the inventory. Here in the backwoods however, I can still get some interesting reactions by simply “materialising” items out of thin air.

During my travels, I often put up shows for children in the villages of the Wild. Doing tricks. Handing out gifts. Little things. I kind of like making children laugh.

I dress as Santa of course. The NPCs don’t get the joke. But I do, which is all that matters and gives me a good reason to be jolly. I even have a little hand-bell that gives a healing buff to anyone who hears it… and which might or might not be the sacred relic of a prominent goddess.

I wonder if that counts as blasphemy.

It likely does.

I make a mental note to “materialize” a small gift for Dorothy later. I’m getting a little short on toys, like everything else, but I still possess one stuffed animal of my own confection that I hope the little Kansan girl will like.

The Elder, on the other hand, only smiles when my clothes change.

“That is one nifty trick you got there, young one,” he says.

“I won’t deny it.”

“Are you a practitioner of Space Magic?”

“I dabble, but that’s not it,” I remain evasive. Laying all your cards down from the get go is no fun. And a terrible tactic at poker.

You are terrible at poker.

I know.

“I thought so… The old man strokes his chin, like caressing an inexistent beard.

I noticed a slight shake in his hand, yet his voice is strong, clear – and a little amused – when he continues: “Well, it is of no importance. Keep your secrets, young one. Everyone is entitled to have some… And I do not believe you have any ill intentions towards the people of this village.”

“I don’t,” I confirm. And it’s true too. Any harm that might befall those people at my hand would be purely accidental.

The Elder falls silent for a short while, then casts me an appraising look.

“You seem like a lad who enjoys wandering.”

“I like discovering new things,” I answer simply, trying to figure out where this line of conversation is going.

“Then how long do you plan to remain in this village?”

What an odd question to lead with. Is he trying to subtly tell me I should leave? Or is there something he’d like me to do and would require some time? He’s difficult to read. His expressions are all layered like he’s thinking a dozen things at the same time.

“I’m not really sure…” I reply testily. “I have no fixed plan. I’ll stay as long as you’d let me? …Or until I get bored I suppose.”

Which isn’t going to happen any time soon, I add for myself. Not with the magical equivalent of a nuclear fusion power plant sitting less than twenty metres away from me.

Don’t smirk, Elric. Don’t smirk. Poker face, remember?

Also remember you suck at poker.

Shhhh.

Oblivious to my usual mental dialogue, my wrinkled interlocutor nods slowly, as if he’d expected the answer.

“Indeed. You do not appear a lad to plan much beforehand.”

“Hey! That’s not tru– …No. You’re probably right,” I admit, incapable of honestly pleading my case.

What can I say? I’m a spontaneous person.

“Well, I did intend to leave the country for a while. I’m a bit weary of fighting undead,” I amend with a shrug. “But since I found this safe and pleasant place... Would you… Would you mind if I stay here a bit?”

My inquiry causes more wiseful nodding from the man.

“This little hamlet of ours indeed is a pleasant haven…”

He glances up at the slowly darkening sky, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Undead, uh? It’s been going on for a while, hasn’t it? This might become a problem…”

I don’t think he’s still talking to me. He looks lost in thoughts.

Then he sighs and shakes his head, seeming to suddenly remember my existence.

“Oh. But no… No, of course, feel free to stay as long as you desire. Some entertai… err…”

I heard that.

“I mean, some new blood is always welcomed. In truth…”

A pause for the suspense.

“…there is a small matter that has been troubling me as of late. Would you hear me out, young adventurer?”

*ting*

Wild QUEST FLAG appeared!

What do you do? FIGHT INVENTORY ELDER BALL RUN

…Of course, such a window didn’t appear.

I ignore my overactive imagination and take some time to silently stare at the Elder, who patiently returns my gaze. Mentally I sigh.

So it’s “young adventurer” now, hum?

Bah! Typical NPC. First they try to kill you, then as soon as you show them you’re not here to rape their houses or burn their wives, they shamelessly start kissing your ass and try to push random jobs on you.

Well, it is a game in the end, even with how real it looks. Not much would happen if the locals didn’t hand over quests.

That doesn’t entitle them to be rude.

Perhaps. But I ain’t gonna turn my back to a potential quest.

Didn’t say you should. I was just pointing out NPCs could stand to learn some manners.

Point taken. Now if you’ll excuse me?

Sure. Knock yourself out. But please avoid to do it literally this time?

Ha-Ha-hah…

Inwardly rolling my eyes, I flash the old man my best business smile. I’ve been told I’ve got a very engaging business smile.

I think the exact terms were “suspicious” and “creepy”.

Shush, will you.

“What can I do for you, Elder?”

The geriatric grins back broadly, showcasing his own toothpaste commercial, four teeth short of a full set.

“I knew you would not turn down this powerless old man’s request.”

He is a powerless old man?

Yeah. Sure. And my bottom served with maple syrup?

The retort is just on the tip of my tong, but I hold it in. I have decided to play it subtle this time.

…Well, as subtle as I’m capable of.

….……Well, not too blatantly.

………………Well, I’ll do what I can.

Fail, most likely.

Will you shut up?!

Though I think that. My incredulously raised eyebrow must indeed be pretty showy, because the “inoffensive” grandpa immediately follows up by lifting a talon – hand – in appeasement.

“Do not worry, young adventurer. I assure you this request is in no way too difficult. Although I would not call it easy either, but certainly it will not be dangerous. Most likely...”

As I continue to wordlessly stare at him, he glances at a nearby bush, which is now suspiciously snoring, before asking in a lowered his voice: “What do you think of Dorothy?”

My answer comes instantaneously.

“I’m not marrying an eight-years-old.”

“…”

“…”

There is a slight awkward pause.

The old man is the first to recover.

“I believe your thoughts pattern will never ceases to fascinate me…”

“I try my best.” I tip my head at the praise.

…

……

………

It was a praise, right?

The Elder gives me an odd look. “In any case… I was not about to request you to marry her, young one. I just wish for you to look after the little bit for some time.”

“Sorry. I jumped to conclusion,” I apologise.

“No hard feelings. My poor choice of words was misleading.” He frowns, as if recalling dark memories. It’s the first time I’ve seen him lose that half-grin of his. “...I should know better than risk to cause misunderstandings.”

Then he shakes his head and the moment passes.

I am a bit perplexed, but abstain from commenting. I nevertheless store that bit about misunderstandings in my mind, inside a fast growing folder labelled “The fishy village of Kansas and its even fishier Elder”. For now however I postpone examine the evidence and concentrate on contemplating the old man’s request.

Babysitting, is it? It’s been a while since I’ve done something like that. Not exactly my strong suit, but…

Well, a little aspiring ninja can’t be more difficult to take care of than a baby harpy with night terrors, can it?

Mmmh. I wonder.

“Isn’t the girl already living with… err… Martha? Why would she need someone to look after her?”

It’s not a rebuttal, just an honest interrogation. Plus, it gives me some more time to think. Again, something feels off here. They have a villageful of potential babysitters on hand, so why ask me, the stranger they know nothing about? I’m not an expert on how most people treat their loved ones… but aren’t parents not supposed to leave their baby girl with adult males of unknown background?

I think that’s indeed the norm.

Right?

“Indeed she is,” the Elder replies with a thoughtful face. “And Martha has done her best to take care of her ever since the kid lost her parents, some years ago. Martha is an intransigent woman, yes, but she is a good person. And a good mother I believe. Dorothy never looks sad, or even unhappy… but…”

He shots a brief glance at the bush housing the girl in question and a sad light flickers in his uneven eyes.

“But I have never seen this child smile earnestly. It breaks my old heart… or what is left of it.”

“I see…”

Do you, really?

No. But I’m trying.

I lean back, arms extended behind me for support. “So you want me to help with that? Make her smile ‘earnestly’ again?”

I repress a grimace. I’m a bit reluctant. Taking care of others in general is already something I’m not very good at, let alone small children. I can clown around and occupy them for a few hours, but anything beyond that stretches my limits.

Well… It’s not like I never looked after small kids. Daniel has a baby sister much younger than himself and Yas. I’ve babysat her a handful of times. She never spontaneously combusted into flames or anything. There’s also the case of that baby harpy I helped with her agoraphobia. Now the chick flies like any other of her kind.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

So I’m not completely shutting off the Elder, but if he expects me to play shrink with Dorothy, I fear her condition might actually worsen.

They do say poachers make the best gamekeepers though?

Yeah. And it’s not like I have no experience in dealing with mental disorders…

What? I’m aware I have issues. I just refuse to acknowledge them most of the time.

The Elder nods in response to my question, then adds: “Martha is not at fault here, really. I think Dorothy was traumatized by what happened when her parents passed away.”

He marks a pause, as if rembering, which is probably the case.

“It was gruesome, but she remembers nothing of the incident, nor of her parents for that matter. I am worried how these repressed memories might affect her. I did what I could, but… Sadly, I am no expert in dealing with a girl’s heart. Kekeke-heee... If I were, things would not have turned this way.”

He chuckles again, but his laughter sounds hollow, and another shadow of sadness passes over his aged features.

Is that guy bipolar? Because the way he shifts between happy and gloomy all the time looks like bipolar disorder to me. Gods, please let him not be bipolar. I can’t handle depressed people.

He might just be old and have had a very long and eventful life. That leaves plenty of room for sad experiences, even if he’s good at hiding his pain.

I really wouldn’t know.

No… I guess you wouldn’t.

That said, it’s not really surprising that the old man has a complex personality.

After all, he does rule over a small secluded community settled at the bottom of a huge emerald mountain, protected by a gigantic barrier powered by forgotten soul magic, and in the middle of a secluded country overrun by all matters of animated dead monstrosities…

…

……

………

Well, that is awfully queer…

Not privy to my thoughts, the suspicious Elder keeps on talking.

“Dorothy doesn’t have anyone around to play but boring adults either. I believe you noticed. The closest to her age is Dennis, but… Well, Dennis is Dennis. He has his own issues to deal with. And Dorothy has too much of an empire over the poor sot for him to be of any use with this particular issue… not that he has much use in anything else… But I digress.”

He shakes his head, his few long flimsy strands of yellow hair swaying lightly, and looks me straight in the eyes. For the first time, I notice that his irises are a strange shade of warm gold.

“So, young one, can this old man count on your help?”

*ting*

New Quest:

The little girl who couldn’t smile

The Elder of Kansas is concerned about the youngest member of his community. The little Dorothy was left orphaned after a traumatizing incident. She hasn’t earnestly smiled ever since. The Elder has sought your assistance in helping the child regain her lost happiness.

Success Conditions:

- Dorothy earnestly smiles again.

Failure Conditions:

- Dorothy smiles remain empty.

- Dorothy’s state worsen.

- Dorothy dies.

Consequences:

Upon Success:

- Raised intimacy with the inhabitants of Kansas.

- Intimacy with Dorothy raised to MAX.

- Possibility to learn the secret of Kansas.

Upon Failure:

- Varies on the results.

– Do you accept the quest? –

“Tsk.”

I really don’t like quest windows. Even when they aren’t purposefully insulting me.

Everything just seems so simple and one-dimensional when you downplay it into terms of success, failure and quantifiable gain. I mean, failure if “Dorothy dies”? Well, geez Sherlock, I’d never have guessed! Isn’t “death” included in “Dorothy’s state worsens”? Why not add “Failure if Kansas explodes”?! Or “if the world ends”?

How stupid.

*mental sigh of deep exasperation*

Such simplification brings lots of imprecisions too. What does “her state worsen” exactly entails? Who’s to be the judge of that?

For example, what if I were to turn Dorothy into a giggling psychopath who thoroughly enjoys the slaughtering of her fellow human beings? That way, her smile would definitively become earnest, but I’m not ENTIRELY convinced this is the kind of “improvement” the Elder is looking for.

It would be fun though…

Yes it wou– Ah! No! Bad Elric. Baaad!! Corrupting the youth and impressionable is not a respectable hobby.

I mentally slap myself…

Aouch!

…and refocus on the Elder, who is still staring at me with expectant – almost innocent – eyes. I almost regret my earlier thoughts.

Almost almost.

Anyway, I still ain’t that much on board with this – it’s for Dorothy’s sake too – but staying here after refusing such a request will undoubtedly feel awkward. Plus, there’s an indescribable… something about this here place that deliciously tickles my odd-o-metre. I don’t want to leave just yet.

I meant… something odd… aside from the fact this is a small secluded community settled at the bottom of a huge emerald mountain, protected by a gigantic barrier powered by forgotten soul magic, and in the middle of a secluded country overrun by all matters of animated dead monstrosities.

…

Yes, definitely something fishy here.

After pondering for a few more seconds, I ask a question of my own instead of answering.

“Healing an emotionally wounded child? That’s tough, Elder. I’m not a tactful guy. What makes you think I’m up to the task?”

“Well, young one, you seem to have a rather… unique approach on life.”

Hoy.

“Maybe… Maybe you could succeed where all others failed?”

I feel a sudden shiver run down my spine. For some reason, from the way he said it and the dark light in his eyes, I’m not sure that last sentence was entirely about the Dorothy issue.

“And…” the elderly chief continues, returning to his joyful mood, “mostly because I have not seen Dorothy this lively in a long time. Look, she even collapsed from exhaustion over there. She usually cannot fall asleep outside of her bed and without a bedtime story from Martha.”

I turn around and contemplate the inhabited shrub for a while, a smile floating on my lips. Eventually, I let out a resigned sigh and look at the Elder seriously.

“I’ll try my best. But!” I raise a warning finger. “I make no promise.”

“I cannot ask for more,” the old man replies gratefully. “Thank you.”

You have accepted the quest “The little girl who couldn’t smile”.

Tired, I simply dismiss the window and let my gaze wander distractedly.

The sun is well and truly setting right now. The shadows have lengthened and, above the canopy, the last reddish flares of daylight are quickly fading. A drowsy smile spreads on my face. Despite the mind-challenging request I just accepted, this Solar Knight feels really appeased, seeing the in-game sunset for the first time in months.

In the sky, myriads of shiny dots are becoming increasingly visible. Most white, but a few of other colours too. Red. Green. Blue. Violet. Truly a fantasy world. It once again dawns on me just how much I missed the virtual night-sky during my stay in Erwyn, with its two moons and foreign constellations.

This kind of sight truly is breath-taking. I might have stayed here until sunrise if I could, but now isn’t the time.

Yawning, I get up, stretch widely, and look down at the Elder. He’s still sitting on the grassy ground, also observing the panorama.

“It’s getting late, old man. I better get the little stalker home. Which house is Martha’s?”

“Ah. Yes. She should sleep in her bed.” He nods.

He does that a lot, nodding. He reminds me of these little plastic dogs people put on their dashboard.

Those doggies are cute. We should buy a car to get one of those.

“Martha’s home is the only one with blue tiles on its roof, you cannot miss it.”

“Blue roof. Got it.”

I turn around and am about to move away when his voice stops me.

“Oh… One last thing about your task. Do not attempt to help Dorothy with magic. It would not yield the expected results, believe me. In fact, I would appreciate if you could refrain from using spells on any of the villagers, not even for healing. That would be for the best.”

Oookay? Err… Maybe tell me those things BEFORE I accept a quest?

It’s clearly suspicious.

I can’t help the frown off my face. “Why?”

“It has to do with this place,” he evades, encompassing the clearing with a gesture of his hand. “You must have noticed. This is not just any ordinary village. However, I cannot reveal more to an outsider... which you are. My apologies.”

“Tsk.”

So now I’m an outsider again? Talk about opportunism. Maybe my intimacy level is still too low? Or is it something else? I knew this place smelled fishy.

I hate this kind of sneaky manipulative people.

Well, at least he’s honest about it.

I decide not to pry too much – for now – but can’t resist one last little push.

“Has it something to do with the illusion barrier?”

The hamlet chief lets out a small sigh, but answers nonetheless.

“Partially. But I won’t tell you more, so stop trying.”

“Your citizens did use [Purity Blaze] against me though. That’s magic alright.”

He casts me a stern glance. “They were attempting to annihilate you.”

“…”

“…”

“…oh.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll do without magic then.”

“I assure you it is for the best.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off and step towards the bush hiding the sleeping Dorothy.

Meanwhile, the gamer in me is scheming.

It doesn’t seem like he’ll spill the beans just yet.

No biggie. We’ve got time.

Indeed. Hehehe. Just you wait, “Elder”… or whatever you name might be. We’ve got all the time in the world. Haha! In both worlds in fact. Mwahahahaha!

Well… School starts again in six days… So let’s say I’ve got around twenty days here…

Hahaha! Just you wait, “Elder”! I’ve got “around twenty…. No that doesn’t sound overbearing. That sounds pitiful…

The gamer in me rapidly gets side-tracked though.

*sigh*

That’s the reason why I rarely try to plan out my actions. I’m such an unrepentant scatterbrain. No “keikaku doori” for me…

Oblivious to my failed attempt at scheming, the Elder calls out again from behind me.

“And thank you again, young one.”

“Stop thanking me. It’s getting creepy,” I complains over my shoulder as I bow down to get the inefficiently camouflaged little girl. I picked her up and held her in my arms, her head resting on my shoulder.

Sorry Miss, you’re too young for princess-carry. It would look like I’m holding your little lifeless corpse. Not sure Martha would welcome the sight.

The little sleeper unconsciously clings to my shirt.

Aaaw~ So cute... She’s such an angel when she sleeps.

It’s a shame she turns into a devil whenever she opens her mouth. Please keep your mouth shut, Dorothy.

I glance back towards the shabby log cabin, by which the wrinkled chief is still sitting. He has a warm smile on his thin wrinkled lips as he looks at my small burden. He starts addressing me without lifting his gaze.

“By the way, young one, Martha’s house is quite large. I seem to recall she has one spare room. You can sleep there if you want. Just tell her that you are going to help with Dorothy. She should be overjoyed. Or you can sleep outside. The nights are warm around here, and I speculate that stargazing is a rare commodity in the outside world.”

“It is,” I confirm. “In Erwyn at least. But I’ll take the bed, if offered. I’ve had my back-full of hard bumpy ground.”

“Suit yourself.” The Elder laboriously stands up. I take a step forwards with the intent to help him but he waves me away.

Eventually getting on his feet, he groans while patting his lower back, then turns around and walks slowly towards his small home.

With the lightly snoring girl comfortably set up in my arms, I voice a quiet question.

“Elder? Can I ask you something?”

The old man looks back from his inexistent doorstep, already half inside the log cabin.

“You can ask me whatever you want, son.”

Ooooh… I’ve ranked up to “son” now. Amazing! Ah! No. Not amazing. Focus! …Eh? “Whatever I want”, he says…

“What’s your real name?”

“Good try, boy.”

“Tsk.”

I’ve been retrograded.

“Then, this incident with Dorothy’s parents? What was it?”

The Elder doesn’t answer right away. Eventually he raises a daring eyebrow.

“Give it your best shot, lad?”

“Undead?” I hazard.

“I knew you were a smart one. Kekeke.” Laughing, he disappears inside his home.

…

With the vague impression of being made fun of, I start the short walk back to the main cluster of houses. It should take much less time now that I don’t have to match the pace of a tortoise in human skin.

From my current point of view, slightly uphill, Kansas looks troublingly otherworldly, standing in its clearing, surrounded by ancient woods exhaling slow puffs of dense white smoke, dimly lit up by golden crimson rays from the West, silvery blue moony glow from the East, and ghastly green luminescence from the North behind me.

…

Err…

Ghastly green luminescence…?

Behind me……?

…

……

………

Wait. What?

I spin around, making sure not to wake Dorothy, and my eyes widen in shock.

…Is the mountain… glowing?

I believe it is.

Indeed, the mountain is diffusing a soft green glow.

A glowing mountain.

Of course, a day like today couldn’t end without a glowing mountain.

…

……

………

Ooo-kaaay… Let’s just pretend this is perfectly normal. I’m too tired for this.

Shaking my head with a soft smile, as if to shrug off a silly dream, I turn around and put any thoughts of fluorescent mesa out of my mind. I choose to focus on the scenery. On the sky most specifically.

There isn’t a single dark clouds in sight, even though the forest can’t possibly span far enough for the depressing cope that covers all of Erwyn not to be visible. There should at least be some kind of shadow in the distance. I’m repeating myself, but this whole place looks like a dwelling of mystical spirits, right out of a child’s dream and transcribed into a pastel painting. Another dimension altogether.

For an instant, I wonder if I unknowingly set foot in the afterlife.

Only for an instant though, before someone shatters the moment.

“Oh! And, sonny, when you ask Martha for a bed, tell her to warm it for you. She looks a bit icy on the outside, but she is a real beast when she gets down to it! Experience’s talking! Kekekeke…”

Dumbstruck, I jerk my head around to face the old pervert, but the man has already disappeared back inside his makeshift home, shutting the rigid dirty curtain behind him. Only the echo of his cackling laughter remains in the air.

“What the…”

* * * * *