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The Glitched One
Chapter 45: Don't look back

Chapter 45: Don't look back

Emerging from the forest, I took in the grim sight of Kora Village. It was in ruins—houses burned and shattered, fields reduced to ashes, and the ground littered with traces of violence. Bloodstains smeared the earth, and bits of organs remained scattered around, though Mortan had already cleared away the human corpses, leaving only the dead goblins sprawled about. Their small, green bodies with pointy ears seemed surreal, as if staring too long dulled my sense of reality. It was like a word repeated too many times, losing all meaning.

I moved cautiously toward the village center, keeping an eye out for any possible hideouts. If Suzan and her mother were anywhere here, they’d be hiding in a place chosen carefully, not just any random building.

"Where would a maniac set up shop?" I murmured, scanning the surroundings.

To my right stood a blacksmith shop. I stepped inside through the broken doors. The place was stripped bare; every tool, every scrap of metal was gone, even the counters. All that remained were the dust-filled outlines of where they used to stand. There were no other exits or hidden spaces here. Nothing useful.

I left the blacksmith shop and walked toward a small tavern nearby. The village was tiny, just a handful of houses, a tavern, and a two-story blacksmith shop with a tailor's entrance via an exterior staircase leading to the second floor.

“Where are you, Suzan?” I muttered. “She’s probably rigged some hidden mechanism again.”

Inside the tavern, I was met with an eerie sight: a man and a woman lying near the entrance, their lifeless hands still clasped together. The horror frozen on their faces was chilling. Stepping carefully around them, I glanced around. The place was gutted; counters, tables, chairs—everything was gone. Whoever cleaned this place out had done a thorough job.

"Nothing left," I muttered. “Could it have been Suzan?”

Suddenly, I heard footsteps nearby and quickly ducked behind a fallen horse. It was massive, its thick gray fur a clear indication it wasn’t just any ordinary horse. Crouching behind it, I could stay out of sight, even though the animal’s body had been hollowed out, leaving an unsettling hole where its organs used to be.

“Did you loot these idiots?” A gruff voice called out, close by.

“Yeah, those goblins? Got everything,” another voice replied, closer now.

“I know, right? One of them had two gold coins. These little bastards are richer than us.”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. All the houses, too?”

“Houses? Mm… yeah, except the one with the pink roof.”

“Fine, I’ll check that one. Then we should go, the weather is messing me up.”

“Uh-uh.”

I swore under my breath—the house with the pink roof was right next to me. My mind raced for a solution as their footsteps neared. With no other option, I held my breath, squeezing myself into the horse’s hollowed-out body, fighting a wave of nausea as blood dripped onto me from inside. My clothes were instantly soaked, the smell revolting.

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“Damn it… damn it…” I whispered, trying to keep calm.

“Oi!” one of them shouted, stopping beside the horse carcass I’d hidden in. “You sure you emptied this beast?”

“Huh?” the other called out from inside the house. “Yeah, I cleaned it, man. Relax.”

The first looter grumbled, shaking the horse’s body slightly, causing me to shift inside.

“Are you sure? Because you throw up at the sight of blood,” he taunted.

“Human blood, moron,” his friend snapped back. “Human blood.”

“Human or not, blood is blood, idiot. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does for me.”

"Ugh, this thing stinks," the man groaned. “Thinking ahgain, maybe I won’t check…”

"Thank god…” I muttered under my breath, praying he’d leave. “Just go away.”

“Yes!” The other one said. “A little trust is what I’m asking for.”

“Trust---” He chuckled. “Yeah. Trusting you. The man who would sell her own mother for just a bit of gold.”

“Fucking asswipe. That was uncalled for.”

“Eh, you know what---nah, better safe than sorry.” He stepped around to the back of the horse, just where I’d crawled inside.

My heart pounded, the smell, the blood, the fear—it was overwhelming. I had to act, or I’d be found.

The looter peeled back the ragged wound his friend had carved into the horse, peering inside. He barely had a second to register my presence before I lunged forward, hitting him in the face like a cheap jumpscare. He stumbled, surprised, his balance wavering. Just beyond him, through a window, I could see his partner looting without a care. I couldn’t let him see me.

I didn’t waste a second, locking my arm around his throat and pulling him to the ground, dragging him into the hollow carcass. He clawed at my arm and face, his nails scraping against my skin as he fought for air. His hand darted toward the dagger in his boot, but his swipes with it were wild, uncoordinated. Fear surged through me as I held my grip, tightening until he went limp.

“Damn it…” I muttered, finally letting go and stepping back to calm my shaking hands. “Shit… shit. Okay. It’s done. Okay.”

He was still breathing, thank the god—I hadn’t gone that far. Knocking him out was my only option, but seeing him lying there, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of guilt. I was becoming something I barely recognized in this world.

Taking his dagger, I slipped out of the carcass. His friend was still busy looting, visible through the cracked window. Judging by the mess they’d left, these two were likely behind the ransacking of the village.

I couldn't keep searching the village with him around. I’d have to take him down too…

“Just keep your head down… don't look back…” I whispered to myself, inching closer.

I had barely moved into position when he walked back outside, arms loaded with a coat and shirt. I pressed myself flat against the wall, holding my breath. Ten seconds ticked by. He strolled past me, completely unaware.

I took a quiet step forward, wrapped my arm around his throat, and pulled him down with me. He struggled, thrashing to break free, but I held tight, fear lending strength to my grip. I didn't let go, not until his body went slack, his mouth hanging open as a string of saliva dripped down.

I released him and stood up, my hands trembling.

“Sorry,” I whispered, guilt heavy in my voice. “What am I doing? Knocking people out, hurting them. This isn't me.”

Shaking off the chill that had settled over me, I straightened and moved further into the village, still uneasy, but focused.

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