Chapter 22: The Sinister Cabin

The young boy spoke to the teddy bear in his lap, his expression dazed as if he were only half-awake.

His pale, wooden face carried a faint smile, one that others would have found almost sinister.

He didn't seem to care that Benjamin had become a withered corpse. The pitch-black claws in the darkness retreated.

Each claw seemed to carry a scoop of something faintly glowing.

As the claws retreated into the teddy bear's body, its worn exterior seemed to recover a little.

The cotton stuffing exposed by a tear was sucked in a little as the tear mended.

The teddy bear's button eyes, which had been bleached grayish-white with age and were clouded over by dust, turned black and shiny once again.

The boy cared little for anything else. He hugged his teddy bear, which had grown much more appealing, as he walked out of the room.

Pitch-black claws extended from the teddy bear again as it closed the door. Its claw tips melted into thin threads that locked the door from the outside.

The boy continued to walk. There was no one else on the streets. He walked quietly, if not quickly, as if nothing unusual had happened.

His face was pale, expressionless, filthy, and wounded.

He walked due west of Oakclaw.

As he slowly approached his destination, his expression finally came alive.

First was some fear and terror, then sadness and anger, then happiness and surprise.

The boy's expression changed in turn not because of external influence, but rather as if he were sleepwalking and responding to whatever stimulus came at him within his dreams.

With a small, stiff smile, the boy walked through the empty streets before stopping at his destination.

Where he stood was a small log cabin, a hunter's cabin.

A fox carcass that hadn't yet been fully dealt with was hanging from the eaves. It had been drained of blood, and its skin and fur was starting to stiffen. The hunter had been negligent, it seemed.

The boy knocked on the door with anticipation and a thin sliver of happiness.

Footsteps rushed to the door from the other side of the house. Flashes of unease suddenly appeared on the boy's face.

The old wooden door, somewhat worn and cracked, creaked against the floorboards as the boy calmed down and walked toward the person who had hastily opened the door for him: a young girl. She seemed even younger than the boy, with the same matted brown hair, though drier and messier.

There was an obvious scar by her forehead. Though she had tried to wipe it away, there were still traces of blood remaining. Her face was even paler than the boy's, and it looked coarse in some undefinable sense.

The only sign of life came from her lively eyes.

She didn't speak, as if she couldn't. Her emerald-bright eyes stared at the young boy, her pallor and thin body inviting pity and sympathy.

"I'm back, Rose. Here's your teddy," the boy said, his voice unreasonably low and hoarse.

As he glanced at his own sister, his wooden expression suddenly turned much more animated. He doted on her and clearly loved her very much.

Rose accepted the teddy bear gratefully. It released a faint burst of light before growing old and worn once again, only slightly better than when the boy had held it up against Benjamin.

Meanwhile, Rose's body seemed a little healthier than before.

Her dry hair turned cleaner and slightly softer, and some blood returned to her face.

At the very least, she didn't look to be moments from death any longer.

As color returned to her features, the scar by her forehead grew redder and more obvious.

The blood that had clotted began to flow freely once more. Drops of red blood dripped from Rose's forehead and pitter-pattered on the floor.

Rose placed a hand on her forehead quizzically.

She felt a patch of stickiness and was just about to glance at her hand when her brother stepped forward and caught Rose's hand.

"It's alright, Rose. There was water dripping down from the ceiling. Go on. Why don't you head inside? Don't let the water get on the teddy bear."

Rose didn't seem quite awake. She nodded blearily and ignored the wound on her forehead.

The boy tore a bit of cloth and bandaged Rose's head, ensuring that no further blood would drip from it. Then, he brought the teddy bear into the house with him as he sighed.

The interior of the house was dim and dark, with the windows all shut tight and blocked from light.

The wooden cabin was located by the edge of a forest and in the shade of trees. With the windows covered up, the house grew even darker.

The children were barely able to see what lay in their path, but they seemed to have memorized where everything was located.

It wasn't particularly large. The living room doubled as their dining room, and there were two figures seated by the table in the darkness.

They were larger than the two children and likely their parents.

However, the figures sat silent and still. Their postures were a little funny, and they didn't react when the two children entered. They looked almost like humanoid puppets.

Only when Rose walked up to them did the two figures begin to move, sketching out a wave with their hands. Rose waved back.

Compared to Rose, however, the two figures' motions were far more awkward and jerky, as if they were marionettes being controlled by puppet masters.

Rose walked into the room she shared with her brother without a second look.

As the boy walked past, he couldn't help but glance at the shadowy figures seated by the dining table, eyes flashing with fear and a hint of hatred.

From within the darkness, hands extended out of the shadows that were omnipresent in the house. They raised the withered corpses' hands in a wave.

The corpses' arms shook and creaked as if they might shatter the very next moment.

Their expressionless faces were contorted in pain.

Their dim, vacant gazes glanced toward Rose. The boy, who was standing behind his sister, shielded her from their sight.

Eventually, the boy's fear won out. He ran forward and caught up with his sister. The two of them entered their bedroom and locked the door.

As the two children departed, the black, shadowy hands retracted from the room and stopped propping up the two corpses at the dining table.

One of the corpses fell down and struck the table. His neck, already weakened, cracked on impact.

His wizened head rolled a few times on the table before falling onto the ground. A few black bugs crawled out of its mouth and into the shadows.

The children's room was thin and cramped. There was a single carpet on the ground, and all sorts of miscellaneous objects scattered around them. There was a stench that they could never dispel—like rot or dead wood.

Rose hugged the teddy bear as she sat by a corner of the carpet, her back to a wooden chest. Her limpid eyes seemed vacant, as if she were in a daze.

The boy sat by her side and reached out for her forehead.

His sister obediently nuzzled her head against his. The boy smiled, only to sense sticky fluid on his palm.

As his eyes gradually grew accustomed to the darkness, he could see that his whole hand was covered in blood.

His smile froze. Sorrow and pain welled up in his heart. "My sister's dead," he murmured to himself.

"But..." The boy couldn't accept this reality. Rose was hugging her teddy bear tightly, her eyes as clear as they had been in life.

His sister was dead; James knew that much. He had witnessed his drunken father push her to the ground.

Her forehead had struck the corner of a chest. She had bled to death, and her body had turned stiff not long thereafter.

His good-for-nothing father and weak, cowardly mother—one continued to vent his anger while the other cried and cowered.

He was the only one watching as his sister's corpse grew cold, pale, and stiff. He locked himself in his little room and tried to sleep, to forget that any of this had ever happened.

The next day, however, his memories refused to fade away.

Despite his fear and panic, there yet seemed to be hope: his sister, Rose, was still in the bedroom. Just like always, she was staring vacantly at the pitch-black ceiling high above.

When she saw him wake up, she smiled at him.

However, the wound on Rose's forehead continued to leak blood, bright crimson blood, a reminder of the stark reality that had overwhelmed him.

The teddy bear in Rose's hands seemed to have suffered a decade's worth of wear and tear in a day.

As James glanced at the teddy bear whose origins he didn't remember, he heard an enticing, sinister voice in his head.

"Your sister is dead, but I can help you. Give me others' vitality, and I'll be able to grant her life. I've infused your parents' lifeforce into your sister. That's why she's still alive. A hundred lives and souls, and she'll be able to revive..."

James didn't know quite why he trusted the voice. Perhaps it was because he had nothing left to lose.

When he saw the two corpses at the dining table, James reacted with surprising calm, with relief and a little grief.

He didn't know where the voice he had heard in his mind had come from. Was it a demon, perhaps?

He didn't know, and he didn't care. The two corpses at the dining table were the true demons.

Whenever he glanced at the two corpses and thought back to what he had suffered at their hands, he shuddered at the fear dredged up by those past memories.

The third victim was the fat butcher from the town who frequently purchased the wild animals they had caught.

He was torn to pieces by the black claws that had emerged from the teddy bear, causing blood to spray all over. Then, all that blood was sucked into the teddy bear's body, leaving the butcher nothing more than pieces of a withered corpse.

The boy vomited loudly—but afterwards, his sister, who had been turning back into a corpse, suddenly seemed to gain renewed vitality.

The boy was compelled to keep killing, to bring his strange teddy bear with him as he approached townfolk after townfolk.

He watched them transform into corpses, watched their vitality and soul be extracted from their bodies, stuffed into the teddy bear, and transferred to Rose.

James' fear quickly transformed into numbness. He was soon able to watch the bear act without vomiting at all.

Many of the townsfolk knew of him; he took advantage of his appearance to gain their trust and take their lives.

Eventually, the deaths were discovered.

Those who came to investigate, James killed as well. The teddy bear's strange claws were able to take down even the strong knights from out of town.

Only when all the townsfolk in the western quadrant of town had been evacuated was he unable to continue his slaughter any longer.

The teddy bear grew more and more frustrated as he searched for his next victim. The teddy bear's agitation spiked—no, the teddy bear had no heart. It was his agitation.

He wanted to leave the western quadrant of town to hunt down the other townsfolk, but there was a strange barrier that seemed to block the teddy bear and cause him to shrink back in fear. He didn't dare step beyond the boundary, as if there were something eyeing him from afar.

Today, a new victim finally entered the western quadrant of town. James didn't know what he was here to do. He heard muffled shouting in his mind, as if his ears had been stuffed full of cotton.

He felt rather dizzy. What was going on? It didn't matter. He would kill the new victim and allow the teddy bear to suck up his vitality and soul. Hold on—why was he killing others?

Was it for fun? He did seem to enjoy killing, but... No. James turned to his side.

Rose's beautiful eyes were staring at him in worry and confusion. She placed her hand on her brother's face. She couldn't help but feel as if her brother had turned into a stranger, that he was behaving strangely.

James touched his own face to find blood all over it—the blood left behind on Rose's hand when she had touched the wound on her forehead.

He felt at his own face with his hand and found that his lips were contorted into a frightening grin, wide and wild.

He continued to stare at his sister as he gradually calmed down. His smile faded.

He patted Rose's hair, which had turned coarse again. "I'm not killing for fun. I'm doing it to save Rose..."

A sudden explosion caused the entire cabin to tremble. Dust fell from the timbers and ceiling.

James coughed violently and incessantly, as if he were about to cough his lungs out. He didn't notice that he had spat out some blood.

The shadows in the cabin surged forth. Black claws emerged from the teddy bear and held up the ceiling, shielding the two children from damage.

The sudden explosion had caused the entire cabin to shake and shudder. The floorboards cracked and gave way.

Sunlight filtered into the room, illuminating it. Rose's corpse appeared in plain sight.

James's eyes widened in fury. Who had done this to his sister?!

He pulled open the door. Behind him, countless shadowy arms swarmed. Rose stared at him with vacant eyes...

James shielded his eyes against the sunlight that blinded him. He was too used to skulking about in the darkness.

The living room had been blown to smithereens. There were smoke and wooden splinters everywhere.

Flames blazed. The air was shimmering with heat and light.

The corpses of his two parents had turned to dust, and the ceiling was largely gone.

"Another round, Avia!" A voice from afar attracted James' attention.

A black-haired young man in leather armor was directing a flustered female magician to attack his home.

Another fireball appeared in the magician's hand as she lobbed it toward the cabin.

James's eyes widened in rage and anger. No! He had to protect Rose's body! Countless black claws shot out of his shadow...