Chapter 22: Pain Unnamed
They tiptoed toward the sound, each step careful, breath held. The corridor felt colder the closer they got—like the air itself was holding its breath.
Aspen reached the door first.
Creeeak.
The door opened slowly—
—and they froze.
“AAAHHHH!!! A BLOODY GHOST!!!” Ryl screeched, leaping back and nearly tripping over his own feet.
A little girl lay crumpled on the floor.
Blood stained her dress. Her hair was matted to her face. One arm lay twisted unnaturally at her side.
“Shut up!” Aspen barked instantly.
“She’s human and she’s injured!”
Aspen dropped to his knees beside her, ignoring the blood soaking into his pants.
“H-hey,” he said quickly, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Can you hear me?”
Her lashes fluttered.
Her lips moved—but no sound came out.
He carefully lifted her head onto his lap. His hands trembled as he pulled out a healing potion, the glass clinking faintly.
“P-please…” he murmured, bringing it to her lips.
“Please drink. Just a little.”
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then—slowly—she lifted her head with what little strength she had left and swallowed.
The glow of the potion faded into her skin.
Only then did everyone realize they’d been holding their breath.
A collective exhale filled the room.
“…Thank you,” she whispered weakly.
“For saving me…”
Aspen smiled—soft, gentle.
“Don’t thank me,” he said.
“You held on. Your bravery kept you alive.”
Dior knelt beside her and gently patted her head, careful not to hurt her.
“He’s right,” he said quietly.
“You were clever enough to survive this long.”
The girl’s lips curved into the tiniest smile.
Aspen wiped some blood from her cheek with his sleeve.
“By the way… what were you doing out here alone? You know it’s not safe.”
Her fingers clenched the hem of her torn dress. Tears spilled and splattered onto the floor.
“Two days ago…” she sniffed.
“My father went out. He promised he’d come back…”
Her voice broke.
“But… but he didn’t…”
She sobbed openly now, shoulders shaking.
“I told him not to go! But he didn’t listen! So I came out looking for him and I was dragged here by something huge!”
“H-hey!” Aspen panicked, waving his hands uselessly.
“Don’t cry! Please don’t cry!”
Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.
“It’s not like he died,” Dior said flatly.
Silence.
Then—
She wailed even louder.
Everyone flinched.
Ryl clamped his hands over his ears.
“If you don’t know how to talk just shut up!!” he snapped at Dior
“…I meant he probably didn’t die.” Dior muttered.
Ryl sighed deeply.
He dug into his pocket and pulled out a wrapped candy, crouching in front of her.
“Hey, pretty little girl, look what I’ve got.” he said gently.
She hiccupped and stared at it with watery eyes.
Ryl closed his fist dramatically, rotated his hand, tossed something into the air and opened his palm.
Empty.
Her eyes widened. “You threw the candy?!”
“I didn’t throw it,” Ryl said seriously.
“You took it.”
“I didn’t!” she protested, staring at her empty hands.
Ryl smirked, leaned in, and reached behind her ear.
“Then what’s this?”
He revealed the candy.
Her eyes sparkled as she giggled.
“Here,” he said, placing it gently into her hands.
“And good girls don’t cry.”
She nodded quickly, clutching it like treasure.
Aspen and Dior both let out quiet sighs of relief.
“You’re occasionally useful,” Dior said.
Ryl shot him a glare.
“So, what's your name?” Aspen asked softly
“Luna!” she said proudly. “I’m six years old!”
Aspen smiled. “Luna… that’s a lovely name.”
She giggled again, this time brighter.
“Come on,” Aspen said, turning his back.
“I’ll carry you.”
She climbed onto him without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his neck.
Aspen rose carefully.
“Is anyone else here?” he asked.
Dior closed his eyes briefly, scanning the area.
“No,” he said.
“I’ve checked. No one.”
Aspen tightened his grip on Luna.
“Alright,” he murmured.
“Then let’s get you somewhere safe.”
They continued checking every room, moving cautiously, floorboards creaking beneath their steps.
Dust clung to the air. The house smelled old—stale, damp, and forgotten.
Ryl drifted toward a door slightly ajar beside him.
He nudged it open.
Then—
He froze.
Completely.
Like a tarsier statue that had just seen the end of the world.
The room was filled with piles of skeletons.
Not one.
Not two.
Piles.
Bones stacked carelessly, skulls grinning from the corners, ribs tangled together like broken cages.
Ryl’s soul briefly left his body.
Dior noticed his stiff posture and followed his gaze.
He peeked inside and his eyes widened.
“AH—” Ryl sucked in a breath to scream.
Dior slapped a hand over Ryl’s mouth.
“You’ll scare the girl,” he hissed.
“Be. Quiet.”
Ryl nodded desperately, tears threatening to spill.
They backed away slowly and hurried through the remaining rooms at record speed.
Soon, they found the exit.
The door creaked open. Cold air rushed in.
Outside—
A wide area stretched which was probably a grand garden at one time.
There were wild plants grown which were not taken care of and with a dry, cracked fountain.
They walked along the path glancing left and right.
After some distance walk—
A cemetery stretched endlessly before them.
Gravestones leaned crookedly, some cracked, some half-buried. Broken cement nameplates lay scattered like someone had hurled them aside in a fit of rage.
Ryl’s face was drained of all color.
“…Why am I even alive.” he whispered shakily.
“Are you sure this is a shortcut?” Aspen asked Luna.
She nodded. “Yes, brother!”
“Why should be the only shortcut?” Ryl muttered.
“Brother, are you scared?” Luna asked innocently from Aspen’s back.
“M-me? Scared?! No!!” He swallowed.
“A-aren’t scared?”
“No!” Luna chirped.
“Mom said that ghosts will be only in stories!”
Ryl’s jaw dropped. “…Even a little girl is braver than me…”
He puffed out his chest suddenly.
“If she can—I can too!”
Aspen chuckled softly.
Dior, meanwhile, looked like he couldn’t care less even if the graves started walking.
Mist crept in, swallowing the cemetery whole.
Even though it was afternoon, no sunlight reached the ground. The fog curled around their ankles like ghostly fingers, and every sound felt muffled—too quiet.
Ryl walked with trembling legs, forcing each step forward while muttering encouragement to himself.
“I’m brave… I’m brave… I’m definitely brave…”
Suddenly—
Something glowed in the woods.
Ryl stopped. “…Huh?”
He squinted.
Two shining dots, probably eyes.
Watching him.
“AAAAAHHHHH!!!”
Ryl dove behind Dior, clutching his cloak and pointing with a violently shaking finger.
“There! THERE!!”
They all turned.
Nothing.
Empty woods. Still mist.
“There’s nothing there,” Aspen said calmly.
“Who are you trying to scare now?” Dior asked, annoyed.
“I-I swear! I really saw something shiny!!”
“You’re imagining things,” Aspen sighed.
They resumed walking.
Ryl trailed behind, mumbling under his breath,
“I really saw something… I’m not crazy…”
KREEEEE—ARRR!!
Something lunged from the woods.
“YOU HUMAN!! YOU DIDN’T FEED ME THIS MORNING!! NOW I’M HUNGRY!!”
“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!”
Ryl shrieked and sprinted for his life.
Yes. You are right.
It was… Bolt.
“I DEMAND THOSE STICKS!!”
“I DON’T HAVE THEM RIGHT NOW!!” Ryl wailed, legs moving faster than logic.
“You dare ignore the king?!” Bolt screeched, flapping furiously.
“I SHALL RIP YOU TO SHREDS!!”
“I SAID I DON’T HAVE THEM!!”
Aspen, Dior, and Luna watched in silence as Ryl zigzagged through the cemetery, Bolt chasing him like an angry, feathered missile.
“Brother, are they always like this?” Luna asked quietly.
“…Pretty much,” Aspen said, staring at them.
Dior simply exhaled.
As then Ryl tripped over a gravestone and face-planted hard.
“Gah—!”
He looked up—and met the stone portrait of the buried owner.
A cracked smile carved into stone stared back at him.
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!!! SCARYYYYY!!”
He shot back to his feet and bolted.
“STICKS!! GIVE THEM TO ME!!” Bolt pecked his head aggressively.
The scene looked less like a battle and more like…
A chicken being hunted by its predator.
Ryl collapsed against a gravestone, panting like he’d just run a marathon uphill.
Bolt sat nearby, munching something Mellow had brought.
“It’s your responsibility to feed your pets,” Bolt grumbled with its mouth full.
“WHO EVEN CALLED YOU A PET—” Ryl shouted, then immediately started coughing from overdoing it.
Bolt just ignored him.
Eventually, they continued their journey and reached the village.
Smoke rose gently from chimneys. Lanterns swayed in the breeze.
Suddenly—
“Luna!!”
A woman ran toward them, eyes wide with panic and relief.
She scooped Luna into a trembling hug.
“Do you know how scared I was?!” she cried.
“Don’t ever do this again…”
Aspen watched quietly as the world around him faded.
His mother’s face surfaced in his mind—warm, gentle, smiling.
His throat tightened.
His vision swimmed.
Ryl noticed and gently patted his shoulder.
Aspen wiped his tears quickly and smiled back.
“Thank you for saving my child,” Luna’s mother said, bowing deeply.
“I can’t express my gratitude.”
“It was our responsibility,” Aspen replied softly.
Luna waved enthusiastically as they walked away.
They waved back.
Aspen clenched his fist.
“Yes,” he said firmly.
“We have to bring back the lost smiles in this village.”
Dior nodded.
Ryl nodded harder.
Birds chirped overhead. The wind swayed gently—as if cheering them on.
“You kids!” a voice suddenly called.
They turned.
A fat man covered head to toe in glittering jewellery stood grinning at them.
*****
Chapter 23: The Night of Slimes
