Page 4 of Mushy Stuff
Where am I?
What happened?
I remember the monster from the woods, and I jolt awake. I sit up and try to figure out where I am and where the monster is. I look around at my surroundings, and I’m in some kind of cave. I can hear water running somewhere nearby. I don’t see the monster anywhere, but it’s dark enough that I can’t be sure. I slowly start to stand up.
From the dark corner of the cave, I hear a rough, gravely voice that says, “Female…are you…well?” His voice is almost more growl than words.
I stare wide-eyed at the dark corner. He’s staying mostly in the shadows, but I can see the outline of his body. And his glowing yellow eyes. I say, “Y-yes. W-who are you? Where am I?”
He takes a deep breath and growls on his exhale. “I am Wold. This...is…Ilsarius...the Fae Realm.” He speaks very slowly and laboriously, as if it’s hard for him to speak.
“The Fae Realm?”
“Yes...you crossed over…to our realm. Are you well? I did not…mean to scare you.”
“Yes, I think I’m okay. Just a little sore.” I pause, and then decide that it’s best to be direct and ask any questions that I have. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No.”
“How do I know if I can trust you?” I ask.
He is quiet for a moment, then says, “You do not.”
He’s had me here unconscious for only the gods know how long. If he had wanted to hurt me, he would have by now. Right?
“What are you going to do with me?”
He stares at me as if he hadn’t thought about that yet, and eventually responds, “I do not know.”
This makes me nervous. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “Am I a prisoner?”
He quickly says, “No. You may leave…whenever you want. We will…need to make a thin place…for you to cross back over to your world though.”
“A thin place?”
“Yes, a thin spot…in the magical wall…between our realms.”
His speech seems to be getting a little more natural, a little less forced. His voice is still gravely and almost a growl, but the words seem to be coming to him a little easier. I watch him for a minute longer, then ask, “Why is it hard for you to talk?”
He takes another deep breath and growls on this exhale too. “I have not…spoken to…anyone in a long time.”
Oh…well that makes me sad. “How long?”
He looks at me and growls, “Decades.”
I stare at him in shock. “Decades?! You haven’t spoken in that long?”
He continues to look at me and says, “No.”
I feel so sorry for him. This poor guy has been alone for decades. It makes me want to give him a huge hug, but then I remind myself that he’s a monster, and we don’t hug monsters.
“There aren’t other…um…people…like you that you can hang out with?”
He tilts his head to the side. “Hang out? Hang what out?”
Right, I guess he wouldn’t know slang. “It means to spend time with friends. You don’t have anyone you can spend time with?”
“No.”
