Home / Fantasy / A Cat's Tale (The Secret Desires of Hotaru Nyanko) / Eight: 奇妙な村 (Strange Village)
Eight: 奇妙な村 (Strange Village)

There stood a thick branch by my feet, and I pick it up and swing it around in an exploration, soothed by the weight and rough bark. I’m still panting from the attack, but I am careful of making too much noise; so, I brush aside the small branches, searching for something I may or might not want to see. Leaves a crack to my left. The sound that calls me comes again, footsteps crunching over leaves and branches, circling behind me. My body is paralyzed as a result of my chilled blood. I won't risk looking behind me. I'm still using a piece of leaf to conceal my wound because I know that if I don't make it, I'll die in these woods. Sometimes I suddenly recall who I am and where I am, along with the mental image of the aluminum bleachers, but that is useless right now.

I guess it will take a miracle for me to find someone from these trees.

The snapping of twigs is getting closer, and shallow breaths are only a little behind me. My fingers fall off the branch as my legs begin to weaken. I repeat things to myself to help myself remember them, yet I still have a hard time remembering things.

My neck is touched by warm air, and I can smell my old perfume as well as the stench that sweat leaves on my body.

I can feel midnight coming up, even though I lost track of time. This is usually the time I drink my sleeping pills, due to my paranoia and lack of sleep.

From what seemed like forever, I looked up again and heard birds flying in the distance. I just hoped it won’t be another eagle again. I search the environment in search of life, my eyes fixed here and there.

Just then a huge rock stood below me, and I accidentally stumbled upon it, and my phone died. I flew onto the ground again, screaming in pain and feeling my tears well behind my eyes. I simply can’t do it anymore. I have to go home.

“Hotaru, here.”

I woke up, and the dread of those whispers pulled me in again.

There was a little light, and from what I could make it out as it seems- were tiny little things with eyes that caught me terrified in horror. Now I do not believe in ghosts or even fantasy stories, but from that moment-everything felt real, and as existential as reality.

Holding fireflies that exuded light for me to see our little elves with stretched ears climbing on top of me jeering in the tiniest laughter I have ever heard.

“Look at her!” says the one with the green skin.

“Ha-ha! I see!” She smells like garbage!” says the other one with orange skin, from what I could tell.

They continued to laugh like that as if they have discovered a stupid giant roaming their land.

I quickly rubbed my eyes to see if they were real, and when I did, they were gone.

Hurriedly I stood up once again and stumbling between them; I make my way through the murk until I reach the edge of the forest, the trees giving way to the grounds of a sprawling village.

As I move forward with dried-out blood from my arm, I trudge along the bushes and saw a mother holding a baby in her arms, looking at me. She was wearing a white robe dangling far below her knees, and her head was wrapped in a piece of cloth. A child went up to me and I am relieved by this streak of luck, heaving a sigh of relief.

The boy touched my hair, and I could see the surprise in his eyes.

“Akii elka troku baa!”

She shouted, motioning to the boy to let go of me.

“Help me,” I exclaimed in desperation.

I looked everywhere, while the boy kept tugging at my blue skirt.

I could now see lamps everywhere- men and women with the same white robe passing by, staring at me in terror. They speak in a different language, and words that I don’t understand.

This time I couldn’t help it any longer, I shouted in torment.

“Help!”

“Help me!”

I turned myself around, pointing to the deep wound in my arm, crying in misery.

The boy now returned to his mother, and she whispered something to his ear, while she glared at me; still in disbelief. I could see her fingers pointing somewhere-and the boy immediately obeyed her and took my hand.

We walked along together as I avoided the sight of those men, and I could see some women slapping their husband’s faces in anger. Some of them gazed at me as if they witnessed something out of this world. 

It took me a while to discover that the tents they used as shelters were built of animal bones, which were used to support and act as a foundation; the curved tusks were used to support an entry gap, and both the bones and the tusks were probably used to support the animal hide roofing. I could see that some of these houses had a place to start a fire and that during a time when wood was extremely limited, bones were used as nourishment. I witnessed the creation of tough-looking bony chairs, pipes, and harps out of these bones, which were also used to build tools, ornaments, furnishings, and even musical instruments. I could see skulls hung outside the tents, people cooking from the fire made out of charcoal, and warm-looking bears' fur covering their backs.

The boy’s hands were so little, but they held me in such a tight grip as if he feared losing me. I gripped his hands even more just so he knew that he is safe with me.

We came upon a large well and I stopped there to sit and look within. It was still dark to even look how deep it is, but from the boy’s lamp, I could see my body’s shadow in the water. The boy helped me pump water from the well, as he slid a good bucket underneath me. I immediately washed my face with water, drank and sipped from the bucket, and splashed some of it on my arms until it was fully cleaned. 

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