Zaejin the Troll & Perik the Room Monster (special preview)

Telling people it was a hard decision for you to upheaval your life and move far from what you know is a lie. It wasn’t a hard decision. It was barely a decision at all. There was nothing keeping you there anymore. The chains were broken, you could go anywhere.

Unsurprisingly, finding a new home to move into was the hard part. Well, finding something affordable was the hard part. The house you chose, which was out of the way, up a dirt road, down a steep path, was easy to say yes to, even with all the repairs and work needed. You figured you could do things on your own, that was the whole point of this weird little adventure.

“Got enough books, ma’am?” The mover asked as he walked into another couple of boxes.

You were taken aback by the ‘ma’am’ that it took you a moment to answer. “I suppose for now I have enough. I might not have enough in a few days.”

The mover chuckled, setting down the box with the others and looking around. The other mover was coming around the side of the house, taking a box towards the old shed.

“Odd place,” the mover said.

Looking up from your spot on the floor, picking up the spilled papers of your lists, you followed his gaze. “I suppose so. The realtor at least had it cleaned a bit before we got here.” You found the paper you were looking for and walked over to the table.

“Got any big plans for it?” He chuckled.

“Aside from living in it, not at the moment. I know there are some things needing fixing though,” you said.

“Oh, I figured you were one of those flippers.”

You smirked and shook your head. “HGTV has rotted some brains in its day. Mine isn’t one of them.”

“Really? I think it’s a good channel.”

You just shrugged. As you signed a document for the movers, you glanced outside, seeing something overgrown in the distance. You handed the paper over and continued moving, but that object across from your home caught your attention every now and again.

Once everything was moved in, you took a break. You sat on the thrift store couch you bought and leaned back, letting out a deep sigh. You had bought some more furniture from an antique store that was due tomorrow, hopefully. After a moment of rest you had a few more things you knew needed to get done. Set up the bed, find food, get a shower, the basic survival things.

The house looked small from the outside, but on the inside it felt quite larger. Maybe because it was more open than you expected, even with rooms and hallways it felt airy inside. You had never enjoyed the open concept home, you wanted nooks and crannies you could use for shelving. Luckily, this house had shelving built in, which was another draw, even if it was thirty minutes away from the nearest signs of life.

It was becoming way too easy to fall asleep and give in, you needed to get some water or you might dehydrate in slumber like some weird Snow White. You sat up, stretching out when you noticed something in the open window. It was a large clay jar, and it was heavy too when you picked it up. Inside was a thick, black looking substance. You were getting weirded out when the scent of berries hit your nose. You cautiously stuck a finger in and pulled out a heap of sweet jam. You stepped outside, looking around, but didn’t see a soul except for the overgrown object across the way.

“There’s all sorts of creatures in this world,” your grandmother told you. “You’ll see them when I’m gone.”

“Then I don’t want to see them,” you said.

Your grandmother smiled, added more to the large pot over the fire. “I want you to see them though. It’s my fault you and your mother can’t.”

“I don’t mind,” you said, kicking your legs under the table. “You’re still here.”