The Girl from Another World - Part 1-2

1

Oh. Seems like there’s nothing better before sleep than stretching a tired back and finally letting the body relax after a whole day of fussing with the field and cattle. Though, even better than that is drinking a mug of cold milk, straight from the jar in the fridge, and feeling it cool the throat and bring back strength.

I smirked, put the empty mug on the table, and slowly trudged toward the bed. The day had been tough — in the morning I drove the cows to pasture, then fixed the fence, and the damn tractor was acting up again. All of this had long become routine, but I still felt like my shoulders were weighed down with stones.

On days like this I could clearly see how much I missed that little bastard. Though, what little? Over those few years he had grown so much that even I had to pick my words carefully not to give away respect. His arms were stronger than half the neighbors’, and his whining, which used to annoy me, suddenly became the kind that made me scared to even talk back at times.

Matt. Now that was a giant… no, not the right word. More like an oak in human form — tall, strong, with shoulders you could hang half a barn on. But with all that strength — the kindest guy, soft inside, far too trusting. And that’s exactly what ruined him. Too kind for this harsh world.

That fucking driver of that damned truck… I still see the picture as if it was yesterday. The roar of the engine, the screech of brakes, and Matt — my boy, my helper, my only real family — pushes someone out of the way, but stays himself. He was only twenty. Just twenty, for fuck’s sake.

Oh, hell… shouldn’t have started picking at old wounds again. But the thoughts kept crawling in, like splinters — you can’t pull them out. I let out a heavy breath, ran a hand over my face, and finally collapsed onto the bed. The mattress creaked, took my weight, and I stared up at the ceiling, as if there might be answers there.

The body was buzzing from exhaustion, my eyelids closing on their own. I rolled onto my side, pulled the blanket up to my chin. It seemed like fatigue had finally won, and I was almost falling asleep.

Tomorrow I’d have to get up even earlier — to herd the cows, and check the tractor again, since yesterday it was wheezing like it was squeezing out its last bit of strength. My thoughts tangled, heavy but familiar, and I was almost slipping into sleep when a strange sound echoed in the room.

At first, quiet, like someone scratched the wooden floor with a claw. My ear twitched, but I didn’t open my eyes. ‘Rats,’ flashed lazily in my head.

Then again. Longer this time, like something being dragged across the floor. I frowned, squeezed my eyes tighter, hoping that if I ignored it — it would go away. But then came a dull thud. Sharp, like a heavy palm hitting wood.

My eyes flew open on their own. I jerked up on my elbows, looking around. The house froze, only my heart thumping in my chest.

— Well, shit… — I muttered, trying to make out at least something in the half-darkness. But there was nothing. Just my room, the smell of wood and dampness soaked deep into the old boards. Everything looked the same as always. But the air felt like it was holding something tangible, like it had grown thicker, like the whole house was holding its breath and waiting.

2

I was just about to lie back down, blaming it all on fatigue and an overactive imagination, when the thud came again. This time — loud, right beside the bed, like someone slapped the floor with a palm.

— Damn it… — I exhaled and snapped my head around.

And froze.

In the corner of the room, where the dim light of the night lamp barely pushed through the shadows, stood two figures.

The first thing I saw was him — a giant, nearly scraping the ceiling. Red skin, muscles like boulders, black hair tied in a tail, and eyes burning so fiercely they sent chills down my spine. A demon. Real, no doubt about it. He grinned, flashing his fangs, and stepped forward, the floor groaning miserably under his weight.

— Where the hell are you going, you little shit! — rang out a sharp female voice, and I jolted so hard I nearly tumbled out of bed. She spoke fast and commanding, yet almost playfully, and in that instant the demon froze, turning toward her. A guttural sound rumbled out of his throat, like a beast yanked back by its chain. He growled, but didn’t take another step.

I swallowed hard, feeling cold sweat run down my back. The air seemed heavier, and my heart pounded so loud I heard it in my ears.

The girl stepped out of the shadows, and I finally got a proper look at her. Slim, almost teenage build, a long braid of dark-purple hair hanging over her breasts, and a robe far too big for her, making her look even smaller. Next to that giant she seemed almost absurd — fragile, thin, as if a gust of wind could topple her. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that this monster had just obeyed her, especially with that nervous smile frozen on her face, completely out of place.

— Hi… — she whispered, and this time she sounded like a whole different person. No, the voice was the same, but the tone and manner… as if she was terribly nervous. She lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers awkwardly, like she wanted to wave at me, but in the end it came out as a pitiful gesture.

— Who the fuck are you? — I barked, gripping the blanket tighter like it could actually protect me. — And what the hell are you doing in my house?!

The girl flinched as if I’d struck her, while the demon, meanwhile, grinned wider, baring teeth sharp as knives.

— You still don’t get it, mortal? — he rasped so deep the walls themselves seemed to shudder along with my veins. — Your time has come.

I jerked, the blanket slipping out of my hands, and nearly leapt off the bed. The monster’s words struck straight into my chest, stealing my breath.

— Sylvan, shut up, — the girl hissed, this time almost gently, like she was talking to a child instead of a giant beast that made the floorboards tremble.

The demon twitched an ear, scowled, but obeyed. His shoulders still shuddered with restrained growls, yet he stepped back and lowered his head, as if submitting.

And she turned to me.

— Shit, — she muttered softly, clutching the edge of her robe like it gave her courage. — I knew everything would go to hell.

She frowned a little, then looked straight at me again. And in that moment, for the first time, I caught something in her gaze beyond just nerves. Something… strangely familiar.

— Uncle John, — she breathed, and it felt like the ground was ripped from under my feet.