Oriana thought she would be able to hold herself together for a bit longer. She thought she could at least keep herself together long enough to get away from wherever the strange man took her and find a quiet place to breakdown in peace. But the moment she looked down at the literal hole in her torso...

Something was deeply, deeply wrong with her. 

There was no mistaking it. She wasn’t imagining things, nor was she in some sort of awful dream she couldn’t wake up from. The further she reluctantly peered down into her injury. The further the hole went through her flesh. Eventually, her injury was nothing more than a mess of gooey black liquid, which smothered everything in a layer of dark goo. Even the carefully painted runes that were plastered into her bandages were soaked in that same black, liquid. But, she knew the giant hole went further, and even further down into her abdomen, she could feel it. The way she didn’t quite feel the couch pressing into the small of her back, the way her entire torso seemed sunken inside of her body, and of course the obvious…how torn up her flesh was. And then it hit her.

The black liquid was from her.

Altan and Mazel soon snapped their heads to the desperately howling woman. Altan’s face instantly snapped to cover, his eyes wide as he rushed over to Oriana. She snapped his hand over the bandaged without an ounce of hesitation, shoving the bandaged and blood soaked runes back into the gaping hole in her torso.

“D-don’t do that!” He frantically demanded. Oriana didn’t even bother to bite back at the man. A shaky, agape expression was all she could manage in the moment, even as she looked up to the man who was snapping at her

Mazel, on the other hand, released a gasp of shock. For a mere moment, she frantically snapped her head around, but soon threw herself to the door.

“L-Let me get Lucian!” Mazel squeaked as she slammed the door open.

“NO!” Altan instantly bellowed back “Find the healing runes! And one for pain reduction!”

“A-are you-“

“Yes, I’m certain! Find them!”

“O-ok!”

As the mousey frantic girl fled the room to fulfill Altan’s demands, the man in the red coat jerked his attention back to Oriana. Although Oriana’s eyes were still snapped wide open, and her breathing was still sharp and breathing, she was at the very least not overwhelmed by her shock. Her eyes focused on Altan, desperate for some sort of answer for her new…body.

Altan gave a sharp sigh, pressing his back nails into the center of his forehead “Now can you please listen to me? We don’t need you passing out again-“

Slap!

Oriana slammed her hand against Altan's, shoving his thin, bony hand further into her abdomen. Her fingers curled against his, locking his hand firmly in place against the hole in her torso. She nearly clawed his hand, as though his hand was the only thing that was keeping all her body together.

“W-why….” Oriana’s breath was merely a whisper “Why can’t I- feel my breath? I can’t feel my heartbeat I can’t… can’t….”

She took a pause, her breath growing more and more steady as she collected her thoughts. A shaky sigh escaped her lips, as she finally focused on the man’s golden colored eyes.

“I can’t feel anything but pain…I….”

“I….”

She swore she saw her very life flash before her eyes at that very moment. The darkened colors of the forest instantly surrounded her. Sweat dripping off her face like rain beating across her face. A tree stump, as twisted as the braids in her hair, and as sharp as a rusted kitchen knife. An explosion of blood erupting from her stomach and then…

Pure white light surrounding her.

For a moment, Altan drifted his eyes from Oriana, his face twisting up in conflict. But he soon turned back to her, sending her an expression of pity.

“I…think you know…” 

“You died”

Oriana didn’t know what to think. She didn't even think she heard the man correctly for a few seconds, as she struggled to interpret what he said. But deep down she knew…that this horrendous man in front of her was correct. She couldn’t feel any air in her lungs, she couldn’t feel her pulse, and perhaps most importantly, she had a giant, lethal hole within her body. She was missing so many vital organs; even missing half would have put her through a torturous, long death. But there she was, sitting dumbfounded on a couch that belonged to some strange looking, sharp eyed man. Although she couldn’t recall the exact circumstances of her death…she knew that her life ended. That much was true. 

But that only brought my questions forth in her mind.

“Then…” Oriana furrowed her brows “What did you do to me?”

Altan furrowed his brows in response. He carefully drew his hand away from her torso, tearing his fingers away from her claws hands. With the same hand however, he offered his palm.

“Why don’t I show you?” He softly asked. 

Oriana peered up at his hand cautiously. His pale, smooth hand and his gnarly, black fingernails appeared only somewhat inviting for her touch. She was tempted to take his hand, wanting some sort of grip to lift her seemingly frail body from the couch. However, for the moment….she decided against it. So with a deep grunt, she pressed her hand into the arm of the couch, and slowly raised her body up.

This however…caused great concern for Altan.

“Be care-“

“I got it-“ she cut through his concern like a sharp axe through a log “Just show me”

“…Very well” Altan seemed to sigh. Fighting his urge to guide her across the room, he simply turned his back to her and moved across the room towards the door. Peering over his shoulder, Oriana saw the man lightly grasp the door knob, turning it ever so carefully. Instead of opening the door however…something peculiar  occurred. 

A small colored card that rested above the doorknob began to wildly flow through various colors. She saw a pastel pink, a creamy yellow, and even some sort of ocean blue. Altan however, finally turned the knob to a deep, burgundy red, before opening it. 

Oriana followed the man into a rather ornate furnished office space. Everything inside the room felt…expensive. The floor was furnished with a plush, velvet-like rug, the tables were adorned with various metallic trinkets, and the walls were covered in meticulously framed oil paintings. Even one of those paintings seemed to be worth more than what Oriana would earn as a mere made in an entire year. Despite the room’s rather high-end appeal, it still had a bit of warmth attached to it. The colors of the room were full of warm browns, not to mention the room was cluttered endlessly with all of these expensive trinkets, with no mind or thought to how they were arranged. The only thing the space could use was…some sort of window arrangement. 

Or windows for that matter  

“I never caught your name…” Altan began “May I know what it is?”

Oriana paused briefly “…Oriana”

Altan seemed to chuckle back at her name, seeming somewhat amused by her name

“Quite a lovely name, Oriana. Quite the Magdalian name you have there, quite religious indeed. In any case, my name is Altan. No need to call me 'Mr.' as my employees do, they prefer to address me as such,” Altan introduced himself. 

Oriana however, didn’t respond to the man’s willingness to share his name. Instead, she simply focused on Altan as he made his way to his desk. She furrowed her brows as he carefully began to dig his curious little claws into the many drawers of his desk. He soon pulled out a small wooden box. Unlike the many deviate and intricate trinkets and antiques that littered his room, the box in his hand was very simple, in contrast. In fact, the wood that lined the box didn’t seem remotely finished, and was merely sandpapered to prevent any sort of splinters.

Altan soon caught on to her cold silence “I suppose I can’t fault you for being silent…”

He then placed the box onto the floor, and stepped carefully away from it. Within a mere moment, the box exploded in size, stretching across the floor like a porthole to a submarine. One could have now mistaken the size of the box to a large chess set, but the top of the box stayed relatively flat in comparison. Altan carefully stepped forward to the box, and lifted the top hinge. And below the hinge was…

Utter pitch, black darkness.

Oriana stepped back cautiously, as the man himself only stepped down into the unknown darkness of the box. Of what Oriana could see of the entrance of the box were a few haphazardly placed steps. She could count 3-4 steps downwards until the presumed staircase was smothered in black. She had every reason to be cautious now, even if she did want answers. 

“Now, let’s-“ Altan stopped himself as soon as he turned his attention to the conflicted woman, who eyed him as though he was some sort of malicious character “Could you please stop staring at me like that? Your gaze is enough to cut right through me like tissue paper…”

All Oriana could do at this point was swallow any remaining fear, hesitation, and suspicion she had at the moment, and…walk past Altan down the staircase that led to nowhere. 

“That’s a shame then,” she curtly responded “because that’s the only look I have. For you anyways”

Oriana had every reason to be cautious, she had every reason to be scared, and she certainly had no reason to trust the man’s suspiciously accommodating intentions. Even walking down the stairs made her feel like she was walking right into some sort of dasderdly trap set by the man clothed in red. But…she did need answers. Perhaps it was a dangerous thing to inquire about but…She needed to know how in the hell she was alive. And most importantly…what she was.

So upon gazing the basement, the place where she was brought back from the dead, she was…unsettled.

She couldn't see the rune painted into the floor anymore, because it was caked in blood.