Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Hello?”
The creature smirks at me, rubs his groin, and then leaves.
Okay…that was weird.
I stare at the cave that he disappeared into, trying not to be too concerned, when I hear footsteps again. Huddling to make myself small, I’m not entirely surprised to see another monster like the first one – four arms, big horns – but this one has a less cruel look on his inhuman face.
“Are you going to kill me?” I whisper, trying not to cry. The sight of a four-armed, glowing-eyed monster is terrifying, and the fact that I’m naked and vulnerable makes everything doubly so. I’ve read enough fanfics to know that this isn’t going to go well, not in the slightest.
“What are you?” he asks. His voice is deep and sonorous, with a strange inflection. I can understand his words, even though it takes me a moment to grasp what he’s saying.
“I’m a human.” How does he not know what a human is? Then again, I don’t know what he is.
“Speak,” he says, glaring at me. “Tell me what you are.”
“I just did! Can you not hear me?” He snarls when I speak and I scream, hunching lower, protecting myself with my hands. “Sorry! I’ll be quiet!”
He stares at me from the outside of the bars for so long that my skin crawls. Then, he walks away, his footsteps receding.
My heart hammers in my chest and I want to vomit from sheer terror. What the fuck. I don’t understand anything that’s going on. All I know is that I’m not supposed to be here. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to have clothes of some kind.
I’m also a hundred percent sure I’ve never seen a four-armed monster before. Am I…not on Earth? Have I fallen through another dimension?
Oh god. Am I dead? Is this Hell? The thought makes me panicky and I have to bite down on my knuckle to stay calm.
The footsteps return, and a moment later, the big, hairy guy returns. He sniffs the air, and then makes a sound of disgust, as if he hates the way I smell. With a mutter, he tosses what looks like a shiny yellow fabric inside the cell and walks away again.
Is that for me? I’m afraid to ask. He might growl at me again…or worse. Biting my lip, I shiver in the shadows until I get brave enough to race forward and snatch up the fabric. It’s the ugliest, strangest shade of mustard yellow I’ve ever seen, but when I hold it up, it looks like a dress of some kind, or a shirt.
Clothing. Thank god. I toss it over my head and tug it down over my boobs.
Naturally it doesn’t fit right. The neckline is enormous, and the dress itself is so tight across my tits that they look like one huge lump, but it hangs all the way to my knees, so I’ll take it. The armholes are huge, which I’m not a fan of, because if I move the wrong way, one of my compressed boobs might make a break for it, but this beats being naked by a long shot.
Too bad it’s not warm.
I retreat back to my corner again, crouching and waiting. I need answers, but something tells me this monster isn’t going to give them to me. What is he? I try to rack my brain, matching up stories with what I’ve seen. I’m probably the most well-read person at our library despite my fannish obsessions, and I’ve read a ton of mythology. Nothing I can think of has four arms except for Hindu deities, and this guy doesn’t match up with my visions of them.
Maybe he’s a devil after all. Maybe this is Hell. But if it is, why give me a dress?
And what did I do that was so awful that it warrants sending me to Hell? I rack my mind, trying to think of what I’ve done that makes me a bad person, but I’m a rules follower. I’m a people-pleasing nerd that loves nothing more than to write fanfiction for my friends online. Does bending copyright rules and writing about other people’s characters warrant sending a girl to Hell? If so, damn, these rules are strict.
There’s the sound of steps again and I get to my feet, eyes wide. There’s another four-armed devil with the first one, this newcomer a slightly darker gray than the other. They both approach the bars and to my horror, they unlock the cell, open the door, and enter.
I’m frozen in place, unable to move as they approach and loom over me.
“What is it?” says the newcomer.
“I know not. She babbles strange words when I try to speak to her.”
He—he can’t understand me? But I can understand him. That makes no sense. Terrified, I stare back and forth at both of them.