Chapter Five

Chapter Five

            The smell of singed hair doesn’t leave your nose easily, nor does the sight of blistering flesh, or the sound of your friend shrieking in agony. Terra lay on the bed of the inn with one eye open, waiting to see if flakes of charred skin would drift off her body. Everything was morbidly silent. Carrie was gone. One more sprig bolstered her crown of nature.
            “We are never getting out of here,” she whispered to herself.

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            “Plan B? We can still try to find whoever it is we’re supposed to find,” Carrie offered from her shoulder view. The little rat had made it back to the hotel room even faster on this run, and off they went.
            “No,” Terra replied more harshly than expected. “I’m not wasting my life away here. No one is going to be my friend, not this time.” It didn’t sound like Terra at all, and they both knew it. Maybe the corruption of these Territories were getting to her. The thought scared them both, but neither could find a good reason to do something else. Carrie looked uncomfortable, but nodded.
            “Okay, but we were supposed to meet someone here. What if we can’t leave without them?” the rat proposed, but Terra moved on determined and bitter.
            “I don’t know. Or care. I’m getting out of here--whoever was supposed to meet us can figure things out for themselves,” she added coldly.
            The blue demon’s words rang through her head and quenched the anger in her heart with a splash of fear. Nothing comes or goes without me, stopping it, he said.
            “Actually, maybe we should try making friends with one of the demon brothers,” she realized, because if what they said was true, befriending them was the only way out. And it was always good to have allies.
            “You’re joking…” Carrie sputtered in disbelief, knowing full well her crazy companion had already tried to befriend a murderer once. And succeeded. Maybe Carrie would just sit this one out.
            “Just, go with me on this,” Terra reassured her rat. “I believe…wait…”
            Something was off this time around. It was different, changed. Something was…wrong.
            The sentry station was unoccupied as they approached, and made her wary of the sky. Upon closer inspection, one dark blue creature snoozed away behind its wooden boards.
            Why was it different this time? What determined how things would change in each timeline? Could it be as miniscule as the wings of a butterfly, or as grand as a paradoxical crossover? It had to be something she or Carrie did, being the only ones aware that a time paradox was even occurring. Either way, it left her in an awkward situation.
            “Excuse me,” she said as politely as possible, and the rest of her words hissed from the sudden rent in her throat. In an instant the demon had sprung up on the stand, violently ripping at her throat with a cold grip of death.
            “Oh, Flowerchild? You scared the hell outta me,” she heard him say as everything was swallowed around her.
            “Wait, what the hell?” He tossed her to the ground, but she didn’t feel it; only the warm, red puddle that caressed her cheek. There was a quiver, quiver, ever more feeble, ever more faintly, and at last all was quiet, quite still.