The Inn Beyond Time and Space

Ah, the familiar darkness, the oppressive weight, and the sinking sensation of his consciousness spiraling downward.

Adrian Wells floated in a void of chaotic blackness, feeling an overwhelming sense of helplessness and exhaustion pressing in from all sides.

He had anticipated more twists and turns before he could escape that "otherworld," even suspecting he might have to "die" more than once. But while he had guessed the beginning and the end, the process itself had taken him completely off guard.

As he drifted through the dark, memories of the final moments before he lost consciousness came flooding back—those golden-red eyes seared into his vision, the fox tails that gleamed like fiery blossoms in the night, and, of course, that supersonic headbutt.

Who was that girl? Where had she come from? And why was she in this forsaken place?

And then there was his own transformation during the fight with the monster—the surge of unnatural strength, the heightened reflexes, and that insatiable hunger.

What was happening to him?

His thoughts spun like a vortex in the depths of his mind, unmoored and spiraling into chaos. Devoid of a physical body, his restless thoughts materialized as vivid, surreal illusions before his "eyes." He saw the grotesque monster composed of countless twisted limbs. Then he saw the girl with the fox tails, her silhouette striking yet blurred. And suddenly, he saw Eileen.

The oil painting shattered, its pieces strewn across a darkened room. Eileen's doll-like limbs lay tangled in a web of threads, while a shadow loomed in the distant depths of the frame.

Abruptly, the image vanished, replaced by another memory—a red-streaked sky glowing with the warm light of sunset, illuminating the familiar old streets of a quiet coastal town.

That was his "home." The real Boundary City where he had grown up. The place he hadn't seen in two months.

Yet as the memory surfaced, Adrian felt an inexplicable distance. It felt like a relic from another life, as though it didn't truly belong to him.

The images dissolved, and only the comforting darkness remained.

Adrian's thoughts began to clear. Tentatively, he called out in his mind:

"Eileen?"

The darkness offered no response.

It seemed that in death, his connection to Eileen had been severed.

Adrian experimented further. Could he find anything else in this void? Could he sense his limbs? His presence here felt intangible, a drifting thought without a body.

The void was utterly empty.

Unlike his previous "deaths," when he had stumbled blindly through the process of returning, this time Adrian sought to observe and understand. He wanted to test his theories and glean anything he could from the experience.

The world he now inhabited was baffling and full of mysteries: strange phenomena, personal transformations, and his repeated resurrections. But now, with Eileen's insights about "otherworlds," Adrian finally felt he had a goal. He needed to escape—to return to the "normal" side of reality.

When the fissures of the otherworld briefly opened, ordinary people who glimpsed the scenes within were pulled across the boundary, crossing from the rational into the surreal. The cause might be as innocuous as stepping on the wrong stair, flipping one too many pages in a book, or—like Adrian—opening the wrong door.

But if entry was possible, then escape must be, too.

This valley, cloaked in perpetual night, was one such otherworld. So was Sycamore Street 66, where he now lived.

And Adrian suspected his first encounter with an otherworld occurred much earlier—two months ago, the moment he stepped through the door of his original home.

The realization brought a spark of determination. Adrian resolved to explore, learn all he could about the mysteries of these otherworlds, and find a way back to the "normal" world.

He opened his eyes.

Cold wind whistled through the gaping holes in the temple walls. Above the half-collapsed roof, the sky was an ominous, murky gray.

Adrian remained motionless, seated in a corner of the ruined temple. He was alert, his senses sharp, as he sought to piece together the fragments of memory lingering in his mind.

He focused on the threshold between the darkness and his awakening—the fleeting moment when he transitioned from the void to reality.

He recalled visions that flashed by in an instant: a familiar street near his house, the gates of Sycamore Street 66, and finally, the corner of this ruined temple.

Adrian closed his eyes briefly, his thoughts settling. He had theories, but he set them aside for now. Taking a deep breath, he began to test his limbs.

His body was whole again, brimming with strength. He could feel the powerful current of blood in his veins, his heightened senses sharpening with each passing second. Even the catastrophic injuries from that girl's supersonic headbutt were now completely healed.

Rising to his feet, Adrian prepared to call out to Eileen.

But then, he froze.

There was a sound—a faint rustling from outside the temple walls.

His first thought was that the monster had returned, drawn by the scent of blood. But no, this sound was different. It was softer, almost cautious.

Adrian took a deep, measured breath, his movements slow and deliberate as he crept toward a break in the wall. Through the jagged hole, he peered outside.

The night was dark, but Adrian's vision pierced through the gloom.

A girl was picking her way through the rubble outside the temple.

She wore a tattered cloak that might have once been elegant but was now reduced to filthy scraps. Her unkempt white hair spilled over her face, obscuring much of her features. But what Adrian noticed most was atop her head—two pointed, furry fox ears.

And behind her…

Adrian's gaze lingered on her tail—or tails. He couldn't quite tell how many there were. From his vantage point, it was hard to say if she had multiple tails or just one large, matted one.

Recognition struck him.

It was her. The supersonic headbutt.

The girl didn't seem to notice Adrian. She moved cautiously, sniffing the air as though searching for something. Suddenly, her eyes brightened, and she rushed toward a spot amidst the rubble.

Adrian heard the crinkle of plastic.

His eyes widened.

It was the trash bag he had brought into the valley—filled with scraps from his kitchen.

Adrian watched as the fox-tailed girl tore into the bag, scattering its contents in her haste. Without hesitation, she grabbed a handful of spoiled leftovers and shoved them into her mouth, eating ravenously.

A pang of discomfort hit Adrian's chest.

It was suffocating to watch.

He didn't know why, but the sight of her eating so desperately unsettled him deeply.

Even if she wasn't fully human, she shouldn't have to endure such hunger.

Even if she had killed him with her reckless headbutt, she had meant to save him.

Just then, the girl froze. She sniffed the air again, then slowly turned her head.

Her wide, startled eyes met Adrian's through the jagged hole in the temple wall.

Adrian stood motionless, staring back.