Nobody is stupid enough to venture into unknown territories, except for Ilya. Don't get him wrong! He never meant to enter that mysterious village.
Fate led him there to save, or be saved.
"Peekaboo!"
Beast is a cruel creature that used to be human...
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A giant shadow was cast on Ilya, blocking the light and shattering any hope left in him. His posture crumbled like a scared little kitten facing a starving hound. Shoulders tensed, brows furrowed, and eyes grew wide, soaked with a glossy layer of tears.
When Ilya met Charlie's eyes, he watched a sea of green swirl in them with a threatening emotion. Was it anger? Was it hate? Or possibly hunger? Ilya couldn't tell.
"Well?" Charlie said, tilting his head. "Aren't you gonna tell me what were you planning to do?"
Ilya jumped again at hearing that thick voice. And the way Charlie's eyes bore into his soul, it was as if they could read his thoughts and emotions.
"I-I... Umm." Ilya lowered his gaze. "I was—"
With a choked exhale, the boy suddenly stopped talking.
He brought his trembling hands to his chest, wringing them together. He swallowed a burning lump in his throat. An alarming warmth cruised through his veins; it shook him from head to toe, paralyzing him physically and mentally.
He saw a knife in Charlie's hand.
The same knife used to slaughter the chicken and dismember the rabbits was pointing at him. Blood dripped from it straight to the few inches of ground separating them.
It was silent for a minute, except for Ilya's gasping breaths rattling his chest.
"Were you leaving already?" Charlie said, softly.
"No, no, no. Not at all." Ilya shook his head vigorously, pushing the words through his uneven breaths. "I'm actually looking forward to eating your lovely feast." He sniffed the air. "Mmm. Yum." A nervous chuckle left his mouth. "I could tell it's tasty from that smell."
Ilya hoped that his sweaty smile worked on Charlie; he seemed gullible enough to buy it. Ilya stared at those two sad eyes that belonged to this towering man for too long, waiting for his response.
Charlie moved the knife, causing Ilya to flinch; he thought Charlie was going to stab him. However, Charlie was only pointing at the window.
"Then, what were you doing he'e?"
Ilya clutched his chest as he stared at that knife. His heart was racing a thousand miles a minute. He almost felt it jumping out of his ribcage.
"Ilya..." Charlie bent down to the boy's level. "Are you Alright?"
Ilya didn't want to see Charlie's eyes again. Caught red-handed in a useless attempt to escape, the boy felt like a prisoner under Charlie's stare alone.
"I'm-I'm not sure," Ilya answered, breathlessly.
Ilya slowly looked up and glimpsed the splattered blood on Charlie's face, dripping down his crimson-stained beard. His arms and rolled-up sleeves were red. His whole outfit turned darker, soaked in blood.
