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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When the content of the cup was finally emptied, Charlie let go of Ilya. He simply left his lap and sat at the table, staring again.
Ilya jolted off the back of the couch and started coughing. He was coughing so badly, he felt his throat being scratched by whatever that revolting old man fed him. His hands held onto his neck as he felt both choking on the thick juice and moments away from throwing up.
"Sorry about that, mate," Charlie said.
Ilya struggled to breathe again, gasping, wheezing, and shaking. His eyes watered from the coughing fit. Then he leaned forward and appeared to be finally able to take in a few decent breaths. However, a bitter taste lingered on his tongue, and the image of that cockroach never left his mind.
He spat on the floor, heaving. He opened his watery eyes to the sight of Charlie's big hairy feet.
"You alright?" Charlie said as he handed Ilya a glass of water. "Here. This might help."
Ilya wasn't paying attention to Charlie. He couldn't talk even if he wanted to. His heaving was unsettling. His face was turning paler than ever. Bile rose up his throat. He swallowed the nasty taste, then suddenly, he retched, jerking forward.
A giant hand slapped onto his mouth, covering it.
Ilya's scream was muffled. His head slammed back onto the couch. He opened his eyes wide, watching in horror Charlie's angry face in front of him.
"Don't you dare throw it up!"
The gritty raw animalistic sound that left Charlie's throat made Ilya flinch. To flinch was an understatement. The boy's body shook violently in one take that almost felt like it took his life.
Charlie's face slowly softened when he saw the fear in the young boy's eyes; when he felt his small hands fighting his muscular arm; when he watched his little chest rising and falling fast; when he witnessed how vulnerable and tiny Ilya was compared to his own frightening large frame.
The lad is scared. Charlie gazed at Ilya with focused eyes slowly widening. He's scared of me!
Realizing what he had done, Charlie removed his hand from Ilya's mouth and stepped back.
Ilya hastily crawled back until he fell over the couch to the other side. He stood up quickly, ready to defend himself, if he had to. That damn couch was the only thing standing between him and Charlie.
"Hey, I apologize." Charlie took a careful step forward, carrying guilt in his eyes. "It wasn't my intention to scare you."
"Stay away from me!" Ilya screamed, hysterically.
The boy's whole body shook with that scream. It left him gasping for air. Heavy tears blurred the green in his sparkling eyes.
"I-uh." Charlie sighed, his shoulders sagging. "It's just as I told you." He shrugged. "It's been a while since I've had visitors. My social skills are a bit rusty."
Whenever Charlie took one step forward, Ilya took two steps back, until he hit the wall and there was no more space to get back into. Ilya glued his back on that wall and glanced everywhere, looking for an escape route.
The locked front door was to his left, and a side door was down a hall to his right.
This guy is crazy, Ilya thought. I need to get out of here.
He always knew there was something wrong with Charlie, but decided to take cover here, nonetheless. He thought it was safer in Charlie's house than out there. That thought drastically changed now.
"I'm sorry, Ilya." That was the first time Charlie addressed the boy by his name, and it made his skin crawl. "Will you forgive my ill-mannered behavior?"
"Sure."
Charlie's smile came right back when he heard that word. It was a smile of relief that he didn't mess things up with the boy beyond repair. However, Charlie failed to decipher Ilya's answer even though he detected a nervous tremor in his voice.
Ilya was shaking. He surprised himself with that response, but he didn't actually mean it. He was trying to survive this dangerous crazy sad person. In his helpless condition, Ilya's only weapon was to pretend.
"Great!" Charlie chirped. "As a token of my sincere apology, let me get you a new shirt to replace the one I ruined for ye. Would you fancy that?"
"I would like that very much, thank you."
Charlie ascended the stairs, turning back to say, "Be right back!"
Ilya genuinely smiled—A perfect opportunity to escape.
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