Shroud: Jinn

12 - Illusions

The comforting smell of something familiar yet foreign woke me up from my slumber. I winced as a stinging pain erupted in my eyes as soon as I opened them. The sunlight that meandered its way into my pupils increased the intensity of the throbbing pain at my forehead and I felt nauseous in an instant.

I groaned, careful not to make any sudden movements that would make my inclination to retch even worse. I gently opened my eyes and the burn was much more tolerable. In my blurred vision, two unrecognisable forms were looking straight at me, observing my every move. However, the two hazy shapes danced from side to side. My double vision gradually morphed them into the portrait that was hanging on a wall in Kamsaton's house. A toothless smile emerged on the eldritch features and my breath got caught in my throat.

"You had quite the concussion," the voice was near yet it sounded muffled. I was not sure whether the lack of clarity was a side effect of the concussion or because I had blood completely drained from my face in absolute fright. Perhaps it was a combination of both.

The woman walked away from the portrait, bent down on the floor, placed a covered clay pot bowl of food on a tray with a soup spoon by my side and promptly stood up. I released a languid breath of relief. She had been standing directly in front of the oil painting earlier. A mild sting poked at the centre of my chest. I slapped at the area to ward off the pesky mosquito. That was when I realised that my chest was bare and I was no longer in my scrubs. Embarrassed, I pulled at the batik sarong that concealed the lower half of my body and brought it closer towards me to make myself more decent.

She arched an eyebrow in amusement, "Relax, child. I'm old enough to be your mother." She tilted her head to the side where the nearest window was and I followed her gaze. My scrubs pants and top were basking in the midday sun on the laundry line outside of the house. "I did your laundry. More of a favour for me than for you. I don't like the stains rubbing on my floor or furniture." She turned her back towards me, seemingly ignoring my questioning look and made her way towards the front door. "Your clothes should be dry by now. I'll bring them in. Feel free to clean yourself up by the well at the back of the house," the woman said without turning back.

I briskly searched the house from where I sat, looking for any signs of Kamsaton but found none. The creaks from the floorboards suggested that the woman earlier and I were the only ones in the house at that time. I slowly propped myself up from the bamboo mat on the floor. The steam hissed from a small hole on the cover. It smelled aromatic and yet bitter as though marinated in a mix contortion of strange herbs that seem to clash rather than complement one another. It was enticing and yet repulsively threatening.

The woman approached me a minute later with my scrubs and set it down beside me. "Don't just stare at it. Eat it," she urged. "The soup's good for healing," she said as her voice faded into a distance while she walked towards the kitchen.

Against my better judgment, I eagerly opened the cover and was immediately appalled by the sight. It was not the pieces of chicken feet swimming in a broth that disturbed me. It was the colour of the chicken feet - black - which reminded me of the dead animals in the cave.

The repetitive sharp, crisp sound of a butcher's knife sharpening against a slab of whetstone invaded my ears which prompted me to get up shakily. To reach the front door, I had to pass the kitchen on the way out. That very thought made me uneasy. 

I stood up cautiously and changed into my scrubs as quietly as I could. I noticed that the gold fountain pen that I usually clipped on the front pocket of my scrubs shirt was missing. The woman must have placed it somewhere in the house when she went to wash my clothes. I looked around for it but then decided that I best leave it. Without any more hesitation, I motioned nearer to the kitchen. The vile, acetic odour slowly seeped its way into my nostrils. I could not place the strong smell when I first visited the house but it was no mistaking it now. It was the smell of vinegar.