A Night’s Shelter and New Shadows

We ran for what felt like an eternity.
The angry shouts of the mob slowly faded behind us, swallowed by the dark forest, but the fear clung to our backs like a stubborn shadow that refused to let go.

Night had fallen — cold, sharp, and hostile. The twins panted beside me, their pale faces gleaming faintly in the moonlight. Ahead of us, Pururun bounced along the path like an improvised scout, her gelatinous body shimmering softly in the dark.

“We… we can’t… keep going,” Lyra gasped, her voice uncannily reminding me of Lena’s.

She was right. We were exhausted, starving, and worst of all, we had nowhere to go.

“Tch… of course,” I muttered, scanning the surroundings. “Because running from a mob of religious fanatics wasn’t complicated enough, we also need to book a damn hotel in the middle of nowhere.”

At that moment, Pururun began to vibrate frantically, pointing her body in one direction. Between the trees, I spotted a dark silhouette — a decrepit old building, half-swallowed by creeping vines and shadows.

“An abandoned house? Perfect. Exactly the kind of place where you find cursed corpses and angry ghosts. But hey, we’re short on options.”

I turned toward the twins. They stared at me with wide, frightened eyes, still shaking from adrenaline and terror.

“Come on. Unless you’d prefer to sleep under the stars with monsters and zealots on our trail.”

They followed without a word.

***

The interior was exactly what I expected: dusty, gloomy, and dripping with atmosphere. Cobwebs hung like morbid curtains, and the floorboards groaned beneath our weight. The air smelled like mildew and old wood.

“Charming,” I muttered. “Looks like the set of a third-rate horror movie. All we need is a creepy ghost kid singing a lullaby, and we’re set.”

Pururun slid around the room, exploring every nook with curious enthusiasm. I spotted an old fireplace in what must have once been the main living room. A pile of rotting planks lay abandoned in a corner.

“Well, at least we can make a fire. You two, sit down. I’ll handle this.”

The twins obeyed quietly, curling up together near the empty hearth, still visibly shaken. I gathered the planks, broke them into manageable pieces, and arranged them. A quick spark from my red gem later, and a modest fire crackled to life, painting the room in warm orange light.

“There we go. Not exactly the Ritz, but at least we won’t freeze.”

I dropped heavily to the floor in front of the fire, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over me like a lead blanket. Pururun nestled against my side, her cool texture contrasting pleasantly with the fire’s warmth.

Silence fell — thick and heavy. The twins still hadn’t said a word since our escape. They stared at the flames with an intensity that spoke of fear, grief, and confusion, as if searching for answers in the flickering light.

I sighed.
“Listen. I know you’re scared. I know your life’s been one long parade of crap. But you’re safe now. Well… as safe as one can be in a rotting house in the middle of nowhere.”

No reaction.

“Oh, come on. Are you planning to stay silent forever? I don’t bite. I’m not a vamp — ”

I froze mid-sentence. Nice going, genius, I thought. Making vampire jokes in front of half-vampire girls.

Mira finally lifted her head. Her dark eyes glimmered in the firelight — mistrust mixed with a flicker of curiosity. She glared at me for a moment before asking, “Why… why did you save us?”

I shrugged.
“Because I can’t stand injustice. And because that pack of zealots made me want to vomit.”

“But… you’re a healer, aren’t you?” Lyra asked softly, her voice trembling.

I let out a bitter laugh.
“A Temple healer? Me? No, sweetheart. This is actually the second time you’ve asked me that. I’m just a guy who’s sick of watching people die because they can’t afford ‘divine miracles.’”

I pulled out my fake healer card and tossed it carelessly near the fire.

“This? Just a piece of paper that’s supposed to keep me off the pyre. Supposed to. Doesn’t always work, apparently.”

Their jaws dropped.

“You… you’re really not a believer?” Lyra whispered.

“Believer?” I snorted. “I met your so-called God face to face. And you know what? She was a pain in the ass. I’m pretty sure she switched genders out of sheer sexual frustration. Got tired of scratching his balls and decided to — ”

BOOM!
A blinding flash lit up the room through the broken windows, followed by a thunderclap so violent the walls shook. Plaster dust rained from the ceiling.

Pururun shivered against me, trembling like jelly. The twins screamed in terror.
Me? I just grinned and looked up at the ceiling.

“Oh, still watching me, huh? Can’t get me out of your divine head. You jealous or something?”

Silence returned, broken only by the fire’s crackle. The twins stared at me like I’d lost my mind.

“You… you just insulted God,” Mira stammered.

“Yeah. And? What’s she gonna do — kill me? Already happened. Send me back to Earth? I’d take that. Condemn me to Hell? Honestly, feels like I’m already there.”

I leaned forward, suddenly serious.

“Listen to me carefully, girls. All that crap they fed you about curses and ‘impurity’ — it’s bullshit. Lies cooked up by intolerant idiots who can’t handle difference.”

“But… our parents… they were burned alive because their union was forbidden,” Lyra whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “They told us it was our fault. That we carry the curse of mixed blood.”

My jaw clenched. A hot, familiar anger flared inside me.

“Your fault? No. It’s the fault of narrow-minded bigots who hate what they don’t understand. Fanatics who’d rather burn innocents than question their rotten beliefs.”

I locked eyes with them.

“In my world, there were people like that too. Racists. Extremists. Scum preaching the ‘purity’ of their bloodline. And you know what we did to them? We fought them. We mocked them. We proved them wrong.”

They stared at me, wide-eyed, as if no one had ever spoken to them this way before.

“You’re not cursed. You’re not impure. You’re just different. And in this crappy world, being different is treated like a crime.”

The silence that followed felt lighter. The twins exchanged a glance. Mira cracked a tiny smile.

“You’re weird,” she muttered.

“Yeah, I know. It’s part of my charm.”

***

The fireplace gave more smoke than heat, but at least it illuminated the crumbling room. Shadows danced on the walls like ghostly performers.

Pururun, still trembling slightly, settled against me like a gooey, living blanket. The twins sat apart at first, huddled together.
Then, hesitantly, they approached. Without a word, they curled up on either side of me, resting their heads against my shoulders.

I froze. Me — the guy who hated physical contact — had officially become a human pillow.

“You sure you want to sleep on me? I’m not exactly plush material,” I muttered.

No answer. Just their shaky breathing gradually slowing down as they drifted toward sleep.

I sighed, staring at the cracked ceiling.
“Tch… fantastic. Trapped between two terrified bat-girls and a purring flan. What a fan club.”

Pururun hummed softly, as if agreeing. The twins finally fell asleep, tears still clinging to their lashes.

And me? I closed my eyes, grumbling. Deep down, though, I knew I’d just taken on a new burden.

***

Morning came with a pale light filtering through the broken windows. My back ached, my shoulders were numb, and my mouth tasted like mold.

“Ugh… what a night.”

The twins were still asleep, nestled against me. Pururun, as usual, had gone off on some early-morning exploration.

I carefully slipped away, trying not to wake them, and stood up with a groan. My joints cracked loudly.

“I feel a hundred years old…”

Outside, the landscape was bleak: fallow fields, skeletal trees, and the road stretching toward the capital in the distance. Pururun bounced back toward me, practically glowing with excitement. She spat out a pile of wild berries at my feet.

“Oh, nice. You always manage to be useful at the worst times.”

I bit into one. Bitter, but edible. It’d do.

Then I heard voices — male, commanding. My blood ran cold. I rushed back toward the house, but I was too late.

Four men stood at the entrance. Pale-skinned, dressed in elegant, almost noble clothing. Their eyes were scanning the interior like hunters closing in on prey.
Behind them, frozen in terror, were Lyra and Mira.

“Shit.”

I approached slowly, Pururun vibrating dangerously at my side. One of the men turned toward me, a cold smile stretching across his face.

“Well, well. A traveler. Tell me, you haven’t happened to see two young girls around here, have you? We’re looking for them.”

My heart pounded. The twins stared at me, pleading silently.

I forced a nonchalant smile.
“Two girls? Sorry, haven’t seen anyone. Just me and my assistants.”

I gestured casually toward the twins.
“These two? They’re my aides. I’m a traveling healer, heading to the capital.”

The man eyed me skeptically, his gaze flicking between the girls and me.

“Really? What a coincidence. These young ladies look an awful lot like the ones we’re searching for.”

He stepped toward them, reaching for one of their hoods.

“Let me just check — ”

I immediately stepped between them and him. Pururun puffed up, her frilled “dinosaur collar” forming as acid bubbled menacingly on her surface.

“I strongly advise against touching my assistants without permission,” I said evenly.

He frowned but stepped back, his eyes calculating.
“You’re very protective for mere assistants.”

“I’m responsible for them. And I don’t let strangers harass them. Especially not in abandoned houses.”

A tense silence. He weighed his options, then smiled coldly.

“Very well. I wouldn’t want to anger a Temple healer. But know this — we will continue our search. And if we find out you’ve lied…”

He left the sentence hanging, heavy with threat.

“We’ll meet again,” he finished, turning away with his companions.

I watched them go, fists clenched. Once they disappeared, I turned to the trembling twins.

“Well. We’re not sticking around here. Tomorrow, we head for the capital. For now, we rest.”

They nodded weakly, still shaken.

“Honestly,” I muttered, “my ability to attract trouble should win a damn medal.”

Once again, I’d stumbled into a mess that probably wouldn’t end anytime soon.
But at this point, it was practically routine.