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It started with clattering, then shaking, then groaning. Then the whole thing just stopped and Petra was left holding the wheel of a car that had stopped in the middle of a simple dirt road. The car had broken down, engine smoking in the cold air. Petra tried very hard to hold in the irritated scream that threatened to burst from her lungs.
So she walked.
And walked
She’s still walking.
Petra thought it was way too cold for this time of year. The sun was out and there was barely any wind but she still felt like someone was holding ice cubes to her cheeks. Her feet ached as she walked on the rough ground, and her phone was still caught in a deadzone.
In other words, Petra was probably very much screwed over.
But she saw the creeping shape of roofs and towers in the distance, hurrying her pace as a small town came into view. It was settled into the coastline, buildings dotting the cliffs by the sea. A dock stretched between one side of the bay and the other, various ships leaving and fading out on the horizon.
But the thing that caught Petra's eye was the large, almost castle-like structure that was perched out on an island some ways away, almost fully shrouded by fog and crashing waves. Passing ships gave it a wide berth, and the whole thing cut an imposing sight against the stormy waters.
Petra stared at it, and as she did, she felt something staring back.
-
She stumbled into town like a zombie, feet aching on the cobble paved streets. The townspeople gave her weird looks as she went straight for the most important looking building in the area; a tall, aged two story brick structure that had the convenient sign calling it the town hall.
The doors were heavy, hewn of thick oak, and they creaked when Petra pushed them open. The inside of the building was rather museum like, plaques describing paintings and statues of important town events. For a small town like this, important was a major luxury ship stopping by for supplies and never coming back.
Melancholy covered the town like a fog, and it seeped into Petra's bones and made her shiver as she walked towards the imposing front desk.
"How can I help you?" The lady manning it asked. Her hair was long and tied back, a faint silvery grey that was an odd pairing with her youthful face. It was almost eerie how young she looked, even as Petra guessed that she was around her own age. Her name tag said Reimu in curly font on faded bronze.
"Um, do you have any way to get out of here?" Petra tapped the shiny wood and grimaced as her fingers were coated in the oily residue of whatever the staff used to polish the desk.
Reimu chuckled at Petra's expression, flashing a smile at her with too many and too sharp teeth. "We have a boat heading towards the nearest town with an airport leaving tomorrow morning," She purred, delicate fingers flipping through a book with an elegance that Petra would not attribute to the action.
But everything Reimu did was elegant; when she directed Petra to where she should go the next day and when, as she led Petra outside and pointed out the inn to her, advising her to room under her own name.
"The owner knows me," Reimu smiled. Her eyes reflected the light of the lamps as she turned, just a flash of red that made Petra's hair stand on end. "And owes me."
"But-"
"But why?" Reimu raised an elegant eyebrow, waved Petra off with an elegant hand. Petra didn't know why she was so fixated on her every movement. "This town is as boring as hell for nice people." Another curl of the lips, something written in between the lines that Petra couldn't read, in between the glints of canine. "You've made my day just a bit more... interesting."
Petra found herself blushing, stammering, "I don't really think I did-"
"You did." Reimu dusted off her shoulder, hands freezing cold even through Petra's shirt. "I assure you. Now go to the inn, pet." Reimu went back behind the counter, hands folded primly in her lap as she settled in her seat, cocking her head at an almost predatory angle. "This town is dangerous at night for someone like you."
-
More terrifying parting words had never been said, Petra decided. She made her way to the inn, where a stout bearded man paled visibly when she told him that Reimu was vouching for a room for her.
"I- I see." The man stumbled over his words then his feet as he hurried to the wall where the room keys hung, hands shaking as he handed Petra a key marked with no numbers, only a picture of a rabbit. "There you are. Uh, dinner is in ten minutes. Just go-" He gestured towards the many empty tables, "-settle yourself."
Petra slid into the creaky seat of a corner table, bags settled against the wall as she let out the breath in her lungs. Her whole day had been so stressful, and now it was finally looking up. She inspected her room key, tracing a finger over the crude rabbit.
"Ow, shit," Petra hissed as she sliced her finger open, dropping the key on the table then squinting at it, noticing the rough edges of the metal that she had cut herself on. Blood welled up on her fingerpad, red and pearly.
"Why hello there." Petra's head shot up from her injury, narrowing eyes focusing on a rather smug looking woman. She reminded Petra of Reimu faintly; from the reflective eyes and the pale hair and skin, to the teeth that looked like they had been sharpened by knife.
"I'm Enna," The lady gave a winning smile, reaching a hand out over the table to shake. Petra started to reach out before she remembered, switching hands for the uninjured one.
Enna's eyes darted down to the hand Petra held close to her chest, focusing on the slight blood then down to the key that sat on the table. Her gaze was, and Petra could only describe it as, hungry.
But it was only for a moment, before Enna's eyes were back on her own as piercing as Reimu's in the town hall.
"You're new here?" It was posed as a question, before Enna's furrowed brow smoothed out and she nodded. "You're new here, definitely." She winked. "Can smell it, new blood."
Faintly, the back of Petra's mind made a connection between the seeming attention to blood and Enna's wording, and the way both her and Reimu's teeth seemed much too long to be human. But the rational part of her quickly dismissed it.
"New here," Petra agreed. Enna's grip was firm, which surprising for how skinny she looked. Her hair looked silky smooth, like liquid moonlight over her shoulders. Petra looked away quickly from the amount of bare skin Enna was revealing with her rather risque unbuttoned shirt, neatly ironed and tucked into smart looking trousers.
She could tell Enna noticed her staring from her sharklike grin.
"Nice to know I still got it," Enna laughed, which was strange, Petra thought, as she had pegged her to be around her own age.
"Yup, you definitely do," Petra chuckled weakly, cheeks flaring as her brain caught up to her words like a badly lagging computer.
The owner of the inn came back around, dropping off some bowls of soup and a few slices of bread. Petra was so busy tearing into the meal that she didn't notice the fearful look the man gave her companion.
Enna watched her eat, pulling apart a piece of bread and popping the pieces into her mouth. "So what brings you here?" She asked.
Petra swallowed her mouthful of food with some trouble, coughing slightly and washing it down with metallic tasting water from her bottle. "Trouble," She said, and at Enna's interested eyebrow raised she quickly corrected herself. "Engine trouble. My car broke down a few miles from here."
"And here I thought you were here because you wanted to." Enna smiled as Petra laughed, the other finally slowing down her eating to pay more attention to the conversation.
"It is rather nice here," Petra admitted, soaking up some soup with some bread. "Like a little place to stay while on a road trip or something."
"That would be nice if we had functioning roads," Enna lifted her eyebrows at Petra's questioning stare. "I'm sure you saw while walking in that the path you were walking on is dirt. We're not that connected to the 'outside world'." She said, accompanying it with air quotes. "It's why you're leaving by boat tomorrow; it's the only way out."
Panic. Flickering in her chest like a dying flame, slowly getting smothered as a part of Petra realized that no, she had not told Enna that she was leaving, or that it was by boat, or that it was tomorrow.
Enna smiled at her, gently touched her chin to get her mouth to close from where it had fallen open from shock. The thoughts melted away like mist under sun.
"I'd better get going," Enna sighed, standing up and dusting herself off, barely any wrinkles in her clothing. She looked like a model, honestly. "I hope you get home safe."
The lie was hidden in the way she smirked, eyes glowing slight red in the low light. Petra couldn't even pay attention anymore, sated by good food and the promise of rest.
"Thanks," She said absentmindedly, standing and beginning to head off to her room, groaning under the weight of her bags. "You too."
Enna watched her retreating back go up the stairs, before she went out the door and melted into the darkness.
-
Petra woke up in the middle of the night. Her heart was racing in her chest, rabbit quick. The sheets were wrapped tight around her, stained cool from sweat, and Petra couldn't get rid of the comparison of it being a net. That she was trapped forever, and she would never get out.
She curled up in the center of the mattress, bags surrounding her like a buffer, back towards the window.
Three pairs of eyes stared at her, rubies in the dark.
-
Petra woke up early, back popping as she stretched from the cramped position she had slept in. With her bags slung over her shoulder and a bandaid wrapped around her finger, she gave back the key to the innkeeper and headed towards the docks.
The town felt sleepy during the morning, but not the nice kind. More like your eyes were trying desperately to close while your mind screamed at you to stay awake. Because you weren't sure if you'd wake up again.
The eyes of the people were lifeless, and already Petra compared them to Reimu and Enna's eyes and found them lacking. Sleep lost its grip on her as she entered the rocky surface of the docks, wood boards creaking underfoot as the occasional wave smacked into the supporting pillars and threw up cold spray.
The boat Reimu had recommended Petra to was painted the light shade of throw up, though it was probably a nicer green before algae and time got a hold of it. There were a few scrapes on the sides and the searchlight at the front seemed a little banged up but it was floating and the engine seemed to work. That was all Petra wanted.
She dropped her bags in the front of the boat, settling onto one of the seats. Petra waited.
There was barely any sun at that point in time, and Petra guessed that it was like this throughout the whole day. Only fog and dark clouds greeted the townspeople's monotony of a morning.
The boat groaned as someone stepped onto the boat, untying the moorings and beginning the process of turning on the engine. Petra sat there staring as they turned to face her, broad grin and slim frame wrapped in a dark blue coat that brushed the floor. Their hat was a worn and beaten thing, and looked like it had been fished out of the ocean a couple of times. Their hair was short and choppy, probably cut it themselves, and a dirty blonde.
She bowed, pulling off her hat in a grandiose gesture with a rakish grin. "Captain Millie, at your service." She straightened up, shark's teeth in her mouth. "But I am partial to just Millie," Petra felt like she was being read like an open book and stiffened slightly, "especially from someone like you."
Petra opened her mouth to say something, a protest, a greeting, she wasn't sure, but the boat jerked as Millie suddenly started the engine and they roared out of the dock.
-
"The water's choppy this time of day," Millie commented, as if she were just remarking on the quality of her muffin. "And it looks like we have a storm coming up soon."
"Then should we go back?" Petra said nervously, pulling her bags closer to herself.
Millie laughed loudly, head thrown back and stance wide and broad as the boat shuddered and heaved itself over another three foot wave. "We'll be fine."
Petra swallowed dryly, and looped her hand through one of the ropes on the side, holding it tight.
The cliffs loomed at their right, its partner shrouded in fog and foam to the left. They couldn't get too close to the cliffs, Millie explained, because of the rocks and shallow waters.
"So it's a straight shot out," Millie gestured for good measure, "Then we follow the coastline to our destination."
A little bit of tension melted from Petra's shoulders at the thought of finally being able to go home. Millie eyed her, white knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
The sky darkened quickly, rain beginning to patter down on the boat. Petra was slowly getting soaked.
"Come up here, Petra." Had she ever told Millie her name? "It's dry over here."
Petra lugged her bags over to the seat next to the driver's. The cloth awning shielded them from most of the rain, but the wind and seafoam spray still chilled Petra to the core. The boat's front was rising and falling as they crested larger and larger waves.
"It's getting kind of choppy, huh?" Petra said, chuckling weakly. Millie's face was stoic, jaw firm as she seemed to strain against the wheel, trying to keep them on course and away from the sharp jagged rocks by the coast.
Petra decided to shut up and hold on when the whole boat creaked and leaned so far over to the left, Millie's hat fell off and was swallowed up by the dark ocean. There were a lot of curses that Petra wanted to say aloud, but her mouth was firmly clamped shut in the hopes that she wouldn't throw up.
Her cut finger stung from her grip on the swivel chair she sat in. Millie eyed the injury, red blooming through the bandage. A low growl rumbled in her throat, swallowed up by the roar of the ocean trying desperately to swamp them.
Another wave came up, rolling under them until they were almost vertical, Petra's bags sliding along to slam against the edge of the boat. Petra's heartbeat was a drumroll in her chest, her heart in her throat as she saw another wave come up, tucking underneath them, white foam pushing up a little more until Petra felt freezing cold water close over her head and an even colder hand wrap around her own.
-
She woke up. Every bone in her body ached and froze over as her clothes clung to her skin. Petra was soaking wet, hair clinging to her skull as she dragged herself to a kneeling position, rough sand digging into her knees. Her bags were strewn around her, having washed up with her apparently, a few clumps of seaweed wrapped around their handles.
Petra rose to her feet, shaking from the cold and the tiredness that raced through her and threatened to make her collapse on the sand once more. She looked behind her and saw the coast, far away like a dream lost to fading sleep.
Numbly, she gathered up her bags, arms shaking with the effort. The castle, the one she had seen only from a distance and across the bay, loomed over her, throwing a shadow over her face and making her shiver as the temperature dropped even further. But it was the only visible respite from the wind and rain and cold, so Petra headed up the stone hewn steps cut into the side of the cliff.
Petra was almost doubled over when she reached the castle, muscles screaming for rest. It was made out of dark stone that almost seemed to swallow up what little light there was. All the windows were dirty and shrouded by curtains on the other side.
Petra approached the door, barely able to lift a hand to move the heavy iron knockers. But the door swung open before she even touched cool metal. Petra looked up, and all the blood drained from her face.
"Welcome home dear," Reimu, Enna, and Millie all smiled at her. Their teeth were much too sharp. "We hope you enjoy your stay."