The Inn Beyond Time and Space

Focus sat slumped on the temple steps, her head low, looking wounded in spirit.

 Adrian Wells sat beside her, his head hanging as well—but he was genuinely injured. The fox spirit's bite had torn a chunk of flesh from his arm, down to the muscle.

 He knew canines were defensive over food, but he hadn't expected a fox spirit to be just as ferocious.

 "Adrian…" Focus's voice broke through the silence, trembling with guilt. Her ears drooped, her silver fur catching faint flickers of moonlight. "I... I'm sorry. I couldn't hold back… I hurt you again…"

 "Yeah, you did hurt me again. But hey, at least it's less painful than last time," Adrian replied with a sigh, looking down at the blood on her lips. He thought back to their first "meeting"—when she'd rammed into him at what felt like supersonic speed. That had been far worse; back then, he'd been reduced to pieces below the neck.

 Focus tilted her head, confused. "Adrian… you said we met before, outside the temple? Really?"

 "You don't remember at all?" Adrian frowned. "I was fighting that messed-up monster. You ran in, said you'd help, and—bam—hit me so hard I blacked out. Next thing I knew, I woke up back here, and you were wandering around outside."

 Focus squinted, her eyes narrowing as she tried to recall the memory. Her fluffy ears drooped lower as if the effort exhausted her, her expression shifting into one of frustration.

 Meanwhile, Adrian glanced down at his arm.

 The bite wound was healing—at an unnatural speed. Torn flesh knitted itself together, the edges mending seamlessly as though tiny shoots of life sprouted from within. Blood, almost sentient, writhed like rivers finding their course, filling every gap.

 Within minutes, the pain dulled into an odd, ticklish sensation, and the wound was nearly gone.

 Adrian knew this wasn't normal. Human bodies didn't heal this fast. But what was more disturbing than rapid healing was his resurrection itself.

 Something about these changes made him uneasy. Sure, they seemed advantageous—healing faster than anyone could dream—but he couldn't shake the fear that this newfound power came with a price. A hidden cost, lurking beneath the surface.

 As he mulled over these thoughts, a strange feeling interrupted him.

 He couldn't explain it—it wasn't a sound or a sight but a sharp intrusion into his mind. For a moment, his thoughts weren't his own. Memories, feelings, alien and suffocating, flooded his head like a raging current.

 "Mom's gone. Dad's gone. The uncles and aunts are gone. It's dark. Poison. Cold. Scared. Hungry. So cold. So hungry. Very hungry. The berries are poison. Bark can't be eaten. Leaves can't be eaten. Dirt can't be eaten. Rocks can't be eaten… Can't eat. Can't eat. Hungry. So hungry. So very hungry…"

 The sheer force of the hunger was overwhelming. Even though it wasn't his own, Adrian felt as if his sanity was about to be consumed by the ravenous void pressing against his thoughts.

 The sensation faded, leaving him shaken. He gasped for breath, lifting his head to look at Focus.

 The fox spirit sat nearby, licking the blood from her lips. Adrian stared, watching as his blood writhed on her tongue, sinking into her skin like a living thing. It vanished into her, soaking into not just her body, but her very essence.

 Focus caught his gaze. She paused, then smiled—softly, innocently, as if oblivious to the ominous display.

 But Adrian wasn't fooled. He could see deeper now, beyond the surface. He could feel her hunger—an insatiable, gnawing void clawing at her spirit.

 She was starving.

 "Adrian…" she murmured, her voice timid, her eyes darting to his pockets. "Do you… have more food? My stomach doesn't hurt anymore, but I'm still… a little hungry."

 Adrian felt a cold sweat run down his back.

 It wasn't just the hunger. It was the connection he'd felt earlier, the alien thoughts intruding into his mind. Why had he been able to glimpse her memories? To feel her hunger?

 His gaze fell to the faint scar on his hand. His blood had seeped into her.

 Was that why?

 Before he could dwell on it further, Focus's expression shifted. Her face twitched, her eyes going unfocused for a moment before filling with shock.

 She slowly stood, staring at Adrian as if seeing him for the first time.

 "You're alive…?" she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief.

 Adrian blinked.

 Focus pressed a trembling hand to her forehead, her body swaying as memories flooded back. She seemed to teeter on the edge of collapse, her fragile mind barely holding itself together.

 "I… remember now," she murmured. "Adrian… we did meet. Outside. I… I hit you. I… I killed you…"

 Her words faltered. Her gaze wavered between him and the ground as fragments of truth surfaced in her mind.

 Adrian watched as her body sagged, her breathing uneven. She seemed caught in a battle with herself, her grip on reality slipping.

 Then she looked up again, her golden-red eyes flashing with something feral.

 A low, guttural growl rumbled from her throat.

 Her body hunched, her posture animalistic. Her mangled tails unfurled, the tattered fur igniting with ghostly blue flames that flickered ominously in the dark.

 Focus's hunger had grown wild, uncontrollable, and it was consuming her. Adrian could almost hear her thoughts—no, not hers, but the whispers invading her soul:

 "Eat… eat, and you won't be hungry."

"Go on. Eat."

"You're starving. Feed yourself…"

 Adrian swallowed hard as he stepped back. His eyes flicked behind her—to the shadow.

 The massive, grotesque shadow loomed in the darkness, its form shifting like a monstrous amalgamation of limbs, eyes, and gnashing mouths. It reeked of hunger and malice, whispering to Focus with words only she could hear.

 She crouched lower, her silver fur bristling, her teeth growing sharper. Her humanity faded, replaced by a beast's instincts.

Adrian's voice caught in his throat. He wanted to shout at her, to snap her out of it. But the hunger emanating from her—the same suffocating void he'd felt earlier—seized his voice.

 And then, in a move that stunned Adrian, Focus turned away from him.

 With a furious roar, she launched herself at the shadowy monstrosity.

 Blue flames lit up the night as she bit and clawed at the grotesque creature, tearing into its flesh.

 But the beast retaliated. Black, jagged spikes erupted from its body, piercing through Focus's silver fur and pinning her in mid-air.

 Adrian stared in horror as blood—brilliant gold streaked with red—poured from her wounds.

 Focus turned her head toward him, her glowing eyes locking onto his. Her voice, weak but defiant, broke through the night.

"Run, Adrian... run..."

 "You smell so sweet..."

"I'm not a monster... not yet…"

"Run!"

 Her words blurred with the whispers as Adrian stumbled back, his heart pounding. Behind her, the shadowy beast hissed with anticipation.

 And Focus—her gold-red gaze unwavering—stood bleeding, defiant, as the flames of her spirit fought to burn just a little longer.