"Rontress? Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine." It came out harsher than I wanted it to be, I kept walking, straight to the break room where I can think in peace. I stopped when I was about to pass the doorway, "sorry I... I didn't mean to do that, it's just..."

  How do I explain this? I want to avoid it so badly. To just fuck off and never explain it, to hope for the best and wait for them to understand. Problem is, I've tried that in my past life and it never worked out, am I really expecting it to miraculously fix itself here?

  No, that can't happen. Won't happen. I put on my best smile, "don't worry about me, something happened, I'll explain it to all of you if you want me to."

  And then I leave, my hands shaking from the possibility of them actually asking. Telling them that they can ask if they want to is my last trick, my friends back on earth would have read the room and not bother with me, my family though? They would want to talk to me, I know it.

  Exhaustion took over and as I collapsed on a nearby chair, my only thought was: why do they have to care so much? This is so annoying. I know they're gonna pry, I know it.

  Sitting there, in silence, waiting for the shoe to drop and for my family to come around and ask me what's wrong, somehow felt worse than fighting a monster. The feeling is only really topped by Ifira clamping down on my throat and choking me.

  A cold, goosebump raising shiver runs up my spine as the memory resurfaces. How great would it have been for me to completely forget about Ifira and just never see her again? Am I asking for too much when wanting that? Probably right?

  God, the fact that she looked interested when I left her can only mean that she's going to be pestering me from now on, and that's a nice word isn't it? Pestering. Like my life isn't in danger whenever that person comes, like she's just a passing cockroach instead of the monstrous child that she really is.

  Can I escape her? Definitely not. It's impossible, and my family wouldn't want to run away from this place, leaving me with no choice but to keep entertaining her. Will she escalate her demands? Am I gonna be forced to tell her everything I know? What happens if I no longer have anything that can satisfy her?

  Death.

  Why was I even asking that? Stupid question, of course she's gonna kill me, what else is she gonna do?

  Great, now I'm gonna have to keep satiating Ifira's curiosity, and that's assuming if information is what she wants from me. Ifira might force me to be her jester for all I know! I might even have to stop killing monsters because of her!

  Wait... That is a possibility isn't it? It never crossed my mind because I was too occupied with everything else but Ifira can literally force me to abandon all my plans and I wouldn't have a single say about it.

  My vision narrows and the sound of breathing takes over, my senses dull as my head tilts downward, beads of sweat fall to the wooden floor, their numbers growing like mold.

  Panic attack. I'm having a panic attack, and worse still, my mind refuses to acknowledge that it can be fixed, me manually inhaling and exhaling only lasted for so long before I forget about it and I start hyperventilating again.

  The clothes on my back feel soaked, heavy in a way they shouldn't be, my tongue is dry and my throat tightened, it makes breathing even harder. If I wasn't sitting down, I would have fallen to the floor with how weak my legs feel, they would probably turn into jelly if it was physically possible to do so.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Oh god... Oh god..!

  Everything dulls down, from my ears to my eyes, even the cold nipping away at my skin disappears as I process nothing but the feeling of dread that's doing its best to convince me that I am going to die.

  That's not realistic though is it? I won't die, that will never happen!

  "Rontress?!"

  Miraculously— or maybe there's a good explanation for it, I'm not keen into the specifics of psychology. — those words were the ones that my brain registers first, following them is the constant shaking that's currently being done to me.

  "Laself!" I pushed myself away, my lapse in consciousness and sanity forgotten as I stood up and steadied myself. I inhale deeply and a numb yet slight ache pulses inside my skull, "you... Did you just shake me?"

  Okay, I'm not an expert in medicine but even I know that violently shaking someone back and forth while they're going through a panic attack is not a good idea. I'm pretty sure it would only make things worse too.

  She's lucky that I didn't get a heart attack on top of my existential dread, or maybe I'm the lucky one? No, death is probably the better option for me right now, Ifira can't make me suffer if she kills me right? Checkmate.

  Man I'm so stupid for even considering that, avoiding death was the reason why I was panicking so hard in the first place.

  "Yes! How else was I supposed to help you?! You looked like you were getting possessed by a spirit!" The concern in her tone was so thick I could almost taste it. "What was going on just now?!"

  First off, I raised my hands, "tone it down," I hissed, not wanting to attract any more attention. Hopefully no one heard Laself just now. "And don't say such things so blatantly! That can get us all killed!"

  "A- I'm sorry." Laself's previous energy disappeared and she bowed in apology. "I shouldn't have done that, screaming like that would have been bad if I got heard by a passing bishop right?"

  Bishop? How ambitious, screw priests even, an acolyte hearing her would have been enough to get the church to move and exterminate us for being corrupted.

  "Also, spirits don't possess people Laself, that's a myth." The urge to roll my eyes at her was strong, I held myself back thankfully. "What you commonly see when people say someone is "possessed" is actually just a person undergoing magical corruption."

  Why no one has ever connected the dots even though it's so obvious is beyond me, I mean, really? The "possessed" become manic and unstable, suddenly gain super strength, and become feral. They're literally just aberrants aren't they? How the hell did ghosts get blamed for that?

  An embarrassed blush crept up Laself's neck, turning everything above her collar crimson, she cleared her throat. "... Okay, I suppose it's a myth," she didn't sound like she believed what she was saying. "Enough about that! I still want to know what happened to you earlier, and no, you can't dodge this question, so answer me."

  Huh, she grew a spine. I looked at Laself in a new light, she earned a bit of my respect even, if she keeps this up she might even be able to make me stop thinking of her as some kind of fragile object that needs to be protected!

  "Well..." I scratched the back of my head, I think I still need to clear my head before I can talk about Ifira properly. To buy time, I used one of the many tricks I have up my sleeve, "... I won't talk without everyone present, so maybe we can have this conversation during dinner?"

  Assuming that Laself would push her point and still ask me to explain was the wrong move because she nodded, "okay, the store is about to close soon anyway so we will have time to discuss whatever it is that's plaguing you later, I'll listen to you then, Rontress."

  "Yeah, thank you for understanding." The lack of energy in my voice wasn't because of the relief from Laself leaving me alone, rather it's because my expectations somehow flew out of the window and bombed a nearby village

  Will they believe me if I tell them about Ifira with the same energy as a parent scaring their child with stories about Boogeymen? There's an argument to be made that telling the story like it's some kind of creepy pasta video would also be good but it also feels like it's too much work.

  Yeah, okay, I'm stalling. I completely understand that and am aware of the fact that my own mind is rebelling against me. I'm still stressed and thinking about Ifira is making my heart race, in a bad way. I'm terrified of her.

  Still, if I don't tell them now then I will eventually, so I might as well rip the band aid off and just let them know that the only daughter— because her other siblings are now dead. — of the local lord has somehow found me interesting and it's possible for her to visit our store every now and then.

  Doesn't that sound fun?