My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

The feeble flickering of a fluorescent lamp. Red flag number one. A thick visible white miasma came with every flicker - a miasma that enveloped the empty space, a miasma that smelled horribly like cigarettes. Red flag number two.

And then was the number three…

"Why, good evening. Staying for the night, are you dearie?"

A jubilant wheezy whisper that resounded from just mere meters away, as I cautiously threaded across creaking planks and moth-eaten carpets, I came face to face with a wide toothy grin belonging to a shriveled, sullen-looking old woman sitting behind an ash glazed desk, with enough cigarette butts and ashtrays littered about to make a literal desert of ash.

She had a name-tag over a stained uniform, got her frazzled strains of white hair tied up semi-proper in a bun, and her wrinkly sagging expression was somewhat… I guess… in a way… hospitable?

So, putting two and two together, I figured I must have wandered into the lobby, and here I was edging closer to the check-in counter, not knowing at all what the hell was I getting myself into.

Fuck it, came this far… can't stop now. I pulled down my mask.

"Evening, uh…" I did a double-take at the badge pinned to her breast pocket. "Ms. Carol."

"It's just Carol to you, sweetheart."

She gave me a wink that was more than enough to send my blood-curdling in both revulsion and horror, with a coy smirk that made me briefly wish I didn't have eyes for a moment. Seriously I can already picture the therapy bills that'll be coming out from this encounter.

"Okay, uh, Carol," I said, straining to return a smile of my own. "Listen I'm looking for a friend. Probably checked in some time ago… goes by Irene, think she might be staying somewhere around the fifth floor. Heard of her?"

"Irene, Irene," croaked her raspy voice, opening a dusty ledger, while putting on her strap-on glasses that hung loosely around her neck, squinting, muttering, she browsed through the book with a harsh squint.

A little while later of just idling by with the dust bunnies and thick cobwebs, and all I had to show for it in return, was a resounding snap of the ledger clasping shut and an exaggerated frown shaping old brittle lips.

"Sorry dearie," She said through a pair of puppy-dog eyes. "No Irenes here. We don't get much coming this way anyway. I would have known. But hey, don't leave just yet - we got an offer of a room 50% off. Tempted?"

"Not here for a leisure stay," I responded, scrounging my head for any ideas. "Maybe an alias, maybe if I described her, um… black hair tied in a bun, brown eyes that kinda looks a bit intimidating… she has a slender figure too, bout my height… kinda pretty looking as well, I guess."

She listened intently to the description I've listed before breaking out into a fit short wheezing laughter that sounded like the dying wails of something much more sinister.

"You seem like a smart kid, dearie," She said, a cheekiness to her words. "Let me ask you, do you really think someone like that would be lounging around in a place like this? Honestly…"

Read my mind like it was an open dusty book.

"Yeah, I know right?" I said before thinning my lips a little bashfully. "Ah... no offense, by the way."

Another extra-sweet smile my way. "None taken."

So what now? The vampire in the backseat says one thing, old lady over here is saying another. Two claims in a conflict and I was wedged in the middle of it all.

Still, it didn't seem dear ol' Carol over here wasn't the type to be making up lies, on the other hand, Adalia wasn't the disingenuous sort either.

I believe she didn't see Irene at all, but I also believe that Adalia did in fact had sensed her.

Maybe the truth of the matter was just a little bit of both. Heck, the last time I saw Irene… I didn't recognize her at all either, did I? Probably was the same story here as well.

Wouldn't hurt to try.

I closed my eyes briefly, digging through thought, trying to perceive an image of her from our last personal encounter. When and where was it, exactly?

Oh yeah, grocery shopping - image acquired.

"How about a hooded person, with a mask and some dark sunglasses, wearing a bulky coat… some baggy jeans, and I'm guessing not the talkative type as well. You seen that individual lounging about around here?"

Could have high-fived the freaking air after seeing Carol form another toothy smile following that bizarre description. I take back what I said, she actually had a pretty good smile.

"Ah, now you're speaking sense," She said to me. "I know that one. She's been here for over a week now. Not an Irene, actually, that room there is occupied by a Ms. Ruria. Ruria Salnor."

"Ruria Salnor…" I muttered back, frowning. "Weird alias."

"Maybe not even an alias at all," Carol remarked, stretching a feeble hand to the flight of stairs on the left. "I have a feeling you two might have some things to deal with together. Don't know her at all, but she's a peculiar one. After she came around, all the guests I have cooped up on her floor usually check out looking like a million bucks for some reason, and I haven't the faintest idea why."

I think I do. But I think it'd be best if I just kept mum about what I know.

"Room 502," Carol waved her fingers as I began my ascent up another set of rickety steps. "Have fun. But not too much fun, hmm?"

The last thing I saw of her before I hauled myself up to the floor above was an even more mischievous smile… red flag number four.

Every new floor that I ascended had a similar layout to the one preceding it, to the point where I had to mentally count my steps to prevent myself from confusing one floor for another. It certainly didn't help either that there weren't any signs to keep track of where I'm at.

But as it turns… keeping count? Yeah, didn't need to. Really, really didn't need to. See the first four floors had narrow hallways that had this ambiance in the air that was deader than any cemetery. Could hear my heart beating in my chest just from how quiet it was.

The fifth floor on the other hand… I could physically feel my ears trying to fold and shrivel up into themselves having to hear such, um… noises... with intensity… such passion… such intense passionate… rigorous activities that I rather not mention.

Let's just say though that if the walls could speak… you'd rather not hear what they had to say. Besides, the walls here were thin enough anyway that they didn't really leave much to the imagination.

Having to traverse through the hustle and bustles, the moans and groans that echoed loudly throughout the halls, my imagination was ever the vivid illustrator, alright.

I'm glad there's so much love to be shared. God knows we need some in these trying times. But why now?

It's fine. Just think of Ria and Ash… Ria and Ash… yeah, Ria and Ash… hmm. No - don't fucking think of them that way! Goddamn it, brain. You're as depraved as the rest of 'em. For shame, for shame! When all is said and done, you're getting lobotomized. There are lives at stake here, focus!

506… 505… 504… 503…

Room 502 was strangely the only outlier in this hallway of outliers, it wasn't a source of any perverse sounding sounds like all the others were. In fact, I'd wager to say there wasn't a single noise emitting from the flimsy wooden door in front of me.

Was there even anybody in?

"Irene?"

Nothing. Three raps on wood. Still nothing.

Got an idea.

"Ruria?"

Didn't expect anything from it, wasn't exactly holding my breath for something to happen. Got so few expectations, that I was already halfway turning right around back to see if I could ask Carol for a spare key.

Then the handle sounded a clack, and the rusted hinges swung rigidly with a squeak.

Door was open, wide open, and so were my eyes, open, wide open.

"I… rene?"

The next few seconds were lost in a whirling blur to me. A disorientating sensation of blindness of sight, sound, and smell.

One moment I was out, and suddenly in the next, I was inside - feeling many, many things.

The burning sensation around the skin of my nape, chafed roughly by my shirt collar as it was violently seized by a firm grip, hauling me inwards faster than I could even register.

Then there was a softness, a warmness, a body up against mine, the feelings of hands gliding across every inch of my body, my face, so gentle and yet so feral.

All it took was a whiff, a single inhale, before a familiar overpowering aroma drove my senses into overdrive. Suddenly I was able to understand it, the ferociousness, the intensity, the animal-like tendencies that have overtaken the entire floor - and so much, I wanted so much right then, to take part in it as one of them.

I was one of them.

I pushed back. Gripped back. Soft moans, heavy breaths.

My hands gliding, my hands searching - I couldn't resist, I didn't want to resist, I wanted it to never end.

I was euphoric, ecstatic… I was…

I felt the softness of lips violently pressed against mine. Pushing, probing, urging me to return in kind.

A kiss.

Red flag number five.

I tore myself away, stumbling, wobbling, bashing my head to a wall, heaving heavily.

Resist… I have to resist this. Think of them… think of them!

"You didn't kiss me back." Her voice, a hint of betrayal, once so stoic and composed, was now drowned in a tone of unbridled lust. "Why didn't you kiss me back?"

She batted her eyes, those piercing hazel eyes of hers, twirling a single strand of her frazzled raven-black hair.

"Let's try again."

The wide smile on her face exuded so much want, so much desire… looking at her, just looking at her - exposing so much skin, human skin, her pheromones free to do what they were designed to do all along.

"I knew you'd come. I waited. I waited so long." She dragged her feet limply across the carpet as she clumsily waltzes herself closer towards me. "What took you so long? Days and days… I couldn't wait for you any longer."

Fuck. Fuck. She was one step away from becoming a bonafide exhibitionist, all that prevented that was some denim shorts and a lacy bra doing their absolute best keeping her modesty intact. Any less than that, and she'd be full-on irresistible for mere human eyes to behold.

Nearly, very nearly, she could have gotten me under her spell too. I think my previous interactions with her built up a little immunity to her alluring effects… still, I can barely keep myself under, let alone even look at her, right now I was holding my breath for so long, my lungs were threatening to implode on me.

"Irene," I muttered, slipping the mask back onto my face, "What happened to you, why are you suddenly like this?"

"Nothing happened to me!" She grinned, twirling around in place with her arms raised. "I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing! Why are you asking me this? I thought we were going to have fun?"

"What? What? What are you supposed to be doing? What are you doing here even?"

I chanced a small glance back in her direction and in that little small peek, I saw a mischievous smile staring right back at me… and it wasn't just a smile either, she took a hunch, got into a stance, and before I could even blink, she was leaping into my arms, sending both of us crashing to the floor in a resounding, messy thud.

When I next open my eyes, Irene was towering from above, sitting right on top of me, her face inches from mine, her gaze back into my own, and her breath… panting heavily, madly, her sensual lips slightly agape as they slowly shaped out an answer.

"I'm detoxing."