The cabin was a dilapidated structure abandoned in the middle of the woods with broken windows and a slumped roof.
Mica stepped inside the space, her teeth clinking against each other the only noise within. She was shivering too and dripping puddles of water onto the floor while standing there like a lonesome thing.
One side of the ceiling had caved in and water dripped down onto the molded floor.
Slowly she walked to the dark dry corner of the room and sank onto the ground like a setting sun, drawing her knees up to her chest and rocking sideways in a soothing motion.
"It's okay… you're okay…" her voice was shaky, her mind trying not to sink into despair. "It's okay… you're okay…" Her people had abandoned her and the beast had not devoured her.
Alive. You're alive.
That single thought like a lifeline whose threadbares she was grasping to.
"I'm alive. I'm alive." That was enough to spark a flame of hope in her chest, though small, and she nursed it carefully within.
Soon sleep began to creep along the edges of her vision and Mica began to nod off only to jerk awake as if startled by something. Wide-eyed and confused she stared at her empty surroundings.
"... just the wind…" More rocking. More soothing.
Her head dipped to the side.
… sleep…
Fisting her droopy eyes, she finally gave into the gentle order and wilted onto the floor in a c shape with her back turned from the door.
She slept long but fitfully. Waking every now and then to the bitter howl of wind beating against the caved roof until it grew quiet and dawn's first rays gently swept through the cracks on the walls.
When she woke her clothes were dry and a small ache throbbed across her shoulders and neck from sleeping wrong and on hard ground.
Mica lay on the ground for a long time just staring at the ceiling and listening to the waking of birds in the forest and the growling of her stomach.
"Well," she began, rubbing her empty belly, "at least I don't have to report to work no' more."
No more pig stys. Pig shit. Horse shit. Laborous work. For a sliver of a moment Mica saw the silver lining. All she had to do now was figure out her next steps; where to go and what to do.
Was there really any life beyond the walls of the human kingdom?
… little lamb…
There it was. That voice which arose unbidden across her thoughts, clouding over them like smoke until only his voice was audible.
Mica blinked and rose onto her elbows, looking about the room for the source but there was no one. She began to sink back down when it came again.
… go outside…
This time she could not deny that someone – something – was speaking to her.
"Hello?"
Only the dripping silence echoed back.
Tentatively rising to her feet, she moved towards the broken window and peered outside like a shy courtesan, eyes scouring about for an intruder but there was none. The instructions nonetheless remained the same.
Inching towards the door, she carefully pulled it open and gazed all about until her eyes dropped to the ground.
Mica stared at the box before her. Simple yet carefully wrapped in a red cloth and it seemed warm enough for there were wisps of steam rising from within.
She caught the scent of something hot.
Food.
"No way."
Without hesitation she stooped low and picked the box before straightening and taking a final look around the forest to ensure that nobody was watching her.
All caution went out the window once she settled back into the corner and tore open the box to find exactly what she had suspected.
But better.
"gods above…" honeyed slices of pork meat, fat steamed vegetables still glistening and mixed barley rice. Beneath the tray of carefully packed food was neat slices of cut fruit, a variety she had only ever seen the upper class eating.
Apples and oranges and a pomegranate.
Mica nibbled on the end of one meat then paused as a soft sing-song sigh erupting from within.
She ate with her fingers, unaware of the spoon placed beside the box, shoveling handfuls into her mouth until her cheeks swelled and beads of sweat began to form on her forehead.
She ate and the world around her faded into one particular point; the food on her lap.
The fruits came next, sweet and fleshy and the juices glistened down her inner wrist. When she was done with the meal she leaned back stunned, stomach slightly swollen, from the foreign concept of being full.
Her expression twisted briefly right before she belched loud and long. Her brows smoothed over once the discomfort in her belly mollified.
It wasn't long before the comfortable silence was interrupted by a gentle knock so low she barely heard it.
Mica fell silent, expecting to hear it again.
But his voice spoke instead.
… open…
That's when she noticed the still shadow at the bottom of the door and the silence of the birds all around the woods as if somehow sensing the danger she failed to perceive whilst in her stupor.
Her skin tightened, her heart sinking like a stone at the realization that someone was outside her door. She pursed her lips intent on being quiet, on hoping that the figure would move on once it realizes no one was inside.
… I can hear your heartbeat …
The door knob turned and it began to creak open, swaying inside.
Time slowed at that moment.
A gust of frigid wind cut through the room and pinched her cheeks a cherry red.
Mica began to cringe back against the wall in terror and fascination all at once as the figure unveiling itself.
The doorway had been filled by one presence whose shoulders were wide enough to touch each end. The top of his head nearly brushing the frame above, he stood tall and imposing at the threshold.
A chill rose up her spine as her gaze rose up to meet the pair of milky white ones.
Two long scars ran over each brow down to the curve of his cheekbones, deep and jagged enough for her to realize that such an injury had taken his eyesight. His pupils seemed of no particular focus and the lining around them had taken on a hue of deep red.
Blind.
The man – was he a man? – that stood before her could neither see nor perceive her presence.
Relief seeped into her veins just enough for her to calculate a way around him and out of the house. Her eyes slid sideways where the window stood with its edges broken and jagged.
With her head turned towards the window, Mica risked a glance at the man from her eyecorner only for her blood to run cold.
He was looking at the window as well.
Then, as if considering her plans, his head tilted in amusement and he smiled revealing rows of razor sharp teeth whiter than milk.
"Little lamb," he crooned, stepping inside as the edge of his coat brushed the dirt-streaked floor.
"I have been waiting for you."
The door slid shut behind him.