Chapter 65

Chapter 65: Chapter 65

The snow was so cold that Ingrid could barely feel her fingers.

Ingrid stood outside a familiar house with her thin clothes clinging to her body, her feet sinking into the thick layer of snow covering the ground. The door behind her had been slammed shut, and no matter how many times she knocked, nobody came to open it. Her hands were trembling, and her teeth chattered as she stared at the closed door, hoping that someone inside would take pity on her and let her back in. She couldn’t understand what she had done wrong, and the longer she stood there, the more frightened she became.

"Please, open the door," she begged, pounding against the wood with her frozen hands. "I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, please let me inside. It’s so cold out here. It’s really cold."

There was no response.

Ingrid’s eyes burned with tears as she pressed her forehead against the door. She could hear movement from the other side, which meant someone was inside, yet nobody seemed willing to acknowledge her existence. She wanted to scream, but the fear of making the person inside even angrier kept her quiet. All she could do was stand there and hope that whoever had thrown her out would eventually change their mind.

Instead, the door suddenly opened.

Ingrid stumbled backward, nearly falling into the snow as a figure emerged from the house. She couldn’t see the person’s face clearly, no matter how hard she tried, but something about their presence felt painfully familiar. There was a connection between them, something that went beyond simply knowing each other, and the feeling made Ingrid’s chest tighten with dread. She instinctively took a step forward, hoping that the person had finally decided to let her return inside.

Before she could speak, a bucket of water was thrown over her head.

The icy water soaked through her hair and clothes in an instant, sending a violent shudder through her body. Ingrid gasped, her hands flying to her chest as she struggled to breathe through the sudden shock. The water ran down her face and dripped from her chin, while her already frozen clothes became even heavier against her skin. She looked up at the figure, unable to understand why someone would do such a cruel thing to her.

"Why?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this to me?"

The figure stepped closer.

Ingrid tried to move away, but her feet seemed frozen to the ground. She could feel the person’s eyes on her, even though their face remained blurred and impossible to recognize. Then the figure bent down until their mouth was close to Ingrid’s ear, and the words that followed were spoken with such quiet hatred that they seemed to sink straight into her bones.

"Just go and die."

Ingrid’s eyes widened. The world around her seemed to stop, and for one terrible moment, she couldn’t even remember how to breathe. The figure’s words echoed through her head, growing louder with every passing second, while the snow beneath her feet seemed to swallow her whole.

"Go and die!"

"Ingrid!"

She jolted awake with a sharp shriek. Her eyes flew open, and she instinctively swung her hand toward the person standing in front of her. Her palm barely had time to move before a hand caught her wrist, stopping the slap just inches from its intended target. Ingrid stared at the face before her, her heart hammering against her ribs as she struggled to understand where she was.

Freya was standing directly in front of her. Not beside her, not a reasonable distance away, but so close that Ingrid could practically count every eyelash and pores on her face.

For several seconds, neither of them moved. Then Freya released Ingrid’s wrist and dramatically threw herself backward.

"Ahhh! My heart!" she cried, clutching her chest as she dropped to the floor. "Oh, the cruelty! The betrayal! I was only trying to help you, and this is how you repay me?"

Ingrid stared at her in bewilderment. Freya rolled onto her side, pressing one hand against her chest as if she had suffered a terrible injury. Her scarred lips twisted into an exaggerated pout, and she looked up at Ingrid with the most wounded expression the woman had ever seen.

"I saw you sweating so much that I thought something was wrong, so I came over to check on you," Freya continued dramatically. "I was worried about you, pretty lady! I was concerned about your health, your well-being, and your precious little life! And what did you do? You nearly slapped me across the face! Is this how you treat someone who cares about you?"

Ingrid opened her mouth, then closed it again.

She had been dreaming about something, and the sudden sight of someone practically sticking their face into hers had frightened her half to death. She hadn’t even realized that she had swung her hand until Freya caught it, and now the other woman was lying on the floor as though Ingrid had personally destroyed her entire life.

"I’m sorry!" Ingrid blurted out, quickly sitting upright. "I didn’t mean to hit you. I was having a bad dream, and when I woke up, you were right there in my face! I thought someone was attacking me, so I reacted without thinking. I’m really sorry, Freya. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

Freya immediately stopped clutching her chest. She lifted her head, examined Ingrid for a moment, and then sat up with a perfectly normal expression. "Oh, you were having a nightmare?"

Ingrid nodded, rubbing her forehead with one hand. Sweat was dripping from her eyebrows, and her heart still hadn’t settled completely. The dream had felt so real that she could almost feel the icy water soaking through her clothes, and the hateful voice remained lodged in the back of her mind. She didn’t want to think about it any longer, so she forced herself to concentrate on the room around her instead.

"I’m fine," she assured Freya. "It was just a bad dream. There’s no need to worry about it."

Freya studied her face for another moment before getting to her feet and brushing off her clothes.

"All right, then. If you say so, I’ll believe you." She paused, sniffed the air, and immediately scrunched up her nose. "However, there’s another problem we need to discuss, pretty lady."

Ingrid blinked. "What problem?"

Freya pointed at her. "You stink."

For a moment, Ingrid simply stared at her. "Huh?"

"I’m not trying to be rude but like, you stink a lot! The smell is driving me crazy! You know I’m a feline Beastman right? I can’t stand the smell anymore!"

Ingrid still stared at Freya, confusion showing on her face. Then she slowly lowered her head and sniffed her own clothes. The smell hit her so hard that she immediately gagged.

"Oh, my God!"

She clapped a hand over her mouth and nearly leaned out of her seat, her eyes watering as the awful stench reached her nose. It was a mixture of sweat, dried blood, dirt, and something so unpleasant that she couldn’t even begin to identify it. She sniffed her sleeve once more, hoping that the first smell had somehow been a mistake, but the second attempt was even worse.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THAT SMELL?"