Hotel Between Worlds

After walking into the kitchen and closing the door behind him, Darian turned on the range hood. The loud hum of the machine filled the room, and gradually, he felt his heart begin to settle.

It was as if that thin wooden door and the noisy rumble of the exhaust fan had temporarily sealed off a chaotic and bizarre world outside. He was finally back in a space entirely his own, where he could even pretend, if only for a moment, that he wasn't in the strange and massive "Border City," but back in the familiar place he called home.

This big house was different from his real home in every way except this small kitchen. Its layout was very close to what he remembered, so once he'd gotten somewhat settled in this world, he tried his best to make it look like the kitchen he was used to.

Every time he cooked here, he pretended he was still in his real home. Pretended he hadn't opened his front door that morning. Pretended he hadn't stepped into a city filled with eerie shadows. Sometimes, as he busied himself with the cooking, he would even feel that if he just lifted his head, he would see the familiar street view through the window and the old neighborhood bathed in the warm orange glow of sunset, sunlight flowing over the outer walls of apartment buildings just as he remembered...

But the scene outside the window always shattered those fleeting illusions. Now, when he looked out, all he could see was a barren patch of ground and a few low, old houses not far away. There were no apartment buildings here - just a mess of tangled power lines. And that warm, pleasant sky he remembered… he hadn't seen it in a long time.

The sky in this city was always either blindingly bright or oppressively dark.

Darian sighed and pulled the blinds over the glass window, choosing to ignore the murky twilight outside.

He picked and washed the vegetables, heated the pan and added oil. As soon as the chopped scallions began to sizzle and release their aroma, he quickly added the rest of the ingredients to the pan. The sharp sizzle from the wok rang out and then he heard the sound of a TV show coming from beyond the door.

Despite how strange this city was, it still had all the usual information sources : TV, smartphones, and so on. During the early days, Darian had learned nearly everything he knew about "Border City" by watching TV and browsing news on his phone. Even now, it remained one of his main ways to stay informed about the world around him.

"Darian! The TV's too quiet! Turn it up for me, pretty please!"

A loud, dramatic voice suddenly rang out from outside, making Darian jump. His hand trembled, and he nearly spilled the food out of the pan.

He had almost forgotten that Elara was still out there.

Back when he cooked, there certainly wasn't anyone talking outside the kitchen.

"Wait a sec!" Darian called back, not at all politely. Then he muttered under his breath, "...She sure makes herself at home, doesn't she…"

But soon enough, he tugged the corner of his mouth into a wry smile.

Fine, whatever. At least it brought a bit of life into this house, some kind of presence, at least.

A little while later, Darian came out carrying the steaming food. He set the bowls and plates on the dining table, then casually turned up the TV volume by two notches before sitting down with his back to the screen, facing Elara's picture frame instead. He didn't have the habit of watching TV while eating, but he was fine with leaving it on for background noise. At least this way, he wouldn't be fighting for a spot with Elara, who could only see the screen from her fixed angle.

Inside the painting, Elara clutched her stuffed bear and craned her neck to eye the food on the table. Her gaze shifted between the TV and the dishes, and she mumbled, "Looks like quite a spread…"

"Just some homemade food," Darian replied casually. "I like cooking."

"Oh." Elara responded with a quiet "oh," then obediently went back to watching TV. But once Darian started eating, she began sneaking glances at the table. After holding back for a long while, she finally couldn't resist and asked, "So I'm just supposed to sit here watching you eat?"

Darian lifted his eyes and waved his chopsticks in front of Elara's frame. "Want a bite?"

Elara stared at him, then lowered her head and sulked silently.

"…Alright, alright, just for the sake of it," Darian said, a bit helpless when he saw her expression. He sighed and went back to the kitchen, returning with an empty bowl. He scooped some food from his own bowl into it and placed it in front of her frame. "There you go—a bowl and chopsticks, just for you. You can imagine the smell, at least. Either way, I'm the one who'll end up eating it."

Elara frowned at the bowl in front of the frame. After thinking it over, she figured it was acceptable. She jumped down from the chair and walked up to the edge of the painting. Her face took up nearly half the frame as she looked at Darian seriously and said, "Alright, fine—thanks. You're actually… kinda thoughtful."

Darian lowered his head and took a bite, mumbling a vague response. But when he looked up again, he saw Elara's head peeking out from the painting and the bowl of food placed neatly in front of her frame. Something about the whole scene suddenly felt off...

Elara didn't notice anything strange. Instead, she tilted her head, confused by how dazed he looked. "What are you staring at?"

Darian quickly lowered his head and took two more bites, then glanced at her again.

The dark picture frame, the deep shadowed background, the doll-like girl's head, and the bowl of food in front of the painting.

It looked exactly like one of those solemn memorial portraits "In Loving Memory.jpg."

The muscles in his face twitched a couple of times, but after holding it in for a while, he still didn't dare say what he was thinking. Not because of any other reason. mostly because Elara had a sharp tongue when she cursed.

There was nothing else to do now but eat. He had to pretend nothing happened and bury his face in the food, all while avoiding eye contact with the living memorial across the table.

The whole meal felt like some kind of memorial service banquet.

After finally finishing dinner, Darian wiped his mouth and hurried to clear away all the bowls and plates in front of Elara's picture frame. He tossed them into the kitchen sink, planning to leave them there to soak until the next morning. His back was still aching, and standing hunched over the sink to wash dishes was a bit much for him at the moment.

He could skip the dishes, but he couldn't ignore the trash. Especially this time of year, leaving a bag of kitchen waste overnight would be a disaster. Enduring the pain in his lower back, he gathered up the garbage and carried the bag toward the door.

From the living room, Elara glanced up from the TV and asked curiously, "Hey, where are you going this late?"

"I still have to report to you in my own home?" Darian shot back, clearly annoyed by how overly familiar this painting-dweller had become. Still, he held up the garbage bag for her to see. "Just taking out the trash."

"Oh, well, come back soon," Elara said, eyes already back on the screen. "This house is huge, and I get scared being alone. What if a thief breaks in…"

Darian rolled his eyes. He thought to himself, In a creepy house like this, if anyone did break in, the first thing they'd see is some ghostly figure moving around inside a painting they'd probably die of fright before even making it inside. With Elara looking like that, any thief would end up calling the cops themselves…

But he didn't have the heart to say that out loud in front of her.

Shaking his head and muttering internally, Darian made his way to the door. After changing into his outdoor shoes, he reached out and grabbed the handle.

He applied a bit of force, turned it, and pushed the door open.

For some reason, his mind suddenly flashed back to two months ago an ordinary morning, no different from any other in his seemingly uneventful life.

Just like now, he had opened his front door, stepped outside… and found himself in a vast, suffocatingly strange city he had yet to escape.

The bizarre memory flickered through his mind. Darian let out a self-deprecating laugh and shook his head, then stepped outside.

The sharp crack of dry branches breaking beneath his feet shattered the silence of the valley. The cold night wind carried a foul, decaying, blood-like stench that made his skin crawl. The chill in the air made Darian, dressed in nothing but thin indoor clothes, shiver uncontrollably. It took him several seconds to kick his frozen brain back into gear.

He looked around and saw that he was now standing in a wasteland of crumbled stones and ruin. In the darkness beyond lay what seemed to be a sinister, grotesque forest, and on both sides, towering mountains loomed under the night sky like silent, monstrous giants glaring down at the valley, exuding a suffocating sense of pressure and oppression.

Darian stood frozen in the cold night air. Slowly, he turned back toward the direction he had come from.

What met his eyes was a heap of collapsed bricks and rubble. It looked like the ruins of a dilapidated temple abandoned a hundred years ago. A battered door or more accurately, a crooked doorframe barely holding up half a door panel stood alone in the wreckage. As the wind passed through the gaps between the broken door and the shattered stones, it let out a hollow, mournful wail.

Darian stared wide-eyed. "Where the hell did I end up this time…"

And then, he slowly began to understand.

The moment he opened the door, the same thing that had happened two months ago happened again.

He had been thrown into a strange place once more.

And this time, it was even worse than before. The enormous, bizarre Border City he had ended up in two months ago, though strange and different from the one he had grown up in was still a modern city where people could survive.

But this place… was clearly something else entirely.

He had been thrown into the wilderness.

A dense forest ahead, treacherous mountains on either side, and behind him only the collapsed ruins of a temple that might have been abandoned centuries ago. Darian glanced around and thought this terrain looked like it was meant for a pack of mountain bandits or some wolves and fox demons to spawn on the spot…

And the only thing he had with him was a bag of kitchen trash he'd just carried out from home.

Darian stood there for a moment, and the words forming in his mind were extremely colorful.

But just as those "colorful expressions" were about to come pouring out

A sudden voice echoed inside his head.

"Darian! The TV lost signal! When are you coming back?"

(End of Chapter)

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