The Inn Beyond Time and Space

In the final moment before death, Adrian Wells felt an endless, crushing darkness engulf him. It was heavy, almost tangible, like a viscous liquid pressing down on his very being.

He could feel his consciousness rapidly dissipating, aware that the body sustaining it had succumbed to the grievous injuries. As his biological functions failed, the thoughts tied to his flesh began to disintegrate—an undeniable law of nature.

Yet, on the brink of oblivion, something held him back. A force—or perhaps an intense, peculiar will—seemed to anchor his mind in place. In the haze of his fading awareness, Adrian remembered the frog that had devoured his heart last time and the bizarre "resurrection" that followed.

What had happened then? What had changed within him? Why had he survived?

These questions became an obsession, tethering his consciousness to the edge of the abyss. Even as his grip weakened, he clung to the desire to know what had happened to him—to understand how, after death, he had returned.

The darkness bore down on him, suffocating and impenetrable. Its viscous texture gradually grew cold and rough, as though he were being buried under layers of dense soil. His soul struggled to breathe under the crushing weight—until, suddenly, the pressure vanished.

In an instant of startling clarity, a thought surfaced in his drifting consciousness:

In his death, death died before him.

Adrian's death had died, and so the Adrian who had died emerged once more from the boundless darkness, returning to the realm of the living.

His "body" became light, and he felt himself accelerating out of the abyss. As he ascended, he glimpsed the surface of the darkness—there was something there, something he was skimming over at incredible speed. But before he could make sense of it, his eyes snapped open.

Cold night air blew through the holes in the temple's crumbling walls, carrying the sound of a hollow wind howling through the valley. Above, the chaotic, polluted sky loomed over the half-collapsed roof.

Adrian sat slumped in a corner of the ruined temple, his mind cloudy but quickly clearing. This sensation was painfully familiar—he had felt it not long ago.

This time, however, he recovered faster. Within moments, his breath steadied, and the memories of his ordeal came flooding back, including the suffocating embrace of the darkness.

Rising slowly, Adrian felt his stiff joints begin to awaken. It was as if his body were newly born, rapidly relearning how to "live." Strength returned to his limbs, his mind sharpened, and finally, he turned his gaze to the temple ruins outside—the place where his blood had spilled.

The ground was empty. The monstrous beast had vanished—or perhaps it was merely lurking, hidden as it had been before.

"…Eileen," Adrian murmured hesitantly, reaching out with his thoughts.

The response was immediate and explosive, Eileen's voice echoing in his mind: "Adrian! Oh my gosh, are you okay?!"

Her words tumbled out in a frantic rush: "You just stopped responding! I called and called, but there was nothing—I couldn't even sense where your mind was! I thought you were dead! Scared me to death! And then who would fix the TV when you're gone—wait, are you sure you're okay?!"

Adrian's face twitched involuntarily. "So your biggest worry was that no one would fix the TV?"

Eileen paused, then admitted, "Well… not entirely. I guess I was also worried you might actually be dead…"

Adrian: "…"

She really hesitated on that one.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Adrian bit back his irritation and asked as evenly as he could, "What if I told you I actually did die just now?"

Eileen didn't miss a beat. "Don't be ridiculous. You sound fine—alive and kicking."

"…Yeah, just messing with you," Adrian said, brushing off the topic. He hesitated briefly before asking another question. "How long?"

"Huh? How long what?"

"How long has it been since I told you I was hanging up?"

"Uh… I don't have a clock in here, but I'd guess about half an hour? Maybe? I'm not sure. I've been stuck in this painting for years, so my sense of time is a bit off. The sky doesn't look any different, though—it's still night, so it can't have been too long."

Adrian sighed. "You're telling me half an hour and a whole night feel about the same to you?"

Eileen didn't respond right away, but a moment later, a low, mocking chuckle echoed faintly in the background.

"That wasn't me!" Eileen exclaimed defensively. "It was the bear!"

Adrian waved a hand wearily. "I know."

"Oh, so you finally believe me now?" Eileen sounded pleased.

Adrian didn't bother explaining that it wasn't about belief. He simply found Eileen's constant chatter far more irritating than any creepy laughter from the stuffed bear.

With a shake of his head, Adrian pushed those thoughts aside and stepped out of the ruined temple once more.

Oddly, he felt stronger than before—better than he had even before the fatal encounter. His steps were lighter, his movements more confident, and even his vision seemed sharper.

It was as though he was adapting to this place: to its shadows, its jagged ruins, and the pervasive malice and hunger that tainted the air.

Adrian moved across the clearing, toward the forest beyond.

He knew death might find him again—perhaps with the very next step, the very next second.

"Adrian," Eileen's voice cut into his thoughts again. "Are you really okay?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Just a few scratches. I'm fine now."

"Maybe you should stay put, or find a safe spot to hide while I think this through. I might remember something about that valley you described…"

"Then you think," Adrian said lightly, "and I'll keep moving."

"Wait, but that might be dangero—"

"Eileen," Adrian interrupted, pausing in the middle of the clearing. He inhaled deeply, the cold, acrid air filling his lungs. Beyond the clearing, the forest loomed, dark and foreboding. A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Did you know? These past few months, I've been stumbling through everything, lost and aimless."

Eileen hesitated, clearly unsure of how to respond. "Uh… Should I have known that?"

Adrian didn't wait for her reply. He continued, as if talking to himself: "When you mentioned 'Otherworlds' and the idea of accidentally stepping into one, do you know what I felt?"

"What?"

"Excitement."

"…Huh?"

"I was thrilled," Adrian said, his smile widening. "You told me that some people, through sheer chance, might step onto the wrong floorboard or open the wrong door and fall into an Otherworld. And you said if they're lucky enough to figure out the rules, they might even make it back. Right?"

"I guess I did say that… but ordinary people rarely survive without training—most just die."

Adrian chuckled softly. "That's okay. I'll just figure it out. Dying a few times isn't so bad."

"...What?"

"Nothing." Adrian exhaled deeply, as though releasing months of pent-up frustration. "I've finally found something to do. Let's start here. It might take time, but I'll get out of this place."

"You sound… motivated? I guess that's good. Stay safe, though. Try not to die. You still owe me a body—and fixing the TV."

"Yeah, yeah. I'll handle it when I'm back," Adrian replied, waving her off mentally. "I've dabbled in sculpture and modeling before. I'll manage."

Eileen's excitement was immediate. "Wait—you've done doll-making?! Why didn't you say so earlier? How good are you? What kind of dolls can you make?"

Adrian hesitated, then admitted, "Mostly just following YouTube tutorials. I tell my brain I can do it, but my hands disagree."

Two seconds later, Eileen's tirade began.

But Adrian didn't mind. Relaxed for the first time in weeks, he moved forward. His gaze lifted toward the mountains, curiosity brimming.

That's when he saw it—a grotesque beast, towering several meters high, its monstrous form a tangle of twisted limbs and malformed features, glaring at him from the roadside.

Adrian stopped, staring at the abomination.

"Eileen," he called out, cutting into her rant.

"What now?"

"...Never mind. I'll hang up again."

"What? Wait—"