The Inn Beyond Time and Space

Adrian gave Eileen a quick "signing off," but this time, he didn't immediately die. Not because the monstrous beast in front of him had suddenly turned vegetarian, but because the horrifying creature seemed inexplicably… confused.

It stood motionless in the night wind, dozens of chaotic, overlapping eyes fixed on Adrian with an eerie, perplexed intensity. Strangely enough, Adrian could almost read the creature's "expression." Those eyes radiated a kind of bewilderment—like someone struggling to reconcile an appetite with a balance sheet that just wouldn't add up.

Eileen's voice was still echoing frantically in his mind, but Adrian couldn't focus on her words. All his attention was locked on the grotesque monster before him. Every ripple of muscle, every pulsating vein, every twitch of its sinewy frame etched itself into his vision.

Despite bracing himself for such encounters since his "resurrection" in the ruined temple, Adrian still felt the crushing weight of tension as he faced death once again.

This time, however, something was different. The fear, though still present, had dulled significantly, overtaken by an unfamiliar sensation coursing through him—excitement.

Then he felt it.

The tightening of muscles. The coagulation of blood. Hunger roiling deep within the creature, surging up to its fragmented consciousness. An impulse to feed.

In that split second, a surge of instinct rippled through Adrian, drawing a precise outline of the danger.

The creature was about to strike. A feint from the left, while the real attack would come from a barbed, razor-sharp tail swinging in from behind.

As the monster lunged, one of its grotesque mouths tearing open at the end of a malformed limb, Adrian reacted. He didn't think—he simply moved, following the instinct screaming in his mind. His body twisted sideways just as the creature leapt, and then he dove forward in one fluid motion, moving faster than he thought possible.

Only then did Adrian realize: the pain in his waist from his previous injury was completely gone. Ever since his "resurrection," his body had been functioning in peak condition, better than ever before.

The beast missed. Its tail, poised for a stealthy strike, skimmed past Adrian's back. He felt the wind of its passing, every hair on his body standing on end. The closeness of death sent chills down his spine, yet he was stunned by one thought above all:

I dodged it?! How?!

There was no time to process the question. Another wave of danger surged from behind, leaving him no room to evade. He scrambled to his feet, barely managing to twist around in time to see a claw the size of a boulder crashing down toward him.

With no other choice, Adrian raised his arms instinctively, trying to block the blow.

The impact was like a meteor strike. Dust and debris exploded outward, scattering leaves and dirt across the clearing. Pain tore through Adrian's body as though a dozen bones had shattered at once. He staggered back two steps, barely staying upright.

But he had blocked it.

Disbelief filled Adrian's mind as he stared at his trembling arms. His left hand was bent at an unnatural angle—definitely broken—but the searing pain was already fading. He watched in awe as the twisted bones began to realign and heal themselves.

He couldn't forget the monster's sheer strength from their first encounter. Every fiber of its muscular bulk was capable of pulverizing a human body in an instant. There was no logical way he should have survived its attack.

But the monster didn't give him much time to ponder. Letting out a frenzied roar, it charged again, fury and hunger radiating from its malformed form.

Adrian rolled to the side, narrowly dodging a tail swipe that gouged a trench in the earth. Before he could fully recover, the beast's tail snapped back, sweeping his legs out from under him.

He hit the ground hard, the air knocked from his lungs. As he struggled to rise, the monster's body split open along its midsection, revealing a writhing, tentacle-like appendage. The grotesque tongue lashed out, coiling around Adrian's torso and dragging him toward the gaping maw lined with jagged teeth.

Planting his hands firmly against the ground, Adrian resisted with all his strength. The tentacle constricted tighter, threatening to snap him in half. He could feel himself being pulled closer to the beast's slavering mouth.

At the last possible moment, Adrian braced his legs against the rocky ground and pushed with everything he had. The force of his kick shattered the stone beneath his feet and sent a shockwave up the creature's body, causing it to stagger.

Seizing the opening, Adrian grabbed a sharp piece of rock from the ground. With a guttural roar, he slashed at one of the beast's grotesque, trembling eyes, driving the stone deep into its gelatinous surface.

The beast howled, its anguished cries reverberating through the valley. Blood sprayed from its midsection as its tongue recoiled, severed and writhing.

For a brief moment, Adrian locked eyes with the beast—or rather, with several of its many eyes. The same hunger that had driven the creature now mirrored in Adrian's own gaze.

The scent of blood filled his nostrils. It was intoxicating, electrifying. Deep within, a primal instinct stirred, one that he had never known existed.

It smells so good, he thought.

Adrian's chest heaved as he panted heavily, his pulse pounding in his ears. Something inside him was awakening—a fervent, ravenous joy at the thought of feeding.

His grip on the rock tightened, crushing it to dust. Everything around him slowed, his vision narrowing as he lunged at the monster.

Predator met predator.

They collided in a frenzied embrace, biting, clawing, tearing. Adrian felt the beast's massive jaws clamp down on him, his bones snapping like twigs. But the pain barely registered.

Because he had already sunk his teeth into its flesh.

This wasn't a desperate, last-ditch act of defiance. This time, Adrian was calm.

He would die. The monster would kill him again, maybe even many more times. But he would return, every time stronger and wiser.

Bit by bit, he would consume the beast.

As the creature's countless eyes quivered with growing unease, Adrian realized something strange: it was afraid.

Even as its teeth shredded his body, its gaze held a flicker of terror.

Adrian knew he couldn't win yet. His body was being torn apart, and the darkness of death was closing in once more.

But this time, he had lasted far longer than he ever expected.

"Eileen…" he called out in his mind as his consciousness began to fade.

"Adrian! Adrian, are you okay? I've been calling you—"

"I'm fine," he rasped, his voice weakening. "I just spoke too soon earlier. Now I really am hanging up…"

Darkness enveloped him.

But just before it consumed him entirely, a voice rang out—sharp, clear, and undeniably real.

"Don't worry! I'll save you!"

Adrian's fading awareness snapped back for a brief moment, jolted by the sound.

Someone's here?!

He forced his eyes open, straining to see through the haze of pain. A figure was rushing toward him—a tattered, scrappy girl sprinting across the valley.

And behind her… were those tails?

A fox? A person?

No, it was a missile.

Adrian's last thought, as the girl accelerated mid-air, her head down in a charging headbutt:

"Oh, hell no…"

The girl didn't see him in time.

Her supersonic headbutt slammed into Adrian's chest.

And then he no longer had a chest.

"Miss… you… hit the wrong target…"

And with that, Adrian was rescued to death.