It's dark and I'm cold. What I feel is not a normal kind of cold, but rather a spine-tingling sense of excitement and fear, mimicking the sensation of coldness. I really don't understand how I ended up in this situation, but I'm here nonetheless, snuggled up underneath my blanket, pretending to sleep.

I feel a heavy pressure form in the air, and I slowly grip the blanket tighter. It's time. He's here. There's no going back now. There's no time for mistakes.

There's no clear indicator that the person I am waiting for has really appeared. All I have are my instincts. Still, I decide to listen to a little voice in my head, which tells me to stay calm and still. As I listen to the inner voice, I subtly notice how chillingly cold the tone actually is. Every other time I heard the voice it would speak haughtily, now though, it's as frigid and unapproachable as ice.

My tense muscles don't twitch in the slightest as time wanes on. My entire body is unmoving, like a carved statue withstanding the tests of time, or a corpse, aged and stiff. I feel the air around me stiffen across my skin as an invisible force brushes past my bed. Even though I already know the identity of said creature, I still can't help but feel a bit of fear towards this still relatively unknown force.

I hear as my comforter is brushed against, the skin across fabric. The soft sound of footsteps makes their way into my ear, lighter than a whisper and gentler than a lover's kiss. My eyes may be closed, but opening them wouldn't help in the slightest. The man who is presently stalking about my room is completely invisible, unseeable to the naked eye. Even so, there is definitely a solid figure somewhere, and that is what this entire plan hinges on.

The footsteps cease. Their location is right next to my bed, across from my face. I make sure not to move my eyes, that way my eyelids don't twitch, and I keep my breath completely even, with deep breaths at regular intervals.

In...

Out...

In...

Out...

The quiet rustling returns, this time moving towards the kitchen area, away from me. You now need to strike, don't let this opportunity go unchallenged. The voice has regained its arrogant tone, which it readily uses to speak to me. Of course, I also can naturally tell that this is the exact moment I have been waiting for.

With decisive movements, I yank the blanket away from my body with one hand. With the other, I point a white bottle towards where I heard the steps not even a moment before. I fiercely squeeze the plastic, and a crimson liquid sprays out from the attached nozzle. A heavy irony odor fills the room as the incredibly potent fluid scatters across the space, covering everything in a shade of red.

Perhaps shocked by my sudden action, but my target doesn't move an inch as it is spattered and its form becomes clear. Seeing how things are going according to plan, I suck in a breath and use all of my energy to let out a cacophonous "Now!".

Immediately after, the front door, which was left unlocked and cracked, slams open with fierce brutality. A massive man sprints into the room. His clothes are torn and stained, and his body is wrinkled and scarred. There are clear signs of old age, yet such natural limitations don't seem to hinder him in the slightest as he drags a massive double-sided ax behind him, causing it to loudly scrape across the floor.

Roland's bloodshot eyes lock onto the now visible creature. It is only just beginning to understand that it's been ambushed, but that doesn't matter as it bolts towards the still-open bathroom door, which it had previously exited through, with an inhuman speed. Droplets of the disgusting blood I had sprayed onto it flick off of them as they run. Such speed is useless, however, as Roland swings his ax in a horizontal slash, blocking the entrance to the bathroom in a single move. Taking advantage of his adversary's brief halt, Roland once again closes the distance while pulling in his weapon. He charges in with a roar, swinging at the red outline which slips between his attacks.

Perhaps Roland trips over some unseen object in the dark room, but the invisible figure suddenly lunges forward with its hands outstretched aiming at Roland's neck as he lurches forward. Roland twists his body sharply but is unable to completely avoid the blow as three deep gashes appear out of nowhere on his cheek. The claw marks are jagged, and the claws themselves are most likely in the shape of a hacksaw, which are plentiful decorations in Roland's room.

"Ugh!"

Roland lets out a frustrated grunt as his body is shoved aside and the invisible man sprints towards the bathroom. The blood was already difficult to see with the dim lights I always keep on. Now it is nigh impossible to make out the man in the darkness, such is his speed.

Working as bait was the best thing offered to me, as I am guaranteed Roland's protection to a certain extent. Now though, if this monster gets away, it'll most likely use every resource available to take revenge on me. Roland, who is only able to fight using ambushes due to his lack of a Stigma, would be powerless to stop my death. The reality of the situation strikes a forgotten nerve in my mind, and my instincts briefly take over.

My mind works fast as it tries to come up with an immediate solution. My conscious mind is completely powerless at this moment. All I need to do is delay the thing for a second, that way Roland can reengage and finish it off. I can make out the figure just next to the door, a mere few steps away from escaping.

It's not physically possible for me to stop it myself, at least not using my body's capabilities. My eyes flick down to the bottle in my hand. It's not full, so even if I hit them they wouldn't sustain any damage. Still, if I can either trip them or cause them to pause, that will be enough. Do I aim for the ground, or do I aim for their body? They can easily step over the bottle if it doesn't land directly underneath their foot. On the other hand, I can't fully make out their body, so the chances of me hitting them are difficult to predict.

The voice whispering in the back of my head sounds delighted at the prospect of a gamble. I don't know when it was that I started listening to the voice, but it feels as if I've heard it all my life. I can't help but give the unknown resident in my brain a bit of attention. The strange thing is, however, that I can never fully make out their words. All I get is a vague impression of what they're trying to say, as well as a brief understanding of their current temperament. Despite such a chilling realization, that there's another person taking residence in my head, I can't be calmer. Perhaps the stranger in my brain has tampered with my mind, but I find myself incapable of hating them. Instead, I unconsciously view them as a friend with a bad temperament.

I throw the bottle, my muscles rigid with the perfect amount of tautness. The ease of my actions as I casually toss the bottle allows me to understand that I will not lose this gamble. The idea of placing everything on luck excites me, and I take the leap of faith. The strength of my arms doesn't matter much due to the distance, neither does the position of my body since I'm sitting rather comfortably. It's truly a shot in the dark.

There's a loud noise as the thing trips onto the bottle and its body flails across the room. It pauses a bit, clearly taken aback and disgruntled. That's all that's needed, however, as Roland rises up with a roar of fury, and slams the sharp edge of the ax into the area covered in the most blood. There's no chance he would miss.

"Ahhhh?!"

Out of nowhere, a pencil-like arm appears spinning through the air. It seems Roland hit it somewhere on the shoulder, which makes sense, considering the position of the stranger when I first attacked. In the next instant, a dull thump rings out as the thing drops to the ground, screaming in agony. It rolls around on the floor, covering the entire room in bright blood, including itself. A heavy stench rises in the air, a mix of iron and urine. I find myself unperturbed, if a little sorry, as I listen to the screams.

"Hahahahaha! Found you!"

Roland's maddened laugh echos around the room as he swings his weapon, the very same weapon he once pried from a similar monster's cold, dead hands, and brings the blade down with a heavy thump. The screaming stops. All that remains in the room to signify life, is the sound of Roland's ragged breathing.

A faint tremor shakes my chest, and I swallow down the rising bile and force myself to look at Roland. The instant I see him, that dark, dangerous figure, it's as if a switch flips in my brain and I'm suddenly washed away in a wave of calmness and coldness. I speak out, my voice frigid and even.

"Done?"

He looks at me briefly, and in his eyes, I see a flash of confusion. That's natural though, my personality towards him has been constantly fluctuating. There's nothing I can do about it at the present moment though. I have no control over my forgotten survival instincts.

"Yeah."

"What's next? Are we killing more?"

It's not a plan I'm particularly fond of, but I have to appease my newfound master by complying to the best of my abilities. Roland briefly pauses at the word "we", most likely considering telling me off for assuming that I even did any work. But he seems to have dropped the idea as he reaches down towards the invisible corpse, grabs it by the hair, and separates the head with his ax. With the link between the head and the body severed, both pieces flash into view, like the dismembered arm lying somewhere in my room. I take a look at the now visible body and am shocked to see the surprising lack of clothing.

The man is only dressed in some tight, white underwear. Peeking out between his skin and the fabric is his golden room key, but that's the only object on his person. The man himself is also rather off-putting. His skin is a pale white, different from mine in that he looks more sickly, or ghost-like. His figure is mere skin and bones, a clear sign of starvation. Why would he be starving though? I may not have seen one yet, but I do know that there are restaurants in this hotel.

The sudden thought of food brings a pang to my stomach, and I suddenly realize that I haven't eaten in a day. As soon as I think of food though, the sight of the body enters my eyes, and my hunger vanishes in an instant. A terrifying possibility suddenly enters my mind: This place seems to actively desire its tenets to kill and eat each other. What if the food the restaurants serve is also human flesh? That way, even the people who haven't killed anyone can acquire a Stigma?

To distract myself from such a horrifying line of thought, I draw my eyes back to the corpse. The man's cheeks are caved in, and his eyes are bulging. Clear terror and pain can still be read from their distant gaze. He died in agony.

"Besides killing more, we need to learn more about this, thing. I already knew a lot about that Anna I killed. But this one is very unknown."

"If he was unknown, how did you know he would attack me?"

"He was strong enough to warrant the creation of a new rule. From it, I was able to understand that he attacks by appearing from the bathroom..."

"Okay, but that doesn't explain the blood. How did you know he was invisible?"

"Hmmm... I tried killing him before. He got away. That was back when the rule first appeared. Not many lived to tell the tale, so I was in the dark."

"I see."

I don't try to pry further, as asking any more questions is pointless. The man is dead, and that's the end of it.

"Where's his room?"

I point to the key card. If we're going to learn more about him, starting in his living area would be best. Going there is taking a risk, though. From what I gather, going one floor higher isn't as dangerous as going 10 floors higher, but that's only if you have a Stigma. Since I'm essentially powerless, everything in this hotel can easily kill me. So, if the room is way too high, we'll have to put off the task until a later date, where I think of a solution.

"20-7. Not too far. We'll go there now."

It's higher than I am comfortable with, but Roland seems to think the monsters on that level are manageable. Rather, there's something else I need to worry about.

"Are we leaving now? I'm starving and tired. It's only been a day since I met you, so I've gone several days without eating. I'm also exhausted."

"Right... You don't need to eat here."

"What? What is that supposed to mean? Humans need to eat that's a natural fact."

"Maybe, but not here. I've gone years without food. I'm still alive."

"..."

Roland's tone is grave as he easily states the absurd. I can't help but feel a tingle run down my spine as he stares straight at me. Looking into his eyes, I feel as if I've gained a deeper understanding of the cause of his madness. Of course, anyone would go insane having not eaten for years. Stack that onto the fact that he's trapped in a hotel filled to the brim with monsters. I feel a bubble of sympathy well up in my stomach. Sadly, sympathy is not food.

"... Fine, I'll tough it out for now, at least until I can find an alternative. What about sleep? Is that off-limits too?"

I don't think it is. If Roland tells me he also doesn't sleep, I'll have to blame it on paranoia. I've already gone to sleep before.

"No. But you should make sure that you wake up at the drop of a needle. Being able to fight at the moment's notice is life-saving."

I subtly heave out a sigh of relief. If I had no sleep coupled with no food, I'd very likely end up in a state similar to his. I can't imagine being that mentally unhinged.

"In that case, we should take a break for now. A few hours- three hours. Since I'm apparently not going to meet my neighbors, I should take this time to get dressed in more fitting attire, as well as rest off this tiredness."

Even now I'm still wearing daily wear, in all its bloody, dirty glory. The fabric is cut in multiple places, and it's stained beyond recognition. When I get changed, I'll choose something more suitable, like some cargo pants and a hoodie. I'll also need to clean up my hand. I don't want to get an infection, though it may already be too late.

Roland takes a minute to consider the situation, and I read the thoughts that cross his face, which still has blood dripping down it. From his point of view, I'm a simple woman that he both rescued and used as bait. Not saving me from Anna immediately, and instead of waiting until the very last moment shows how little he thinks of my life. Still, he will not kill me, as he has a faint glimmer of humanity in his heart. There's no reason that he should listen to my requests, but there's no solid reason for him not to. The dead man's room isn't going anywhere as far as I know, and he'll have enough time to prepare for his next encounter. Plus, having his bait be in the best state possible is only beneficial to him, seeing as how I'm still following his orders and have actively helped him catch the target.

"Fine. You'll sleep for four hours. I'll be back to pick you up then. Don't answer the door for anyone else, and don't even answer to me. There are some in this hotel that can mimic voices. I'll give you a code, let me in when you hear it."

"Fine. Let's go with that."

With a nod, Roland tells me the password, collects the body and all its missing pieces, and leaves the room, locking it behind him. As soon as he's gone, I once again feel a heavy emptiness in my heart. This time, however, the faint voice at the back of my head reminds me that it's here. I'm comforted by its presence.

"Well, I suppose I should get cleaned up. I have four hours, one can be for washing up and getting my clothes, the remaining three can be for resting."

As much as it pains me, I simply don't have enough time to clean up my room. Stripping naked, I try my best to avoid the gore as I make my way into the bathroom. Once inside, my eyes are naturally drawn to the mirror, where I expect to see my beautiful reflection. Instead, I merely see the shattered remains of the blacked-out glass. The surface is cracked, and it's as if someone painted over its exterior with tar.

"I suppose his Stigma allowed him to travel through mirrors? Why was he invisible though..? Hmmm... Let's look for answers when we visit his room later."

With that, I get into the shower and begin to scrub my body. The water is warm, yet my heart remains cold.