The Nest

Follia entered the dark, silent house, and threw her keys onto the counter. She then pulled two bags of piping hot chestnuts out of the lining of her jacket.

Follia was exhausted.

Her thirty-minute walk home felt like an odyssey, with the prevalent danger of stopping midway and mindlessly devouring both bags, which, like an idiot, she kept in her jacket. Where it provoked her with its warm plumes of salty, savory vapor, for an agonizing, hateful, and somewhat masochistic half-hour.

Whoever said she didn't have self-control was a lie.

Peeling off her outerwear Follia found herself wondering why she put herself through such a thing, to begin with, the answer was behind the basement door.

Follia peered towards the basement,

'He's down there, right? What is he doing?'

Ordinarily, she wouldn't have thought about the idiot, he was haughty, dramatic, useless, and worst of all exhausting to deal with, she blamed Eve, for this sudden 'eagerness' to be social, the fact that she even contemplated this was absurd to her.

Yet, here she was.

Follia glanced at the second paper bag she had bought, on a whim, she felt satisfied buying it then, but now the little thing was looking back at her with a provoking expression, saying, ' But you were done with feelings, or are we regressing now?'

For some reason, everything wished to mock her.

'Mind your business...'

'This is great! We haven't died of embarrassment before!~'

The two continued with their petty argument, refusing to let the other win.

'Indecent chestnuts! Who raised you to have such a foul tongue!'

'I'm using you to coerce him for the articles of our covenant- there's nothing more!'

'Sure, hun.'

'...'

It seems Follia lost horribly to a bag of nuts.

Letting out a deep huff, Follia snapped back into reality, where she had been glaring at a bag for roughly fifteen minutes.

Honestly, Follia knew that giving food to someone who can make things appear and disappear on a whim was a waste of time, but would it be out of character if she felt bad for laughing at him?

Of course, she enjoyed the entertainment of making him angry and flustered just by smirking in his proximity, but after being ignored for a week, one could say self-awareness made her feel guilty.

Once again, she looked at the cellar door and took a deep breath.

"It's about time we made some arrangements, anyway."

With bag in hand, Follia pushed open the cellar door and made her way down the foreboding stairwell.

With each step, Follia felt as if she was getting closer and closer to death like she was taking her final stroll before being executed.

Follia's right heel was first to realize that they had reached the bottom of the stairs, cool dewy cement dampened her socks, and she almost recoiled in disgust.

Since the last time Follia had been down there, something changed. The air was thin, there was a stagnant sickly sweet-smell, and it felt colder- as if the cellar became indifferent to the short but intimate history it had with her. The most notable difference was the throbbing electric felling, raising the hairs of Follia's arms, telling her, "Run!"

Follia skipped tracing the wooden paneling, which comprised the walls for the light switch, and made her way to the farthest left corner of the cellar, this was his hiding spot since last week, he never left, and she never entered, until now that is.

The 'nest' was an array of items from matted fur, quivering capillaries, and strange silk securing it to the wall. Follia grimaced at the nauseating smell seeping from its trachea into the air, she hesitantly reached out her hand and applied a minimal amount of pressure to it.

"Squiiishh!"

Good news, she found where the smell was coming from, not so good news, fluorescent blue goo now pooled between Follia's fingers, squirming under the palm of her hand, moving, like it was alive. It made her head pound, her senses were numbing, and her eyes widen in confusion.

Before Follia could retract her hand, something began forcefully pulling her into the horrendous abode of Satan.

Shutting her eyes and mouth, Follia could feel the goo wiggle and twist, finding its way into her orifices, pain shot through her brain before everything went black.

***

'It feels nice here.'

Follia's eyes fluttered open.

Her eyes met the legs of a cyan colored hallway dresser.

'When did I get furniture?'

Sitting up, Follia realized many things about her surroundings were off.

The lights were on, the walls were clean, the floors were splinterless and shiny.

There was also furniture here, and a warm buttery smell of baked goods filled her nostrils.

Yep. This definitely wasn't her house.

Follia began remembering how she arrived at such a heavenly place.

"No way. It's a new dimension?!"

Follia grasped the forgotten bag that was still in her hand.

Stumbling to her feet, in awe, Follia explored the entrance of this place.

Wasn't this too different? The 'rats nest' she saw before was akin to a horror movie, but now it was so pretty.

She blithely decided to follow the smell and see where it led her.

It's not like a child-hungry witch was waiting for her on the other side of that door.

What could go wrong?

***