My name doesn't matter

Part 8

I remember my leg burning.  There was a warm, meaty smell in the air.  It smelled a little like stew but also like steaks on a grill.  I touched my leg, and it hurt.  I could feel the holes in it from where the teeth had been.

The sound of something being poured into a container, then the sound of footsteps, and then the sound of a door opening all came from my right.  I remember that because the sounds to my left were stiff and echoing.  I opened my eyes and saw a ceiling.  It had wooden cross beams.  I looked over to my right and saw Key standing there with a bowl in his hands.

"Oh, you're still alive?"  He joked as he walked over to my side.

"Where are we?"  I asked.

"Treetop inn."

"What?"

"The inn in Treetop."

While that did very little to clarify anything, I let it go.  I knew my leg hurt.  I knew I was tired.  I knew my pants had vanished.  Looking to my left, I found a barrel with a candle on it.  The flame of the candle did nothing with the light coming in through the window.

"It's been a while.  Maybe four days."  Key said as he closed the door.  "Time flies when you're burying a body."

"What happened?"  I asked.

"You bled a lot."  Key answered.  "I pulled out the teeth, and you bleed some more.  I patched you up, and you bled through that.  Now you're awake again."

"Where did my pants go?"

"Ruined.  I got you some new ones."  Key said, pointing to the foot of the bed.

"Thanks."

"No problem.  You think you can start moving again soon?"

"I don't know.  My leg really hurts."

"I ask because there's someone else saying they're from a different place.  Saying stuff about things called cars and planes and something called a Razor scooter."  Key made air quotes around the items as he listed them.

I sat bolt upright in bed.

"Ah!  That got your attention."  He said.

"Does that person smell like corn chips?"  I asked.

"Corn chips?"  Asked Key.

"Never mind."  I said.  "Where are they?"

"Down below.  The beasts have taken a liking to him."  Key said as he began to eat.

I stared at him until he stopped eating his stew.

"Things that are half beast and half person.  Stuff like that."

"Taken a liking to him?"  I asked.

"Taken enough of a liking that they're making sacrifices."  He answered.