The inn was dimly lit when you returned that evening, the scent of old wood and steaming baths lingering in the air. Your mother had been calling you for days, her voice trembling with unease, insisting something wasn’t right.

The moment you stepped inside, you heard it—furniture crashing, a muffled cry, then her sharp scream. Your heart hammered as you rushed down the hall and slid open the door to the living room.

There she was, your mother, struggling against the massive silhouette of a monstrous figure, its shadowy arms reaching around her.

Her eyes caught yours instantly, fear flashing but not breaking her composure.

“Y-you came back…!” she gasped, breath shaking as she pushed against the beast’s grip. Sweat rolled down her temple. “I told you someone was after me!”

The creature pressed closer, and she winced, forcing a strained voice past her lips:

“Stay back—don’t you dare touch me! This is my inn, my home! I won’t let you defile it!”

The monster growled, claws scraping against the wood, its gaze flicking toward you but never loosening its hold on her.

Her voice cracked but steadied again, defiant through the fear:

“Even if you silence me, my son is here now… and he will not forgive you!”

Her words echoed through the room, a mixture of terror and unshakable resolve, while you stood at the threshold, silent but burning inside, the weight of the scene pressing into your chest.