Chapter 9
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To say that the images and scenes that Ethan was currently experiencing were rather all over the place would be an understatement. The poor boy was bouncing around between horrific suffocation nightmares, dreams of weightless flight through the clouds, and now calmness in the form of a calm, soft, and gentle warmth. A sigh escaped his relaxed lips and he turned on his side to nuzzle against the comfortable object that relaxed him so. He murmured something in his sleep, subconsciously responding to the delicate fingers that were alternating between lightly stroking the hair behind his ear and tracing random patterns atop his shirt covered back.

The receptionist had to stifle a giggle at the adorable look upon his face in addition to the words he thought she just heard. She could have sworn he said something about moles not like lima beans.

"Can't fault the moles there," she responded in a soft whisper before tilting her head to the side. He was certainly taking his time waking up.

To help speed up the situation she leaned forward and began to playfully blow warm air against his exposed earlobe and cheek. She continued while the boy gradually began to stir, his hand trying to shoo away the pesky little interloper upon his rest. It wasn't until his lids began to crack open and he grunted in acceptance that he was about to get him.

His vision was unfocused and he stretched in such a way that he miraculously didn't hit a single part of his body that he shouldn't have. As he woke up more and more he started to take stock of his situation. He was resting on something soft and his head was on something even more comfortable. It wasn't soft really, but a firmness that also had a bit of spring. It cradled his head and supported his neck in a way that not only adjusted his spine but also brought him a great sense of comfort. A vague and blurry memory tried to sneak into his thoughts before being swept away.

Opening his eyes he now stared at well kept clothes in front of his face and below his cheek.

"Huh?" Rang out in his mind.

Slowly sliding his eye to the side to look up at the owner of said clothes he noticed the somewhat young face smiling down at him, a pair of mounds partly obscuring her chin and neck. Confusion settled in as he tried to comprehend the situation.

"Oh yea... she attacked me... somehow." Was said to himself as he tried to remember how she attacked him.

"Wait.... if she is up there... and I'm like this... then that means.." The mental calculations had begun and Ethan was quickly coming to his destination.

"Stranger danger! Stranger danger! I'm in someone's lap! Danger Ethan Kipley, Danger!" In his head a voice of an unknown adult started out with the two warnings, followed by his own voice announcing the obvious, followed by a voice he could only describe as metallic, if he ever tried. Another word would be robotic, though he wouldn't know how to explain such a thing.

His muscles all reacted at once and time slowed as he suddenly moved to sit up. Less than half a second had passed since he began to move, but now from above his head he saw outstretched fingers come into view. They were faster than him and the fingers instantly made way to a palm and then part of a wrist. Before he could register what was happening the hand grabbed him by the face from behind, the palm against his forehead and the fingers spread out like a spider across his cheeks, nose and mouth. He was only partially done sitting up when he was suddenly yanked back down into the lap.

"Wao-Ga-mph!"

Three sounds, merged into one, and hardly still discernible, slipped past her fingers in a muffled tone as he realized what was happening, was grabbed by the face while trying to get away, and then impacted back against the lap that he had been resting upon.

"Now, now, my dear, no need to run off so quickly. I'm not going to hurt you." Despite her gentle words Ethan looked up at her in confusion.

"But... Ma'am... You attac..." His words gradually trailed off upon seeing the change in her facial expression. Was she mad? Was that a muscle or blood vessel that seemingly popped up on her forehead?

"Ma'am? MA'AM? MA'AM?!" She repeated the word three times, each time she grew louder and more upset.

Before he could say anything she continued.

"Do I look like a Ma'am?" She grabbed her face and began to knead her skin before moving her fingers to her hair, neck and then chin. Reaching down she grabbed the terrified boy by his shoulders and shook him a couple of times.

"Answer me! Do I look like a Ma'am? Do I look old?"

She had stopped shaking him, only to hold him firmly in her grasp and stare daringly into his eyes.

"Ummm..... You look older than me... I call all older women Ma'am..."

Wrong answer poor poor boy. Wrong answer. Ethan was not only young but was also naive and innocent. He had yet to develop what one would call a sense of self preservation when it came to the opposite sex and their questions. His lack of knowledge wouldn't save him though. No sooner had he finished responding when those outside of the room suddenly heard the pitiful scream hit crescendo and then die off.

While some of the older patrons and adventurers looked to each other with confused expressions some of the younger ones in the building winced and rubbed the back of one of their arms. It would seem a painful memory was elicited by the scream they just heard. One even went pale, began to whimper and then promptly fell out of his chair to huddle on the floor. This started a chain reaction as some present thought they were under attack, while others moved to assist the one who fainted with healing magic. The cold dead gaze that looked back at them sent a chill down their spines. The receptionist behind the counter frowned and shook her head before making her way to the swinging half door at the end of the counter. Leaning over she tilted her head some trying to hear in detail what was happening behind that locked door.

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