p> "Yeah that."

"Wouldn't they need some better security, I see no gates or anything."

"Why? No one ever comes here." Lukas waves his arms around, highlighting the desolated area.

Truly an industrial complex corner. A place I had never known about let alone set foot in. It looks like I'll need to do a lot more exploring locally. How many gaps and things did the previous Rosalia miss in her villainous princess garden? My god, I'm really no better than Lilyanne.

We circle about the iron bar windows, seeing no one through the peeks and cracks. It feels as empty as the alley.

"I smell food but I can't see or hear anyone! But it smells like Amar in there! But I don't see him, is that just the food?" wonders Lukas.

"Did they leave? Did Vincent actually follow through...."

I want to trust Vincent, not just because he's my investment and researcher but he's not all so bad. He's not like Tamera or anything but it's different, people are all different. I don't know. The line between employer and employee needs to be clearer but that's a little hard to define when I'm this small and adorable.

Lukas jumps around a bit, looking both agitated and excited.

"I don't know! But I never went in before, someone always stopped me. Let's go!"

Oh yes, sure let's walk right into the, not at all creepy, research lab. The horror movies didn't warn about this at all.

"Greaaaaat idea Lukas." I can feel my eyes rolling. "But how oh how will we ever get in, it's not like we can just walk right up to the probably locked front door and....oh."

"Oh what Rosa? What is it? Did you figure out a way in!? WHoopee I knew you could figure it out!"

"...Sssshhh, watch this."

It's a little tricky I admit, I am no super spy. However, I know enough to roundabout looking for a back door, which is usually much easier to break into than the front. It's just common sense.

That and from working years in a modern bar, I would know.

The doorway is narrow and creaky, looking weak and easily breakable compared to the front.

I definitely feel something, like walking into a barely there spider web. Unlike with Gable's place, I can see something, an almost transparent web. It feels like I could so easily tear a hole through it, just enough for me and Lukas to fit through.

But I have a better idea.

It's a little silly, a little childish, but I want to take the whole thing apart. Starting from the bottom, I rip and pull the whole thing apart. It really is like cleaning cobwebs. Easy to tug and utterly crumple into nothing.

"What am I watching?"

"Ssshhhh."

To Lukas or anyone else, it must look like I'm playing with air, but there's something magical here and I don't want to set off any traps or alarms.

The door gives way easily, without me doing anything but give a gentle push. Now that gets my little companion to quiet down immediately, though his jaw does hang open. Without speaking a word I give a triumphant little huff, the passage clear.

Let's go.

Contrary to the outside, it's a lot messier in here. The interior darker wood beams and hanging herbs and specimens all around. Rather than being cool and witchy looking like Gable's place it just feels like a whirlwind of a mess. The only thing I can say is that there are a lot more jars and pots with some murky hard to decipher inscriptions.

I could probably stay a day in this room and not be able to get through all the little things that litter it, so let's not waste time.

Besides, the smell is far more enticing and it's getting closer.

Unlike before, Lukas has adopted a very careful manner, stepping ahead of me again. Not sensing anymore web-like magic-related locks or barriers I graciously allow it. We take every step with caution, regarding our surroundings for anything that may be dangerous. It really is silent and empty in here, no signs of anyone at all.

It only takes us one room, before we find the source of the smell.

The counters are full and cramped with even more items, mainly dark clay pots and the occasional smokey yellow glass bottle.

A very tall stool is pushed aside as if whoever was sitting there had to hop down.

The bulky wooden table where the stool rests against stands out, completely clear of anything but a small lead looking pot and a single half-full wooden plate and spoon.

It looks partially eaten, this ominous-looking brown sludge over dry rice. It looks gross, I know, but it smells like heaven.

It smells like curry.

Ah ha! I knew it!

"He was holding out on us. Again!" I growl.

Curses Amar! That brat is always managing to hide sweets and snacks! I'm not surprised at all that he's been playing with this substance of the gods away from our maybe greedy eyes.

We just like delicious things okay?

More than that I'm surprised that the concept of the dish 'curry' exists here in this world. Well, that shows ignorant little ol me. I really can't rely too much on my previous self's biased memories.

I absolutely love curry rice! The modern soul in me is crying from the lack of a lot of beloved dishes but especially curry rice. It's many a child's favorite dish where I'm from. It's made even worse now that I am a child again.

"What?! Again?! It smells so good," drools Lukas.

"Amar was definitely here, the chair is that tall and every other kid went home. And these spices?! It had to be him."

"Smells like him yep. Imma eat it all."

"No wait, save me some!"

It's a little pathetic but hey we're kids. Also, Amar needs a little bit of punishment. Some more revenge. I swear that kid gets away with too much.

Instead of fighting with bacon boy over the first bites, I climb on top of the table to slide the heavy pot of still warm curry right into my baggie. No mess by the powers of unexplainable magic.

"It's really good! I never had anything like it! Ever!" Lukas exclaims, vibrating in his seat on the stool.

Well, of course, you haven't child, even I the young miss of the Ventrellas never got to enjoy anything like curry in all 17 years of my life. What a sad existence.

This isn't my beloved curry rice. The rice is too long and dry, the curry itself smells foreign and consists of many unrecognizable ingredients. I would say it resembles more of the classic Indian curry house offerings than my own standards. This isn't my box rouz or a cute cafe, or even a comforting homemade pot of my favorite curry. There's also no egg on top.

Yet it is still curry rice! Hallelujah!

I didn't know how long it would take for me to gather enough ingredients and be able to experiment making my beloved curry but here it is! So good it smells so good~

The first bite from the stolen spoon makes me feel like I've been shot point-blank with overwhelming deliciousness. A spiced sucker punch right where it hurts! The tender meat, the melting of flavors over the starchy veggies and how well the rice absorbs it all is absolutely indescribable. Hallelujah, this is the taste of curry!

Of course, my tastebuds are pretty young and sensitive because there's an unfortunate bitter aftertaste. I also note the metallic taste that may be due to the pot, bleck. There's a lot to improve here but really not bad at all.

It's the second bite where I get hit for real.

"SPIT IT OUT!!!"

Hands around my throat, holding me down as the plate flings and splatter across the room to the wall. Before I can register a thing, or even the childish fingers, still bigger than my own, stuffed in my mouth, my gag reflex works immediately. A strong press into my little chest further forcing me to wretch up more than just the curry.

It hurts so much I see stars.

Lukas can do nothing against the sudden attacker, not just because it's Amar but because he too is getting the same treatment. Amar has him pulled and knocked over on the table, forcing him to vomit in every brute way possible.

"Spit it out! You have to spit it out!"

The pain has me heaving and the disgusting scent of bile and the intermingled contents of my stomach fills the cramped room. When I can do little more than dry heave, when I can begin to regain a bit of my breath, I'm knocked and threatened with a hand to my little throat again.

Amar looks so hurried, so desperate. His eyes such a shock of deadly green that it brings me back to that day nearly a year ago. Has it really been that long, that short? I don't know.

I don't fight it as he pours some yellow-tinted water down into my mouth.

"Drink it! Drink and spit it all out."

Lukas can barely get out the start of a question before he's attacked again, more sickness being wrecked out of his small frame before the water drowns him.

"Again, drink it again. Again! You have to. Please please please just drink it and get it out! Again!"

The sickness spills again and it's a wet putrid mess. It all happens so fast that I'm still in shock. I can't even comprehend anything more than that Amar is crying.

This is the first time I've seen him with this many expressions on his face, let alone crying. Truly sobbing with fat wet globs of tears. It makes me suddenly realize how little emotions he shows overall.

He looks as hysterical as a child that small can look, intense fear and panic over a heartwrenching breakdown. He's a mess. Lukas and I are the ones getting punched and gutted with our own vomit but he's the one who looks to be in the most horrible pain.

I want to breathe, after all this vomiting I want to catch my breath but I can't. I can't even dry heave. It's as if all of a sudden I've become paralyzed, numb.

"No no no, no" he sobs, wet hands pressing on my chest. I can see it but I can't feel it, as he tries to get me to breathe again.

I can't feel anything. I can't move. Panic doesn't even have time to rise up in me, for I have become frozen to it all.

The taste of bitter bile and hints of blood still persists through my mouth. It makes me want to gag but I can't, I honestly can't.

A short distance away from me I see Lukas, still sick and regurgitating. I see it in perfect stillness as he shakily downs the water, repeating the process again as Amar instructed. But his frame shakes as if he has a bad chill, and there's frothing at his mouth increasing as he weakens. It couldn't have been more than a minute but the seconds stretch on so long. Soon it's red that he spits up. It looks like blood.

Blood, I can taste more blood in my mouth, spilling up from me.

"Spit it out, that's it Rosa. Just spit it out. Spit it out and breathe!"

I feel like a rag doll, with limbs of heavy grains of sand. A shaky hug or a Heimlich maneuver, then more blood is squeezed out from me. It's disgusting. I must be disgusting but Amar only breathes when I finally do. It's a delirious relief as I spit bright blood all over him and the boy painfully smiles with his eyes.

It's the most sincere smile I've ever seen from him.

The relief is short-lived as the drowning torture repeats itself and he's back on Lukas, forcing the other boy's guts to upheave.

I still can't move. Lukas can't stop vomiting. Amar can't stop crying even as his hands, his entire body frantically moves to save us.

Has he always been so skinny? I don't notice it when it's just us but his arms look like mere sticks pressing on Lukas, and his frame is so small.

It hurts.

Not just where I was punched and beat in the gut, nor in my acid burning airways. It hurts so much, like a sickness spreading. Everything burns with increasing intensity and I can't help but feel as if every labored breath sends an angry swarm of fire ants through me.

All I can register is fear, pain and the metallic taste of blood.

"Drink it. Please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You can't...you have to drink it. You have to. " a broken whimper calls to me.

The blood in my mouth is no longer just mine, for it's much warmer and oddly sweet. When did Amar get back to me? Why is his wrist cut and bleeding? Both of them?...Ah one for me and one for Lukas. How dramatic.

More than that, why does he look to be in so much more pain? We're the ones the fucked up and got poisoned or something right? Why does it look like this bleeding boy is the one who's actually dying?

It really hurts.

I can feel myself fading, even as warm flesh pressed against my mouth and fresh blood runs down my throat. It should be disgusting but it can't be helped, I can't even move a finger. It takes everything I can will from myself to swallow it down.

My senses go one by one but before they go my mind registers Vincent's frantic screaming and the solid steps of an adult man calmly sliding into the room. He really does wear a hood, so much I can't make out a single feature aside from cold thin lips.

They move and sound comes out.

"Well now. I suppose you've finally learned your lesson about finishing your food. Am I right boy?"

The small grip on me tightens and sleep wins.

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