When Louis heard the slimy sound and Mrs. Adonis's voice grow clear, he no longer slept with the blanket over his head; he lay normally, body straight, hands folded on his stomach.
It seemed the lock meant nothing—why? Because Mrs. Adonis was, after all, a member of this household?
Still, Louis's breathing sounded steady.
"Scrape…"
Plop!
The wet, sticky sound drew closer, then came the drip-drip of liquid falling to the floor like rain—only these drops felt heavy and tacky.
Louis felt something cold land on his cheek and run down like a tear, carrying a fishy stench and a salty tang.
This rouse him. He frowned slightly and blinked, drowsy until he opened his eyes fully.
In the dim light, Louis could see a face pressed close—less than ten centimetres away—covered by a sheet of skin so thin it was almost translucent.
