a nest of horns

For this prompt: " I stumbled upon them, her collection of horns. She assured me they had never belonged to animals. Not really."

What did she mean? Not really. It was suspicious and I was on guard. Looking at them, at the horns, it made me...uneasy. It felt like something was crawling under my skin, and I could almost see the life in them, almost see the writhing animals, almost hear the screams—

“There’s no need to be on guard. Honestly.” She brushed me off with a laugh. “I told you.”

What has she told me? She hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t reassuring. Nothing about this situation was, even—the door was slammed shut and I couldn’t see her hoard of mountains, and mountains, of horns anymore. It didn’t ease the feeling away. That uneasy, creeping feeling kept teething at me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the large door, and the even larger room, filled to the brim with horns. Bones.

I shuddered.

Not really. Did I even want to know? I decided that I didn’t. My mind couldn’t stop thinking about it, though, couldn’t stop with the flooding of repeating images of dark long corridors, hollow rooms, bones, completely lifeless, and that ice-sharp sensation of voices. Soundless Screams that felt like hands on me. The animals. 

I could hardly sleep. I could hardly eat anymore. I felt like I was being consumed by something.

I had to go back. I had to face the door again. That place. Those mountains of bones of horns. 

Reina was there waiting for me, with expectant eyes that chilled me. “I’m surprised,” She said. “I thought you were going to stop being my friend.”

That...made me pause. I didn’t expect her to say that. Friends? That was the last thing on my mind. I felt a touch of regret. She was really happy about the sleepover thing, but then I had to—I had to—

“Reina.” I gasped, unable to keep in anymore. I clutched my arms, but my mind was buzzing, almost screeching with how close I am to the place. “I can’t—I can’t—I need—”

Her expression turned sympathetic. “Daddy said that humans weren't supposed to see this room. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

I was too exhausted to comprehend that whole sentence. I was just. So tired. I wanted to let this go to rest. “Please.” I sobbed, and her shockingly cold hand on my shoulder was a comfort I didn’t expect. It eased some of this storm inside of me. 

“Sorry.” She said, again. “I just wanted a friend. I didn’t expect—”

“Please.” I repeated with urgency. I didn't think I could hold it, and she muttered, okay, okay, and with, I think a sad look, opened the door and locked me in with the mountains of horns.

It didn’t feel scary anymore. It didn’t feel uneasy. It didn’t feel like anything. 

It felt safe.

It felt like home.

It felt like a warm blanket.

.