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strings0fcontrol · 1 year

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Hannigram – Post-Fall (15)

Setting aside the string of heart-pounding incidents and near-death experiences, Will felt remarkably intact as he awoke from the abyss, discovering himself on a solitary bed.

The absence of the creature sent shivers down his spine, leaving an unsettling void in the room. He knew it would return, that was inevitable. It bore the demeanor of a creature unwilling to abandon a task half-done. However, in its place, the cat lay beside him, nestled peacefully, casting a drowsy, watchful gaze upon him. As Will started to sit up, the cat stretched luxuriously, and its eyes casually grazed over his freshly bandaged hand.

In an instant, Graham's gaze shot upwards, the memory of the mirror shattering returning in a rush. He had swung at the monstrous apparition but struck a solid wall concealed beneath the fractured mirror, garnering a collection of glass shards in the process. The pain was barely a bother. Hannibal. Will could have sworn he still felt the lingering touch of his lips against his own. He cast his gaze about, desperately scouring his surroundings for any trace of Dr. Lecter, but all that met his searching eyes was an all-encompassing darkness. Ensnared within the confines of that bizarre fortress, his initial entry had been eerily uncomplicated. Yet, the elusive path to exit eluded him entirely. His sense of orientation was lost, and time itself seemed to dance to a discordant tune, with the familiar cadence of night and day utterly erased. Clocks were conspicuously absent, leaving him adrift in a temporal void. The passage of time remained an enigma, an unsolvable puzzle with no measure or reference.

Alright.

Following the rules of his analytical autistic mind, when denial ceased to be an option, acceptance became the inevitable path.

Will felt an inexplicable surge of motivation, propelling him forward into the next looming confrontation. Normally inclined toward avoidance by nature, he now found himself driven by an uncharacteristic curiosity, an urge to uncover the mysteries that enshrouded this eerie ordeal. Heaving himself off the bed, he took a few deliberate strides forward.

This surreal environment, as genuine as it seemed, could no longer be the tangible reality he once knew before that fateful plunge off the cliff with Hannibal. While it possessed an unsettling realness, and the looming threat of genuine mortality hung in the air, it was not his reality. He had to be trapped deep within his own consciousness. If the island and the house represented the surface level of his psyche, and he needed to dive into the depths to reach the core, then what precisely was this enigmatic liminal space?

His eyes darted, surveying his perplexing surroundings.

His own subconscious?

He had stepped into the fortress of his mind.

And the looming question remained: What, precisely, was the nature of the malevolent entity? Evidently, it was a facet of himself, a twisted reflection. Despite the undeniable similarities, he had never laid eyes on it before. It possessed a cat-like grace and an unsettling reservoir of power. The sudden shift in the environment had spared him. Had it not been ensnared behind the shattered mirror, he had no doubt that even the slightest contact with its icy skin would have been akin to a corrosive liquid nitrogen, devouring its way through him.

The lingering apprehension remained—it had to be nearby. Yet, despite his meticulous scanning, no trace of its presence was revealed. His lips parted, and he attempted speech.

"H—," he began, but as sound emerged, his voice faltered into an uncertain silence. "Hello?" Will questioned slowly, almost reluctantly. His voice felt raspy and fractured, but it was a voice nonetheless.

What should he call it? Monster seemed a bit too harsh.

He pondered on possible names. Cat person? Big-Ears? Golden-Eyes? Walking Frostbite?

His brows furrowed.

It bore a semblance to a sphinx cat, bereft of fur, if he were to draw a comparison.

Egyptian.

As if a connection clicked, his lips moved instinctively.

"Miu."

The word flowed from his tongue, the ancient Egyptian term for a cat: 'he or she who mews.' While he pondered, a nagging uncertainty lingered: Was it truly wise to christen a monstrous entity with a 'meow' in a tongue foreign to his own?

A duo of golden eyes, like gleaming coins amidst the darkness, materialized at knee level, their eerie ascent unceasing until they hovered nearly half a meter above Will. Graham's throat constricted instantaneously, gripped by an instinctual terror.

Realization washed over him—it had been here all along. His knees trembled, and his entire body longed to sprint for safety, a visceral reaction triggered by the sheer sight of this monstrous entity. Every follicle on the nape of his neck seemed determined to emancipate itself from his skin, yearning for refuge in the safety of escape. A voice, faint but insistent, urged him to flee, while his limbs burned with an incandescent urge to sprint, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a wildfire. The painful awareness of his body, priming itself for either confrontation or flight, was palpable.

Yet, an opposing force, as if his very soul was attempting to pull him in the opposite direction, ensnared his will, a relentless tug-of-war that demanded a formidable struggle to resist. The entity pressed forward, its very presence resonating through the trembling floor beneath Will's feet. Every footfall transmitted its ominous weight, sending ripples through the ground beneath, akin to miniature earthquakes. Shadows gave way, enveloping its obsidian form as the light around it intensified. Though it had not assumed an overtly hostile stance, an undercurrent of menace lingered in the air. No longer did it teleport or engage in the eerie act of unfolding and collapsing; its presence had solidified within the frame. Paradoxically, this newfound tangibility only heightened its terror, as if the solidity of its existence made it all the more malevolent. Its aura bore down upon him with an oppressive weight, as though it were greedily siphoning the very air from the room, leaving each breath he drew in feeble and strained. As Will's gaze honed in on additional details, he discerned the big chain veiling an amulet, presumably the coveted Horus Eye, while more chains adorned its wrists. Each feline countenance exuded a regal air, but this particular specimen radiated a divine aura.

Exercising caution, Will slowly lifted his hands and retreated with deliberate, measured steps. A conscious effort to avoid triggering its predatory instincts. As the weight of his foot bore down, a disconcerting sensation engulfed him, as though he trod upon ground that dissolved beneath his very weight. An overwhelming dread coursed through him, a cry to succumb to unconsciousness and escape the paralyzing fear that gripped his every fiber. Yet now, he possessed an unexpected weapon, a formidable tool to wield against an open intelligence, perhaps the mightiest weapon within his entire arsenal: his voice. Words. Communication. "I want to talk, Miu. Can we do that?" His voice remained hushed, a tremor of anxiety akin to that of a timid child, yet it clung to him, steadfast in its bravery, refusing to desert him.

The entity came to a sudden stop, its radiant, gilded orbs narrowing ever so imperceptibly. That ultimate step, though devoid of sound, reverberated within him like a thunderous declaration. A subtle cant of its head communicated to Will that he possessed but a fleeting moment to sway its disposition. His eyelids trembled, his very soul waging a battle to remain anchored within his body. A fleeting surge of relief coursed through him, nearly toppling his senses. It understood him. This meant he had a slender opportunity for negotiation. An astonishingly unconventional gambit, yet one brimming with intrigue. Engaging in a precarious negotiation with a deadly monster, the words he would choose next would seal his fate. Much like when an officer confronted a potential bomber, the sole strategy lay in persuading them to abandon the path of detonation. In those critical moments, the first ten words held the power to shape the outcome. Empathy, the bridge to understanding, was the chosen path — a means to connect with one's adversary, to resonate with their suffering. Empathy forged a bond, and that bond wielded influence. Empathy wielded as a conscious tool could be a potent weapon in the realm of offense. And now, the moment had arrived to employ it, to allow that connection to unfurl and reach its full potential, to wrench the pendulum that had been swinging passively and transform it into a spear for a decisive strike. In the face of this formidable predator, he grappled with the uncertainty of how to forge a connection. Yet, as he locked eyes with it, penetrating the veneer of calculated lethality, he began to discern something. Beyond the calculating gaze of a predator, there lay an unexpected depth, a raw intensity akin to the fiery determination of an aggrieved housewife. It was the gaze of a woman who had known pain and channeled that anguish into an unrelenting fury. It was a gaze he had once seen in his mother's eyes—a complex mixture of emotions, a veritable cocktail of disappointment, sadness, and frustration, all intertwined with an undercurrent of helplessness. These feelings were veiled by a seething, simmering fury, much like an untreated wound left to fester, burn, and ooze with pus. When a woman reached the point of losing her composure, it usually meant she had endured numerous hurts, with all that external observers witnessed being her unbridled wrath. Wrath, in its essence, served as our protective armor, a final line of defense. Frequently, heeded too late, it came to our rescue when the weight of accumulating pressures finally threatened to consume us.

Men, in their anger, often exhibited a different hue. But this, this was the singular fury of a woman, ablaze with its full, unyielding intensity—an inferno born of maternal instinct. This fury transcended banality, its complexity woven from the threads of deeply personal grievances, its edges sharp with spite. The wrath of an enraged woman, he knew all too well, ranked among the most chilling spectacles to witness, which explained the primal sense of terror that gripped him. In the depths of one's inner child, few terrors surpassed the dread of an angered mother – a fear deeply personal and uniquely unsettling. Utterly terrifying to behold, undeniably lethal in its potential, yet strangely beautiful in its own right, for it was a fury born from the deepest wellspring of love. Whether that love is directed toward the child or oneself.

Isn't it ironic that the most perilous fury often finds its genesis in love?

He recognized that expression, and in that moment of insight, he grasped the slender thread that might just save his life.

"I'm sorry for hurting you," Will spoke, his words flowing instinctively. Even to himself, what he said came as a surprise, but just there, it all clicked into place. Miu, it seemed, had quietly taken residence within his soul for a considerable span, embodying the shadowed recesses he had struggled to repress and purge from his being.

It was attentive. He had effectively secured another ten words to wield. "I see you now. And … I want to fix it," Will persisted, advancing with a wary tread toward Miu. The entity held its ground, neither retreating nor progressing, its unblinking eyes locked onto Graham. Its searing gaze, akin to relentless yet probing suns, tracked his every move. "I want to understand you," Will added, his trembling hands extending towards the feline's neck. The darkness crept at the corners of his vision, as if his own mind stood ready to sever the lifeline, recognizing the perilousness of his impending, potentially fatal blunder. The collar was positioned too high to reach without its cooperation. Though the towering entity seemed to pause briefly, it elegantly bent its lofty form into a sinuous arc, placing the fractured chain within Will's grasp. All the while, its unwavering and intense gaze remained fixed upon him. In this close proximity, he couldn't help but notice the enormity of its eyes, akin to peering into newly formed pools of molten magma. He could almost swear he sensed a subtle heat radiating from their depths. There was no mistaking its readiness to strike with lethal precision at the merest hint of a misstep from Will.

Graham found himself at a loss on how to remove the chain. He lacked the key, and it proved far too robust to break with his bare hands. While Miu had managed to break free from the chain earlier, the collar was doubly thick, and it was clear that it had frozen onto the feline's neck. Frozen. Intriguingly, the creature's frigid aura had retreated. It remained cold and emitted a chill, yet it was no longer an aggressive, painful force when Will approached it.

The collar, where it melded with the creature's skin, emitted an eerie glacial glow as if it were more than just a physical restraint; it seemed to radiate the same icy aura that surrounded it. Perhaps, Will pondered, it served to curtail the creature's abilities, despite the fact that it had managed to break free from the chain. Frozen. Much like its movements, constrained to only a few frames before it had to resort to teleportation. Will couldn't shake the thought that perhaps the pervasive chill was affecting it as well, restricting its mobility. It left him pondering what other limitations it might face. If the cold was truly gnawing at the creature's very being, Will could only imagine the excruciating pain it must have endured. And yet, it maintained such composure. No wonder it was filled with anger.

"I want to … set you free, but I don't know how," Graham's voice lowered, his realization of his inability to open the collar weighing upon him. The golden eyes loudly shifted toward the smaller cat perched on the bed, which was gazing at them with an air of curiosity. Then, they clearly descended upon the key dangling from its neck. Will followed Miu's gaze, and in response, it turned in the opposite direction. Lights began to flicker to life, revealing the path through the darkness, guiding him toward the solution. Under the unyielding gaze now fixed upon him, Will nodded slowly. "I believe I'm starting to understand?" he said, his voice steady as he attempted to regain control over his trembling body and ease the tension in his jaw. "Please, have patience with me. I'm–I’m incredibly confused, but I'm making an effort."

The intensity of the gaze remained fixed on him as Will shifted his focus toward the smaller cat. It appeared to grasp the situation and made a swift decision, darting away along the newly illuminated path. "No, no, no, wait, I won't harm you. I just want the—" Will called after it, but it vanished from sight. "...key," he added with a resigned sigh.

"Nothing is ever … easy, is it?" Graham posed the question to Miu. Though the creature's expression remained unchanged, he couldn't shake the feeling that the energy around it had shifted into what felt like a reproachful eye roll. "I'll find a way," Will reassured, hands raised defensively, his confidence stronger than he had initially intended. He reluctantly tore his gaze away and began to follow the illuminated path, with Miu closely trailing behind him. It was only at that moment that he truly grasped the creature's immense size. Even in its hunched posture, it loomed large enough to cast a shadow over him, despite moving on all fours, reminiscent of a gorilla. It appeared to be crouching, or maybe it was adjusting its steps to match his own as if it had the capacity to cover ground much more swiftly. In this deliberate act, it was evident that it was consciously restraining its movements, granting Will the space to walk at a more comfortable pace. Its hind legs, remarkably elongated, bore a semblance of a humanoid trait rather than a feline one. In contrast, its arms exceeded the proportions of typical human anatomy, further accentuating its uncanny physiology. Miu exhibited remarkable intelligence, undoubtedly comprehending every word Will spoke. However, it appeared either mute or disinclined to speak. Nevertheless, its body language, those expressive eyes, and the subtle shifts in muscle tension, posture, and demeanor conveyed a silent eloquence that made it feel as though Will could read its thoughts. It didn't rely on words to communicate; every signal it emitted was calculated and purposeful. It was a form of communication that utterly fascinated him, reminiscent of Hannibal, but magnified to an even greater degree. "I can only speculate that you represent my darker impulses," Will looked up, his gaze locking onto the piercing stare above him. "No offense. I'm just trying to understand," he said gently, his voice carrying a hint of trepidation. His gaze lingered on Miu, searching for the right word to describe the inexplicable, "You're strangely," he hesitated, "... mesmerizing." Graham almost regretted uttering that comment, but he couldn't help himself. He studied the creature's reaction, a subtle retraction in its expression—perhaps a flicker of surprise or a hint of confusion in its inscrutable eyes.

"It's probably odd to compliment the part of myself that wants to … murder everything," he continued, a touch of self-deprecation in his tone, "but... yeah, you are strangely beautiful, and I have no idea why I'm saying that. It just came to mind, … along with everything else that's … happening here. I don't have explanations for any of it," he gestured vaguely to the surreal surroundings, shrugging helplessly. "Or, really, anything that's unfolding in this place. But you're the first thing that feels... safe."

Once more, he fell silent, his gaze locking onto the creature's inquisitive, nearly smug countenance. "I know it's utterly insane to say this to something that was moments away from ending my life, but maybe that's why it feels so... familiar , even natural to me." Another pause. "I'm... I'm sorry if I'm rambling. You seem like a good listener," he admitted, his voice trailing off with a nervous chuckle. Realizing the audacity of his words, he quickly stifled the humor. "Sorry, I... I'm just really nervous. Talking helps me … process." Miu seemed to find amusement in Will's efforts to salvage the situation, and for a fleeting moment, Graham glimpsed a reflection of his own nature in that reaction. "You...," he hesitated, gauging the wisdom of his next words, "possess sadistic inclinations. You derive pleasure from witnessing the suffering of others." He carefully observed the creature above, noting how its gaze seemed to sharpen, cutting into him with an inquisitive hostility rather than an immediate threat. "But it's a specific brand of sadism, isn't it? You're curious, and you only revel in the torment of those who, in your eyes, deserve it. Am I correct?" He posed the question directly to Miu and received a subtle tilting of its head in response. Not outright denying, yet not fully acknowledging either. In essence, it amounted to a 'maybe.'

"I can relate," Will continued, his words measured. "I assume that's why you take on the form of a cat, not a dog. You enjoy toying with your prey." He noticed a flicker of offense in Miu's eyes and hastened to clarify, "I'm–I’m not suggesting dogs are better than cats or vice versa. They're simply … different. Cats are solitary hunters, more methodical and strategic." As he spoke, he found himself contemplating his own penchant for murder, recognizing that it aligned more with the feline disposition than the canine. "True, dogs usually kill for survival, for sustenance, out of necessity. But cats... they kill for sport, for the sheer thrill of the hunt."

At its core, he embodied the essence of a cat, not a dog, when it came to his mannerisms. They walked for quite a distance, and apart from the illuminated path on the floor, Will couldn't discern anything in their surroundings. It was a vast expanse of emptiness. Oddly enough, Miu's presence had a calming effect on him, which was quite perplexing given that it should have instilled fear. This paradoxical reaction only fueled his curiosity. Now that the creature had ceased its attacks, or at least postponed their confrontation, the aura of calm it exuded was otherworldly. It was a self-assuredness, a precision in its rhythmic strides, that could cause even a deity to question their standing in its presence. It felt like a primordial principle, a force as mighty as time itself, something that even surpassed the deities. Will couldn't precisely define what Miu was, but it embodied a concept older than the gods themselves. It exuded an aura of utter primality, akin to a living law of nature. Gazing upon it was a humbling experience, and it became even more humbling to realize that it was not only aware of his presence but also actively listening and cooperating. Undoubtedly, it did so by choice, driven by its own self-interest. Will couldn't forget that it still possessed the power to liquefy him with a mere flick of its finger. Referring to it as a god would likely be an understatement, even an insult. It wielded an authority far beyond the capacity of words to fully capture. "I wonder how long you've been here," Will mused, abruptly halting his stride and turning to cast a questioning glance at Miu. The wisdom of countless years, perhaps even millennia, shimmered in its vibrant eyes. It undeniably bore the weight of great antiquity.

The presence of the Horus Eye, which he had glimpsed earlier, lingered in his thoughts. Could it be a clue? The Egyptian undertones puzzled him. While he found mythology of all kinds intriguing, he had never delved deeply into Egyptian lore. His interests were diverse, but Egyptian mythology had never been a particular focus. That's what made Miu's connection to it all the more fascinating, reminiscent of the Wendigo form Hannibal's shadow had taken in his psyche.

It undeniably held a connection to the Gods, particularly that Horus Eye, a symbol with multifaceted meanings. Some conjectured its mathematical significance, linking it to the sacred unit fractions that ancient Egyptians associated with the six components of the eye: The complete Eye of Horus represented the number one. The top part of the eye, which is shaped like an eyebrow, represented one-sixth (1/6). The darkened central part of the eye, resembling a pupil, represented one-sixty-fourth (1/64). The curving section below the pupil, often shaped like an ‘S,’ represented one-fourth (1/4). The teardrop-shaped section beneath the S-shaped swirl represented one-eighth (1/8). The straight line or inverted ‘T’ shape at the bottom of the eye represented one-sixteenth (1/16). The tail-like extension at the very bottom of the eye represented one-thirty-second (1/32). These fractions, all with powers of two in their denominators, served to represent portions of the hekat, the standard measure of grain capacity. A binary framework, founded on base two. These values function as exponents for the conversion of binary to decimal. Considering that 2^6 equals 64, it requires 6 bits for the representation of the fraction 1/64 in binary notation. Consequently, a total of 65 bits is needed to represent 2^64 in binary.

Numbers could be quite intriguing at times.

Furthermore, the Eye symbolized the reinstatement of order and the victory of good over evil. In certain interpretations, it is regarded as an emblem of spiritual insight and enlightenment, signifying the eye that gazes beyond the material realm and into the domain of the divine. A suggestion of introspection, perhaps? The inner eye, observing itself?

"Miu, I—," Will inhaled deeply, gathering the courage to confront the creature fully. His eyes sparkled with newfound determination, a change that seemed to please the large feline. "I need your help to … unravel all of this. I'll find your key. But I also need you to be my key to understanding." He could have sworn it was smiling, even though its visage remained devoid of expression. Yet, the eyes emitted a distinct energy, undeniably smug. Pride filled those golden orbs, but there was also a hint of contentment. Within that fierce and deadly countenance, there lingered a subtle softness, sending a ripple of energy through Will's stomach. Rising to its full height, Will estimated it was roughly three meters tall. In that moment, its appearance seemed more human than feline, with no visible tail. As it diverted its gaze from Will, its heavy ears pricked forward, adding another half meter to its imposing stature. It surveyed its surroundings with an intensity that made Graham suspect it perceived more than he ever could. Its eyes held an expression of recognition, as if it were identifying something specific and definable, rather than merely staring into an abyss of emptiness.

He felt inconceivably minuscule next to this towering juggernaut of lethality. It was meticulously crafted for annihilation, every aspect of its being a weapon honed to perfection. And yet, despite its alien, mythological essence, it exuded an uncanny humanity, a strange relatability that was both unsettling and oddly comforting. Amidst its icy frigidity, he found warmth and understanding. Although it seemed as sharp as the edge of a surgeon's scalpel, he couldn't shake the feeling that it possessed a hint of empathy. It was shrouded in darkness, brimming with deadly potential, but it was not inherently evil. In a moment of strange impulse, Will felt compelled to reach out and touch it while it remained engrossed in its surroundings. His hand barely reached its thigh, but as his warm palm made contact with the firm, icy muscle, he sensed the cold rapidly eating his skin. Miu recoiled from the touch like a coiled spring suddenly released. It was the first time he truly heard its reaction—a noise that didn't quite qualify as a hiss or a growl, akin to a potent, piercing surge of air vibrations that gripped him in near-paralyzing terror. It seemed as if the sound had the potential to be lethal, had it been honed with greater purpose. He could see the creases on its visage and the momentary parting of lips that revealed an array of razor-sharp teeth glistening in the harsh light. There was no audible hiss, yet he could sense it coursing through his entire body. Will's breath came in rapid, uncontrollable gasps as his trembling hand remained outstretched, his eyes wide with a mix of astonishment and trepidation. It had demonstrated the capacity to produce sound, and it felt as frigid as if it had been frozen solid. In a brief moment, he sensed its anguish, a fleeting sensation that had almost overwhelmed Graham when it had brushed against his senses. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he fought to maintain his composure, refusing to succumb to the torrent of information assaulting his mind. "You're in agony, immense agony," he stammered, struggling to regain his breath and see through the tears that clouded his vision. "Such excruciating pain. How do you even cope?" Miu's response was one of seething anger, its usually serene countenance now twisted into a mask of pure fury. Its upper lip quivered as it pulled back, baring its menacing row of teeth like an unspoken warning. While it refrained from launching an attack, there was no ambiguity in its message: should Will misstep, he'd be torn apart and reduced to mere confetti without a moment's hesitation.

Graham raised his hands and avoided making eye contact, his breath still quivering. "I– I did this to you, didn’t I? It was me, who put that chain on you, right?" Miu's patience was wearing thin, and its body language signaled an impending, impulsive attack. Its clawed palm extended, poised to strike, and it began to move toward Will. Despite the imminent danger, Will held his ground, refusing to flinch or close his eyes, even as he sensed the strike in his peripheral vision. "I'm... so sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling as he allowed his tears to flow freely. It was this moment of understanding and vulnerability that seemed to save him, halting the sharp claws just before they could slice through him. Will's eyes closed, and he could sense the presence of Miu's palm lingering nearby. "I … I thought I was doing what was right," Will spoke, his entire body quaking uncontrollably. His eyes slowly opened, revealing a torrent of tears. "But now, I'm not sure anymore. I don't know what's right anymore. I can't trust anything I thought I knew. I... I need your help. I need your guidance. I need your wisdom. And, I know... I don't deserve it. I don't deserve your kindness, your understanding, or your tolerance." He paused, still trembling but now lifting his gaze to meet Miu's golden stare, his eyes bloodshot and raw. "Because I didn't give that to you. I hated you. I wanted you gone. I denied your existence. I tried to suppress you, to kill you, to erase you. I starved you. I abused you. I froze you. I gave you nothing but ice and abandonment." His throat tightened, threatening to crush his voice, but his lips parted again, and he refused to succumb to silence under the pressure of his emotions. "You needed me, and I wasn't there to listen to your voice. And still, you gave me a chance." He blinked rapidly, trying to free himself from the tears to see clearly. "And I... I plunged us off a cliff to escape you." Will swallowed hard, his eyelids fluttering under the weight of a profound realization, his gaze slowly descending.

"Your beauty, … it frightened me. … I came to understand how complete I felt when I let you come to the forefront. And I – I panicked."

His eyes traced every nuance etched into the frozen countenance before him, yearning to decipher some elusive meaning.

"I need you, Miu. You are an integral part of me, just as I am an integral part of you. I … humbly see–seek your forgiveness," Will stammered, his words stumbling in their earnestness. His body quivered uncontrollably, a force he struggled to restrain as if the icy chill within had frozen his insides, threatening to convulse him into an involuntary fit. He trembled with fear, while Miu quivered with unbridled wrath. Bowing his head, Graham exposed his vulnerable neck to the creature, anticipating its sharp strike like a guillotine's blade. If death was to be his fate, it would be a fate of his own choosing.

Yet, when he sensed the creature's icy touch on his skin, he couldn't help but flinch. The palm was unexpectedly gentle, causing his composure to crumble like sand yielding to water. Overwhelmed with emotion, he wept bitterly, instinctively reaching out to grasp the creature's large torso as it descended, wrapping around him like a protective cocoon. "I remember you. You... you were always my protector. Whenever they … bullied me, yelled at me, or hurt me, you were there. Your anger was a shield against a world that treated me unfairly. You were furious because I was hurt, and I pushed you away, buried you, froze you, all because other people—people who found it inconvenient if I showed anger—told me not to overreact. But we weren't overreacting. Being hurt, being abused, anger is a perfectly natural response. It's the part of us that wants to … protect us. You were there to protect me," whispering softly, Will clutched Miu tightly as if by squeezing it, he could somehow quell his own trembling. "You took in all my pain, held onto my anger, and you never let go. You didn't forget; you didn't bury what was done to me. You wanted to make the world answer for it in my name," he said, his vision clouded with repressed childhood memories. He had always been the new kid in school, perpetually the small one, the outsider, the odd one, the target of their taunts and abuse, with nowhere to escape.

Consistently misconstrued in his intentions, perpetually branded as malevolent, no matter his actions or noble intentions, people twisted his motives into something sinister. Over time, his anxiety grew, as did his fear of reprimand and the prospect of yet another social blunder. Consequently, he withdrew further and further into himself.

Ironically, he mused, the creature most renowned for being misunderstood was a cat. He plummeted back into the abyss of his youth, embracing a coal-black demon in lieu of a once-beloved teddy bear. Those eyes that beheld him, they were veritable portals to the fiery maw of Hell, casting an infernal spell upon his very soul. What dark specter from his youth had he nurtured so fervently that it could swell to such monstrous proportions? What maternal aspect of his being could harbor such an icy rage that it might bring Hell itself to a frigid standstill? What infernal General had he unwittingly cultivated within the depths of his own being over all these years? For an ephemeral moment, the obsidian hue of its skin seemed to pulsate with a crimson tinge, akin to blood rendered dark beneath the moon's pallid glow. Its eyes bore down upon him with a lucidity that left no doubt in his mind.

Al-Jeneral Al-Ahmar. The Red General. A progeny of the Great Red Dragon, birthed from the fleeting splendor of a solitary moment.

It was but a fleeting glimpse, an elusive moment that eluded conscious apprehension. Yet, he could have sworn he beheld it—how it loomed above him, its pallid skin aglow in the moon's tender embrace, bedecked in golden embellishments adorned with azure gemstones that sparkled like stars. Atop its brow, a regal crown of alabaster feathers sparkled like celestial diamonds. Was it a demon or an angel? That question lingered in the recesses of his fading thoughts. Will could sense his strength waning, his fading vision catching glimpses of the heavens ablaze, with fire descending from the skies. In his weakened state, Miu tenderly guided his faltering body to the obsidian ground, curling protectively over him to shield him from harm, ensuring he wasn't crushed. As his eyes began to dim, he heard it—a sound akin to a cosmic vibration, a soothing purr that sent ripples through the darkness. It was like a droplet of water hitting a still surface, and a comforting blackness washed over him. He struggled to find words to capture the essence of the sound, except that it possessed a mending, healing quality—an exquisite balm for all that was amiss. It was a sound that permeated every fiber of his being, so potent that it seemed capable of distorting reality with its ripples as if it could outscream even the stars. Yet, it was not a scream; it was a gentle, tender sound, brimming with love, understanding, and solace. A sound with the power to pierce through any obstacle, even the darkness that lacked light. A sound capable of making the heavens tremble and hushing hell to stillness.

The purr of a merciful cat.

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