[CLANG!]
[DING.]
Sirus jolted upright, his body coiled into a defensive stance. Fists raised, knuckles brushing his cheeks, he scanned the room—eyes sharp, chest rising in short breaths.
A beat passed.
"…Right. I remember now. Hostages."
He relaxed with a sigh, rolling his shoulders. His gaze settled on the bookshelf still wedged against the door. Shaking his head, he leaned a shoulder into it and, with a casual grunt, shoved it aside.
The door creaked open.
There stood the father—arms stiff at his sides. The mother sat on the bed, clutching the daughter, who stood apart, eyes darting toward the hallway like a caged rabbit.
Sirus opened his mouth to speak—but the girl bolted.
Pathetic.
He caught her mid-sprint with a single hand wrapped around her throat, lifting her like she weighed nothing.
"Now, now... what do we have here?" he mused, tilting his head. His eyes briefly flicked to the man, watching for movement.
The father stepped forward, desperate—but Sirus raised a finger, slowly aiming it at the couple.
The threat was clear.
'Was she hungry… or trying to flee?' Sirus wondered. Her gasping breaths broke through his thoughts. He huffed and tossed her onto the bed. The mother caught her with a cry, cradling her bruised neck.
Sirus leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"They won't get far. Unless there's a back exit, they're trapped. Let them eat for now. Then... I'll decide."
He pointed at the father, then the door behind him.
The man hesitated, glancing at his weeping wife and daughter. A silent nod passed, and he gently helped them to their feet. Sirus stepped aside, trailing behind like a shadow.
When they paused at the hallway, unsure, Sirus pointed again—no words needed. The man flinched at how close the creature stood behind him.
Sirus smirked. A dry, twisted chuckle slipped from his lips.
"Damn this monster… he's toying with us."
The father's whisper amused him.
He turned his attention to two nearby doors. The left led to a pink-sheeted bed, plain and childish—clearly the girl's. The other? An office. Desk, shelves, a whiff of boredom.
"Girl's room. Man-cave," he muttered. "Predictable."
He returned to the family—now huddled in the corner.
"You three are ridiculous," he sneered. "You look like you're about to piss yourselves."
He pointed to the bathroom, then the stairs. With a final grin, he descended.
…
"Is it gone?" the father whispered.
"Papa… I can't hold it anymore," Bella whimpered, legs shaking.
Jacob sighed. "Go. But come right back."
The girl darted to the bathroom.
"…Why?" his wife asked.
"It pointed," Jacob muttered. "At the bathroom. Then the stairs. It knew. It let us."
His wife blinked. "What…?"
Jacob said nothing more.
Moments later, Bella emerged—relieved. But her expression shifted.
She sniffed the air. Smiled. Then ran.
"BELLA!"
Jacob stumbled after her, heartbeat thundering.
When he reached the kitchen, he froze.
There she stood—next to it—rocking on her heels like it was a normal morning.
"Papa! The monster is cooking eggs!"
"…What." He sniffed. Eggs. Real. Cooking.
Sirus didn't look down. "This child's a fool if she thinks I'm cooking for her too. Cook your own damn eggs."
He took a wooden plate and spoon, grabbed bread, and sat in a chair—dragging it in front of the front door.
Moments later, the mother crept in, surprised to see the stove smoldering with fresh wood and clean pans.
"He cooked… the eggs?"
Jacob gawked. "He… he did…"
Bella pouted, arms crossed.
"Don't stare, Bella," her mother warned. "I'll cook yours."
Without fear, she walked to the stove and began frying.
Jacob blinked. "You're just… ignoring the monster?!"
"If it wanted us dead, we'd be corpses by now. Eat."
"…Right."
Sirus, chewing bread, sighed.
'Why does everything here taste so good? Why are they so… calm now? This is giving me a headache.'
He stared blankly. "Yeah. Screw this. I'm leaving before I go dumb too."
Just as he moved the chair, Bella clung to his leg.
"The fuck do you want now?"
She poked his chest. He blinked.
"…Might as well get a shirt."
She wouldn't let go. With a sigh, he tickled her side with a knuckle—just enough to make her giggle and release him.
"Aww, look—they were playing," the mother beamed.
Jacob nearly ripped out his hair. "I'm losing my damn mind!"
Upstairs, Sirus searched the father's office. No wardrobe.
"Seriously? Desk. Books. Useless."
He turned—and bumped into Bella again.
Ready to snap, he lifted a hand—until she offered a black shirt with a grin.
"…You again."
He took it. Rolled his eyes. Headed downstairs.
BAM.
He collided with Jacob.
'…Shit. He's tall.'
Jacob flinched, hands up.
Sirus's mana pulsed with irritation. He slung the shirt over his shoulder and pushed the door open.
"What is wrong with this family?"
With a snarl, he walked toward the river.
He pulled on the shirt. A little baggy. Probably the father's.
"I'll grow into it."
At the river's edge, he paused. 'Left or right?'
"Right. If I drifted down stream, then heading back should lead me home."
Without looking back, he followed the river—toward what remained of his village.