"MOTHER, NOOO! DON'T LEAVE ME!"
Sirus jolted awake, eyes wide with shock, breath caught in his throat. He gasped, chest heaving, and sat up with a sharp inhale. Cold air seared his lungs as he blinked rapidly, tears gathering in the corners of his crimson eyes.
His lower body was half-buried in wet sand and icy water. A shiver crawled up his spine.
"Where... am I?" he muttered, glancing around with dazed urgency. "Why am I washed up on a river?"
His voice grew heavier, darker.
"It doesn't matter. I need to find out where I am. But... if those humans killed my mother—"
His voice cracked into a deafening roar.
"—I SWEAR I'LL BURN THEIR BODIES TO ASH, EVEN IF I DIE DOING IT!"
The cry echoed through the trees, startling birds and scattering unseen wildlife.
He growled under his breath, looking down at himself. His shirt was torn to ribbons, clinging uselessly to his soaked chest.
"Tch. Great. At least my pants survived. This shirt's dead weight."
He crossed his arms, grabbing the shredded garment, and pulled it over his head, flinging it into the river.
He looked down at his bare feet. No shoes.
"Not even my custom-made shoes... Mother got me those." His voice trembled. He touched his face. His tears were thick and dark. "Why are my tears black? My blood too…? Tch. Great. Trees. Trees. And more trees. Wait—what's that? A dock?"
He stared ahead.
"Doesn't look like anyone's on it from here…"
He sighed and put his clawed hands on his hips, glancing behind him—then froze.
"AHHHH! M-MOTHER?!"
A glimpse. A trick of the light. No. A human.
"The fuck!? Why is there a human here?! I need to hide—!"
He took a step back with his right leg—and pain exploded through his heel. He collapsed, hitting a jagged rock that slammed into his shoulder, and cried out in agony.
"FUCK! That hurts! Arghh! Shit—shit—not now!"
Clenching his teeth, he dragged himself backward with both hands, edging toward the river. If he could just reach the current… maybe it would carry him away. But the shore betrayed him—sharp rocks littered the path, too dangerous for his small, fragile form.
"Fuck!" he hissed again as heavy footsteps thundered nearby.
His heart pounded. Each beat a scream.
He scrambled harder. His hand slipped. His skull smashed against a jagged stone, and darkness rushed in. Blood—thick and black—oozed from the back of his head.
'What a useless demon I am…'
---
[Thump]
[Thump]
A tall man burst through the underbrush, a sword at his hip and fire in his eyes. His frame was thick, his brown shirt stained with dark fluid, and his black trousers were loose and worn. Short ginger hair clung to his scalp with sweat. His black eyes were sharp and alert.
Trailing behind him, holding tightly to his side, was a young girl. Slender, black ponytail bobbing as she ran, she wore a red blouse and a white skirt that fluttered around her knees. Her dark brown eyes flicked nervously between the trees.
"Where's the monster, Bella?" the man barked, scanning the treeline.
Bella hesitated, eyes wide. "Maybe… it ran away?"
He didn't relax, but his grip on the sword loosened. "Can you remember what it looked like?"
She chewed her lip, tapping her chin. "I was scared… but I think it had long white hair. Or silver. And weird legs… That's all I saw, Papa."
He scratched his head. "Weird legs and white hair... Can't be human then…"
While he pondered, Bella wandered toward the river. She crept to the edge of a slope, peering down. Her eyes widened.
"Father! The monster's here!"
He snapped out of his thoughts, rushed over, and yanked her back from the slope before looking down himself.
The creature was there—crumpled among sharp rocks, unmoving.
"…It's unconscious?"
He squinted. Human-like... but not quite. Black blood stained the stones behind its head, and two small horns peeked through its hair.
"It fell," he muttered. "Panicked, maybe. But what the hell is it?"
He stabbed his sword into the dirt, then carefully descended the slope.
"Bella, run back home and bring rope. Your mother knows where it is. And get some bandages too—quickly!"
"Okay!" she cried, already turning.
"And Bella!" he shouted after her. "Hurry!"
Alone with the creature, the man knelt.
"…Clawed hands. White hair. Skin like ours, but those legs… What are you?"
Minutes later, Bella returned, arms full of supplies.
He tied the creature's wrists and ankles, then gently wrapped its head to stanch the bleeding. Carefully, he lifted it onto his broad shoulder.
They climbed back up the slope together.
Bella followed in silence, her gaze drifting to the creature's tangled hair. She couldn't see its face—but something about that hair…
'It's beautiful,' she thought with a flicker of envy. 'Why can't mine be like that…?'