the forgotten one
#10
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He could not see, but he heard her voice. Of course the tawny male had been destined to fail in his attack. He was weak and could hardly stand, much less walk or run; the pads on his feet were swollen and sore, and he teetered precariously with every step. Her voice startled him and he swayed, falling again against the wall just to keep himself standing. Who was she? Daddy? Laruku offered a bitter, coughing laugh and did not directly face her because he could not see where she stood. Get out of the way, he snarled, once again tasting the blood in his mouth. He deserves to die, he deserves it. There was cackling laughter in his head, like a hyena, like a clown. For some reason, it calmed him. It felt normal.



I hate him, he told her with a tired sneer, I hate him because he turned into me, can't you see? I'm a fucking monster; I'm still a fucking monster.

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