Waylinn kept his promise. But when they arrived at the familiar hall, there was no sign of Marchio.
"You are unlucky, my Lord is not here." Waylinn said. His voice tinged with regret. He glanced around the room. Nevertheless, nothing could mask the subtle signs of Marchio's absence.
Heka sank onto the plush sofa, the very spot Marchio favored. The cushions still held the imprint of his presence, but the emptiness was palpable.
Disappointment weighed heavily on Heka's chest. He had been so eager to meet Marchio, to finally understand the man who had intrigued him from afar.
"When will he come back?" Heka asked softly. His eyes scanned the room as if Marchio might suddenly appear from the shadows.
Waylinn shrugged, a shadow crossing his face. His uncertainty was unsettling, but he said no more. "I don't know. I also don't know where he goes either."
As Heka sat quietly. His gaze fell upon a small figure nestled near the teapot. On the table, a tiny dragon, no larger than a cat, with iridescent scales that shimmered in the soft light.
It was Marchio's favorite companion. The dragon stirred, stretching its delicate wings before hopping down and making its way toward Heka.
Curious, Heka extended his hand. The little dragon responded immediately. It curled around his wrist like a living bracelet.
Heka murmured, feeling an inexplicable connection to the creature. "Where is your master? I want to meet him?"
Waylinn watched with a mixture of curiosity and caution. He asked, genuinely puzzled by Heka's sudden eagerness. "Why do you want to meet my master?"
Heka frowned, struggling to articulate the strange yearning inside him. He admitted. "I don't know, I just wanted to meet him."
The feeling was elusive, like a half-remembered dream slipping through his fingers. All he knew was that the desire to meet Marchio was overwhelming and sincere.
Suddenly, the little dragon nipped at Heka's hand. A sharp sting, followed by a trickle of blood. Heka winced but didn't pull away.
Instead, he watched as the dragon lapped at the wound. It drank his blood with an almost reverent hunger.
Heka asked softly, a mixture of surprise and wonder in his voice. "Do you like my blood?"
When the dragon drank, a peculiar sensation blossomed in Heka's mind. Images flickered behind his eyes. The fragments of memories he had never known, feelings he had never felt. It was as if a hidden part of his soul was awakening, a lost memory returning from the depths of time.
***
Animal House had contacted Heka earlier that day with a brief but urgent message: the rabbit's order was complete. Without
hesitation, Heka set out to retrieve it. -His mind focused on the task ahead.
As he navigated through the city, Heka began to notice something unnatural. People on the sidewalks moved oddly. They didn't walk forward. Instead, they walked backward. Some of them stood frozen in place. As he was the only one who moved around.
The vibe felt thick with tension, like the calm before a storm. A cold shiver ran down Heka's spine. He didn't understand what was happening. However, instinctively he knew something was wrong.
Feeling a surge of unease, Heka instinctively drew the attention of those nearby. He honked his horn sharply, flashing his headlights. He tried to break the eerie silence and alert others to his presence.
His heart pounded in his chest as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. Eyes scanned the streets for any sign of danger.
Despite the confusion swirling around him, Heka forced himself to concentrate on driving. His senses sharpened, every sound and movement amplified in his mind.
The vibe outside his car window seemed distorted, as if reality itself was bending. He couldn't make sense of the strange behavior of the people, but he refused to let fear control him.
Then, without warning, a heavy thud echoed through the air. Something or someone had fallen right onto the roof of his car.
The sudden impact jolted Heka. He slammed on the brakes. The tires screeched against the asphalt. His breath caught in his throat as he stared in disbelief.
Heart racing, Heka threw open the door and stepped out cautiously. The street was eerily silent except for the faint rustling of leaves in the cold wind.
There, sprawled behind his car, was a person covered in blood. The clothes were torn and soaked. The sight was shocking, the crimson staining the pale skin stark against the dim light. The figure's chest rose and fell weakly, struggling for breath.
He was a little scared. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on his chest as he dragged the man down from where he had fallen, careful not to cause further harm.
The man's body was limp. Every movement sent a shiver of dread through Heka's spine. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he forced himself to focus on the grim task ahead. Nevertheless, he had to check whether the person was still alive or dead.
With trembling hands, Heka kneeled down beside the man. He hesitated for a moment, then gently pressed his finger against the man's nose. He sought the faintest sign of breath.
But nothing. No movement, no warmth, no life. The stillness was absolute.
"That means this person is dead already right before he dropped above my car." Heka whispered to himself. The words tasted bitter on his tongue.
A cold wave of panic surged through him. He scrambled to his feet, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
-"At least I didn't kill him." He muttered. He tried to convince himself, but the fear gnawed relentlessly at his mind.
Suddenly, a sharp blow struck the back of his head. Injured exploded across his skull, but strangely, no blood flowed from the wound.
Nevertheless, it was clear. Like the wound has been washed perfectly. But let the crimson cover the clothes.
What he saw, made his vision blurred. He staggered, struggling to stay upright.
When his eyes cleared, he saw it. The same creature he had encountered on the bridge that fateful night. The Fayfiend.
Its eyes glowed with a cold, unnatural light, and its movements were slow, deliberate, almost predatory. Heka's heart was hammered in terror. He was utterly alone.
"Waylinn, where are you? Help me…" Heka groaned. His voice cracked as he called out desperately.
Whether Waylinn could hear him or not no longer mattered. He clung to the hope that the one person he trusted would come to his aid.
"Waylinn… Waylinn… Waylinn… please come…" His voice echoed weakly in the empty street. It was swallowed by the oppressive silence.