The silence that followed my father's disappearance was almost unbearable. I still felt his smell stuck in the air, like smoke that does not dissipate. Strong, heavy, marking territory even from a distance. My whole body trembled, not by the interrupted transformation, but by the emptiness it left. As if I had ripped something out of me just by being there.Naomi was too close. I was afraid to look at her because I already knew what I would see. Fear."Lancelot." Her voice came low, careful, as if talking to someone about to collapse.Closed my eyes. "Don’t say anything.""But I-""Please." My throat burned. I didn’t want to hear pity. I didn’t want to hear that she was afraid. Likewise, I did not want to see in her eyes the reflection of the monster that I almost showed.I felt her hand rub my arm again. My skin still pulsed from the incomplete transformation, but her touch did not make me react as before. It was human. A thread of reality."Come with me," she said firmly. It didn’t
The air seemed to tear when his voice echoed. Frozen. That’s how I stayed. Neither the pain of the interrupted transformation, nor the look of Naomi, nor the poisonous smile of Casper could compete with the weight of his presence. My body reacted before my mind—the bones, which were still throbbing from almost breaking, retracted. The unfinished claws became nails again. Because I knew who was there. I knew what it meant.My father.Naomi took a step back, but I realized the instant she recognized him. Her face lost color, her lips were half open, and her eyes widened the same way as in the cafeteria when she saw him bending me without any effort.Casper, on the other hand, stood still. The smile disappeared as if it had been forcibly torn out. He did not expect this.I meant something, anything. But the air seemed stuck inside me. I could only look at it—the same upright posture, the same dark suit, as if he had come from a funeral."It’s stronger," he said, the look running through
The air was too heavy. It was not only the heat of the crowd nor the sweet smell of the tents. It was inside me. Something is awakening. Something I knew too well. My heart beat as if it wanted to tear through my chest. The skin tingled, and every muscle seemed to prepare for a fight I didn’t want to fight.Casper was too close. Close enough for me to feel the weight of his words, even when I didn’t say them. He didn’t have to scream to hit me. Just looking at me was enough."No, not now," I said, but it wasn’t for him. It was for me. For that which dwelt in me."That," he replied, as if satisfied with my resistance. "Fight it."His voice was almost soft, but there was poison there. He knew exactly what he was doing. I could feel Naomi among us. The smell of her. Her heat. She was trying to protect me, even without understanding that it was from me that she needed to defend herself."Go away." My voice sounded more grave than I expected, with a tone that was no longer just mine."Yo
Casper wasn’t the type to leave traces. Still, after that conversation on the bridge, I realized he might be changing his personality.Two days later, the city was restless with the preparation for the Autumn Fair. I had already forgotten that it happened every year. It was a big event, but not as big as the stories of people coming from outside said.Lancelot had mentioned that he thought the festivities were very interesting, but that it was better not to go this time. "Too many people, too much noise," he said. I had already settled for the idea of spending the weekend at home. Only that morning, I received a message from Casper. 'Come to the festival. 'Ignored. At least I tried. But in the early evening, as the city lit up with lanterns and distant music, something in me began to move. A curiosity, although I knew it could be a mistake."Are you thinking of leaving?" Lancelot asked, without taking his eyes off the book he was leafing through. "I know you would like to go.I didn’
I couldn’t sleep. The feeling that something was about to explode dominated my thoughts, pulling me into a whirlwind of contradictory emotions. I didn’t know if Lancelot’s fear or the restlessness caused by Casper was worse. Perhaps they were both entwined, suffocating me.In the empty hours of the morning, my cell phone vibrated. It was a message. "Naomi. I need to talk to you." I knew it was only a matter of time before he contacted me.Likewise, I hesitated. Why did I still feel this need to answer? Why, even knowing how much he was able to hurt me, did my heart still press when his name appeared on the screen?After a minute that seemed like hours, I typed, "Talk."The answer came almost instantly, indicating a meeting place. It was far enough away for Lancelot not to follow.I sat on the couch, my breathing heavy, my hands shaking. What did he want? I knew I shouldn’t go, but I could find the perfect time to ask him to stop teasing Lancelot.The bridge of the address was deserted
The silence that followed Lancelot’s question was almost suffocating. He did not look at me anymore; he was with his elbows resting on his knees, hands joined, and head down. The broad shoulders went up and down irregularly, as if he was still trying to regulate his breathing."If he tries again…" he repeated, lower, as if testing the weight of his own sentence. "I don’t know if I’ll be able to avoid it."Sat in front of him, trying to find his look. "You avoided yesterday, I mean, avoided doing something bad, as always."He laughed without humor, a dry, short laugh. "Naomi, I did not avoid it. I fought against it. And yet you have no idea how close. Something must be going on."The way he said "for a bit" scared me. It was not a force of expression."Do you think he’ll try again?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer."I don’t think so. I’m sure." Lancelot ran his hand over his face, as if he wanted to tear off the tension that consumed him. "He got what he wanted yesterday