Chains rattled as Kaito, bound to the cold stone wall, exhaled calmly. Two beasts circled him—one massive and ugly, the other gaunt, its ribs visible through thin, sickly skin.
Their yellow eyes beamed with hunger.
The larger beast moved first, its long claws scraping against the cement floor as it charged, each step showing its deadly intent.
Kaito tilted his head slightly, sidestepping with ease, causing the creature to crash into the wall beside him. His gaze remained cold, emotionless.
Then the second charged as well, faster due to its lesser weight. He only stepped to the side to dodge its attack.
"Predictable," Kaito mumbled and heaved a bored sigh. He could see their every move. He knew their strategy—which was not actually a strategy. Their moves weren't clever, nor were they random.
Their movements were planned, following a pattern—clumsy, instinct-driven, and easy to read.
The first beast charged again, but Kaito's foot moved, shifting his weight just enough to avoid the strike and at the same time jump high enough to reach the beast's head.
Before it could react, he raised his leg and delivered a heavy and painful kick to its eye. The beast howled in agony, stumbling backward as blood poured from its eye.
Kaito leaped off its head and landed on the same spot he had left, straightening himself up. He raised his head, only to meet the face of the other beast before him, an inch away from him.
Kaito landed lightly back in the spot he was in, adjusting his posture slowly. He looked up, only to find the smaller beast already before him, inches away from his face, its maw snapping shut at him.
However, that didn't seem to move him. Instead, he blinked, slowly leaning his head to see what the beast would do, as though observing a curious insect. But it hesitated.
And that brief pause was its mistake.
Kaito acted quickly. Twisting his hands, he slipped free of the cuffs and chains around his hands. Grabbing the loose chains, he coiled them around his right hand, leaving out a length, enough to wrap around the beast's neck.
But before he could strike, something unexpected happened. The beast did not make a move or lunge at him. Instead, the smaller one backed away, retreating to the side of the other.
That managed to draw out an expression from Kaito. His brows rose in confusion, noticing they were not looking at him, but slightly above him.
For the first time, Kaito's expression shifted. His brows rose in slight confusion, noticing that their gazes were not on him, but slightly above him.
Then he saw the silhouette of whoever was behind him on the floor and what looked like a staff in their hands, raised above them.
Kaito cursed inwardly. He'd forgotten one crucial thing—always do a head count before a fight.
An embarrassing mistake that he knew would not be corrected.
"Sh....." his words were cut off instantly when a heavy baton struck the side of his face with brutal force, and he let the darkness swallow him.
---
Later:
"Yep, that's me.
You're probably wondering how I ended up in this mess. Chained to a wall a thousand times my height, facing off against two beasts that ultimately knocked me unconscious.
What was supposed to be a simple, solitary life, free from the distractions of others, turned into something even I, a self-proclaimed introvert, would call torture.
But it's not as random as it seems.
It goes deeper than that.
You see, I wasn't raised like other people. There were no nurturing hands, no comforting words. Instead, my childhood was filled with syringes, test tubes, and the cold, awful fluorescent lights on me, watching my every move. I was raised by scientists. Not the curious kind.
Mad scientists... obsessed with their own views of perfection, power, and discovery. Their experiments, their need to control everything, were the only constants in my existence.
There were no soft clothes or love. Only test tubes, syringes, oxygen tubes, blood, and countless other tools they used to shape their "masterpiece."
Now, let me be blunt—I envy humans.
Not in the way you might think, though. Their minds are messy, their emotions all over the place. But I envy their ignorance. Their ability to enjoy meaningless lives, to make stupid decisions, and somehow laugh it off. I envy their lack of awareness.
Humans use less than ten percent of their brains, and they're fine with it. They squander potential every day, and yet they wake up, smile, and go about their lives as if none of it matters.
I can't stand them. Most of them are pathetic. But I don't care about sounding rude. The truth is what it is.
Humans are nothing more than animals with good postures dressed in clothes. A few steps above filth, perhaps, but not by much.
If I offend you, it's likely because you can't accept the truth. I've said something true but refuse to acknowledge it. Maybe it's because, deep down, you know I'm right. You just don't want to admit it.
I don't want anything from the world. I don't need anyone. I just want to be left alone. Eat. Sleep. Read. Repeat. I have no interest in the pointless drama others live through.
But to live that kind of life, you'd need a place separate from this chaotic, noisy world. A place like where my father came from—or perhaps a home built deep underground. Somewhere isolated, away from earthquakes and 'merge quakes'—that's what they've been calling them lately.
So, how did I end up in this situation?
In a fortress even the most feral creatures can't destroy, guarded by monsters who must have better things to do, like the upcoming war or hunting.
And somehow, despite all of that, I'm the one they want.
It's laughable, really. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it—just a little. The constant pursuit, the endless challenges. Humans. Beasts. Demons.
And what they want is control.
Something I won't be giving anyone, anytime soon."