[Salvo's POV]
"If I told you… this isn't the real world… would you believe me?"
The room—went dead
silent.
Not the ticking of the old brass clock. Not the wind breathing against the windows. Not even my own breath.
Everything stilled.
Even time, maybe.
I just stood there… staring at him.
That boy—no, that thing—curled on the floor like a ragdoll made of trembling skin and cracked porcelain. His fingers clung to the edge of the bed like it could stop him from being dragged into something unspeakable.
And his eyes—they weren't just afraid anymore.
They were wrong.
Not broken.
Not confused.
Wrong.
Like something inside him didn't belong here.
Didn't belong in this world at all.
"What the fuck are you saying?" I snapped—not because I understood.
But because I didn't.
Because it made no fucking sense. And I hated things I couldn't control. He didn't flinch this time. Didn't cry. Didn't beg.
Just stared up at me, quiet as death.
