Ugh… this white room was burning my eyes.Too bright. Too clean. Too wrong.
And worse than all of it—the blond one was still there on the floor.On his knees.
Hands forced behind his back. Rope biting into his wrists. His mouth sealed shut with thick tape, useless. A blindfold wrapped tight over his eyes so he couldn't see anything.
Pathetic.
Why couldn't he just be a proper dessert? Why couldn't fear leak out of him like it did from the others? If he screamed—if he panicked—maybe whatever was choking me would finally snap.I stepped closer.Three heavy steps.Then I slammed my hoof down beside his head, hard enough to crack the floor and send the sound screaming through the room.He flinched violently.His body jerked, breath hitching, muffled noises forcing their way past the tape.Still… not enough.No fear flooding the air. No delicious terror pouring out.
Useless.
I snarled and turned away from him, rage crawling under my skin. I rammed the walls instead—shoulder first, horns scraping, hooves slamming into corners and seams.Nothing.Not a crack. Not a tremble.This place didn't bend."USELESS."
The word tore out of me in the stolen voice of a dead scientist—flat, hollow, wrong.
The sound echoed. I could hear the blond one breathing faster behind me, the rope creaking as he shifted.I hit the wall again. Harder.Pain flashed through my body—not enough to stop me, just enough to remind me I was being held.That's when I felt it.Not chains.Not weapons.Pressure.
Invisible. Constant. Pushing inward, squeezing my growth, forcing my body to stop where it was.I tried to grow again.Failed.
I roared, the sound rattling the lights above. Alarms screamed somewhere beyond the walls.Good.Let them hear.I turned back toward him slowly, looming over his blindfolded form. He couldn't see me—but I could feel the way his body stiffened, every muscle locked tight.I leaned down until my breath washed over his hair.
No fear.Just tension.That burned worse than bullets.
I mimicked softly, close to his ear, my voice slipping and stitching itself together.
"Why… won't… you… break?"
His body shuddered.Still no scream.I straightened, teeth grinding together.Fine.
If fear wouldn't come to him naturally…I'd teach him.
And when this white room finally failes—they'd all learn what happens when you cage something that refuses to stay contained.
Time didn't move right in that room.
The lights never dimmed. Never flickered. Just white, constant, burning. I couldn't tell if hours passed or minutes. My body ached in a way that had nothing to do with wounds. It was restraint. Suppression. Like the air itself was pressing against my bones, telling me no.
The blond one stayed where he was.On the floor. Knees numb. Hands tied behind his back. Tape stretched tight over his mouth. Blindfold soaked dark with sweat and fear he refused to let spill.That refusal irritated me.I paced.Chains scraped. Hooves clicked against the floor. Every sound echoed too cleanly. I stopped in front of him again and lowered my head slowly, letting the shadow of my antlers fall over his body.He stiffened.Good.I struck.
Not with horns. Not to kill. Just a sharp, brutal hit of my hoof against his ribs. Hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, to make his body fold and choke on the sound he couldn't scream.He gasped behind the tape, shaking.Still not enough.
I hit him again. Slower this time. Controlled. I wanted the fear to rise, to leak out, to finally taste right.His breathing turned frantic. His shoulders trembled.
I reached down, grabbed him by the collar of his clothes, and dragged him a short distance across the floor. His skin burned against it. His body knocked hard once, twice.Then I raised my hoof again.I meant to scare him.I didn't mean to hook the rope.The edge of my hoof caught the binding around his wrists, already strained, already old. The force snapped it like dry fiber.The rope gave way.
I froze.
So did he.
His hands came free slowly, almost like he didn't believe it. For a moment he didn't move at all. Just breathed. Then his fingers shook, and he tore the tape from his mouth in one violent motion, gasping, coughing, sucking in air like it hurt.
He reached up and ripped the blindfold away.Our eyes met.
And his eyes? Anger burned in them, buried deep, controlled. He spat blood onto the white floor.I lowered my head to his level and smirked, letting out a low, broken laugh.He smirked back.
"Why… did you… do that?" he asked, breathless.
For a second, I thought he spoke from fear. For a second, I almost tore his head off right there.But I didn't smell it.Not even a trace.No fear.None.
What the fuck.I struck.
My horns slammed forward, missing him by inches and crashing into the wall behind his head. Stone cracked. The impact rang through the room. I held myself there, trapping him between my antlers and the wall, our faces inches apart.
I stared into his eyes, forcing it. Willing it.Fear.Just one drop.Nothing.
I pulled back sharply and turned away, hooves heavy against the cold floor as I crossed to the other side."Now or later…" I mimicked in the voice of an angry soldier, the sound jagged and wrong. "You will drop."I turned my head slightly, eyes burning."And I?" my voice dropped, slow and sharp. "I will tear you apart… until your bones remain. Keep that in mind."
I sat down, facing away from him.
Just like that, the day passed.Or maybe only hours did. Time meant nothing here.
I stayed where I was, coiled in anger, hunger grinding against my bones, until a sound snapped my head around.There was a window.Wide. Set into the center of the wall.
What the-How did it just—
I charged.
My body slammed into the glass with a sound like a drum being struck. The force threw me backward. I hit the floor hard, breath knocked from my chest.No pain.
Only rage.
Why the fuck can't I break through that shit?
I stood again and stared at the window. Through it, I could see them. Five… maybe nine humans. Some dressed in black, some in white. Watching. Studying.
I lunged again.Boom. Another failure.A voice cut through the room."You… simply can't break that."I focused on the speaker. A human with glasses.
I mimicked him immediately, my voice dragged and wrong. "Whyy…"
"Simply," he said, stiffening, "this wall is break-proof. Understood?"I charged again.Once.Twice.Again.
I wasn't bored.I was angry.I was starving.
The longer I stayed, the worse it became. I had a snack here, yes, but fear had to be dragged out first, milked until it screamed. Him. I wanted him. I wanted to break him last."Stop," the voice said.I didn't."Stop," louder.Still didn't."STOP THAT!"
I paused. Slowly lifted my head. Locked eyes with him through the glass.
Then I mimicked his tone perfectly."Stop… that?"I tilted my head and grinned, showing every knife-sharp tooth.He stepped back.Even through the glass, I smelled it. Fear. Clean. Fresh.My stomach twisted with need.
I backed up.
Then charged harder than before.The glass cracked.Just a hairline fracture. But it was there.Fear exploded on the other side. All of it. Every one of them.
I hit again. And again. And again.The crack spread.Then the blond grabbed me.
Useless.I yanked him forward and slammed him against the wall with me, pinning him there. Still useless.
And then—A canister hit the floor.
Smoke burst out, thick and wrong. Not just smoke. It burned my eyes. Crawled into my lungs. My head spun.
No.
I stumbled forward, vision blurring, glass so close now I could taste it. My eyes watered. The world tilted.I tried to roar.It came out broken.The floor rushed up.
The last thing I felt was rage clawing at the dark as my head hit the ground.
And then—
Nothing.