The road was quiet and wet, showing that rain had fallen a while ago.
The road was dark without any other source of light other than light from the gray coloured car.
It curved through the hills and empty silence. All shops have already closed within the area, and not even one pedestrian can be seen in the area, other than a small figure sitting at the roadside.
It barefoot boy with pale skin, and lay there motionless.
Judge from his physical, he should not be older than six years old. His posture held a strange, unnatural stillness. His black hair clung to his forehead in damp strands, and his skin, though dirt-smudged, was smooth like porcelain. His eyes opened slowly as the wind stirred around him faintly red, glowing, just for a moment.
Then they faded.
He didn't know where he was.
Not even a clue.
All he remembered was fire.
Screams. Chains. Pain. And then freedom.
A flash of light with a tearing sensation that feels pain but is comfortable.
And now?
He has no clue.
His body became small. He arrives in this familiar but unfamiliar world.
Leo.
That has been his name since before he got placed into that place, and it will always be his name.
---
The headlights of a silver sedan cut through the dusk, slowing down. Tires crunched as the car pulled to the shoulder and stopped.
The driver's door opened.
A woman stepped out, wearing a coat and a scarf pulled tight around her neck. She looked to be in her early 40s, with streaks of silver at her temples and a tired beauty that clung to her despite the stress in her eyes. Her hair was styled ponytail with a necklace that decorated her neck.
Her name was Clara Monroe. A lonely woman who has a husband but lives like she doesn't have one. Not even once. It's all because her husband is busy with his job and doesn't have time for her.
She always wanted a child but never had one. Whenever she asks, all she gets is the same lame excuse from her husband, which is 'too tired for a child'.
When she stared at the boy, her heart quickened. "Oh God… are you okay, sweetheart?"
Leo didn't answer.
His head tilted, ever so slightly, as if studying her. His expression was calm. Too calm.
Clara stepped closer, crouched gently. "What's your name?"
"…Leo."
"You're lost? Do you have any parents? Family?"
He shook his head.
There was a heaviness in the air around him one Clara couldn't explain. The way he looked at her made her chest tighten. It wasn't fear. It wasn't even sadness.
It was as if the child wasn't a child at all.
She hesitated. Her husband would hate this. Don was never home anymore, and when he was, he was more of a ghost than a man. The house had been quiet for so long.
So cold.
"I'll take you home," she whispered. "Just for the night. Until we figure something out."
---
That night, she gave him a bath.
Leo obeyed quietly, undressing without modesty or hesitation. He didn't flinch from the warm water or from her hands as she gently scrubbed the dirt from his skin.
His body was that of a child… but something in his gaze made her feel like she was the one being seen.
Clara dried him, dressed him in an old t-shirt, and tucked him into the guest bed. He didn't resist, didn't ask questions. He just smiled faintly and closed his eyes like he belonged there.
She stood in the doorway far too long.
Her chest felt heavy. Her stomach tight. And she didn't understand why.
All she knows is that this child is special to her.
---
That night, Clara dreamed vividly.
Of finger plays within her inner thigh. Licking it and eating her.
She woke up flushed. Wet.
Satisfied.
It had been years since she'd had a wet dream like that. She lay in bed, her heart racing, biting her lip in the silence of her room. Don, her husband was snoring downstairs. Their marriage had been dead for years.
She closed her eyes.
And imagined boy that she picked up today.
---
In the guest room, Leo lay awake.
He felt her arousal. Her longing. Her confusion.
He fed on it. His power was growing with it.
But not fully.
Not yet. His power was fractured, like shards of broken glass, buried deep within this small body. But the hunger was there.
And it would only grow.