Blood sprayed across Arish's face as his father's body collapsed. His knees buckled, his scream tearing through the cavern.
Shaetar, the Lightning Cheetah, slowed its blur until it stood before him—sleek, terrible, every muscle thrumming with lethal grace. Its golden eyes narrowed, and for the first time, Arish realized: it was enjoying this.
The beast lowered its head until its muzzle was inches from the boy's face. Its breath was hot, its voice a rumbling growl.
"Faster… faster…" it hissed, words wrapping around his mind like chains. "Scream more, little prey. Hahaha! You humans—so fragile. So foolish. You don't know your place.
Arish trembled, choking on sobs. His father's blood dripped from his small hands.
Shaetar's lips curled back, exposing fangs longer than daggers. One swipe, one bite, and the boy would be nothing more than red on stone. But instead, the beast turned away.
"Live, human," it mocked, tail lashing. "Live and suffer. Grow stronger if you dare. When you finally crawl high enough to reach me…" Its golden eyes glowed brighter. "…I'll tear you apart myself."
With a crack of thunder, Shaetar vanished into the depths, leaving Arish kneeling in silence.
The gate flickered. The dungeon began to collapse. Stones rumbled, dust choking the air. Somehow, through instinct and sheer terror, Arish stumbled toward the exit. The world outside swallowed him in cold air and moonlight..
He had survived.
But not because of his strength.
Because a monster had spared him.
And that, more than his father's death, carved a wound so deep it would never heal.
From that night onward, Arish carried two truths:
1 : His father's last words — Protect them.
2 : Shaetar's laughter — Mere human… know your place.
To be continued…