TW : SA (not too much tho)
got request by @midnightfalldown, but the idea come from @WayT0ManyFand0ms
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Camilo's POV:
I leaned back against the wall of a nearby house, eyes closed, savoring a rare quiet moment. Suddenly, a tap on my shoulder startled me. I opened my eyes to see a man—a stranger in his twenties, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark hair. He smiled warmly, but something about him made me uneasy. Still, I offered a small smile and waved.
"Oh—hello! Do you need something?" I asked politely, trying to stay calm.
He smiled back and waved. "I'm curious about your gift. If you don't mind, could I ask you some questions?"
I nodded, excitement flickering inside me. Not many people asked about my gift, and I liked sharing it. "Sure! Ask away."
Third Person POV:
At first, the questions seemed harmless. But soon, the stranger's curiosity took a sharp turn.
"Can you change specific parts of your body?" he asked.
"Uh... yeah," Camilo said, shifting his hair to look like Mirabel's for a moment, then back again.
The man nodded slowly. "Interesting. So, when you shape-shift, does everything change? Even under your clothes?"
Camilo's heart sank. He looked around—no one else was nearby. He forced a polite smile. "I'd rather not answer that. Maybe stick to other questions?"
The man leaned in closer. "Camilo, just answer. It's not a big deal."
Camilo stepped back, his discomfort growing. "No, thanks. That's personal. I'll answer other things, but not that."
The man's eyes gleamed strangely. "So... is that a yes?"
A cold shiver ran down Camilo's spine. The man's stare was intense, almost hungry. Camilo took another step back—and the man moved forward, blocking his way.
"No," Camilo said firmly, voice shaky but strong. "I'm done answering."
The man smirked. "Come on, just tell me. It's just a simple question."
Panic hit Camilo hard. His stomach twisted. He glanced around desperately—still no one.
"Please, stop," Camilo said, voice urgent. "I don't want to talk about this."
The man ignored him and reached to grab his arm.
Camilo's body reacted instantly. He shoved the hand away, heart hammering.
"Don't touch me!" he shouted, hands trembling.
The man's smile vanished, replaced by a dark glare. "You shouldn't be so rude," he muttered threateningly.
Fear exploded inside Camilo. He spun around and ran. His breath came fast and ragged as he fled down the empty street. Footsteps echoed behind him, but he didn't look back. Only one thought mattered: get away. Get home. Be safe.
He ran faster than ever, heart pounding in his ears, eyes stinging with tears. He rounded a corner and saw his house—a beacon of safety.
Just as hope filled him, a hand shot out, grabbing his wrist and yanking him backward. Camilo stumbled and fell hard onto the ground. The man laughed—a dark, cruel sound—as he leaned down and began dragging Camilo toward the edge of the nearby forest.
"No! Get off me!" Camilo screamed, kicking and struggling with everything he had. His voice was loud and desperate; he didn't care if anyone heard him as long as he could get free.
When they were far enough from the street, the man's laughter turned cold and harsh. He grabbed Camilo roughly, trying to silence him by hitting him. Panic and pain exploded inside Camilo, but he refused to stop fighting.
Then, without warning, the man started pulling at Camilo's clothes, trying to strip him. Camilo's heart pounded fiercely as he struggled, tears mixing with dirt on his face.
But deep down, something inside Camilo refused to give up.
Camilo's mind raced. He couldn't let this happen. Not here. Not like this. His hands pushed hard against the man's chest, trying to break free.
"Stop! Please!" he cried, but the man only tightened his grip.
Summoning every bit of courage, Camilo twisted his body and kicked out again, hitting the man's ribs hard. The man stumbled back, surprised.
Camilo didn't waste a second. He scrambled to his feet, his legs shaking but moving fast. He ran faster than he ever had toward the faint lights of the town.
Behind him, he heard the man's angry shouts, but he didn't look back.
His breath burned in his lungs, his heart pounding like a drum. Fear was still there, but stronger than it was fear was his will to survive.
Finally, he saw his house. The front door felt like a beacon of safety. With everything left in him, he pushed open the door, slammed it shut, and locked it tight.
Leaning against the door, tears streamed down Camilo's face. He was safe now. For the first time, he let himself breathe.
"I'm okay," he whispered, though his body was still shaking.
