The Torn Weft ~ COMPLET

The evolution of Man

Tragedy clutched his chest as his eyes opened to the realization. The pain. The pain was the same. Not worse, not less. It was always the same. Why was it always the same? It should ravage him and leave him almost dead. But it didn't. It was the same. That could only mean one thing: Mutulu's essence had not evaporated into the ether. Hope, like a fresh wave, flooded his body. A long shiver ran through his body.

— Mutulu...

Where could he be? He held his head in his hands and thought back to the evening. He had been preoccupied since the puppet's 'death'. The essence seemed to be weakening. The voodoo wizards were at best sceptical, at worst defeatist about the success of another insemination. But it was vital! If he lost Mutulu, the Trio would no longer have a purpose and that would be to doom his brother and sister. With their limited powers, even the werewolves wouldn't want them in this world or the next... he'd done his best to keep his Partner 'alive'. Yes, he loved him and had done so selfishly too, but he wasn't the only one involved. Four years he had held on. He had been the first to bond but also the first to lose his Partner. He had condemned his sister and brother to incompleteness, so he had chosen half a life. He had held on. Now that his family had their Partner and they had forged the bond, perhaps he could rest? No more suffering.

When the demon smashed the urn on the ground Tragedy had shamefully felt relief. Then his primal instinct, the very essence of the Cerberus took over. This creature had hurt his Partner so he had to pay and Tragedy had seen red. All the resentment, the jealousy, the hatred against this insignificant demon rose up at once. It was Murmur who, at the time, had captured the demon and decided to imprison it in the body of this boy of barely fifteen years. Why this boy and not another? Tragedy didn't care. He had been against this solution from the beginning. Normally every demon apprehended was sent back to the other side so why keep him? Tragedy shook his head, he was drifting off into useless thoughts. Since Mutulu's 'death' he was weakening intellectually, physically too... he was hiding it. He refocused.

— The human!

Now he remembered. Without worrying about his outfit, he rushed to the infirmary. He had to find out for sure. He ran down the corridors, slipping on the tiled floor with his bare feet, until he reached the infirmary.

The door slid open with a gasp, leaving the panting, sweating Cerberus to enter. It was a place of modern facilities and bright colours. There was a medical smell partially camouflaged by a synthetic floral scent. The HQ had a medical team but at this hour the place was empty. The four medical beds lined up and the fifth was separated from the rest of the room by a screen for privacy. The window faced east but the building next door hid the sunrise. Tragedy walked, almost staggering, to the last bed and passed the screen. The man lying there was pale, with a slight morning beard. Tragedy forced himself to look at the whole face. He frowned. In his memories of the evening, the man had a different face, whereas here... even though he was not similar to Mutulu, some features were there, like the generous mouth, the shape of the eyes, but the nose and cheeks and the line of the chin were different. Tragedy's hand shook as he pushed back a lock of black hair. He was confused. Was it really him?

— Mutulu?

Now that he could see him, feel him as a human, Tragedy wanted to know, but the man was sleeping. So he sat down beside him and waited for him to wake up.