The Silence [Unfinished]

Oh When the Monsters Go

A few days after February and Zular get to February's hideout, Zular feels more isolated. If it's even possible to feel that way than in a group of the monsters. February has been in and out of the shelter farming her own. Planting tree seeds for the future and collecting more than there are around.

February's set up is right on an old farmland, far into the country side. She has been gathering plants for food, which seemed really strange to Zular at first, but then February explained to him that it's all she has and it's healthy for her. She also needed it for the livestock. He uses the word livestock, she uses the term "Future Food" instead.

February comes in one afternoon, Zular laying on a couch he had permanently burned, and whimpers silently to himself. He is thinking of taking on another form, but he doesn't want to kill for what he wants this time. He wants to but can't.

"February," Zular starts, February takes a seat immediately, taking off her sweater and gloves, "I'm going to try and go to the elders soon. I want to know more about my morphing. Maybe if I can morph into something I already have been." He explains. February nods, taking off her tool belt and her work shirt as she walks away, thinking about this as she changes into her loose fitting outfit she adores so much.

"What do you plan on being? I already told you a lot of things you could be." She tells him. He sighs and nods, looking out the window. Thinking of the right words.

"I want this to be a surprise." He tells her. She nods and walks back in, her hair a puffy yet clean mess, and sword in place on her back. "I like surprises!" She says happily. Zular purrs slightly, hoping that's what tigers in this world do. He is no expert at all, he only knows about his own kind. Nothing about the others he now shares this world with.

He looks up at February, looking at her clothing. The thin soles of her shoes, her almost glowing dark brown eyes, not reflecting fear anymore, but it shows that she has seen death, just like Zach's. Zular dismisses Zach from his mind as much as he can, the thoughts of Zach haunt him, but he cannot let it take control of his life like that. It would be a lower life form's doing if he did that.

But then he questions himself: What if he is a lower life-form now? What if the death of Zach and his betrayal to his kind has brought him lower than low where he came from?

But why don't I feel ashamed? He asks himself curiously. It is like he doesn't care about hierarchy anymore. He doesn't want to be the ultimate bad guy anymore. He wants to protect. Sure he's forcing himself to protect February, but he made a promise to Zach he would. He's not a bad guy anymore, to himself he thinks that. But February has her doubts. So would many other's due to the Monsters of Silence. He is not one of the bad guys, Zular insists on it. He swears over his life that he is not.

But what if the time comes to prove himself? What if he isn't all good and he must prove it? What if he can't prove that he is a good guy, and betrays the human race and jeopardises a seeming less perfect colony of species that thrive off the land just as much as any other species?

He can try something. But it could mean his head.

Zular gets up and looks at February. His eyes glowing dimly, a glimmer of yellow hits his left eye as he looks at the young girl.

"I should go now. I have things to do, for Zach, and this world," He nudges February lightly, "I will come back. I promise. As long as you stay alive, and keep doing what you're doing, I'll come back." He promises the girl. She nods and hugs him one last time before he leaves on his own.

As he goes out, all the animals start fussing. They curse him in a rein of moos, clucks, whinnies, and a few peeps from the chicks the chickens hold. The mother of the baby animals guard their kin protectively.

In the animal world, the predators are easily spotted by every animal. Zular took the form of a predator. They know this because, his legs and jaws are built with power and speed, the eyes on the front are made for precision, and his tail is for balance. A pristine feline made for a jungle, one made of trees. Not an urban jungle.

Zular continues through the maze of farm animal pens and ends up going through the stable holding one horse. A brown one of which he forgot what type of species he is. There are a lot of them, he is well aware that one type of species can hold much more variations. Nonetheless, more deadlier versions. Just as equally an opposite.

Zular looks at the horse as it backs away in fear. February called the horse Wind, because she likes how both the horse and wind sound. She loves the sound of it's breath it takes, the galloping of the shoes, the neigh. Her love for the wind is beyond what Zular can understand. She sat in a rainstorm that happened two days ago, she was soaked. But she enjoyed it.

She called the feeling; Freedom. To Zular, it feels like something Zach would say. Freedom. Zular had no idea what it meant, nor what it felt like. It was something foreign to him and his kind. But this word he'll soon find out what it's like.

Zular continues his way until the sewer line and the noise gets noticeable. He has grown used to the faint noise, but it gets louder as he gets nearer. I wonder who taught her that...

Zular, yet again, sets out on a journey to find out answers.

Maybe he'll be calling for death by doing so.