The shadows are flickering in the box that appears to be emptied.
Shifting, waiting, he had lost track of the days that went by in the little box. He always did when it came to this, subjugation of the beast was a hard thing to gain after all.
The shadows seem to press against the glass box almost eagerly.
Intent. Watching. Waiting.
Did they remember he was here?
They did not like it here.
People asked too many questions, did horrible things just because they could. Or was it because they wanted answers? The child didn’t care. They’d grown tired of this game. They’d grown tired of being confined.
So, when their door was opened next, they struck.
It was surprisingly easy - then again, these strangers could not hurt them. It didn’t matter, really, they could and would just keep getting up. The screaming was amusing, in a faint way, and they kept going.
They had a few new leaky spots, like the one on their forehead and their arm, but they didn’t care about that either. No, they were more intrigued by the other rooms; they had to deal with one of the scientists, ignore his begging while they tore a chunk out of his neck with their teeth, but once they had they pushed on the door til it opened.
Ah. A box full of shadow. Not as interesting as the feeling they were getting.
They couldn’t pinpoint what it was so they decided to approach, slowly raise one bloodied hand and press it against the glass, lean forward curiously. Red eyes raked over what they could see, head tilted and mouth half opened as if they were going to ask something; instead a dribble of red made its way down their cheek and they grimaced.
They didn’t really have the words left to vocalize it, anyhow, but they’d tried.
