Dusk

-9-

Chat Noir's P.O.V.

He looked unbelievably weak, structured with scrawny legs and thin arms. His shoulders weren't nearly as wide as mine; usually those who ventured out were overly buff, but miraculously stupid. Pretty convenient for me, if you were to ask.

I noted that his clothes didn't even seem to fit; the dark colored trousers bagged in all the wrong places and the light shirt hung off in odd ways. After all, who wore light colors into the woods? I would've concluded he had made a wrong turn at the last sidewalk, but with the presence of his cloak covering his face I concluded he had meant to be in the woods.

Or, that he was sneaking around in town and made a wrong turn.

Usually those who came to find me would boast of their conquest. I would scare them a bit, and they'd go running out. Others weren't so lucky.

Others were so very unlucky, sometimes I didn't find them first.

Someone else did.

Or at least I thought so.... sometimes my mind becomes a bit hazy and I don't remember certain things. 

That only happened occasionally though, and today had been the occasion. 

I had woken up as usual; in a cold, damp room. Alone. But it felt like the darkness was still there, despite the light dripping through the moth-eaten curtains on the north wall.

 I don't dream anymore, I haven't for many years. Sleep only numbed what I felt anymore. I miss dreaming, where the sun warms your skin and you're with those you love. It's a beautiful thing, dreaming. Maybe I'm too damaged to dream anymore, my mind can't even make up sweet stories to spin as I sleep. 

I couldn't shake the feeling today. Like it was creeping up on me, getting closer and closer until it blurs my vision and all I see is black. I used to scream; it was like I was trapped inside myself in my own mind. I couldn't resurface, no matter what I did. 

Now I just curl up and wait for it to be over, I sing a song that feels as if it's from another life. 

This morning it came quicker than usual.

Instead of risking destroying even more of my desolate home, I decided to take a walk. Maybe it would calm my stirring thoughts, the ones not even I could decipher. I walked around for hours with my eyes glazed over, trying to focus on small things like insects and wildlife.

It didn't help that they'd always run from me.

I usually would walk deeper into the forest, but for some reason I had found myself dangerously close to the town. The chattering of fleeing townspeople fluttered through my ears.  I became alert and nerves stirred in me, this only escalated the churning energy inside. I began to run as far as I could back into the forest. Not caring if I ended up back at my home.

Better to destroy it than innocent people.

My hair slipped in and out of my cloak, I ran with my clenched fists as my claws cut into my flesh. Tears started to prickle my eyes and spots flooded my vision. I knew I wasn't far enough away, but I had no way of getting further. How big would it be this time? 

I vaguely remember tripping on a vine and flying towards the ground.

I didn't feel the impact.

I was gone before then.

After that, just darkness. 

I came to how I usually did, distance singing that I would grasp on to; trying to identify the owner of the voice. They were the only one who gave me something to hold on for. I would then realize it was my own voice, muttering and whispering something incoherently to draw myself back out. I would awake in a circle of black; battered, bruised, tired, and always utterly confused.

To this day I still have no idea what happens when something tucks me back into my mind. 

I'd be lying if I said it didn't terrify me.

I'm terrified to touch anyone. To even be around them. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone.

Someone else. 

I had been coming to; stringing back to my consciousness when I heard footsteps. They had soon stopped and I figured it was an animal. I kept singing, bitter chuckles escaping my lips every once in a while. I felt my ribs burn with every breath, the sticky grime on the palms of my hands. I was way too aware of the strings of hair framing my face; barely sticking to my face because of drying sweat. I could barely lift my heavy lids, them singing for just an ounce of blissful rest. My legs would cramp and relax, trying to stand would be like a newborn deer. I'd stretch them out until I regained complete feeling.

After, I'd limp back to my home and curl up, praying another attack would be at least a few days away.

Today was different.

I felt a presence as a few last lines left my lips and I finally felt the sun on my skin.

My body froze and I remained still. Not long after the footsteps began to retreat. Taking this opportunity, I spring to my feet, only wobbling a bit, and I circle around to the location of the steps. 

I identify the skinny man, his silhouetted face hidden by the cloak. He was staring back at where I was, though the brush now blocked his gaze. As he stared, I stood in front of him with my baton raised. My muscles throbbed with overuse, it was way too soon to be wielding anything. 

I knew I wasn't at my best, but I needed to know what he'd seen. 

My voice comes out unwillingly husky.

"Who are you."

The man finds himself nose to nose with my baton, the metal only a centimeter or two from making contact. The man looks down and ignores me. Anger ripples through my bones. I slide the metal up his nose and press it to his forehead. Frustratingly enough for me, his face was still hidden by the fleeing sun and cloak. I made sure not to press too hard, but to get my point across. My next words are caught in my throat as the man swings around and starts running further into the woods, nearing where I had awoken.

It quite honestly caught me off guard. I stood still for a moment before following with ease. He reached near the center of the rubble before I finally decided to halt him with the metal stick held in front of his feet.

"Who are you? What are you doing here." I spit out quickly.

I expected the man to remain face down as he tumbled to the ground, but he didn't. Flinging himself around, I realized he wasn't a man at all.

The girl staring back at me with flames in her eyes caught me utterly off guard. Her hair tied messily at the back of her head and dirty front and blackened hands. I noticed tears shining on her face, but she did not appear afraid. 

I could smell it though. 

She scanned me, and I scanned her. I now knew why the clothes did not fit. they weren't fashioned for a woman. How I hadn't realized it before amazed me, but I was barely there only a few minutes prior to this moment. 

A silence endured for what felt like eternity, I hadn't even realized that I still held my baton near her face. I began to open my mouth to speak, to apologize profusely and help her up. 

Like bullets out of a gun, her eyes narrow and she spits out a sentence that left me utterly confused and terribly fearful.

"You can do whatever you want to me, but I will not let you win."

Terror floods through my veins and my grip on my baton weakens. I squint my eyes and they widen in realization.

I had hurt her, hadn't I? 

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It's crazy that I've already written nine chapters... its fifty pages long. I absolutely adore this story, but I will be taking a small break on updating to work on The Bracelet and (maybe) finish it. Maybe give some people a chance to find Dusk and for me to slow down a bit. (I'm pretty busy with work and school work, so bear with me) Anyways, I'll see you soon and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!

- chatattack <3