Deianeira

Chapter 3

After a while, Chamal finally arrived at the lawn of his property. He was facing a heavy sigh every time he thought about past events. His eyes still welled with tears and his nose ran excessively. His eyes shifted between his fabric trainers and the fawn brown grass around.

Eventually, he had made it to the doorstep. His toes colliding with it making him jolt forward: his head made impact with the soot black door. Furiously, he flung open the door leaving a dent in the wall. He flounced in to the living room before he sulked into the velvet, marine-blue wingback chair. He folded his arms as he ground his teeth. Crossing his legs before his head fell into his palms.

Suddenly, the chair was pulled backwards just enough for Chamal to notice. In a flash, he was on his feet staring wide-eyed at the inanimate object. Slowly, he reached for a vase which rested next to the chair. No doubt slipped through his mind as his attempt to be without his demon constructed. The slightest creak was followed by the shattering of Chama's projectile and the sound of frantic hands trying to reach to the gravity's next victim.

Once he ran out of ammunition, the only sound heard was the frenetic breaths deriving from Chamal. Minutes passed as he stared with his mouth gaped at the pieces of ceramic laying under the foot of the furniture. Hesitantly, he moved the chair only to find a hoary mouse motionless upon the floor. His mind was mocking his fear. The greatest fear he had ever had. He had lost all other thoughts at that point. He had lost hope. He had lost freedom. Only Deianeira filled his mind. The piles of ash. The cat-like eyes. The needle-sharp claws. She had possessed his thoughts and twisted his sanity.

Anxiety had conquered him...