Chapter 04

Cyrus sighed in defeat.

Deciding sleep wasn't coming back to him after his awful dream, the upset boy got up from his wooden bed with old mattress and stale brown pillows. Cyrus moved in the night, feet hitting the cold cement floor as he let his dull sheets fall to the ground, they never really provided much warmth but it was better than having nothing at all.

Lazily making his way across the dim room Cyrus pulled on his long scarf, lopping it around his neck and slips on his tattered jacket from the edge of the chair by his crooked table. Cyrus didn't have difficulty finding his keys in the darkness as his eyesight is used to it, he walked to the only window in there square shaped and just small enough.

It was still dark outside, as his beady irises peeked past the tiniest cracks of his blocked up windowsill. Cyrus saw the back porch lights of the decaying orphanage house were still out. This meant it was still maybe around 3 to 4 in the morning, and he assumed that his shocking scream hadn't woken up anybody, given how far away he was to them. At least that's what the boy wanted, because it would definitely send Denise frantically rushing out to the stoned shed at this ungodly hour.

Everyone's still asleep, that's good.

Cyrus exhaled out, the air making his hot breath visible when he puffed it for himself to see. After minutes of carefully making sure there weren't any wondering kids who disobeyed the curfew rule, Cyrus swiftly grabbed his shoes underneath the bed, putting them on and went to the heavily locked door.

I just need fresh air, then I'll go back.

He told himself glaring at the handle.

With shaky hands, he fumbled the keys Cyrus wore onto himself that Denise had assigned to the boy. He couldn't bring himself to share a room with the other kids in the orphanage and Cyrus insisted this was the best for everybody. It saves the people surrounding Cyrus that he is designed to stay a reasonable distance from the world, because he isn't like the rest of the children here.

Cyrus wasn't normal. This, he knew as much and preferred to be an outcast.

The final click of the last padlock had the boy frown, he didn't like stepping outside but even Cyrus got feed up of being there. Remaining in the same place as the supplies for janitors and the few donated sports materials the orphanage received. The weather isn't too different when he left his homely territory, Cyrus liked to call the worn out shed that, he's positive it survived the great world wars. It might have been a bunker at some point in time.

His shoes made slushy noises going through the backyard of the building, it must've rained badly hence the lot covered in puddles and soil turned to mud as Cyrus came into the makeshift half basketball court. He spotted the dirty ball on the ground and picked it up, starting at the object with empty expressionless eyes; he was thinking.

Did i deserve any of this?

Cyrus bounced the ball and began to run and shoot it to the hoop knowing he won't get to do this during the day, it was always nice to exercise his body to make his gloomy thoughts focus on something else than those memories.

If he over thinks his situation, Cyrus may collapse from his emotional hurt.

And so he exerted himself to the limit, until Cyrus's legs slightly wobbled and his breathing broke up to grunts. Not because he had poor stamina, oh no, it had nothing to do with that. Cyrus ain't the tallest teenager there is yet he stood on average height, closest to being tall. Though to smaller kids he was huge, and his slender shape looked healthy for somebody who doesn't go outside.

Well, that's what the little ones think.

Nobody should have lasted at his age in the system, the ones who do don't have much of a choice than to manage their lives out. Because who the hell in this lifetime wanted a troublemaker for a son? Who would want someone like Cyrus into their homes with open arms?

Who would want a fucking demon?

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"Mrs. Harrison?" A gentle woman's voice called from the office door, her head popping to scan the waiting area.

Today was adoption day for the Hope Orphanage Foundation and Denise was busy with scheduled interviews for their children, it was a hectic job though she never found herself tired of assisting these unfortunate kids a new home. She was proudly done with the majority of everyone's meet and interview process that day getting the lucky children's paperwork in file.

Expect one last appointment. Sadly it wasn't for adoption, but an assessment.

"Yup, that would be me."

A stunning brunette beauty stood up from the yellowish waiting chairs, in all honesty, they looked ready to give out due to her weight. She wasn't fat, quite the opposite of it. Mrs. Harrison pegged people who dared glanced her direction to be mistaken as a fashion runway model or perhaps a fitness instructor and even an actress; an eye catcher.

But she was none of that. "Please, feel free to call me Amy." She flashed her wide smile at Denise, which made her dark complexion go seemingly scarlet.

"Mrs. Harrison is already used way too repeatedly at my own institution, ehe."

"I-I see..." Denise choked out, wanting to smack herself for stuttering at this time. She cleared her throat. "Alright Amy, if you would follow me this way inside."

They strolled the establishment and Amy had seen some children run here and there, others playing about with kids of assorted age range their room door ajar. This building begged for repairs Amy observed, it was nearing it's condition of demolition but still stubbornly holding onto itself, as if the old structure itself knew it was housing these misplaced children. It held hope.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't even do this at the regular meeting room...you see, this boy isn't comfortable leaving his place." Denise explained the pity in her tone all the more evident to Amy.

"Place? Don't you mean room?" Amy inquiries, Denise shakes her head said.

"He doesn't even want to sleep in the same room as the others, I really tried to convince him but he just refused to talk after. Though he did accepted my help to make his space more livable."

Now it made sense why Denise passed the wide staircase that Amy was sure held a lot more orphans up there. She also had a feeling this peculiar young boy, wasn't going to be some lil angel.

Not when Amy heard what he did.

"Does he go off starting fights?"

"Regarding that..."

Denise abruptly halted and looked down sighing, she pinched this folder that had been in her arms. Handing it to Amy, she continued. "Cyrus doesn't pick fights for no reason, but...he um, doesn't know when to stop himself if he gets into one...i-it's like his possessed."

"Possession? Are you superstitious?"

Denise turned, her glasses jiggling to the motion of her head shaking about. "Oh no, I didn't mean to word it that way. I'm sure with proper help Cyrus is a good kid. He's just...been through so much, it's not exactly great that he despises talking about his past either."

Amy smiled, understanding. "Would that explain why Cyrus bit off another boy's ear clean at his old high school?"

Denise grimace, recalling how furious the boys parents were when she went to the principals office. It wasn't easy negotiating with them to not press charges and paying for the surgery too.

"Perhaps."

The two women emerged onto the orphanages backyard, Denise waved at the kids innocently playing there. She eventually lead them further off the buildings backyard approaching to the woods, that's when Amy knew.

Something felt wrong.

Her defensive instincts surged high to overdrive smelling the strong aroma, leaking right from the shabby stone made shed. Denise however didn't see any of this behaviour as she carefully and cautiously knocked on the darken door, Amy secretly cupped her nose.

She softly spoke. "Cyrus dear, it's me, Denise. the institution's head is here to talk with you. I already told you about them yesterday, you remember right?"

They both stood back and waited.

Amy's alert senses saw this shadow in the only window there, it was tricky to see since it was boarded with lots of planks. She then heard cranking and locks snapping free as the door finally creeks, Amy had her guard on as Denise inhaled and slowly trekked inside.

"Hi Cyrus...is okay if we use the table? Our guest really wants to get to know you." The boy simply nodded as he took his own seat across the table; expectant. Amy's wolf noticed the patches of grey that didn't match the sheds faded blue paint, and the cement materials that were laying at the ground. Amy had deducted that Cyrus here probably punched in the solid walls, and those black stains were likely dried blood, this made Amy debate of her decision.

Because of his haunting scent.

Cyrus smelled of death.

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Author's Note :

Yey! We finally met Cyrus! What's your initial thoughts on him? Yeah he's kinda intense I'll admit but the ending really got me pump to have our dominant Al encounter Cyrus already, it's gonna be something that I know.

And for the sake of others I toned down the gore for this chapter, I also like Denise so much, who's your favourite character currently? Don't worry there's more to come!

Smash the ☆