Characters: Fenrir, Open
Date/Time: December 24, morning
Location: Stairway landing between the third and fourth floors
Rating: PG-13?
Warnings: Creepy-ish imagery, memories of violence
Summary: Freddy is starting to remember
(
'He'd been thinking of himself as Fenrir. That wasn't even a name.' )
Comments 8
There was only one other entity within the building who could've possibly known what he was going through. That once, he'd had four legs. Sharp teeth, an elongated snout. But unlike Fenrir, the person -- if they were really a person -- coming down the steps from the fourth floor knew little of cages, and more of gates, of rivers and ferries and duty.
Kerberos stopped five steps down the flight, pausing to scan the crumpled figure. He'd abandoned his post at Hades' side, understanding that scoping the place out was the duty of a guard dog -- to make sure he knew every corner in the event that danger arose. And if it did, there was no doubt he'd be there faster than should've been possible.
His inhuman ability to pick up scents from far away hadn't diminished during his short time here. If anything, it'd intensified. He'd picked up Fenrir's scent, familiar in a way he couldn't explain, and with the curiosity of the cats he so loathed, the former beast sank down into a crouch. To observe.
To prey.
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There. A dog, only it wasn't a dog. It was shaped like a man, moved like a man, but the scent was unmistakeable. Slowly, keeping his back to the wall, Fenrir rose out of his fetal position into a crouch, his lips pulling back to show teeth.
"You," he growled out. "Who are you?"
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A few moments of silence ticked by as Kerberos kept his distance, eyes still on the other. He stood his ground, making sure to maintain eye contact, which spelled out one thing only -- this was a challenge. Whoever was the first to break it was the weaker one. The one less capable; it was a battle for dominance.
"You know what I am," the hellhound eventually returned, keeping so very still on the step. "Does it matter who?" He didn't think it did. A dog was a dog. But this one wasn't a normal dog -- he smelled differently. More feral.
Wild.
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"You look like a man," Fenrir (Freddy, something in his mind protested. His name was Freddy, damn it) said, teeth still bared. "But you're a dog if I've ever seen one. How?"
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