Chapter 83: Ren Looking for Kestrel
Kestrel heard the harsh, piercing cry but other than a brief flutter of her eyes, her body remained unmoving. Her tendrils casually shifted, enveloping her more snugly until only her eyes were visible.
"Help me, please save me!" The alpha pleaded with her, sobbing, "I know you’re human, save me, let your psychic incarnation save me."
"This place is horrid, these monsters, you can’t imagine what they’ve done to me!"
Tears and mucus streamed down his face, his words were blurred and his pleas piercing.
Kestrel’s eyes shifted slightly but she remained still, merely gazing into his eyes—eyes brimming with such intense negative feelings that fear, pain, and hatred seemed to physically pour from them. He was on the edge of breaking down.
But Kestrel couldn’t save him, at least not right now.
The bulky pig man paused, his thick snout twitching, but he didn’t spot Kestrel standing not far away.
He yanked on the iron chain, dragging the man forward. The man was being pulled further away, his face twisted in realization that Kestrel wouldn’t come to his aid. Suddenly, he jerked the chain and pointed at Kestrel’s spot, yelling, "Over there, there’s someone over there."
He pointed at Kestrel, screaming as loud as he could, as if capturing Kestrel too would give him relief.
"There’s someone over there, can’t you see? She’s right there!"
The pig man slowly turned his head, tilting his ear, listening several times before finally grasping what the captive was saying.
Kestrel had started retreating when the alpha began shouting, but the pig man was too swift. His speed belied his bulky figure. Almost the moment he understood the man’s cries, his foul-smelling snout and tusks were right in front of Kestrel.
Kestrel moved towards an open window. As the pig man lunged at her, she fell backwards, her tendrils aiding her to flip into the shadowy window.
As she tumbled into the room, a sharp blade, followed by a heavy swishing sound, flashed before Kestrel.
A surge of pain echoed in Kestrel’s mind as a tendril intercepted the knife for her, the soft limb sliced in half by the sharp weapon.
The pain radiated to her brainstem, as if a hand had delved into her brain, harshly yanking out a nerve. The pain caused her body to jerk slightly.
But Kestrel’s face was empty—her body trembled in pain, her pale face was as unemotional as if it were a plastic mask.
With that impassive face, she rolled into a corner of a sideboard in the living room.
She hunched in the shadows beside the cabinet, her eyes hollow. A cluster of tendrils rose up, quickly shielding her.
The room’s wooden door was blasted open with a loud crash, wood splinters flying everywhere. The bulky pig man appeared at the door, holding a bloody knife.
On the street, the alpha with a collar around his neck was still sprawled on the ground screaming. Kestrel, concealed in the shadows, lowered her eyelashes, and then a tendril emerged from the ground on the street, burrowing into the alpha’s brain.
In an instant, the man’s eyes bulged, his expression vacant, unable to articulate anymore.
Kestrel had acted, driving him into complete madness.
A pig-like beast grumbled heavily, walking across the messy floor in a dimly lit living room. Each step caused the house to shake.
The creature, its bristles standing on end, clutched a bloody butcher knife in its drooling mouth. It seemed unaware of Kestrel, unable to pinpoint the human who had quickly darted in through the window, and in its rage, it started slashing wildly around.
The blade was thick and razor-sharp. It wasn’t clear what it had sliced before, but it was smeared with thick, black blood. Countless furniture pieces in the house were smashed to bits under the heavy blade.
Several times, the passing blade’s wind and flying splinters grazed Kestrel’s tendrils, even leaving a few scrapes on her face, but she stayed still, curled up in a corner.
The pain she experienced came from the injuries inflicted on her psychic incarnation.
The pain stimulated Kestrel’s nerves, but it was insignificant, merely serving to heighten her focus.
After a long rampage in the dark room, the pig-headed beast finally left.
Soon after, high-pitched screams erupted outside the house. The sounds, combined with snorting pig-like noises and the sound of gnawing, shattered the hauntingly silent space.
Kestrel sat curled up in the darkness, listening to the painful sounds as long as they lasted.
The darkness, amid such horrifying noises, seemed even denser.
Kestrel sat alone in a world of strange silence and darkness.
As a child, during the fire, Kestrel’s father, a beta, had blocked her pain perception, sensory perception, and all emotions.
After her father died, the psychic block was long gone, but Kestrel seemed to be forever stuck in that cold winter. She didn’t understand fear, didn’t dread pain, and wasn’t afraid of this kind of darkness.
However, she occasionally felt a bit worried - the worry that if she stayed in such emotional void for too long, her human emotions would continually be worn down, and she would eventually felt that this dark, absurd world might be her ultimate destiny.
Kestrel sat in the small corner for a long time, until the noise outside the house gradually faded away.
In the darkness, she felt her broken tendril. The soft tendril had lost a part of it, it was no longer flexible at its tip. The broken tendril revealed itself, curling into Kestrel’s embrace, showing her the severed end.
Kestrel caressed it for a while, but found it to be pointless, because it was tough for one to console their own psychic incarnation.
Many of her tendrils were damaged, had scratches, were not as smooth and shiny, and squirmed at her feet.
Suddenly, Kestrel craved something sweet. A piece of candy, or any kind of sweet snack, but there was nothing nearby.
She remembered Ren, who would find candies for her, her orca plushie, and the sweet candy toy she had eaten. Thinking about these things made her feel slightly better. She dusted herself off and stood up.
A little blood trickled down her face, reaching the corner of her mouth. Kestrel licked it, tasting only the metallic flavor of blood. She realized there were no sweets here, nor was there anyone who would find them for her.
Touching the patchy wallpaper, she slowly walked through the dark, deserted living room. Kestrel opened the door and walked down the street. The road was hazardous, the occasional monster forcing her to stop and change directions. She even saw a gigantic mushroom, with white spores floating around it in a plantation. A pale human body lay in the soil at the base of the mushroom.
When numerous large and small spores came drifting along, Kestrel turned and ran.
