Daemon.

I collapsed into some sort of abyss where I could hear Diana’s voice. She summoned me. I was looking around, following her voice, but as soon as I started running, her voice came from the opposite direction, and I was rushing back.

The beast inside did not move. It was breathing heavily. Our bond was deteriorating and vanishing. Something was tearing it apart, causing tremendous anguish.

And just as I was about to accept my fate, the wolf lifted its face and sniffed. It moved, wandering into the darkness, barely repositioning its weary limbs before returning with something light in its maw. That object was flapping in the wind.

I sensed the odour that had become my obsession. The beast lay down, crushing the source of the scent beneath itself, and then it froze again, burying its muzzle into it.

A sense of bitterness was inside. The wolf seemed distracted, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. It’ll crave more. It desires more than simply the smell.

The morning found me crumpled and devastated. I didn’t know where I was or what I was pressing so tightly to my nose, but its aroma made me growl with delight. I wiped something soft away from my face, astonished to see it was a scarf. I sniffled again.

It was Diana’s scent! I tucked my nose back in the scarf and groaned.

Seymour rushed into the room as he heard the sounds of my awakening. He paused at the bed. Ragnar followed him at a leisurely pace.

“You scared us, boy,” he said, shaking his head and smiling slightly.

I closed my eyes, intending to inhale more odour. It was comforting to me.

“Is that normal?” Seymour questioned Ragnar, pointing his finger at me.

“You grow fangs and claws and are embarrassed that the guy smells a scarf?” the mentor remarked rhetorically.

“Alrighty... So, what are we gonna do?” my buddy wondered.

“First, we’ll have a discussion. You are welcome to breakfast,” Ragnar stated as he left the room.

“Can you move?” Seymour asked in a compassionate tone.

“I can handle it,” I muttered into the scarf.

“I brought your stuff. Change your clothes; it’s gonna be a long dialogue.”

I nodded.

“Where did you get the scarf from?”

“Don’t question it,” he said, waving his hand and leaving the room.

Each move was hurting, but I forced myself to get up. I could hardly force myself to leave the scarf on the bed. After the shower, I made my way to the huge kitchen, sniffing the scarf as I walked. I hid the scarf in my pocket before appearing to my friends to avoid embarrassing them.

I had no appetite, but I forced myself to eat a sandwich while Ragnar and Seymour were discussing business.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I was fidgeting with the scarf in my pocket, preparing for the nearing conversation.

“So...” Ragnar started. “What have you done to her?”

It was the time when I had to admit everything. Looking out the window, I began my story, omitting only the details that are inappropriate in a decent society.

When I first saw Diana, I was so impressed that I had been seeking her attention for six months. I persuaded her to come together and build our future together.

We were happy for an entire year. Although our life was enjoyable, I eventually became bored. I am not sure what I was thinking of when I started noticing other girls. Especially Alexandra.

I met Alexandra by accident. There was something unique about her. We exchanged phone numbers, started corresponding, and soon began flirting.

I was late getting home and made excuses to meet Alexandra for coffee. Diana took the back seat.

One evening, when I got home, I noticed a bouquet in a vase. When I asked where the flowers originated from, Diana explained that she was presented at work. When I asked in a funny tone why flowers had been presented at work for no reason, she calmly remarked that she thought she deserved them for her birthday.

I settled down. I then apologized and justified my forgetfulness as being quite busy at work.

Diana attempted to reach out to me and figure out what was going on, but her efforts frustrated me. Every time she offered to spend time together or trip somewhere for the weekend, I refused and continued lurking and messaging Alexandra.

Alexandra was the first to admit her feelings for me, and for some reason, I confessed to her in return. New emotions swamped me. I didn’t consider what I was doing.

I was totally satisfied that Diana was washing, cooking, and cleaning without troubling me. She stopped asking questions and continued to snuggle up to me at nights. On weekends, she would advise me to go out with friends and distract myself from work. On a day off, instead of hanging out with friends, I spent time with Alexandra, which Diana herself had almost encouraged me to do. I realized I was dangerously close to cheating on Diana physically. Alexandra herself kept hinting at it, but I was hesitant.

One night, as Diana was sleeping on my shoulder, I grasped her and called her a different name. I named her Alexandra.

I awoke, horrified by what I had done, and sought to find out if Diana had heard it. I shook Diana’s shoulder, but she was asleep. I dodged a bullet...

The next evening, on my way home, I texted Alexandra. This time, I intended to spend the entire day off with her and stay with her overnight. I’ve even considered convincing Diana that my friends had invited me to a meeting. I returned home in a wonderful mood.

Diana was sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee, and staring at the wall. I made myself a cup of coffee as well and settled down opposite her.

“We should talk,” she declared, continuing to gaze at the wall.

“What about?” ’I began to feel annoyed again.

“About Alexandra,” Diana stated, shifting her focus to me.

I froze. So, she heard me tonight. I decided to have my back by acting foolishly.

“What Alexandra?” I smiled strenuously.

“Savelyeva” Diana stared me in the eyes.

How did she learn her last name? I was speechless. Diana opened the laptop and turned the monitor at me.

My correspondence with Alexandra appeared on the screen in black and white. I drew the cursor at the start of the conversation and discovered Diana knew everything. Absolutely everything.

“Don’t bother yourself by going to her house,” she remarked, standing up from the table. “Invite her over. I will leave you two alone.”

Diana left the kitchen.

I’m not sure how many hours I’ve spent at the table. I wanted to vanish.

Diana shut herself in the living room. I did not sleep that night, but I couldn’t bring myself to bother her.

In the morning, I was preparing to work in automatic mode, thinking only about explaining myself to Diana. I have no idea how I worked that day. I rushed to my phone every time I heard a notification, hoping it was from Diana. I ignored Alexandra’s texts. I don’t know how I even got back home. It was frightening to enter the apartment

I nervously opened the front door and walked inside. It was quiet. No music, no bustle in the kitchen, and no dancing at the stove. The house was dead.

I stepped in through the front door, hesitantly opening it. It was quiet. No music, no bustle in the kitchen, and no dancing at the stove. The house was dead.

I felt horrible. I swooped around the apartment. Diana wasn’t there. I ran to her closet and opened the doors. All of the clothing was in place. So she did not leave.

It seemed her clothes would vanish at any moment, just as if Diana had never existed in my life. I slammed the doors shut and rested my head against the closet.

“What’s the hell are you gonna do now, Casanova?” I asked myself.

I was terrified at the mere thought of Diana leaving.

Alexandra kept texting and calling me without pause. It was a day off tomorrow, and she wanted to know when I was coming. I chose to send Alexandra a message in which I finally admitted that I had a girlfriend and that engaging with her was a mistake. Alexandra reacted with a brief text, expressing sad sympathy for my girlfriend and wishing me relationship success.

Yeah... It felt miserable. Alexandra felt sorry for Diana, and I, in turn, was just concerned with my pleasure, never considering the feelings of my deceived girlfriend.

I have been beside myself with worry. It was almost 11 p.m., and Diana hadn’t come back. I waited and, at last, texted her shortly after midnight. Messages did not reach their intended recipient. I started calling her. Her phone was off. I gave myself a free rein to panic.

I tried to convince myself that she couldn’t go away and leave all her belongings behind. I couldn’t sleep. I was unaffected by the prior night’s lack of sleep. I went out into the yard, circled the building, and returned home. I’m not sure how many loops I walked around the yard that night. As a result, I sat in the corridor, flinching every time someone opened the metal entrance door.