Chapter 2:
The Cage.
My BEAUTIFUL DOOM'S DAY
Chapter 2: The Cage
The black hole dropped me from a height of one foot. Onto hard ground.
It could have dropped me on something soft. It could have not dropped me at all. It's a black hole. It's supposed to be cool.
But no. Even black holes have hearts — and they're as black as their name.
I stood, brushed off the dirt, and took in the trees.
A forest. Dark. Endless. The branches leaned close like grasping fingers. I couldn't see the sky.
I hope I don't die before destroying this world.
The thought felt cold. Wrong.
---
I walked. The forest pressed in. Every shadow seemed to breathe. Every snapped twig echoed like a gunshot.
Then a growl. Low. Close.
I stopped breathing.
Golden eyes. Gleaming from the dark. Hungry.
My throat closed. I couldn't run. Couldn't scream. Only a whisper came out — a name I hadn't said in years.
"Mummy..."
---
The wolf's eyes flickered, and for a second, I was seven again — pinned to my bed by a shadow.
"You're taking this quite well," a voice whispered. My own voice, but hollow.
No. I'm not. I'm terrified.
But the memory was already surfacing, cold and sharp.
---
Flashback – Age Seven
A weight on my chest. I couldn't move. Couldn't call for help. The darkness pressed into my lungs.
You're mine now.
Three days of silence. My parents' faces pale. A priest with burning sage — the smoke bitter, stinging my eyes. The shadow left, but the cold stayed.
I never told anyone what it whispered. I never forgot the feeling of something inside me, watching.
The same cold panic freeze. I couldn't move or do anything but watch as it took control.
This panda feels the same.
---
The forest spun. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. Then the wolf's breath hit my face.
He was still there, waiting. His fur matted. His eyes tired, ringed with dark circles. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.
He stepped closer. Sniffed me. His breath was warm and smelled of iron.
"You smell... wrong," he said. His voice was flat, worn, like gravel grinding together.
Then he frowned. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head.
"Who let you out of your cage, human?"
Cage? What cage?
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The word hung in the air, cold and strange. It didn't belong in this forest. It belonged somewhere else. Somewhere worse.
He studied me. Then shook his head.
"You'll be back in a cage soon enough. I can already smell the iron on your skin."
---
He lunged.
Hair. Pain. Dragging. Claw dirt. Nothing.
Rock. Paw. Yelp. Almost free.
Tighter. Run.
Forest floor scraped raw. Tail. Grab. Pull. Punch soft.
Yelp — high, choked — didn't stop.
"Stupid," he growled. "Meat doesn't fight."
Faster. Knuckles bleeding.
Then, under his breath, so low I almost missed it: "My mother used to fight like that." A pause. "It never saved her."
---
He dragged me for what felt like hours. Roots scraped. Back burned.
His jaw tightened around my hair. Breath hot on my ear. One crunch and it would be over.
But he didn't.
"Stop squirming," he said, barely audible. "You're making this harder."
I stopped fighting.
The dark swallowed me like a cage closing. I didn't move. I couldn't.
Just like when I was seven. Just like always.
---
The black hole dropped me from a height of one foot. Onto hard ground.
It could have dropped me on something soft. It could have not dropped me at all. It's a black hole. It's supposed to be cool.
But no. Even black holes have hearts — and they're as black as their name.
I stood, brushed off the dirt, and took in the trees.
A forest. Dark. Endless. The branches leaned close like grasping fingers. I couldn't see the sky.
I hope I don't die before destroying this world.
The thought felt cold. Wrong.
---
I walked. The forest pressed in. Every shadow seemed to breathe. Every snapped twig echoed like a gunshot.
Then a growl. Low. Close.
I stopped breathing.
Golden eyes. Gleaming from the dark. Hungry.
My throat closed. I couldn't run. Couldn't scream. Only a whisper came out — a name I hadn't said in years.
"Mummy..."
---
The wolf's eyes flickered, and for a second, I was seven again — pinned to my bed by a shadow.
"You're taking this quite well," a voice whispered. My own voice, but hollow.
No. I'm not. I'm terrified.
But the memory was already surfacing, cold and sharp.
---
Flashback – Age Seven
A weight on my chest. I couldn't move. Couldn't call for help. The darkness pressed into my lungs.
You're mine now.
Three days of silence. My parents' faces pale. A priest with burning sage — the smoke bitter, stinging my eyes. The shadow left, but the cold stayed.
I never told anyone what it whispered. I never forgot the feeling of something inside me, watching.
The same cold panic freeze. I couldn't move or do anything but watch as it took control.
This panda feels the same.
---
The forest spun. For a moment, I didn't know where I was. Then the wolf's breath hit my face.
He was still there, waiting. His fur matted. His eyes tired, ringed with dark circles. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.
He stepped closer. Sniffed me. His breath was warm and smelled of iron.
"You smell... wrong," he said. His voice was flat, worn, like gravel grinding together.
Then he frowned. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head.
"Who let you out of your cage, human?"
Cage? What cage?
I didn't answer. I couldn't. The word hung in the air, cold and strange. It didn't belong in this forest. It belonged somewhere else. Somewhere worse.
He studied me. Then shook his head.
"You'll be back in a cage soon enough. I can already smell the iron on your skin."
---
He lunged.
Hair. Pain. Dragging. Claw dirt. Nothing.
Rock. Paw. Yelp. Almost free.
Tighter. Run.
Forest floor scraped raw. Tail. Grab. Pull. Punch soft.
Yelp — high, choked — didn't stop.
"Stupid," he growled. "Meat doesn't fight."
Faster. Knuckles bleeding.
Then, under his breath, so low I almost missed it: "My mother used to fight like that." A pause. "It never saved her."
---
He dragged me for what felt like hours. Roots scraped. Back burned.
His jaw tightened around my hair. Breath hot on my ear. One crunch and it would be over.
But he didn't.
"Stop squirming," he said, barely audible. "You're making this harder."
I stopped fighting.
The dark swallowed me like a cage closing. I didn't move. I couldn't.
Just like when I was seven. Just like always.
---
End of chapter 2
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