His voice was trembling so badly it fractured into a dozen different pitches as he swung his bare legs out of bed.
The silence swallowed his voice entirely… offering absolutely no echo.
He slowly pushed himself up.
Klaus was still wearing his slightly oversized high school uniform, the collar unbuttoned as the fabric was wrinkled somehow.
He walked out of his bedroom and stepped into the dark hallway.
The floorboards were freezing cold under his bare feet, the wood groaning loudly under his weight.
It wasn't the familiar settling creak of an old family home… It sounded like the straining of a coffin lid under the weight of wet earth…
The Second King wasn't playing the "happy family" script anymore.
The parasite had realized that the host's resolve was changing.
