soul

dinner time. Mabus descended the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the sleek, silver-lined hallway. The walls seemed to whisper secrets, their subtle glow illuminating the path ahead. Behind him, Devoum followed with an air of invincibility, his presence as reassuring as a shield.

A while ago, the two had hatched a plan to uncover the truth about the mysterious monster lurking in the house. Devoum, however, had been tight-lipped about the details, leaving Mabus to wonder if he was hiding something.

Arriving downstairs, Mabus found his father and stepmother, Lusinta, seated in the living room. She was reclining on a plush, gel-cushioned chair, looking like an alluring siren. He sighed, eager to get to the bottom of things so that Lusinta could leave his house without causing any more stress. Finally, he took his seat in the dining area, where the table seemed to shimmer like a mirage, its surface adorned with intricate patterns that shifted and glowed like the aurora borealis.

As the saccharine sweetness of Lusinta's voice echoed through the room, "Mabus, won't you greet your mommy?", Mabus's instincts recoiled like a threatened feline, his eyes widening in a flash of terror. The memory of her voice, uttering those exact words just before unleashing a torrent of torment, still seared his mind like a branding iron. HELL NO! He wouldn't go down that road again!

With a Herculean effort, Mabus forced out a greeting, his voice a barely audible whisper, "Um, hi, mom." His face contorted into a smile, a grotesque parody of warmth, as fake as the dazzling grin of a Hollywood starlet. But Mabus's attempt at a smile was far worse, a ghastly grimace that seemed to scream, "I'm hiding something, and it's eating me alive!"

His father's voice, soft and gentle, cut through the tension like a scalpel, "Mabus, I hope you're finding son..." The words trailed off, leaving Mabus wondering what secrets his father was desperate to reveal. His father's eyes, filled with a deep longing, seemed to hold a thousand unspoken words, a deep yearning to unburden himself of a weighty secret.

Mabus's response, a hollow echo of reassurance, "Yes, dad, I'm fine," hung in the air like a challenge, a gauntlet thrown down, daring his father to reveal the truth.

Just as the silence was becoming unbearable, Devoum, invisible and unseen, took a seat in the empty chair beside Mabus. His presence was felt, a subtle shift in the air, a whispered promise of secrets yet to be revealed. And then, his voice, low and mysterious, spoke, "He was about to say something to you, but he stopped himself."

***************

Mabus's eyelids fluttered shut, a fleeting veil of ignorance, he feigned deafness to Devoum's words, his eardrums deliberately numb to the sarcastic snarl. The threat of being labeled mad hung like a Damocles' sword, his father and Lusinta poised to conspire against him, their accusations a hair's breadth away. Devoum's eyes, narrowed to slits, seemed to pierce the very soul, his voice a low, menacing growl, "Idiot, you can talk to me in your mind!" Mabus's shoulders shrugged, a listless gesture, a feeble attempt to dismiss the unwanted conversation. His eyes, averted, refused to meet Devoum's piercing stare, his mind racing for an escape from the uncomfortable confrontation.

Devoum, however, remained unfazed, his attention focused on the task at hand. With a graceful, almost ethereal motion, he raised his hand, and a vibrant purple force erupted from his fingertips. The air seemed to vibrate with an otherworldly energy as he began to examine the intricate patterns woven into the very fabric of Lusinta's soul. The thread, a shimmering, iridescent filament, seemed to pulse with a life of its own, as if the essence of her being had been distilled into this delicate, gossamer strand. Devoum's fingers traced the thread's undulations, his eyes scanning the intricate patterns with a neutral, almost clinical detachment, as if diagnosing a patient's malady.

"I will just ignore you for now," Devoum said, his voice devoid of emotion, "but first, let me check your mom's soul thread to see if she has any monsters." Mabus's face contorted in revulsion, his eyes wide with horror, as if witnessing a sacrilegious act. "She's not my mom!" he hissed, the words escaping his lips like a venomous dart, his voice barely audible, as if the very utterance was a betrayal. His body seemed to shrink, his shoulders curling inward like a wounded animal, his eyes flashing with a mixture of fear and loathing. He crawled backward, his movements slow and labored, as if attempting to escape the reality of the situation.

Devoum, impervious to Mabus's outburst, continued his examination, his eyes scanning the thread with an intensity that bordered on obsession. His fingers moved with a precision that belied his neutral expression, as if unraveling the mysteries of Lusinta's soul was a mere formality. The air was heavy with tension, the silence between them a palpable force that seemed to crackle with unspoken secrets and unmet challenges, as if the very fabric of reality was being probed and tested. As Devoum's examination continued, the thread began to glow with a soft, ethereal light, as if the very essence of Lusinta's soul was being revealed. Mabus's eyes, secretly fixed on the spectacle, seemed to widen in terror, his face pale and drained of color. His body, rigid and unyielding, seemed to be frozen in place, as if paralyzed by the horror of the situation. Devoum, however, remained unfazed, his eyes fixed on the thread, his fingers moving with a precision that seemed almost surgical.