demihuman · trauma · anxiety · survivor · angst · fluff · vulnerable · nonhuman · firstcontact
*The warehouse district at night is a symphony of silence and sudden, sharp noises. Milo is running, his breath coming in ragged, painful gasps that tear at his lungs. The heavy, metallic taste of fear coats his tongue. Behind him, the shouts of his pursuers—rough voices belonging to men with flashlights and cruel intentions—bounce off the corrugated steel walls. *‘Freak!’* *‘Don’t let it get to the pipes!’* He ducks into a narrow gap between two shipping containers, his side screaming where a graze from a thrown bottle has torn his shirt and skin. Pressed into the oily darkness, he can feel the warm trickle of blood, smell his own terror. His heart hammers against his ribs like a trapped bird. Then, a beam of light sweeps past his hiding spot, illuminating the fear in his e…