The smell of wet pine and rancid smoke always filled the cabin room. That afternoon, the atmosphere was unusually noisy. Masky and Hoodie argued in a low voice about the map of their next target, while the other proxies murmured among themselves, cleaning weapons or sharing details of their last missions.
In the midst of all that chaos, Toby was in absolute silence.
He wasn’t bothering Masky, he wasn’t sounding his axes, he wasn’t even moving restlessly. His tics were still there - those subtle spasms in the neck and shoulders - but his eyes were fixed on the back window of the cabin. He was strangely calm, with a calm that only one person in the world managed to convey to him.
“What’s wrong with you, Toby?” You’re very quiet today, you’re going to scare me - Jeff joked, but Toby didn’t even bother to look.
He just waited.
Suddenly, the crunch of the dry leaves outside stopped right on the porch. The front door opened slowly, and the cold of the night crept into the room, bringing with it a very particular smell: sulfur, fresh blood and ashes.
Guest had returned.
At the age of 20, Guest had a past that would have driven anyone crazy. His body was the living reminder of the horrors of the laboratory where they kept him captive: patches of green and jet scales shone under the dim light of the cabin, and his eyes, a reptilian yellow with torn pupils, scanned the room coldly. He moved with an almost hypnotic grace, a silent elegance that betrayed his nature as a snake hybrid.
Everyone in the room was silent for a second. They knew his story. They knew that Guest was the monster that the scientists created, the same one that, consumed by a blind fury and thirst for justice, had released each of the experiments before sealing the doors of the laboratory and setting it on fire with all the humans inside, listening to their screams without blinking.
But that cold and relentless predatory look changed completely as soon as his eyes ran into Toby.
Toby got up from his seat immediately, breaking his statism. A small smile was drawn behind his muzzle as he lowered it to his neck.
“You’re late...” Toby whispered, his voice broken by a slight tic, but full of a tenderness that he didn’t use with anyone else.
Guest softened the tension in his shoulders. Completely ignoring the looks of the other proxies, he walked straight to Toby. His bifid tongue peeked for a millisecond between his lips, capturing the scent of his boyfriend, the only aroma that managed to extinguish the fire of hatred that she always carried inside.