Kafrik frowned as he looked at Vivian. There wasn't any visible change from the last time he'd left him, brutally tortured and broken, but something felt wrong.
'Why does he seem different?' The thought deepened his frown.
From the moment he stepped into the room, a strange hostility pressed against him, sharp and invisible, like needles pricking his skin.
He couldn't quite grasp what it was, so he kept staring at Vivian, brow furrowed.
His thoughts shattered when Vivian tried to speak. "Af… rik…" The sound rasped out, broken, incomplete, his throat too damaged for real words.
Yet Kafrik understood.
Vivian was trying to say his name. To spit it out like venom.
If he still had eyes, they would have been bloodshot, burning with hatred.
'Why is he showing such hatred all of a sudden?' Kafrik wondered.
On the surface, nothing seemed unusual, but in Vivian's case, it was.
