For 180 seconds...oh shit look at the time

Moath · May 31, 2019, 08:34 AM

There was nowhere left to go, nowhere left to run. Panic crept up my throat as I ran into yet another dead end, and realized he had led me here. Turning around, I found him...

Moath could smell him on the very first moment he had entered into Home.

Him- his memory brought back to life, a shell with a heart within...
Malcanthet. His other Face he could remember from the barest of weanling days to the crest of Leave time. His replica, but on a much more smaller, and different scale. Smaller not so much by size, but by comparison of who he was to Moath. Yet Malcanthet was massive, as well. He was only so in desire, in existence and mindframe- boasting a brain that could accurately think for itself, a personality that was expressive and expensive, something that could tax the body without so much as a whim of pressure.
Moath was far from such existence. He was devoid of personality, a wanding black hole that only pulled himself closer to Foods before killing them and dragging them back to Home. Eating them or dropping them off to Nyx and Damien's denstep, or even gifting his Foods to Mother, should he feel that mindless urge to do it. But in all, all of it was mindless, a cog upon cog that fit into his machinery of being. He was a walking testimony to the reality of monsters, a boogeyman who would find you, haunt you, and snatch you up when your back was turned.
Who knew what was left?

But he could see his brother- his urge only came to rear crown when someone was clearly not of their bloodline. His brother, being a near exact replica of him besides size and poise, was free from danger. But as any mastered serial iller, Moath found him quite easily, and thus stood adjacent from the refined dark mirror. A nightmare to an incubus.

And in silence, he waited.