The Other Breed

Mike did not believe in love. To him, it was an abstract concept, an illusion that only deepened the emptiness inside him. In a world that thrived on materialism, where every gesture seemed tied to transactions of flesh, fortune, and power, love was a mere luxury a fleeting moment that could make someone vulnerable and, ultimately, foolish. It was a commodity he could not afford, not with the weight of his own burdens pressing on him. It would only make him weak.

He had been a part of this world for too long, entrenched in its decay and luxury, and he had learned that people would only laugh at you if they saw you become too attached. Too emotional. Too human. Love, to Mike, was an invitation for mockery a foolish indulgence that would surely lead to a slow and painful unraveling of one's dignity.

Lying on the plush, velvet-lined sofa, Mike stared up at the ornate crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The light bounced off the myriad facets of the crystals, casting cold, fractured reflections across the room. He felt disconnected from everything around him, the sharp gleams of light like distant stars, unreachable and cold, just like his own heart. His mind drifted, but there was no peace to be found. Instead, he was haunted by an overwhelming sense of dread a gnawing emptiness that he couldn't shake.

The sound of chewing, the sickening noises of people enjoying food with far too much enthusiasm, came to him from somewhere. But it wasn't the physical sound that lingered; it was something deeper something intangible but profoundly disturbing. It made his stomach churn. The acrid stench of rotting flesh crept into his nose, a toxic reminder of everything he tried to bury within him. A cruel metaphor for his life. A searing pain gripped his chest, like a sharp, cold fang piercing through his flesh. He winced, but it wasn't just physical pain. It was deeper. It was the pain of knowing that the fabric of his life everything he had built his identity on was unraveling.

These things weren't supposed to frighten him. No, they weren't supposed to have any power over him. He had faced worse he had seen the worst of people, the most grotesque realities, and survived. But now, in this moment, the darkness inside him felt all-consuming.

He slowly rose from the sofa, as if weighted down by an invisible force. He hugged his knees tightly, curling into a small ball in the corner of the room. The safety he longed for was elusive, just out of reach. His body was trembling, and the once vibrant light in his eyes had dimmed, replaced with hollow emptiness. His skin had lost its usual glow, now pale and ghostly, drained of all color. Ye Mo Ran's gaze drifted aimlessly over the room, but his mind was somewhere else lost in a vortex of thoughts and memories he wished he could forget.

His breath came in shallow gasps as he fought to hold himself together, to keep the pieces from falling apart. The phone on the coffee table, cold and lifeless, seemed to mock him. A faint light blinked from its screen, the only thing in the room that had any semblance of life. A call. Someone was trying to reach him. It was as if the phone were calling out from the abyss, pulling him back from the dark recesses of his mind. But the thought of answering filled him with dread.

The phone rang again, louder this time, the shrill sound cutting through his fragile thoughts like a blade. His heart raced, his body tensed, and he hesitated. His hand hovered above the phone for what seemed like an eternity before he finally reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as they brushed against the cold surface of the device. It felt warm, warmer than his own skin. His throat tightened, but he forced himself to inhale deeply, pushing away the heaviness that threatened to suffocate him.

With a shaky exhale, he pressed the button to answer. "Mike!" The voice on the other end came at him with the force of a storm. "Where the hell have you been? I've been trying to reach you for hours! Do you want to kill me? You're my father, damn it! My biological father! You think I'm playing some game?"

It was Shane. His voice was a mixture of frustration and concern, the familiar tone of an old friend who knew him too well. Shane's words crashed over him, but Mike could barely focus. The moment he heard that voice, something inside him broke, and his resolve shattered. The tears he had been holding back for so long finally came, streaming down his pale face. The quiet sobs wracked his body, each one feeling like a small release, a moment of vulnerability he had long denied.

"Mike? Mike, are you there? What happened? What's going on?" Shane's voice softened, no longer harsh, but laced with genuine concern. He called out again, desperation creeping into his words.

Mike could only choke on his emotions, unable to answer at first. He pulled the phone slightly away from his ear, taking deep, shuddering breaths to steady himself. The words were stuck in his throat, too heavy to speak. Finally, he managed to speak, his voice barely above a whisper: "I'm... fine."

But his attempt at reassurance fell flat, and the tremor in his voice did not go unnoticed. Shane was no fool, and he heard the faint trace of fear in his friend's words. "Mike, " he said softly. "What's really going on? You don't sound fine. You've never sounded like this before."

Mike heart clenched painfully in his chest. He knew he couldn't lie to Shane, not anymore. But he also couldn't tell him the truth not the full truth. "It's nothing," he said, trying to sound dismissive. "Just a cold... and a stuffy nose. Nothing serious."

Shane wasn't buying it. "Mike, you're not fooling me. Something's wrong. Where are you? What happened?"

Mike tried to regain some semblance of control, but the walls were closing in on him. "I'm... just not feeling well. But I'll be fine." He swallowed hard, pressing his lips together to keep his voice steady. "Do you need something?"

Shane paused for a moment, as if weighing his next words carefully. "I'm back in the country. I'm staying with my sister for now, but I'll be in Sand City soon. I'm coming to find you. I don't care what's going on, we need to talk. You've been avoiding me for too long."

Mike's stomach twisted at the thought of facing Sha. He didn't want to see anyone, least of all someone who knew him so well. But he couldn't keep running. He couldn't shut everyone out forever. "What day is it today?" he asked, his voice almost mechanical.

"The 7th," Shane replied. "Don't tell me you're not free? I'm coming to see you whether you like it or not. I've had to reject so many people just to find time for you, so don't act like you're too busy for me."

Mike rubbed his temple, trying to ease the headache that was intensifying. "Where does your sister live? I'll come to you. I'm going out anyway."

Shane's voice lightened, and Mike could almost hear the grin on his face. "I'll text you the address. It's been ages since we last saw each other. You've been avoiding me long enough, but now I'm dragging you out. You owe me this much."

"Shane," Mike interrupted, his voice strained. "I'm not joking. I need to ask you something serious. Do you trust me?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Shane's tone shifted, becoming more cautious, but the sincerity was clear. "Of course I trust you, Mike. You're my brother. I've trusted you for over twenty years. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together. What's going on? What happened?"

Mike's heart hammered in his chest, and his emotions surged again. He wanted to tell Shane everything. He wanted to unburden himself. But the words wouldn't come. Not yet. "I... I need your help. I need you to help me buy some goods quickly. I don't care how. Borrow money from anyone you can. The more, the better. Do you understand?"

Shane's tone was filled with worry now. "Mike, what's going on? What kind of trouble are you in?"

But Mike didn't answer. Instead, he disconnected the call, the weight of his request hanging heavily in the air. His mind raced, the urgency in his request consuming him. He had no time to explain everything. The walls were closing in, and the darkness was getting closer. But for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel completely alone. He had made his first step toward reaching out, even if it was only the beginning of a much darker path ahead.