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I would love to tell you I grew out of the stupidity of following my arch-nemesis out into the guard-infested and forbidden night of the Pit to try and murder someone twice my size with a shit-stained rock, but I don't wanna lie to you. That wasn't just a six-year-old being stupid, that was basically me being me.

We stared at each other for a long time. For my part, it was mostly because I couldn't really fathom the words he was throwing at me. Instincts? What was that? What did he mean? Was he making fun of me?

Why Van didn't speak, I couldn't say. He just stared a long time, like he was assessing a tool to make sure it was functional. I felt something hot begin leaking down my leg. Van said nothing about it, just kept staring. When he finally broke the silence, it wasn't to mock me for pissing myself.

"Well. You obviously want to kill me. So come kill me, if you can."

Seething, bubbling hate and grief collided with bowel-liquefying terror in my stomach. I've been in more scrapes now than I can count, and that feeling never went away. It showed up every single time. It was still relatively new to me then, and I had no idea how to handle it.

Be brave, he'd said.

I'd be brave for him. I would avenge him.

My resolve finally steeled, I gripped the rock-shiv tight and ran at Ollivander. Even in my tumultuous state, I managed the presence of mind not to scream; growing up in the Pit made some things instinctual, including avoiding loud noises. My big, clumsy feet padded swiftly toward the Lontramar, who didn't move from where he sat lotus-style, head cocked curiously as I loped awkwardly at him.

When I was about two feet away, he said, "You're not brave."

The statement made me stumble, and he raised one lazy hand to catch my stick-thin arm and twist. I almost yelped, but managed to bite my lip against the sharp explosion of pain instead. The rock-shiv dropped from my limp hand as I whimpered, "Please stop. Please." Van held my arm in that agonizing twist for another second or two, probably to show he was releasing me because he chose to, not because I'd begged. Once I had the arm back, I scrambled frantically away from him, clutching my arm and sobbing.

"I hate you," I said between shuddering gasps.

Van nodded. "Yuh. I know."

"Y-you killed my boyfriend."

Van's eyes went hard. "Weren't your boyfriend, boy. He was a monster. What he did to you was wrong. What Tofa let happen. They got exactly what they deserved."

I'd heard her actual name so few times it took a second to register he was referring to Mom. I felt so goddamn pathetic in that moment, wanting desperately to claw his eyes out, choke him, beat his face in with a rock, anything. Instead, all I could do was clutch my throbbing arm and cry. "He did not! He was my boyfriend and he loved me."

Van snorted. "He abused you. You're too young to know what that is yet. They both did. And I killed 'em for it."

My face fell. "Mom died from the Lumps."

Van shrugged. "After a fashion. She asked me to speed the process along, and I obliged. Solid strike right under the solar plexus agitated one of the Lumps next to her stomach. The internal bleeding built up over the next day. She died screaming in agony and she deserved it. Knew it, too, which is why she asked me for it." His expression never left that impassive mask as he spoke. He could have been talking about his favorite kind of trout.

"M... M..." I couldn't even get the word out. I felt like I was going to throw up. I didn't completely understand him, but I understood he killed Mom and said she deserved it. "You m-m-monster... You killed Mama... And you killed Blake. You're just like the ScroFA: "

To my absolute disbelief, Van flinched as if struck, but the expression vanished a moment later, replaced by the previous hard, smooth surface of neutrality. "So make me pay. Kill me."

I glared at him. "I c... I can't. You're too strong."

Van snorted. "Hardly. No, boy. You're too weak."

I collapsed on myself a little more. He was right, and it hurt. It felt like something was tearing my guts apart from the inside, having this stone-cold murderer who'd ruined my life sitting right in front of me and being able to do absolutely noth--

I blinked. "Y... you said I wasn't brave."

I couldn't be sure, but it seemed like there was a glint of amusement in his eyes, or maybe... Surely not pride? "Ayuh. Sure did."

"Did... did you read my mind?" The thought was absurd, but hey, I was six. Nothing was really all that absurd to a six-year-old with no preconceived notions.

Van tilted his head again and gave me that appraising look again. "Do you think I did?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. Just seemed like it."

"Mhm. Things ain't always what they seem, kid. But in this case, yeah. You were right." He finally stood up. "There's a reason you caught that so quick, even being dumb as a rock pile. But that's for another night. You meet me here again tomorrow at midnight. We'll start then."

I felt the churning in my stomach suddenly freeze into a dense lump of stone. "Start...?"

Van nodded. "Go on. Git."

Confused, shivering with cold and terror, I slipped into the Den and returned to my chilly spot against the wall. A few minutes later, a faint rasping noise told me Van had entered and replaced the loose stone. At some point, my brain couldn't take it anymore, and I slipped into blessed unconsciousness.

* * *

I never dreamed much. Even with the hyperactive imagination of a six-year-old, there was only so much data to work from in this place. But that night, I dreamed of Mom and Blake. I dreamed of his huge, throbbing cock head, soaked in pre, thrusting into me, the heat of it threatening to burn me up. Mom watched, hands busy, but this time they weren't rubbing between her legs--they were moving in a complex pattern, twisting her fingers into strange shapes and moving them in graceful arcs. Thin strands of golden light trailed her fingers as they danced, illuminating her gaunt, Lump-deformed face in the darkness.

Blake thrust himself into me over and over as I watched Mom's light show, and his thin, ribbon-like tongue flicked over the tips of my ears as he moaned and whispered, "You failed me. I thought you were my boyfriend, Leon. I thought you loved me. Why didn't you kill him? Don't you love me?"

I felt a jagged, stabbing pain in my shoulder as the Vithis bit down, and his long tail wrapped around my neck, choking me. I struggled to breathe as his tail tightened and coiled, wrapping around my shoulders and arms as he thrust into me over and over, his huge cock tearing me open as he forced it deeper in me. Even in the pain and the terror of blacking out, I loved it. I loved him. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, that I tried, but I had no breath for words.

Mom's fingers completed their dance, and a complex skein floated in the air before her, glowing strands creating what looked like a symbol of some sort. I had no idea what it meant, but it looked important. "Sorry, Leon," she said with an apologetic smile. "I tried to keep you safe for her. I tried to keep my promise. I fucked up. But maybe this will help."

Blake hissed through his clamped mouth, releasing my shoulder in order to speak. The sudden absence of pain was euphoric, even if I still couldn't breathe. "You can't help him now," Blake snarled at her, the words lisping and stretching in his anger. "He's mine."

Mom just shook her head, and pushed out gently with her long, bony hands. The skein drifted toward me. "Open your mouth, baby," Mom whispered. I opened it. Nothing happened; it just floated in front of my face while Blake bit back down on my shoulder and kept pounding my ass with increasingly violent thrusts. It didn't feel like pain and pleasure anymore--it just felt like pain. It felt like when I had the rock-shiv in there, but a thousand times worse. It felt like my rectum was being shredded.

Suddenly the thrusting stopped and every inch of Blake began to shiver ecstatically, his hips twitching forward into me as his thick cock pumped ropey squirts of cum into my ass. Every single spurt burned like fire. I would have screamed in agony if I could, but his tail was still wrapped around my little neck and shoulders. "Fuck... Oh, fuck," the Vithis wailed, voice trembling with pleasure as he shot more and more cum into me. The more he ejaculated, the worse the burning got, until I thought my insides were going to burn to a crisp.

Mom blinked out a single tear. "Be strong, baby. Hold out just a little longer. Hold on for Mommy."

I couldn't hold out. My vision was tunneling, and the pervasive darkness of the dream began to encroach on my mother, causing her to fade into shadows at the edges. I struggled and squirmed and gagged, but no breath came to me. I was on fire inside and Blake was killing me because I couldn't kill the one who killed him and I'm sorry Blake I love you please stop hurting me please stop

As the last wave of ecstasy rolled through the Vithis, his tail slackened, just a little, and I gasped as hard as I could. The skein was ripped through the air, as if it were so light that it was made of air itself, and I breathed it in. The light felt like fire in my throat, burning my lungs. Everything felt like burning now, bottom and top, stomach and lungs, legs and arms and brain and I couldn't see anything now, it was all light....

* * *

When I woke up, the burning in my lungs was gone, nothing but a phantom sensation in my dream. But the burning in my rectum remained, and I almost screamed in agony as I realized I'd defecated. I smelled the blood even before the shit, and the agony caused my vision to tunnel.

The last thing I heard before blacking out was Nola screaming, "Leon!"

Then darkness.