With a brusque shove Tristan fell into a dank place that reeked of captivity, the burlap sack falling from his head. It was the first light he’d seen in half a day. A shrill howling reverberated off metal walls, assailing his ears until a heavy clang extinguished what little light there was and silenced the screaming.

As his own breathing slowed from a panic pace, Tristan became aware that someone else was in this small place too, breathing just as rapidly. Neither spoke, and the sickening realization of where he must be made its way steadily deeper, past denial and rationalizations, theories of sick pranks and elaborate hoaxes.

“H-h-hello,” Tristan tried quietly.

“No more, no, no, no more…” a tiny voice quavered, not more than a few feet away.

“Wh-where are we?”

“No more, no, no…”

“Wait, please talk to me. Tell me…”

“No. No more. No, no…” The voice kept trailing off into choked sobs.

“Please, no more what?”

A pause and a bracing breath.

“No more biting, no, no…”