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A drop of sweat trickled down the side of Arin's forehead as his eyes remained frozen on the bloodied, dead rodent, his gaze both psychotic and satisfied. Both his grip on the scissors and the cage were extremely tight. Had there been enough light in the room you could see the veins in his forearms popping out. Everything in the room was completely still except for the pool of blood underneath the rodent. It was almost impossible for him to move, to look away from the poor creature whose life was taken by him. 

For some reason, taking life in an abandoned shack in the middle of a mysterious forest was much more pleasurable than killing cattle. 

He let out a heavy sigh and eased his tight grip on the cage and scissors. His mind was so hypnotized by the carcass that he had forgotten to breath. It was difficult for him to recall the last time he had the urge to kill something. The craving had been satisfied, for now, which was kind of a bad thing. His malicious mindset of murder usually blinded his guilt and hatred for himself, but that had evaporated for the time being. Arin was back to his normal self, if you could even call it that.

The boy suddenly flinched and backed away from the dead rodent before him, suddenly disgusted. More so of himself than the carcass. He bumped into a shelf, knocking down one of the jars that contained who knows what. His breathing was heavy and his anxiety was returning. The candlelight had gone out as well. The darkness that he embraced earlier now frightened him. His back was against the wall, or maybe a shelf. Even though there was no candle light, the pool of blue that the lantern created was enough for him to see the dead rodent inside of the cage, staring back at him with lifeless eyes. Or, eye. 

Arin began to slide down the wall (or shelf) of the room, his heavy breathing was shaky and his eyes grew watery. 

"I'm [i]sorry,[/i]" He whispered. He really was, at least at the moment. "Why, [i]WHY AM I LIKE THIS[/i]" He was shouting. 

A wolf howled, causing the boy to jump, his head shot towards the window. "Oh no, [i]oh no[/i]" What a mess. He no longer seek'd answers as to who brought him here, instead he only wished for shelter, safety and forgiveness. He could hear a faint voice but not what it was saying. The sound of the owl's fluttering slightly comforted him, as well as the thought of those fireflies. He wished to see them, to be in their presence once more. 

Shuffling. Footsteps. Arin's head shot towards the front and only door. His face contorted in fear. He was still sitting, leaning against the wall avoiding the rodent's perished gaze. Without hesitation the boy crawled underneath the table, grabbing the lantern, hugging it as if it could somehow keep him safe. At some point tears had slid down his cheeks. His eyes remained fixed on the door as he remained underneath the table. 

Arin awaited his punishment.