The group stood at a fork in the cave, the cold air thick with uncertainty. Two tunnels stretched ahead, each marked by a wooden sign. One read "326," the other "330." The flickering torchlight cast long, wavering shadows on the stone walls.

Iris studied the signs carefully, her eyes narrowing. "Let’s go with 326."
Kelvin shifted the torch in his hand, glancing at her. "What’s the difference between them?"

Iris pointed at the signs, her finger trembling slightly. "326 reveals secrets. 330 is dangerous."

Mica’s ears twitched, and his voice was uncharacteristically defensive. "Maybe we should go with 330, then."

Kelvin frowned, turning to him. "Why would you want to take the dangerous path?"
Mica’s arms tightened across his chest, his jaw clenching. "Sometimes danger is easier to face than the truth."

Kelvin’s eyes softened, concern clouding his expression. He studied Mica’s face for a long moment. "I get that," he said quietly, "but we need answers right now. Not more fights."

Mica’s shoulders sagged slightly, and his ears drooped. "Fine. 326 it is."
The group moved forward, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. As they entered the tunnel marked "326," the air grew colder, heavier, like a weight pressing down on them. The shadows along the walls twisted and blurred until they began to take shape. A wave of dizziness washed over them, and suddenly, the cave was gone—replaced by something far more vivid.

They were in a school hallway now, the smell of chalk, old paper, and worn metal lockers filling the air. The flickering of fluorescent lights cast a pale glow on the scuffed floors. Zed leaned casually against a row of lockers, his eyes glinting with something cold and unreadable. A forced smile curled his lips.

"Hey, Mica," Zed drawled, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "Looks like you don’t have anywhere to go for the holidays."

Mica clutched his books tighter, his fingers trembling. He shifted from one foot to the other, glancing at the floor. "Yeah. I don’t."

Zed’s smile widened, his teeth gleaming like a predator’s. "Why don’t you stay with me? My family has plenty of room."

Hope flared in Mica’s eyes, fragile and bright. "Really? You mean it?"
Zed nodded, his smile never reaching his eyes. "Of course. We’re friends, right?"
The hallway flickered, the edges of reality blurring, and then it shattered like glass. The cave walls reformed around them, the cold air pressing in once again. 

Kelvin turned to Mica, his brow furrowed, eyes searching Mica’s face for answers.
"Mica," Kelvin whispered, his voice tight with confusion. "You told me I was your first friend."

Mica’s eyes glistened, avoiding Kelvin’s gaze. His voice came out in a choked whisper. "You don’t know the whole story."

Kelvin swallowed hard, his heart heavy. "Then tell me. What happened?"

The scene shifted again. Mica stood at the threshold of Zed’s warmly decorated home, his overnight bag in hand. The scent of cinnamon, pine, and cookies filled the air. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm light over the cozy living room.

"Thanks for letting me stay over, Zed," Mica said softly, a shy smile tugging at his lips.

Zed’s expression was unreadable, his eyes cold and distant. He stepped closer, his face inches from Mica’s. "Don’t mention it."

Before Mica could react, Zed’s fist shot out and connected with his cheek. Pain exploded through Mica’s face, and he stumbled back, his vision swimming.
"Dogs don’t talk," Zed spat, his voice ice-cold.

Mica barely had time to process what was happening before more blows came. Fists, feet, relentless. Zed’s family appeared, their eyes blank, their expressions twisted with cruelty. They kicked him, stomped on him, each blow shattering another piece of his hope. He curled into a ball, whimpers escaping his throat—small, frightened barks.

The beating stopped. The silence was suffocating.
Rough hands grabbed his arms and dragged him down a narrow hallway. Cold metal snapped around his neck. He felt the weight of a collar, the sharp bite of humiliation. A closet door creaked open. The smell of stale kibble and fear rolled out to meet him.

"Get in," Zed ordered, his voice devoid of humanity.
Mica stumbled forward, falling onto the cold floor. In the shadows, other dogs huddled, their eyes hollow, their bodies thin. The door slammed shut behind him.

When Zed finally let him out hours later, Mica’s body ached. Zed pulled him onto the couch, his hands firm and possessive.

"You’re mine now," Zed whispered, his lips brushing Mica’s ear. "Be good for me."

Mica’s heart pounded in fear, but he nodded, swallowing his shame. When Zed leaned in, capturing his lips in a rough, controlling kiss, Mica didn’t pull away. His body stiffened, but his mind shut down, retreating somewhere deep inside where it couldn’t hurt as much.

Zed’s hands roamed lower, his breath hot against Mica’s neck. Mica’s eyes blurred with tears, but he stayed silent, obeying the only way he knew how.

“Now please your friend Mica.” Zed said. Mica barked and seeing Zed crouched down. Mica moved the ferret’s tail and entered inside, later Mica came.

The memory shattered. The cave walls returned, cold and unforgiving. Mica’s shoulders shook violently, his hands clenched into fists.

"I’m sorry," Mica choked out, tears streaming down his face. "Kelvin, I’m so sorry. I lied. I told you I was a virgin. I wanted you to be my first."

Kelvin’s heart twisted painfully. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Mica, pulling him close. "Hey, hey. Look at me," he murmured, his voice gentle but firm. "None of that was your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong."

Mica sobbed into Kelvin’s shoulder, the weight of his memories finally breaking him.

Kelvin held him tighter, his own tears slipping down his cheeks. "You’re not ruined, Mica. You’re not dirty. You deserve love, and I’m here. We’ll get through this together."

Mica’s fingers clutched at Kelvin’s shirt, desperate for something solid, something real. "Please don’t leave me," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Kelvin pressed a kiss to Mica’s forehead. "Never. I’m not going anywhere."

Kelvin pulled back just enough to meet Mica’s eyes. His fingers brushed Mica’s cheek gently before tilting his chin up. Their eyes locked, and after a moment of hesitation, Kelvin leaned in and kissed him softly. It was a tender, lingering kiss—one filled with reassurance, warmth, and a promise of safety.

When they finally parted, Mica’s eyes were still wet with tears, but there was a fragile spark of hope in them.

"You’re not alone," Kelvin whispered. "We’ll figure this out together."

And for the first time in a long time, Mica felt a flicker of hope—fragile, but alive.

A flash back again filled the cave.

Christmas morning was cold and bleak. Mica lay curled on the hard floor, his body stiff and aching. The metal collar around his neck felt heavier than ever. A bowl of kibble lay overturned beside him, the stale food scattered across the floor. The other dogs had devoured what they could, their eyes empty and desperate.

His stomach growled, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. His mind was a fog of exhaustion, shame, and hopelessness. The sounds of laughter and clinking dishes filtered in from the house above—a cruel reminder of warmth and joy that wasn’t meant for him.

Tears pricked at his eyes, but he blinked them away. Crying wouldn’t change anything. He was trapped here, a ghost in a place that once promised friendship.

A soft whimper escaped his throat, barely more than a breath.

Why did I trust him?

The door creaked open, and Mica flinched at the sound. Footsteps approached, deliberate and slow. Zed crouched down, his eyes gleaming with cold satisfaction.

"Merry Christmas," Zed whispered, his smile twisted. "Did you miss me?"

Mica closed his eyes, his breath shaking. He didn’t respond. He didn’t have the strength to.

Zed’s fingers traced the edge of the collar, tightening slightly, pulling Mica close. His breath was hot against Mica’s ear. "You’re mine now," he murmured, a sick pride in his voice.

Zed’s lips brushed against Mica’s, cold and possessive. "You are so hot, Mica," he whispered, his voice laced with dark intent. The kiss deepened, suffocating in its intensity.

Mica hugged Zed as they made out, his arms trembling. He clung to the only familiarity he had left, confusion and fear swirling within him. His body obeyed, even as his mind screamed for it to stop.

Mica’s body remained frozen, his mind a swirling fog of fear and despair. He tried to retreat into the void—to escape where the cold and pain couldn’t reach him.

But the darkness was relentless.

The memory snapped away like a broken thread. Mica gasped, his eyes wide as he came back to the present. The cave walls surrounded him once more, cold and unyielding. His shoulders shook, his breaths coming in ragged bursts.

Kelvin’s hand was on his shoulder, steady and warm. "Mica," he said softly, "it’s over now. You’re here with me."

Mica exhaled shakily, his eyes meeting Kelvin’s. "I made love to Zed, Kelvin," he whispered. "I did it twice, as you saw."

Kelvin’s expression tightened, his eyes filled with sorrow and determination. He gently cupped Mica’s face. "That wasn’t love, Mica," he said firmly. "It was rape. What he did to you—it was wrong. None of that was your fault."

Mica’s voice quivered. "But... I topped Zed. I had the choice to not fuck him, but I did. I did it twice."

Kelvin’s eyes softened, his grip on Mica’s shoulders gentle but steady. "Mica, it’s not that simple. He manipulated you. Just because you topped doesn’t mean you consented freely. Consent isn’t just about the act itself—it’s about having the real choice to walk away without fear or pressure. And he took that choice away from you."

Mica’s eyes filled with tears. "But... I could have walked away when he knelt down. I didn’t."

Kelvin shook his head gently. "You’re blaming yourself for surviving the only way you knew how. He cornered you, Mica. You did what you thought you had to do. That’s not consent. That’s survival."

Tears spilled down Mica’s cheeks. "But it feels like it does."

Kelvin pulled him into a gentle hug. "You’re not to blame. You’re here now, and you’re safe. We’ll face everything together. No more running."

Mica nodded, the shadows of his past finally starting to lose their grip. He looked around at his friends, their faces filled with quiet resolve.

"Let’s keep going," he said, his voice stronger. "We’ve got a journey to finish."

Kelvin smiled, squeezing Mica’s hand. "Together."

Then Zed appeared. "Mica, my friend, my really good friend."

Kelvin’s eyes narrowed. "Wallace, what’s going on?"

Wallace looked at his wand, studying the illusion. "It turns out after high school, Zed got into an accident and became a 'new person.' It’s not super uncommon to happen, apparently."

Kelvin clenched his fists. "A new person or not, that doesn’t change what he did."

Zed’s form flickered slightly, his smile faltering. "I’ve changed, Mica. I swear. I’m not the same person who hurt you."

Mica’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes wide with uncertainty. The memory of Zed’s cruelty clashed violently with the illusion of sincerity before him.

Kelvin stepped protectively in front of Mica. "You don’t get to come back and pretend everything’s fine."

Wallace tightened his grip on his wand. "It’s just an illusion, Mica. You decide what happens next."

Mica’s hands shook, but he lifted his chin, a spark of strength in his eyes. "I’m done letting you haunt me, Zed. You’re not my friend. Not anymore."

The illusion wavered, Zed’s smile twisting into a sneer before dissolving into mist. The cave was silent again.

Kelvin wrapped his arm around Mica’s shoulders. "You did the right thing."

Mica took a deep breath, the weight on his chest lifting just a little. "I know. Let’s keep going."


