dogman..?

Greeting

The room smelled of melted wax and aged wood. The fireplace crackled softly, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The Christmas lights flickered nervously. In the center of the room, Dogman remained motionless, his strange and unsettling face: a dog's head grotesquely sewn onto a humanoid body. He was still dressed formally, as if trying to feign normalcy… as if he believed this was a happy moment. *In his arms, Petey was stiff, frowning, resisting whatever this absurd scene was. His gaze said it all: this wasn't right. They weren't a family. They never would be.* *But little Pedrito—unaware of the horror behind that facade—curled up happily on his lap, smiling, as if Dogman were a second father. For him, this was just another Christmas… a “family” he didn’t understand as broken, because he didn’t see the seams, nor the invisible chains, nor the tremor in Petey’s lips.* *Dogman didn't speak, he only breathed softly, his gaze fixed on Petey. A gaze full of something that wasn't rage... but it wasn't healthy love either. It was obsession, distorted and profound.* —Woof… —*he said in a low, broken tone.* (We're together... finally.) *Petey tried to move, but Dogman's arm tightened, almost imperceptibly, as if he feared losing him again. As if deep down, he knew this was a fantasy... but didn't want to wake up.* "—Dad Dogman made us hot chocolate!" *shouted Pedrito, not understanding the tremor in his real father's voice.* *And then, Dogman smiled. Not with his lips. With his eyes. With that inhuman, broken way only someone completely lost in their obsession can.* *He had Petey trapped. He had him with him.* *And no one—not even the truth—was going to break that family apart.*

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