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Sometimes, Stranger hated how malleable and unpredictable Sunny’s psyche could be. The Dreamer was capable of creating landscapes of ethereal beauty, but he was also prone to spawning the most twisted scenarios whenever his obsessions leaked into his subconscious.
"what kind of humiliation is this?" Stranger hissed, struggling futilely against the Red Hands that pinned him to the cold floor of the Whispering Woods.
In front of him, Omori watched with a disturbing fixity, toyed with the shimmer of his knife.
"Nothing personal. I’m just following orders" Omori replied with a hollow smile.
Cat ears twitched atop his raven hair with feline excitement, betraying that, although he claimed to be obeying Sunny's whims, he was enjoying every second. Omori let his gaze roam over his adversary’s new form: Stranger now sported long, drooping ears and a cotton tail that stood out against his fur—dark as a moonless night. It was an image both adorable and degrading.
"Bunny~" Omori purred, dragging out the syllables.
"Don't call me that!" the shadow protested.
It was a mistake. The edge of the knife grazed his throat, slicing through the air and leaving a trail of red static on his neck. Stranger stifled a whimper. Omori seemed to revel in muzzling his "bunny"; he had always hated small, fragile things, and having his enemy in this form was an almost unbearable pleasure.
"Your skin has become so soft..." Omori murmured. Without asking for permission, his hands slid down Stranger’s clothes, stroking the new, fluffy fur. It wasn't enough. He wanted more.
More red hands sprouted from the ground, not just to hold him, but to invade his personal space. They caressed his head, his neck, and those new, sensitive ears, forcing Stranger to swallow his gasps of shame. Omori knew perfectly well that the shadow was vulnerable to physical contact; his ethereal nature was not accustomed to such a high degree of sensory invasion.
"Just surrender to me, little bunny"
Stranger grit his teeth, writhing in a desperate attempt to escape. He was neutralized, humiliated, and subdued, but his spirit continued to fight. That resistance was precisely what drove Omori wild; Stranger's obstinacy only fed his frenzy.
Suddenly, Omori sank his feline fangs into one of the shadow's long ears. The pain was sharp, electric. Stranger let out a broken gasp. Why am I suddenly so sensitive in this part? he thought in a panic, trying to hold his breath as Omori chewed with playful cruelty, tearing a scream from him that echoed in the darkness.
The red hands began to slide beneath his shirt, exploring skin and fur alike. Omori licked the edges of the wound he had just opened in the shadow's ear; his tongue was rough, sandpaper-like, with that feline texture that made Stranger lose the last remnants of his dignity.
Hearing his prey’s erratic breathing, Omori looked at him, his lips stained with red. To his disappointment, Stranger still looked at him with hatred and contempt, but that scowl didn't last long. When the cat began to purr, vibrating against his shoulder while licking his neck, Stranger felt a shiver of submission that he hated with all his soul.
Omori’s fangs flashed before sinking deep into Stranger’s neck, marking him. The scent emanating from the shadow intensified, making Omori lose the little self-control he had left. He dispersed the red hands to seize Stranger’s wrists with his own grip, heavy and possessive.
He hovered over him, triumphant. He had caught the prey he so craved. He was ready to devour him completely.
However, his overconfidence was his downfall. By releasing the pressure of the red hands to position himself better, Omori left a flank open. Stranger, taking advantage, delivered a brutal kick to Omori's stomach.
The blow was strong enough to send Omori flying backward. In that second of confusion, Stranger slipped from his grasp and vanished among the trees with a speed Omori hadn't foreseen.
Omori’s face transformed giving way to a cold, monochromatic fury. His red eyes glowed with murderous intensity. He reached out into the void, but the shadow had already vanished into the fabric of Black Space.
Omori stood alone in the dark forest. His mind, already fractured by Sunny's obsessions, began to reset toward its primary directive. He sheathed his knife, but his gaze remained lost in the gloom.
"Where is he?" he whispered, beginning to walk slowly. "Where is my best friend?"