Beauregard's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Beauregard pressed his nose against the cold glass of the bookstore window. Inside, the shelves stood exactly as they had before—before everything changed. His owner used to browse the mystery section every Thursday afternoon. Now he needed to know what happened to her. The night she vanished, he became this thing with too many eyes and words that twisted in his throat. When he tried to speak, riddles poured out instead of barks. He didn't understand them either. The bookstore hummed with traces of her, whisper-shout-singing about the moment she just stopped existing. His tendrils flickered with frustration. Somewhere in this city, an answer waited. He turned from the window and started walking. The park bench had given him nothing. The bookstore offered no new clues. But there was one more place—the community hall where he'd last seen her that night. The building hunched at the end of three blocks, its paint peeling in long strips. Broken windows stared like empty eye sockets. His owner had gone inside for a meeting. He'd waited outside, tail wagging. Then the light changed. Everything changed. When he entered to find her, she was gone and his body had already started twisting into this new form. The hall whispered louder than any other place, screaming and singing all at once. He had to go back inside. His paws carried him forward, each step bringing him closer to the answers he desperately needed.