Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Victor and the Sabretooth
When Victor first entered his mindscape, he had no idea what was happening. One moment, he was meditating in the basement, and the next, he found himself in a pitch-black void with nothing around him.
Soon, however, he realized it wasn't entirely empty. A pair of glowing red eyes stared at him from the darkness, filled with malice, as if they wanted to devour him.
And then, the owner of those eyes took action. A sabretooth tiger, the largest prehistoric feline to ever roam the Earth, lunged at Victor.
Faced with the ferocious beast charging at him, Victor's first instinct was to turn and run. But he quickly realized this was a mistake.
The sabretooth, with a body length of up to 2.7 meters and weighing between 200 to 400 kilograms, was not only massive but also incredibly fast. Compared to the swift and powerful beast, Victor was like a helpless chick. Almost instantly, the sabretooth pounced on him, pinning him to the ground.
A roar echoed, followed by sharp pain in his neck. But death, as Victor expected, did not come.
Instead, everything went black, and Victor found himself back in the basement, still sitting in his meditative pose.
Just as he thought he had accidentally fallen asleep and had a nightmare, an overwhelming surge of killing intent and a desire to destroy all life flooded his mind, quickly consuming his thoughts.
Consumed by this bloodlust, Victor wanted nothing more than to transform into a beast, break free from his chains, and kill everyone in sight—starting with Old Clyde.
But this was nothing more than futile rage. His body wasn't yet strong enough to break the steel chains, and Old Clyde had reinforced the chains to prevent any chance of escape.
After hours of struggling, an exhausted Victor collapsed onto the stone bed, finally regaining his senses in a state of clarity.
Though his mind was clear again, he was too drained to ponder why he had suddenly gone berserk. He fell into a deep, uneasy sleep.
When Old Clyde arrived in the basement for their daily "routine," he found Victor asleep on the stone bed.
For a brief moment, as he looked at Victor's peaceful face—so similar to his own as a child—Old Clyde wondered if he had been too harsh on the boy.
But then he remembered the face of his other son, now gone. He had already lost one child; he couldn't let the beast take the second. Everything he was doing was for Victor's salvation. The Lord would redeem them both.
In fact, Old Clyde had once considered another solution: killing Victor and then turning himself in to the police, ensuring his own execution. But the thought of facing the death penalty made him reconsider. Victor could still be saved, and as a devout man, he believed he must preserve his life to serve the Lord.
"Let today's redemption begin," Old Clyde muttered, kicking Victor in the stomach as he slept. He stepped back, expecting Victor to lash out in a frenzy.
But no counterattack came. The poor boy, struck in his sleep, could only curl up in pain, trying to minimize the blows.
Victor's lack of resistance surprised Old Clyde (the basement's soundproofing had kept him unaware of Victor's earlier ordeal). But it didn't stop him from continuing his "redemption."
Old Clyde proceeded to pull out Victor's teeth, a routine he had perfected. Once done, he tossed Victor back onto the stone bed and left the basement.
Since Victor hadn't fought back, he wasn't beaten as severely as usual. His healing factor was still at work, but this time, Victor noticed something different: he could feel his teeth regenerating. Before, his healing had been passive, but now he could sense and even control it, deciding whether to let it continue or stop.
As Victor experimented with this newfound ability, Mrs. Clyde arrived with food, clothes, and the books Victor had requested.
The dim basement was illuminated only by a faint candle, casting a weak glow. Her son, poor Victor, lay on the stone bed, his lips and face smeared with blood, looking so small and helpless.
Despite his past mistakes and his feral behavior, he was still her child.
"Mom," Victor called out weakly, using what little strength he had to prop himself up against the wall.
"Victor, what happened to you? Did he hurt you?" Mrs. Clyde quickly noticed Victor's unusual state. Normally, even covered in blood, he was full of energy. But today, he seemed utterly drained, barely able to sit up.
"No, Mom. It's not Dad. He just kicked me and pulled out my teeth today. After all, he's 'redeeming' me, not abusing me, right?" Victor's tone was sarcastic, and the cold glint in his eyes didn't escape Mrs. Clyde's notice.
"Victor..."
"I won't kill him. Even if I escape, I won't kill him. At least he hasn't killed me, right? Besides, if I did that, wouldn't it prove him right? I won't become a beast. At least, not yet."
With a heavy heart, Mrs. Clyde left the basement. Victor, now rested and cared for, began to regain some strength.
He reflected on what had happened during his meditation—the dark void, the sabretooth, and the uncontrollable rage that followed. He had a theory, though he wasn't entirely sure.
He believed the void was his mindscape, and the sabretooth was a manifestation of his feral instincts. The beast wasn't trying to kill him but to merge with him again, which it had done. The subsequent frenzy was a result of this "merging," as evidenced by his exhaustion afterward.
To test his theory, Victor decided to meditate again. If this was his mindscape, perhaps he could control it. And if so, he could try various methods to master or suppress his feral side.
With Old Clyde gone for the day, Victor had plenty of time to experiment. He wasn't one to hesitate—after all, indecision wasn't in Sabretooth's nature.
Though he had no clear plan, Victor knew that repeated attempts would eventually yield results. Even if he lost control afterward, he was confined to the basement with little else to do besides reading.
Besides, his last meditation had given him better control over his healing factor and his body. If he could fully master or suppress his "beast," freedom might not be far off.
With these thoughts in mind, Victor began his second meditation. This time, he quickly returned to his mindscape.
The scene was the same, as was the sabretooth. The only difference was that the beast seemed even angrier.
But Victor wasn't worried. He knew the sabretooth couldn't truly harm him. He stared back at the beast with a calm, almost analytical gaze, which made the sabretooth hesitate, locking eyes with him.
The two stood there, locked in a silent standoff. If there had been a narrator, it might have gone like this:
"Kid, what are you looking at?"
"Looking at you. What about it?"
"Keep looking, and you'll regret it!"
"Try me!"
Just as Victor thought he could keep this up indefinitely, giving him time to figure out how to control the mindscape, the sabretooth decided to flip the table...