— Mallory?
Azazel's whispering contracts my stomach. He has a deep, low-pitched voice, like a sensual caress.
— Mallory, your meal is ready.
I close my eyes with all my strength to forget the words I have just heard, his presence behind the door, and I pray with all my strength that he does not insist and that he goes away. My wish is granted a minute later and a door closes not far from mine. I keep my eyes closed, one hand on the chest of Cerberus that rises and lowers at a regular rhythm that calms my soul, and I end up falling into a restless sleep, populated by images of Leon calling me, a knife in hand, determined to continue his work.
I am awakened by Cerberus who pushes my hand with his wet snout before washing my face with his big, rough tongue. I push him back gently as
