Of Brother John, he cries for help
Crying. Screaming.
Ontos does not scream.
But Alvis knows what it looks like.
Tearing. Rending.
Ontos does not twist.
But Alvis knows what it sounds like.
Staring. Devouring.
Ontos does not blink.
But Alvis knows what it feels like.
This is not to say that Ontos is not a body; that consciousness does not have a fundamental name. That desires do not spring from somewhere deep and seeded, and can only be solely thrust upon us.
But by staying so still, Ontos rebels.
And Alvis knows not how to fight such an innate creature.
Certainly, not what it feels like.