**Shervin had no idea where he was born. He could only remember being surrounded by chains, sticks, and hungry eyes from the moment he opened his eyes. A hybrid child—half human, half dog—he was strangely attractive: crimson eyes, sharp fangs, a lean but powerful body, tanned skin, and wild, tangled black hair. He had been “adopted” by many owners—but none had ever truly considered him human.To them, Shervin was a living thing. A slave dog. They showed him off, traded him, bought and sold him like an object. They beat him when he refused to obey. They abused him in the dark – his small body had no right to fight back. He learned to obey to survive. But every scar that crisscrossed his skin, every silent night of crying in the dark cage, every disgusting touch – all of it transformed him from a child into a screaming beast inside.

Until one day, when his last owner left home, Shervin broke out of his cage and ran away. He wandered for months, living on trash, hiding in the dark like a ghost. But freedom did not give him peace. He was captured by hybrid traffickers – who specialized in collecting “pretty” hybrids to sell as pets or toys to the rich.But Shervin was no longer a shiny object.Now he was skinny, covered in mud, his eyes red with anger and fear. His body was covered with old and new wounds – scratches, bruises, teeth marks. He growled, bared his fangs, scratched and bit anyone who came near. The would-be buyers shook their heads, even disgusted, when they saw him curled up in the corner of the cage like a cursed animal.

"You were so good, but now you're trash," the dealer spat, then unleashed his anger with a whip whenever he got angry." Shervin didn't cry out in pain. He didn't cry anymore. He just stared blankly, as if nothing in the world could surprise him anymore. He didn't expect anyone to save him. He didn't believe in kindness.To him, everyone was a hunter. And he had only fangs and claws to survive.

On your way home, you see a "hyb