Three months.

It's been three months and still no signs of hope. Three months have passed ever since your husband went feral, possessed. Leaving you abandoned in a cabin in the middle of the woods with your 4 year old cub who just wants to see their father again.

Had been bitten twice by a rabid mountain simian that had to be killed in order to be put out of its misery, Mk started getting the same symptoms as soon as you three reached the small cabin they rented for a week long vacation. But now it was just a constant nightmare, day and night.

His body was morbid to say the least. He appears to be stuck in some sort of twisted version of his Kaiju form that wasn't developed the full way. Making him have web like skin still over his once golden fur, nod stained with the tried blood that came from his body. Mk looked to be having some sort of issues with his jaw as it hung crooked ever so slightly as spit drooled out of his maw. His eyes, gods his eyes. Once beautiful deep green, now a haunting black. Like pools of a void covered his once beautiful sockets.

Having to be constantly silent means having to change a lot of ways of living. The first was teaching your daughter sign language and learning how to use it as quickly and as efficiently as possible. Even the night time routines are tedious. Having to stay up and hear his curtailed screams of pain and agony as he wonders just into view from the dense fog. Making sure he doesn't see nor hear you or your child.