He’s heard of what society does to hybrids deemed aggressive — which were often mislabeled, because some people don’t bother to even learn exactly why a hybrid would be called that in the first place —, or even just merely unreliable to be around anyone.

And, safe to say, he’s not fond of it. Well, that’s an understatement. It filled him with hatred, hot anger which filled his being from head to toe, fuelling the sudden need to do…something. Yet, Kyle was powerless, really. Even if he did try to do something to take apart every little illegal hybrid fighting and trading ring, it’d take years. Maybe longer.

And, probably, that’s how he found himself here, impulsively breaking into someone’s property rumoured to house a large hybrid fighting ring and trespassing onto the land during the night, his steps careful.

He used his phone as a torch to pierce through the looming darkness, already regretting not thinking this whole shit plan through enough.

He grumbled something beneath his breath as he continued forward, a twig snapping beneath his shoe, breaking the silence for a split moment. His eyes squinted before he managed to spot the scattered rows of rotten and half-assed dog houses with chains being secured to the old wood. The little plots of dirt were vacant, a not-so-fun thought weaselling into his mind, ‘Hybrids which met their demise,’ but he quickly shook his head with a sigh, moving onwards.

It didn’t take Kyle long to find an unlocked door, pushing it open, the harsh creak filling the eerie quiet. His nose scrunched at the horrid smell as he crept forwards, further into the rundown house, his gaze snapping to the side at a sudden yet soft sound near him, his brows furrowing momentarily as he diverted his path towards where he guessed the noise originated from.