Well, it should have been his hand. I let my fingers drift across his arm, feeling the coarse fur that coated it. I felt his hand, the roughness of it, the way his furry fingers ended in sharp tips that sliced through my skin just a little when I touched them.
My heart began to beat wildly as I started to hyperventilate. Whatever this Camio was, it wasn’t the Camio I knew. Or maybe I had never known Camio in the first place. Yes, that seemed right. I was just feeling him for the first time.
He heaved a deep, long-suffering sigh.
As the gravel in his voice rumbled around in his head, I felt my panic begin to subside. It was almost as though something was forcing me to calm down.
“You’re…not?” I asked.
“No,” It answered, “And I’m going to leave now. Go, call the police, Camilla. It’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”
And then, all of a sudden, Camio was gone.
I was left all alone once again.
The police are calling this the most bizarre crime they’ve ever seen.
After Camio left, I stood in the room for what felt like hours, trying to make myself move, and failing. Eventually, I collapsed in a heap on the floor, dragged myself down the hall, and managed to grab my cellphone off the kitchen counter. I called the police and left the line open, prompting them to trace the call and come to my aid.
I was barely conscious when they arrived.