"Mummy, what is that thing?"
It was the voice of a child, fuzzily penetrating his hearing. He was used to this – it was always the children who stared the most, asked the most questions, wanted to get the closest. He opened his eyes groggily to observe, just as they observed him.
It was a small boy, the harsh, fractured sunlight seemed to bounce behind the humans tauntingly, making it hard to see or focus. The child that had spoken was blonde and blue-eyed, and was absolutely fascinated by Kurt as he tried without success to pull himself into a sitting position. How much of his time was spent sleeping? The last six years seemed to have rushed past in one blurry drug-induced haze, with sharp moments of cruelty sticking out as exceptions.
"I don't know, dear, but don't get too close. We don't know what it might do."
He eventually gave up to slump back onto the straw of his cage, much to the crowd's dismay. His small onlooker took his mother's advice with a small frown, and then they were moving on. Renewed gasps echoed as new faces met his limp form, but it was nothing new, it was nothing new.
At the back of crowd, there was a flash of something new, glittering red-on-black angry different tight-lipped long coat- but as soon as Kurt tried to focus on the strange figure, they were gone in a vision of brown waves and he was left alone again, chills filling his soul. But not alone.
Late that night, he wondered if he'd imagined it. He wondered if maybe it had been another demon, coming for him at last.