GROWL

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<img src="img/title.png" width="100%" style="display: block; margin: 0 auto;"> [[ENTER]]

"Growl" is a multi‑perspective narrative set in a tense, shifting world where truth is fractured across four lives. The story revolves around the mysterious figure known as Kolcho, a man whose legend has shaped the fears, hopes, and destinies of everyone who has ever crossed his path. His name carries weight, whispered in alleys, sung in taverns, feared in the dark, but no one agrees on who he truly was. You step into the story by choosing one of four characters: Nell, sharp‑eyed and restless, always searching for the cracks beneath the surface Johnny, loyal but haunted, torn between duty and desire Gallia, fierce and intuitive, driven by a truth she can feel but not yet name Jimmy, reckless, charming, and far too good at hiding what hurts him Each of them has lived through the same world, but none of them has lived the same story. As you follow the path of the character you choose, you uncover their personal connection to Kolcho, the man, the myth, the wound that never healed. Their memories, fears, and loyalties shape the events that unfold, revealing how one life can ripple through many others. Piece by piece, the four perspectives form a mosaic of a world on the edge, where every choice echoes and every truth has a shadow. [[MAKE A CHOICE]]

Four voices echo through the story you are about to enter. Each carries their own memories, fears, and truths. Each has witnessed the same world from a different angle. To begin, you must choose who you will become. Your journey will unfold through their eyes, their thoughts, their secrets, their version of events. Once you step into a life, the story will follow the path only they can see. Who will guide you through this tale? <img src="img/characters.png" width="100%"> Play as: [[Play as Gallia|Kolcho Unlocked][$player = "Gallia"]] [[Play as Nell|Kolcho Unlocked][$player = "Nell"]] [[Play as Jimmy|Kolcho Unlocked][$player = "Jimmy"]] [[Play as Johnny|Kolcho Unlocked][$player = "Johnny"]]

You have unlocked Kolcho. The story of Kolcho. A mystery man. <<link "Continue">> <<if $player == "Gallia">> <<goto "I am Gallia">> <<elseif $player == "Nell">> <<goto "I am Nell">> <<elseif $player == "Jimmy">> <<goto "I am Jimmy">> <<elseif $player == "Johnny">> <<goto "I am Johnny">> <</if>> <</link>>

[[Kolcho Unlocked]]

I am Gallia. That is not my first name. It is the one that stayed when everything else peeled off. I was born east of places people pretend not to remember. During Perestroika, when money learned how to disappear and adults learned how to lie without blinking. We grew up fast because the alternative was being eaten by time. I learned early what things cost. Not prices. Costs. Men think this makes you hard. It doesn’t. It makes you precise. [[I learned to measure people]] [[I learned to measure exits]] [[I learned not to measure at all]]

I moved to this town because it does not ask questions. It sits in on itself like a secret it forgot to keep. One main street. One bank. One bar pretending to be three. Houses that look relieved when nothing happens. People wave. People watch. They do not interfere. This is a place where lives slow down enough to be examined. Or stolen. I rented a small place near the edge. Close enough to belong. Far enough to leave quickly. [[I came to disappear]] [[I came to rest]] [[I came because it was cheap]]

I met Nell’s husband once a month. Insurance assessor. Gray face. Careful shoes. A man shaped like paperwork. He is not ugly. He is not handsome. He is nothing. Which is sometimes better. He pays my bills. I cook. We speak about neutral things. Weather. Repairs. Time. When he leaves, the air improves. That is all. [[I don’t think about him]] [[I think about the money]] [[I think about Nell]]

Jimmy Scattanni does not belong here. He arrives like a mistake that learned confidence. Jacket too good for the room. Smile like he knows something the rest of us agreed to forget. He sees me immediately. Of course he does. Jimmy speaks in futures. Plans. Contingencies. He makes everything sound temporary, including morality. Being with him feels like standing next to an exit you didn’t know existed. [[I step closer]] [[I keep my distance]] [[I watch him watch me]]

The idea is stupid. That’s why it works. The bank is old. The systems are older. Everyone knows it. Nobody fixes it because nobody wants to admit it. Jimmy says it’s just for fun. Pocket money. A gesture. I agree because I understand gestures. They are rarely harmless. [[This is play]] [[This is rehearsal]] [[This is theft]]

We go after the party. The town is drunk on itself. Lights sloppy. Music leaking out of places it doesn’t belong. Bob comes with us. Security manager. He jokes too much. That should have been a sign. Inside the bank, everything feels soft. Yielding. Like it wants to be touched. The party leaves behind a smell. Sweet alcohol. Warm money. Cheap confidence. The bank is quieter than it should be. Old buildings remember things. Bob unlocks the door like he’s done this in his sleep. Jimmy doesn’t look back. I follow because stopping would mean thinking. Money waits patiently. We take it. [[I touch it first]] [[I let Jimmy go first]] [[I watch Bob]]

We are almost out when the air changes. A man steps forward. Masked. Still. Bob raises his weapon. Then the sound happens. Not loud. Not human. A growl that presses against the room like a memory with teeth. Jimmy shouts RUN. We don’t argue. We never argue with instincts that old. [[I freeze]] [[I follow Jimmy]] [[I don’t look back]]

I can’t explain it. The way the sound sits. The way the space bends around him. It reminds me of Little Johnny. The boy who learned early how to disappear in plain sight. I tell Jimmy. He laughs first. Then he doesn’t. [[I want him to believe me]] [[I want him to laugh]] [[I want him to be afraid]]

We find him later. No mask. No weapon. Just a man standing wrong in the world. The money is heavy between us. The silence heavier. This is where stories split. Not cleanly. Never cleanly. [[I speak first]] [[I wait]] [[I watch him breathe]]

We leave. The town keeps breathing like nothing happened. Money does what money always does. Sometimes I think about the sound. Sometimes I don’t. Survival is not a moral position. It is a habit. This is the version I can live with. [[THE AUTHOR]]

We stay. Not because it makes sense. Because none of us can explain what happens if we don’t. The house fills with noise. With tension. With something like peace, if peace were dangerous. Families are just crimes that lasted long enough to rename themselves. This is the version I survived. [[THE AUTHOR]]

I know what someone is worth before they open their mouth. [[I moved to]]

I know where to go when the room turns. [[I moved to]]

I survived by refusing to calculate. [[I moved to]]

Small places are good at swallowing women. [[I met him]]

I was tired of countries with opinions. [[I met him]]

Romantic reasons are for people with savings. [[I met him]]

He is a transaction with a pulse. [[My Jimmy]]

Money doesn’t ask questions. [[My Jimmy]]

Well...Every arrangement has collateral. [[My Jimmy]]

Danger is warmer up close. [[We rob the bank for fun]]

Admiration works best from across the room. [[We rob the bank for fun]]

Men like him need mirrors. [[We rob the bank for fun]]

We are adults pretending to be stupid. [[The night of the robbery]]

Everything important is practiced. [[The night of the robbery]]

Naming things correctly keeps you alive. [[The night of the robbery]]

To feel if it’s real. [[The growl unlocked]]

This was his fantasy. [[The growl unlocked]]

Men with guns always tell the truth. [[The growl unlocked]]

Stillness has saved me before. [[I think I know who it is]]

Momentum is a kind of belief. [[I think I know who it is]]

Some faces should remain unconfirmed. [[I think I know who it is]]

Recognition is power. [[We find him]]

Fear spreads faster when dismissed. [[We find him]]

Men like him understand only pressure. [[We find him]]

Silence invites ownership. [[We take the money]] [[We stay]]

People reveal themselves when given time. [[We take the money]] [[We stay]]

Proof of life is enough. [[We take the money]] [[We stay]]

Something goes wrong before anything happens. Not noise. Not movement. Order. The room loses its agreement with itself. Distances feel unreliable. Corners hesitate. The air thickens, like it’s remembering a rule it forgot to enforce. You feel it in your throat first. A pressure. A wrongness. As if your body has been selected for a task it doesn’t understand. This isn’t fear yet. Fear comes later. This is recognition without context. The kind animals have when they stop pretending the forest is neutral. Time stretches. Not dramatically. Indifferently. You are suddenly aware of how close everything is. How thin the idea of safety always was. Whatever you thought this was money fun theft a joke with consequences it isn’t that anymore. Something has been unlocked. Not a door. A memory. Not yours. And it is about to use you to announce itself. [[We run]]

Accidental authorship, or: how nothing becomes legend I was never meant to be impressive. That sounds like self-pity. It isn’t. It’s logistics. People like me survive because we don’t register as threats. We blend into furniture. Background noise. The third man in a story that needs two. I learned early that being overlooked is a skill. [[I choose to stay quiet]] Silence is camouflage. [[I make myself useful]] People tolerate tools. [[I try to observe]] Someone should remember this.

People think confidence is loud. It isn’t. Confidence is quiet because it already ran the numbers. I don’t dominate rooms. I arrange them. By the time someone feels impressed, the outcome has been decided. [[I plan three moves ahead]] Surprises are for amateurs. [[I let people think they chose]] Agency is decorative. [[I trust probability]] Patterns outperform instinct.

I used to be smaller. People forget that. They think I arrived like this. Loud. Angular. Difficult. They don’t remember the woman who learned early that silence doesn’t protect you. It just makes you easier to step over. I learned to take up space because no one ever offered me any. I learned to speak first because waiting felt like drowning politely. They call me aggressive. I call it accurate. [[I learned to raise my voice]] Soft women disappear. [[I learned to watch people closely]] You can predict damage. [[I learned to endure]] Endurance looks like anger from the outside.

Endurance looks like anger from the outside. Inside, it’s maintenance. [[I married him]]

Soft women disappear. I decided early not to. [[I married him]]

You can predict damage. You just have to be willing to look. [[I married him]]

He wasn’t impressive. That was the appeal. Men like him don’t leave. They don’t explode. They don’t demand applause. He listened. Or seemed to. I mistook that for safety. [[I chose stability]] Passion burns houses down. [[I chose someone who needed me]] Dependence feels like loyalty. [[I chose before I knew better]] Timing ruins everything.

Passion burns houses down. I wanted walls. [[The life we built]]

Dependence feels like loyalty. It also stays put. [[The life we built]]

Timing ruins everything. Including good intentions. [[The life we built]]

Life happened the way it always does. Incrementally. Invisibly. Bills. Children. Furniture that never quite matches the walls. Dreams packed away “for later” until later becomes embarrassing to mention. People say marriage is compromise. What they mean is erosion. [[I held everything together]] Someone had to. [[I watched myself disappear]] Quietly. Efficiently. [[I blamed him]] Resentment needs a direction.

Someone had to. It was never going to be him. [[The other woman]]

Quietly. Efficiently. No one noticed the missing parts. [[The other woman]]

Resentment needs a direction. Otherwise it turns inward. [[The other woman]]

I knew before I knew. There’s a smell to betrayal. Not sex. Secrecy. She didn’t take him. He handed himself over like loose change. Still, I memorised her without meaning to. [[I hate her]] It’s easier than hating him. [[I pity her]] She doesn’t know what she’s buying. [[I hate myself]] Recognition hurts worse.

It’s easier than hating him. Hate needs a target that can’t argue back. [[Jimmy's name]]

She doesn’t know what she’s buying. I did. [[Jimmy's name]]

Recognition hurts worse. It means I saw it coming. [[Jimmy's name]]

Jimmy Scattanni. Even saying it feels like inviting mold into the house. Men like him don’t ruin lives directly. They offer shortcuts and let gravity finish the job. My husband said the name like it was hope. That’s when I knew we were already in trouble. [[I forbid it]] Lines still matter. [[I mock it]] Ridicule deflates fantasy. [[I feel afraid]] Fear arrives before evidence.

Lines still matter. Someone has to draw them. [[The foreclosure letter]]

Ridicule deflates fantasy. Sometimes that’s enough. [[The foreclosure letter]]

Fear arrives before evidence. I’ve learned to listen to it. [[The foreclosure letter]]

The letter arrives without drama. No sirens. No apologies. Just numbers pretending to be polite. Ten days to stop being people. [[I panic]] This is how it ends. [[I get angry]] Someone caused this. [[I go numb]] Feeling won’t help.

This is how it ends. Not with violence. With math. [[The fight]]

Someone caused this. I intend to find them. [[The fight]]

Feeling won’t help. Function might. [[The fight]]

I scream because silence hasn’t worked so far. I say things I’ve been storing for years. Inventory spills everywhere. He looks small when cornered. That scares me more than rage. [[I demand a solution]] Fix it. Now. [[I threaten]] Desperation needs leverage. [[I dare him]] Say it out loud.

Fix it. Now. Excuses don’t count. [[The plan]]

Desperation needs leverage. I inventory what I still control. [[The plan]]

Say it out loud. Let’s hear how it sounds. [[The plan]]

When he mentions the bank, I laugh. Then I don’t. Old buildings. Broken alarms. Christmas parties. It’s stupid. Which makes it tempting. [[I shut it down]] We’re not criminals. [[I let it exist]] Thoughts don’t rob banks. [[I help]] Control requires involvement.

We’re not criminals. I refuse to become one by proximity. [[Waiting]]

Thoughts don’t rob banks. Actions do. [[Waiting]]

Control requires involvement. I don’t trust chaos unsupervised. [[Waiting]]

I stay in the car. Engines running feel like prayers. Waiting is a discipline. I am very good at it. [[I imagine prison]] Preparation masquerading as realism. [[I imagine escape]] Hope dressed as logistics. [[I imagine nothing]] Nothing is safest.

Preparation masquerading as realism. If I picture it, it can’t surprise me. [[They run]]

Hope dressed as logistics. Maps instead of prayers. [[They run]]

Nothing is safest. Nothing can’t disappoint me. [[They run]]

They come back wrong. Breathing too fast. Eyes too wide. Money smells different than I expected. [[I ask questions]] Details anchor reality. [[I don’t ask]] Survival prefers ignorance. [[I notice the silence]] Something followed them.

Details anchor reality. Without them, stories lie. [[The growl from a distance]]

Survival prefers ignorance. So does sleep. [[The growl from a distance]]

Something followed them. Silence always does. [[The growl from a distance]]

I didn’t hear it. That bothers me. I saw the aftermath instead. Men shaken out of their mythology. Micro-choices [[I believe them]] Fear doesn’t fake well. [[I doubt them]] Men exaggerate. [[I feel relieved]] Whatever it was, it worked.

Fear doesn’t fake well. Neither do shaken men. [[Aftermath]]

Men exaggerate. Especially when mythology cracks. [[Aftermath]]

Whatever it was, it worked. That’s enough for now. [[Aftermath]]

Money solves problems until it creates new ones. We move. We rise. We perform gratitude convincingly. People call it reinvention. Micro-choices [[I embrace it]] Finally. [[I tolerate it]] For the boys. [[I resent it]] Nothing was fixed.

Finally. Forward motion without apologies. [[The new me]]

For the boys. Not everything is about me anymore. [[The new me]]

Nothing was fixed. It was just rearranged. [[The new me]]

They tell the story wrong. They talk about bravery. About fate. About monsters. No one mentions the part where everyone was already trapped. I don’t correct them. Myths are useful. [[I protect the lie]] Truth destabilizes. [[I reshape it]] I control the narrative. [[I let it rot]] Some stories collapse on their own.

Truth destabilizes. Stability feeds families. [[THE AUTHOR]]

I control the narrative. Someone always does. [[THE AUTHOR]]

Some stories collapse on their own. I don’t interfere. [[THE AUTHOR]]

Surprises are just math you refused to do. [[ORIGINS]]

Freedom feels better when it’s staged. [[ORIGINS]]

Patterns don’t panic. [[ORIGINS]]

I grew up surrounded by men who explained failure loudly. Wrong language. Wrong country. Wrong luck. I listened instead. Listening teaches you where leverage hides. [[I learned early]] Speed matters. [[I learned quietly]] Visibility attracts problems. [[I learned from mistakes]] Other people’s.

Speed beats righteousness every time. [[NETWORK]]

Visibility is an expense I never approved. [[NETWORK]]

Other people pay tuition so I don’t have to. [[NETWORK]]

People like to imagine power as hierarchy. It isn’t. It’s circulation. Money. Favors. Silence. You move them correctly, nothing clots. [[I reward loyalty]] Reliability compounds. [[I reward usefulness]] Sentiment doesn’t scale. [[I reward timing]] The right person too early is a liability.

Sentiment rots. Function endures. [[GALLIA]]

Precision matters more than enthusiasm. [[GALLIA]]

Gallia understands value. That’s rare. She doesn’t confuse attention with safety. She doesn’t mistake luxury for stability. She watches. That’s attractive. [[I admire her]] Recognition builds alignment. [[I collect her]] Assets require maintenance. [[I underestimate her]] Everyone miscalculates eventually.

She sees value without reaching for it. [[LITTLE JOHNNY]]

Proximity sharpens leverage. [[LITTLE JOHNNY]]

Efficiency breeds blind spots. [[LITTLE JOHNNY]]

Johnny exists on the margins of decisions. Useful. Men like him don’t interfere. They absorb pressure and call it fate. I didn’t discard him. I filed him away. [[He’s harmless]] Background noise. [[He’s desperate]] Volatility risk. [[He’s irrelevant]] Statistical zero.

Men like him dissolve into scenery. [[The town]]

Pressure makes him predictable. [[The town]]

Noise without consequence. [[The town]]

Small towns are efficient. Everyone knows everyone. Secrets move faster. Corruption here isn’t ambitious. It’s bored. [[This is temporary]] Everything is. [[This is strategic]] Geography matters. [[This is beneath me]] Still useful.

Everything local pretends it isn’t. [[The bank idea]]

Small maps reveal large patterns. [[The bank idea]]

Utility doesn’t require dignity. [[The bank idea]]

The bank is old. Old systems fail politely. They don’t scream. Bob mentioned the alarm once. Once is enough. [[This is trivial]] Low-risk, low-reward. [[This is amusing]] Play sharpens teams. [[This is inevitable]] Someone would do it eventually.

Old systems fail with manners. [[THE NIGHT]]

Competence needs exercise. [[THE NIGHT]]

Neglect always invites someone smarter. [[THE NIGHT]]

The party creates cover. People confuse noise with chaos. They forget structure survives intoxication. Gallia moves like she understands this. [[I lead]] Coordination prevents panic. [[I observe]] Data collection opportunity. [[I enjoy it]] Rare indulgence.

Order survives excess. [[Inside the bank]]

Intoxication loosens truths. [[Inside the bank]]

Control is a private pleasure. [[Inside the bank]]

Everything works. That’s the most dangerous part. Bob is calm. Gallia is focused. No anomalies detected. [[I relax]] Confidence justified. [[I stay alert]] Systems fail late. [[I feel bored]] Repetition dulls risk.

Nothing argues with success. [[The interruption]]

Failure prefers patience. [[The interruption]]

Routine dulls instinct. [[The interruption]]

Something registers. Not alarm. Not threat. A deviation. The room feels… misfiled. [[I look for the source]] Everything has one. [[I signal retreat]] Abort early. [[I dismiss it]] False positives waste time.

Every deviation has a spine. [[The growl as it is]]

False alarms waste attention. [[The growl as it is]]

The sound doesn’t make sense. That’s the problem. It isn’t aggressive. It isn’t random. It’s… declarative. Like a variable I never accounted for. [[I really panic]] Unacceptable. [[I freeze at once]] System overload. [[I shout RUN]] Damage control.

Authority defaults to survival. [[We escape]]

This variable has no column. [[We escape]]

The system rejects the input. [[We escape]]

We escape. The operation succeeds by failing. Money recovered. Control compromised. I don’t like not knowing. [[I investigate]] Unknowns metastasize. [[I move on]] Attachment creates exposure. [[I rewrite the narrative]] Perception stabilizes markets.

Ignorance spreads if untreated. [[The new Jimmy]]

Attachment slows circulation. [[The new Jimmy]]

Stability is a story told convincingly. [[The new Jimmy]]

People talk about the growl like it was a monster. That comforts them. Monsters are external. Monsters can be hunted. I know better. Some disruptions aren’t threats. They’re corrections. [[I respect it]] Adaptive systems survive. [[I deny it]] Outliers don’t define models. [[I prepare for it]] Next time, I’ll be ready.

Correction beats collapse. [[THE AUTHOR]]

Models don’t kneel easily. [[THE AUTHOR]]

Next time, the anomaly gets a file. [[THE AUTHOR]]

People tolerate tools. They only resent them when they stop working. [[The past with Jimmy]]

Silence is camouflage. If I don’t move, no one assigns me a role. [[The past with Jimmy]]

Someone should remember this. I don’t trust anyone else to. [[The past with Jimmy]]

Jimmy was always faster than me. Smarter, too. At least on paper. I mistook proximity for importance. I thought standing near him meant I mattered. It didn’t. [[I admired him]] Power looks like purpose. [[I feared him]] Some people bend gravity. [[I resented him]] Quietly. Ineffectively.

I admire him because admiration is cheaper than courage. He moves. Things happen. I watch and call it proximity to greatness. [[The life I chose]]

I compare. This is where the math always breaks. He becomes inevitable. I become explanatory. And I fear him. [[The life I chose]]

I resent him quietly. That way it doesn’t count. I tell myself resentment is insight in disguise. [[The life I chose]]

I did what you’re supposed to do. College. Marriage. Children. Work that doesn’t follow you home but never leaves your head either. People call that success. I call it inertia with paperwork. [[I accepted it]] Resistance takes energy. [[I regret it]] Too late feels familiar. [[I don’t think about it]] Thinking invites collapse.

Resistance takes energy. I conserve mine for emergencies that never come. [[My Nell]]

Too late feels familiar. It arrives quietly and stays forever. [[My Nell]]

Thinking invites collapse. I keep things standing by not touching them. [[My Nell]]

Nell sees everything. That’s not comforting. She doesn’t miss details. She collects them. Files them away. Uses them later. I love her. I’m afraid of her. These things coexist poorly. [[I rely on her]] Strength outsourced. [[I disappoint her]] Consistently. [[I provoke her]] Attention is attention.

Strength outsourced. She carries the weight so I don’t have to admit I can’t. [[My Gallia]]

Consistently. At least she knows what to expect. [[My Gallia]]

Attention is attention. Silence feels worse than blame. [[My Gallia]]

Gallia doesn’t belong here. Not because she’s foreign. Because she’s intentional. She looks at me like a temporary solution. Which, to be fair, I am. [[I idealise her]] Escape fantasy. [[I reduce her to money]] Simpler. [[I feel ashamed]] Appropriate.

I give her a backstory. It’s kinder than learning the real one. Also easier to survive. [[The need for money]]

I pay. I wait. I call it devotion because that sounds less transactional. [[The need for money]]

I avoid the math. Money in. Affection out. Numbers ruin stories. I don't think of Nell. It saves my sanity. [[The need for money]]

Need is a slow animal. It doesn’t roar. It whispers logistics. Rent. School. Repairs. Eventually, it convinces you that morality is flexible under pressure. [[I rationalise it]] Everyone does. [[I panic seriously]] I am not built for this. [[I delay it]] Later might fix itself.

I imagine an out. Not a plan. A cutscene. Something interrupts. Something saves me. [[The big idea]]

I blame the system. It deserves it. So do I, but systems can’t argue back. [[The big idea]]

I panic internally. Externally, I rehearse calm. I’ve always believed panic is fine as long as nobody sees it. [[The big idea]]

The idea arrives fully formed. That’s how bad ideas work. They skip doubt. I tell myself it’s temporary. That it’s not who I am. As if actions need your permission to define you. [[I commit]] No half-measures. [[I hesitate]] Hesitation counts as morality. [[I dissociate]] This feels unreal.

I research everything. Alarms. Timings. Probability. I do not research myself. I am commited. [[The big night]]

Ifeel clever. That feeling is doing most of the work now. [[The big night]]

I try to ignore fear. It doesn’t protest. It waits. [[The big night]]

The mask feels ridiculous. Which is good. If it felt right, I’d be worried. Inside the bank, my thoughts scatter. I focus on tasks. Movements. Not consequences. [[I follow instructions]] Obedience feels safe. [[I improvise]] Desperation breeds creativity. [[I freeze internally]] Outwardly functional.

I expect failure. That way, if I survive, it feels like talent. Let the others take the lead. [[The moment before]]

I scan the room for roles. Villain. Ally. Witness. I do not find “author.” [[The moment before]]

I freeze. My body disagrees with the story I rehearsed. This feels unfair. [[The moment before]]

There’s a pause. The kind you only recognize afterward. Everything feels… staged. Like I stepped into the wrong version of my life. [[I ignore it]] Overthinking kills momentum. [[I brace myself]] For what, exactly? [[I think of nothing]] Blankness as refuge.

Overthinking kills momentum. So does stopping. [[Am I the growl]]

For what, exactly? Fear is easier when it stays vague. [[Am I the growl]]

Blankness as refuge. If there’s no thought, there’s no fault. [[Am I the growl]]

The sound comes out of me. That’s the part people get wrong. I didn’t decide. I didn’t summon anything. My body acted without consulting the narrative I keep about myself. The sound isn’t loud. It’s final. [[I don’t understand]] This wasn’t me. [[I feel powerful]] Briefly. [[I feel deeply ashamed]] Immediately.

You try to shape it. It ignores you. The sound does not care who you think you are. [[FAMILY ESCAPE]]

I don’t stop it. I don’t guide it. Later I describe this as instinct. [[FAMILY ESCAPE]]

They scatter. Not from me. From what they think I am. I let them. [[I stay silent]] Explanations ruin things. [[I pretend this was intentional]] I control the story. [[I flee]] My specialty.

I leave myself briefly. When I come back, people are afraid. Not of me. Of what they think I am. Yet, I feel ashamed. I don't know why. [[FAMILY ESCAPE]]

Explanations ruin things. Misunderstanding is safer. [[The end]]

I control the story. At least the version I tell myself. [[The end]]

My specialty. It’s how I remain intact. [[The end]]

Everyone tells the story differently. I listen. That’s how I learn what I’ve become. [[I correct nothing]] Myths stabilise. [[I adjust details]] Harmless edits. [[I might believe them]] Maybe they know better.

I take it as it is. Then I downplay it. Luck. Timing. Mistake. I do not examine why it worked. [[The new Johnny]]

I rewrite it. That’s when it starts writing back. [[The new Johnny]]

I mythologise immediately. I give the moment a name. Names make accidents portable. [[The new Johnny]]

They named it. That’s the part that scares me. Once something has a name, it starts behaving like it deserves one. I wasn’t brave. I wasn’t chosen. I was loud at the wrong moment. And now the story won’t let me leave. [[I accept the myth]] It explains things. [[I reject it]] Too late. [[I stay quiet]] Silence again.

I almost believe it was me. Almost. That belief will cost me later. I claim the credit. [[THE AUTHOR]]

I deny responsibility. Authorship slips through the gap. It does not leave. [[THE AUTHOR]]

I feel watched. Not judged. Edited. For the first time, it occurs to me that survival might not mean escape. It might mean publication. [[THE AUTHOR]]

I thought telling the story would protect me. That if I kept the words orderly, the events would stay where I put them. But stories don’t preserve. They recruit. I recognise the sentences now. Not because I wrote them, but because they’re using my voice. The growl wasn’t a sound. It was the moment something realised it could speak through me. Every time I explain it, it gets cleaner. Sharper. More convincing. That’s how it spreads. I understand now. I was never the author. I was the formatting. The story doesn’t end. It stabilises. [[ENTER]] Tell it again [[ENTER]] Clarify what really happened [[ENTER]] Fix the misunderstanding [[Kolcho the Growling Dog]] Stay silent and quit

Consistency is rarer than talent. [[GALLIA]]

Preservation outranks pride. [[The growl as it is]]

They say he might look like that: <img src="img/Kolcho.png" width="50%"> No one ever agreed on where Kolcho came from. Only that he arrived already finished. People said he learned the world the wrong way around. That he knew hierarchy before language. Hunger before mercy. The kind of education that leaves no room for illusion. Some swore he’d been raised by dogs. Others laughed at that, then stopped laughing when they heard the sound he made before violence. Not a word. Not a threat. A warning older than fear, pulled straight from the throat of something evolution forgot to civilise. Kolcho didn’t kill to rule. He killed to correct. Structures. Networks. Men who mistook confidence for immunity. Jimmy Scattanni had built an empire on the belief that nothing truly hunted him. Kolcho was the proof that belief itself can be fatal. By the time people noticed the pattern, it was already tradition. By the time they named him, he was already gone. Some legends want to be remembered. Kolcho was never one of them.