<< < Previously

Ivan cleared his throat, a sudden explosion breaking the solemn silence of Cell Block D for Doggies. "No, miss, this's a first fr'us too. We think it's 'cause of our latest guest. She was a bit er... annoyed... when we first got'er." He sounded almost... embarrassed.

I whuffed softly. 'Annoyed.' Right. That'd be me. The new arrival, in the heavily reinforced, artfully deformed cage. Call me Barksy.

"Latest guest?" The lilting voice approached. A charmed gasp. "Oh, look, she's trying to push her ball through the bars! How cute!"

Yep. Figured right the first time. Gods damn it. Another customer looking for a miniature cloud that matched her outfit after all. An inexplicable shiver of disappointment ran down my spine, and I let my ears droop. Please, just get it over with quickly so I can go back to sulking in silence, all right?

"Why is she do— oh, my."

The reverent in-drawn breath made my ears perk up again.
Maybe... just maybe... maybe I was wrong.

"Is this the one you were talking about? Your latest guest?" the woman asked, clothes rustling as she crouched down.

I could hear Ivan's sweat glands suddenly go into overdrive. Heh.

"Ah, er, yes, miss, but ya don't wanna get so close to'er." he stammered, probably remembering what I did to his brother. "The police brought'er in. She's dangerous."

Dangerous. If only he knew.

Except I didn't feel very dangerous at the moment. I mostly felt alone, adrift and incredibly depressed.

Two fingertips hesitated, hovered for a long time... then touched my tail. Softly. Tentatively. "Hey there, sleeping beauty." the woman whispered. "Are you dangerous? You just look sad to me."

I blinked away a sudden, unexpected tear at the... profound understanding in her voice. Shadows of a deeply buried pain. Someone lived with her own sadness, it seemed.

"Come on, let me get a look at you." she cajoled. "I promise I won't bite."

There was something about her voice, the warmth that radiated from her, that drew me like a flower yearning for the sun. I turned my head to look at her. Both our mouths dropped open, and we just stared at each other. Entranced. Unable to look away.

"You really are gorgeous. And those golden eyes... Come here, girl." the stranger implored, for that was who she was. Never seen her before in my life, no matter how... familiar she still felt. I'd definitely have remembered her. Still, I couldn't help myself.

I was gorgeous? Lady, if I looked like you, people would've probably thrown me a parade every fucking day of my gods-damned life.

Where I — at least in my human form — was a non-descript brown-skinned, brown-haired short-arse most people remembered because of my unique, colourful vocabulary and propensity to dish out pain, the young twentysomething woman on the other side of the bars looked like an ancient statue come to life. A goddess descended among mortals to grace us with her presence. Every part of her was perfectly formed, and her fiery mane framed her finely sculpted features like an exclamation point. She glowed.

I was aware my tongue was hanging out, but I didn't care. She was breath-taking, almost achingly so, and it suddenly became incredibly important that I made a good first impression. Rising, I turned around to face her and sat back on my haunches, giving her a paw, much to her delight.

Silver bells of tinkling laughter rang out, and she cooed at me. "I knew you weren't going to bite me. Can I pet you?" she asked, gesturing with her other hand. Showing it to me first. Letting me get a good look at it. Sniff it. Letting me take the final step. Close the distance.

Bending my head, I pushed it against her digits, letting her scratch my head and neck. I had to close my eyes at the utter bliss that suffused me, spread into every corner of my being. Oh. So that's why dogs and cats loved getting scritches. Now I could see the appeal.

"You really are a good girl, aren't you? I bet you were just scared after waking up in this nasty cage, weren't you?" she breathed, looking up at Ivan, who was staring at me as if he'd never seen me before.

Suck it, comrade, I thought smugly as I leaned fully into the attention this magnificent goddess was giving me, lapping it up. Wagging my tail for the first time since I'd gotten it. Man, that felt amazing. The first ray of sunshine to grace me since the universe decided to kick me while I was down... two days ago? Three, maybe? I'd lost track of time for a bit, there. The first in... much longer than that, really, if I was honest. I loved the crew — well, most of them — but my life with them definitely hadn't been an endless Happy Hour.

All too soon, she stopped using both hands to pet me, and I whined softly at the loss, leaning into the last two digits that were still idly scratching under my chin, as if she'd forgotten she was doing it.

"What'll happen to her?" intoxicating mystery lady asked Ivan, and the pound employee shrugged.

"Cops found'er wanderin' where she weren't s'posed t'be, and she don't 'ave a collar, so..." Another, slightly more sinister shrug. "It'll prob'ly depend on if they still need'er for somethin'. Was some kinda crime scene, they say."

Crime scene? Shit, the others! Please let everyone be okay.

Apparently deciding I'd finally turned into a lapdog, Ivan stuck his hand between the bars – and immediately stopped when I let him know with a low, toothy rumble that yes, while I was okay with this heavenly apparition touching me, if he kept going, he was going to lose that hand.

She asked, fucker. You didn't.
It's called consent, look it up.

As soon as he pulled the offending limb back, I subsided and went back to enjoying the very welcome visitor's very welcome attention.

Wait a sec.

I blinked and focused on her again. Come to think of it, she hadn't even flinched when I started growling at Ivan, or stopped scritching me. Maybe... Maybe I could initiate the incredibly vague plan I'd been brooding over.

Step 1: Get a human to take me home.
Step 2: ???
Step 3: Become human again myself.

Not the greatest plan, admittedly, or the most fleshed out, but maybe I could at least accomplish the first step. Get out of here. I just had to get her to get with the program, somehow. And even if I had to stay with her, locked in this form for the rest of my life... things could be a lot worse, right? Because whatever the cops had in store for me probably wasn't pleasant. Or good for my continued health.

Wait, what the hell was I thinking?

I didn't want to stay a 'dog', I wanted to be human again! I was going to find a way to become human again! But... part of me had to admit... that I wouldn't really mind it that much if I ended up being her dog.

Whoa. Let's put that thought away for now and unpack and examine it later, okay?

"Poor thing. Does that mean she'll be stuck in here until they don't need her anymore?" the stranger asked and Ivan eyed me warily before replying, keeping his distance.

"No, miss. If we knew who'er owners were, we'd call'em to come pick'er up, but we couldn't find a collar or a chip..."

Yeah, and hadn't that been a fun time all around?

The man of many shrugs gave us one that dared to insinuate I was a stray, a filthy street dog. Okay, he was sort of right, but still... Rude much?

My potential saviour was already shaking her head. "No, no, just look at her, look at how glossy her coat is. How clean she is." she countered, running her fingers along my flank.

Yeah, bro, look at my pretty, shiny coat, I thought smugly, rumbling contentedly.

"She can't be a stray. I'm sure her family is worried sick about her." the visitor decided, nodding, before adding a softer "I know I would be if she was mine."

Yes! She really likes me!

I was giddy, butt squirming on the concrete. Okay, now we just needed to make the actual plan happen. Well, I did, but I was going to need some help. Unfortunately, conveying complex concepts is something dogs and wolves aren't really known for — except on TV, of course... and I was fresh out of old wells. Or kids to push into them.

If I didn't pull this off, she'd leave, and I'd be all alone in here again with only the two stooges and my canine supplicants for company... until whatever dark fate awaited dangerous strays the police had no use for would befall me.

It became imperative that I got her to take me with her when she left... but how?

"We jus' gotta wait'n'see." One more shrug for the road, and Ivan squared his shoulders, reaching down to help his visitor to her feet again.

No, no, no! Damn it, I was so close! She was my best shot! Probably my only shot!

Don't do this to me, you big brute, or the next time you come near me, I will bite you! I tried to send telepathically, but of course, failed abysmally. Wrong species. On both sides.

If only I'd been Anushka... Of course, if I'd been Anushka, I wouldn't be in here in the first place. I wondered where she was right now, and hoped she and the others were okay. Even Jens...

But then, bless his moustache, the pound employee threw me a metaphorical bone. "After the default waiting period, she'll..."

Yes! My name! Or... close enough!

I barked twice, pushing my nose against the visitor's leg. She jumped, crouching back down to stroke my head.

Ivan cleared his throat and frowned at me. "Like I said, she'll..."

Bark! Bark! Dog, motherfucker, do you speak it?

"Is that your name, girl? Shel?"

Yeah, sure. You can call me whatever you want, goddess. Just get me out of here!

I pushed against her hand and barked again, happily licking her fingers, eliciting more giggles. The joyful sound made another seed of warmth bloom in my chest, and I sighed. I had no fucking idea what was going on, but I knew I hadn't felt anywhere close to this since... since the summer when I turned 13, the summer I lost everything.

But no, no time to dwell on that right now. I had a jailbreak to accomplish!

I whined softly and put my paw on her knee, giving her my best attempt at puppy dog eyes, trying not to drown in hers...

Come on, goddess. You and me. What do you say we blow this joint?

<< Previously

I sighed mournfully, not even bothering to look at Princess as she tried to push her little squeaky ball between the bars separating us. Her latest attempt at making me feel better. Ever since I'd woken up in the pound, the other inmates around me had tried to cheer me up with gifts.

Well, at first, the dogs of various shapes and sizes had been puddles-on-the-floor terrified of me as I howled through my rage and threw myself at the walls of my cage when I discovered I was absolutely, completely, utterly... stuck... in my wolf form... but when my frenzied denial died down – thanks in large part to the lovely, lovely drugs the people that ran this place kept shooting me full of that made my tongue taste deliciously purple – and I'd drifted on to the depression stage, my companions in misery'd started to shove things they enjoyed into my tiny canine prison cell.

It was incredibly sweet, but the sad little piles of slobbered-on offerings surrounding me didn't really help with the whole depression thing. Quite the opposite, actually. At least it was quiet, so I could wallow in peace. The respectful, deathly silence that reigned in the kennel was probably freaking out the humans, but it fit my dark mood perfectly.

I had no idea what'd happened — I didn't even really know if I wanted to know what'd happened. If those... things... I'd seen before I passed out were in any way real and not just hallucinations brought on by an increasingly urgent lack of oxygen — In fact, I kinda desperately hoped that was all they'd been, figments conjured up by a misfiring brain gasping for air. You know, so I could sleep at night.

All I wanted — needed — to know was if the others'd gotten out okay.
Couldn't stop worrying about them, despite my own... predicament.

If that disturbing... energy, or force, whatever it was... had somehow locked me in my wolf state, what had it done to them? I could quite easily be mistaken for a dog apparently, and I'd work through that new inferiority complex later, when I found some time in my busy schedule, but the others... Their species weren't quite as cuddly.

Why had it happened, anyway? There shouldn't have been anything even remotely special at the museum that could do something like this... except maybe the stupid antique we'd been hired to steal through Jens.

It was the only thing that made sense, really.
Museum is fine for hundreds of years. We go in, suddenly the world turns to shit.

Fucking Jens. I groaned loudly as I felt a headache coming on. If Jens had caused this, I wouldn't just punch him into next week when I saw him, I'd bite off his damn tail. It was supposed to be a simple smash and grab, so why— A tiny traitor voice whispered that if it had been a simple smash and grab, we wouldn't have had to bring the paint, would we? Another tendril of doubt sank its barbs into me. And why had we brought the damn paint anyway, if it'd just been discarded, left somewhere for security to find?

My impotent self-torture was interrupted by voices at the door, and I swivelled an ear towards them. Were they going to try and force me to eat again? That could be fun. Something to take my mind off things. If Frank hadn't learned his lesson after that first pair of wet pants, I was more than happy to go Big Bad Wolf on him again.

I kept staring at the wall as steel scraped across concrete and two pairs of footsteps made their way into the silent, echoing space, Ivan obviously conducting a guided tour for someone. "... and these're our current guests. Mos'f'em are strays or lost dogs with no eye-dent-i-fi-cay-tion, so we're keepin'em 'ere until their owners come'n lookin' f'r'em, or they find a new 'ome."

Oh. Yawn. Visiting time at the zoo.

Ivan wasn't a bad sort, not like his brother, but I didn't feel like being an exhibit to be gawked at for whomever he was showing around. And I certainly didn't do tricks. Probably someone looking for a cheap handbag accessory like Princess anyway. I lazily snapped my jaws at the fluffy rat and she fell over in shock, before frantically redoubling her efforts to share her toy with me. Silly little hairball.

Besides, I wasn't a stray — technically — or lost, damn it. Or a fucking dog, for that matter. I was human!...ish. Kidnapped! Unjustly incarcerated by The Man! I was just having a moment of... existential uncertainty, that was all. Or rather, too much certainty, of the wrong sort. Unfortunately.

My ear resolutely flicked forward once more. I deliberately closed my eyes and decided to just ignore them until they'd gone away. If you can't see them, the monsters under you bed can't see you either, right? Anyhow, my tongue and nose were still sending very confusing signals, and I'd prefer to come down from my involuntary high in peace, thank you. Nurse the headache.

"Are they always this... quiet?"

The soft, inquisitive voice surprised me, and I cracked one eye open slightly, both ears now going back to tracking my visitors. I... It was strange. I couldn't put my paw on it, but... Something in me knew that voice. Knew... her.

As I danced from paw to paw, whining softly at the old security guard cautiously approaching me, one thought kept running through my mind.

This is so demeaning.

The tubby museum employee slowed and extended his hand, palm stretched out towards me.

"It makes sense, Shal. You're a werewolf, and you're used to being a bitch anyway." I mimicked Jens' earlier snide comment, which in my current form came out as a series of yips and growls that made the guard hesitate.

Of course I'd decked the slimy little snake for it, which had earned me a round of applause and high-fives all around from the rest, but he'd been right, gods damn him. Of all our options, I was the safest one to be the decoy.

The lupine grin that quirked my lips at the sense memory of that deeply satisfying, crunchy impact made the guard scramble back, almost tipping him over on his ass in his haste to get away.

"Good puppy. It's okay. I won't hurt you. How'd you get in here, anyway?" he whispered, gathering his courage and inching closer again.

An involuntary snort escaped me. Puppy. Sure. I might not have been the tallest girl around, but I was still a rather hefty wolf. Something about the conservation of mass or energy or something? Look, I never really paid attention in school, back when I still went. I had other things on my mind. Shopping. Romance. How old people just didn't understand me, especially my parents. You know, the usual.

Back when my life was still normal.
When I was still human.
Before I ended up on the streets.
Was eventually taken in by the crew.

The crew.
I shook my entire body, and if I'd had hands right now, I'd have slapped my cheeks for good measure too.
Focus, Shal. Do your job.

They're depending on you for this heist. You've got to keep this guy away from them. From doing his rounds. Think back to those acting lessons you hated so much, and channel helpless lost little critter that somehow managed to end up deep inside the catacombs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

A few steadying, centering breaths later I was whining and cringing with the best of them, letting the guard get within an inch of grabbing my scruff before playfully dancing away again each time. Despite my protests, I was actually having fun.

Note to self: make sure all security footage is erased, or Anushka will never let me hear the end of it.

I was so focused on acting out my part that I let out a spontaneous little bark when the exasperated guard's walkie crackled to life.

"Stan? Jake here. I've got a broken window at the back, street side. Checking the surroundings. Out."

Crap. The other guard wasn't supposed to be anywhere near our entry point yet. In fact, he was supposed to be taking a nap in the break room, like he always did! What, did he suddenly decide to switch to espresso instead of decaf on the actual night of our heist? Do his job for once?

Stan muttered "Roger." into his mike and bent to look me over, shining his flashlight along my russet flanks, across the floor, babbling more baby talk at me. "Is that how you got in, puppy? I don't see any blood, so maybe you didn't cut yourself..."

More static, bringing with it more bad news. "Jake again. I found a pot of paint that wasn't here when I did my rounds earlier. We've got intruders, possibly vandals. I'm calling the cops. Be careful. Out to you."

Fuckity fuck fuck.

That lazy bastard Jens left the paint out in the open? Why hadn't he taken it with him? Didn't he need it for the sigil? Wasn't that a very important part of the plan? If only I could talk to the others, ask them what the hell was going on... but it was really hard to operate a phone with paws. Not to mention I didn't really have anywhere to put it in the first place.

I was so distraught I hadn't noticed my new playmate Stan sneak up on me. The moment I felt his fingers touch my neck, I yelped and took off down the corridor, away from the direction of the ancient Mesopotamian display. From the others.

When this was all over and we were out of here, I was going to punch that insufferable little snake straight out of his current skin and into the next. If anything happened to my friends...

No, think positive.

That other guard... Jake?... only said he'd found the paint, not that he'd found any intruders. I just had to do my thing, keep Stan busy long enough for the crew to grab the stupid antique and get away clean, then skedaddle myself when I heard the signal, and everything would be all right. Anushka could take care of herself, as could Bruno. Hell, I wouldn't really mind if Jens got caught, since he'd always been a little creep... but if they caught him, he'd probably lead the cops right to us, so I really had no choice but to include him in my quick prayer to any gods that might be listening.

I should have known better, of course.
The gods don't give a damn about me.

I hadn't even made it halfway down the corridor yet when I tasted a sudden change in the air. From one instant to the next, all my fur stood on end, turning me into the poofiest wolf that ever lived. Static electricity sparked off me, and I tried not to yowl in pain as I got zapped time and time again.

Whatever was happening, I was sure of one thing: it was not good.
Okay, okay. Two things.
I was also convinced it was probably Jens' fault, mister "I've got an easy job for us".
Never trust a snake.

I tried to put on another burst of speed, to get away, somehow, out of its range, but it felt like the disturbing energy was suddenly everywhere, permeating the air.

Wrapping itself around me.
Entangling me.
Smothering me.

I decided to round the nearest corner into a side hallway. Try to get out of sight long enough to temporarily change back into my less hairy and hopefully less zappy human form. Sneak into any unlocked room I could find to wait this latest development out while Stan, huffing and puffing, chased after a phantom dog.

Wham. Out of nowhere, an invisible force punched me in the ribs. Hard. All the air in my lungs left me in one choked off gasp as my legs slid out from under me. My paws scrabbled desperately for traction, to try and right myself. Continue my escape. Unfortunately for me, the cleaning crew had waxed the floors earlier in the evening, and I slid all the way to the opposite wall. Slam.

Ow! What the hell was th–

Panic clawed at me as I tried to catch my breath in vain. I felt like an impossible weight was crushing me, pinning me to the floor. My eyes rolled wildly, trying to spot the danger, my attacker, but I couldn't see anything.

What.
The.
Fuck?!

The last thing I saw and heard was Stan finally catching up to me, staring down at me in concern. "Puppy?" he asked, looking deeply confused and worried.

Well, that makes two of us, buddy.

A wave of intense pain rolled over and through me. My bones felt like they were on fire, crumbling to ashes from within. I had no air to scream. Not even to whimper. As my sight dimmed, the world exploded with darkness, veiny coils of... of throbbing wrongness crawling over everything until blessedly, mercifully, I lost consciousness.