Hello My name is Imp
By Asher Tye
Disclaimer: I own not She-Ra, I own not He-Man, I own not the Horde, Hordak, Imp or any of the easily recognized characters. They are not mine and are being used without permission for the purposes of non-profit entertainment.
Author's note: Here it is, one of the many ways I could see Hordak and Imp meeting. I actually have two other scenarios, but I must confess this to be my favorite as it actually falls into the category of a heartwarming Horde story.
Caution: This story flips between two points of view so it might become a little difficult to tell when you're looking at the world through the eyes of Hordak or of Imp.
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A nasty storm had enveloped the Fright Zone, adding to the dreary and unfriendly atmosphere of the Horde stronghold on Etheria. Every so often lightning would strike and illuminate the entire city, reflected off the millions of raindrops that were steadily falling in an almost unbroken sheet of water. It was for this reason that everyone in the Fright Zone who did not have business that required them to go outside was staying inside, with the notable exception of Leech who actually enjoyed the drenching amounts of water falling on him. Those that did have business were busy finding one subordinate or another they could delegate it to.
Inside Malevolence Tower, the inner sanctum wherein the more senior members of the Horde lived, the commanders of Etheria's Horde, with a few exceptions, had sequestered themselves in their own "private" sections of the tower to do whatever it was that villains did to keep themselves from being bored. Shadowweaver, unfazed by the rain thanks to her magic, had taken advantage of the others' temporary imprisonment to go to Horror Hall and work without being bothered by one inane question after another. Mantenna, displaying an uncharacteristic amount of foresight, had foreseen the storm and opted to avoid it by going to his castle, where, if the computer reports were right, he was currently experiencing sunny days with a cool breeze. Perhaps the most prominent absence, though, was that of the Horde General; Hordak, who had been forced to take a trip to a different part of Etheria to stop the formation of a Rebellion cell. Unfortunately, this had been a trip he'd taken without his trusted companion, Imp.
The Hordesman in question was currently sitting in a very dark and somewhat cramped space inside the ventilation system that ran through the tower, setting up what he privately referred to as Good Nest #139, so named because it was the one hundred and thirty-ninth such nest he had created. The reason he had so many was because the ventilation system was so vast and mazelike that Imp was not often able to remember where the other nests were once he left them. Good Nest #1 was, of course, the small closet/room he held near the heart of Malevolence Tower where he lived, slept, and basically did whatever he wanted. But, every so often, the young boy found the urge to be somewhere no one would be able to find him. Maybe it was for protection, maybe it was for privacy, maybe imps were simply nomadic and this was instinct; the pig-faced monster had never really thought to question the behavior. Hordak allowed it because it served a practical purpose. As long as the other Hordesmen knew Imp was running free in the vents, they were a lot less bold in any treacherous plans they might make to unseat Hordak.
The sound of thunder rang through the tower and for a brief moment Imp stopped in his work and listened to the sound of the rain as it struck the metal shell of the tower. He loved the rain, in spite of himself. Not being out in it mind you; wet wings didn't fly so well and he'd have been bogged down in no time if he tried to move through it. No, what Imp loved about the rain was to listen to it, to the steady sound it made as it struck surfaces and slid down. Even inside the walls of the tower, Imp's sensitive ears could pick up the rhythmic vibrations. His yellow eyes closed as he slowly remembered…
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His body was quivering. Not from the cold of the night air, though that might have been a factor for anyone else, but from the sight and smell that lay before him. A massive dumpster sat half-filled with aromatic goodies that were at least a full month old, though the cooling weather would have slowed down to decaying process. The child knew this because he had been coming to this dumpster to eat nightly for about three weeks and, unlike the many other dumpsters he had visited in his short life, this one had yet to be emptied by the awful men in white. This, of course, meant that he was able find much more suitably rotten foodstuffs here than anywhere else, and that was the way he liked it.
The "child" was actually a rather interesting curiosity. Anyone who looked at him might have easily mistaken him for some form of animal, particularly given the more ethnocentric atmosphere present on Hordeworld. Smooth, light-blue skin covered a small, almost doll-size body that stood upright on two feet that ended in dark-blue hooves. Three clawless fingers on each hand dexterously reached into the open dumpster and scrapped some of the greasy scum from the side, depositing the filth in a small mouth framed by two sharp looking fangs that glistened in the light of the moon like polished ivory. The fangs extended out of an upper jaw that had actually merged with the bottom of a small snout that vaguely resembled a pig's. Large, gleeful eyes blinked in delight at the noxious taste that filled his mouth while the even larger bat-like ears that framed his head twitched and turned as they made sure nothing was sneaking up on their owner. Between the ears a puff of messy, dark-blue hair can be seen, greasy and tangled from being unkempt. Perhaps the oddest thing about the creature, though, was the third pair of limbs that extended from his back in the form of dark-blue leathery wings which allowed him to fly. Had anyone bothered to ask what he was, even he would have been hard pressed to answer. Still, somewhere in the back of his mind, a single word always appeared to answer for him; Imp.
Eagerly Imp dove into the dumpster, loving it as the sludge began to coat his torn shirt and pants as he dug away with a fervor that suggested great hunger. In truth, it was more greed, as the eight-year old monster had never actually gone hungry a day in his life. The great city/planet of Hordeworld was home to billions of people, and such a dense population of sentients generated tons of decaying and rotting garbage each day, no matter how efficient the sanitation workers were. For a creature like Imp, even being homeless meant nothing when such an ample amount of sustenance was present, particularly since he had discovered he was able to just commandeer already made nests by kicking out or killing the wingrats that infested the city.
The only real problem for Imp had been the men in white who came periodically to empty out the dumpsters from which he ate. It seemed like every three days of so he was forced to leave his current nest because they and their giant trash-eating machine had sucked everything out of the dumpsters in the surrounding area. Once the boy had tried to fight them, not really wanting to leave the rather nice nest he'd stolen at the time. He'd mistakenly seen them as being just another obstacle, like a large wingrat, that he could either terrify into leaving him alone or kill. He'd dived and snapped at them, yelling at the workers to leave or be killed. Unsure of what he was, the garbage men had left rather than attract what could have been a swarm of the little monstrosities. Imp had been justifiably proud and had spent the better part of the day glutting and wallowing in what he now considered to be his private dumpster. That had been a huge mistake as only an hour before sundown, the sanitation workers returned, with two Horde Troopers in tow. Stomach full and caught off guard, Imp had barely escaped, especially when a stun blast skimmed his wing and nearly knocked him from the sky. It had taken the rest of that night, the next one, and day in between for his wing to regain feeling, and in that time the workers had done their thing and all the dumpsters were emptied completely. It was a very sad Imp who'd been forced to abandon that nest.
That was why this dumpster seemed so special to him. The blue monsterling had been feeding from it for almost three weeks now and the men in white had not shown up in all that time. It had been so good that Imp had actually been able to make his nest homier, and he was looking forward to spending as much time in the area as he could.
Imp's eyes widened as his hand gripped something greasy and familiar. He smiled as he pulled up a blackened banana peel, shoving the yummy morsel into his mouth.
#Life doesn't get any better than this,# he thought. That was when he heard a loud clanging crash as his whole world went black.
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Hordak liked being on Hordeworld. Though he would never give up the freedom and adventure being the absolute commander of the Horde's outer space conquest afforded him, he had to admit there was no place in the universe quite like home. Everywhere else he was largely loathed and feared; here he was a beloved hero of the citizenry, the conquering general whose talents, coupled with his elder brother's unmatched power and skill, allowed the empire to continuously expand across the galaxy. And this was the reason he enjoyed being on Hordeworld, it was the one place in the entire universe he could freely move without the need for a group of soldiers at his side. There were no screams of terror, no threats or shouts of defiance, simply the citizens who walked by, their lives enriched by being part of the life of greatness that was Hordak.
And that was his job; to be there to encounter, to be the visible face of the Horde dynasty. Horde Prime ruled over everything, the supreme and imposing presence who no one, not even Hordak himself, could stare upon without feeling an overwhelming fear boil up in their very souls. It was impossible for Horde Prime to even seem approachable, which in turn made it very difficult for him to inspire anything in those he ruled but fear. And while fear was definitely a useful emotion to keep the rabble in line, those on whom it was especially effective were rarely the type you could use to any greatness in a war against the universe. But then there was Hordak, the approachable one, the visible one, the one you didn't always have to fear even if it was for the sole reason that there was someone more powerful than him. If you could prove yourself, if you could shine, Hordak would listen and he would decide, and if he saw you shine too, you could go very far in the Horde. And that was the great dream of Hordeworld.
As Hordak moved through the twilight of the darkening streets, he kept an eye out for anything that had changed since he'd last been here three years ago. Hordeworld was a world in a constant state of flux, partly because the citizens were always importing and appropriating some idea from a recently conquered world, but mostly due to Horde Prime's need to be surrounded by activity, the feel that his world was changing from his efforts. Hordak's eyes darted to the side as he noticed a pair of urchins watching him in awe from the safety of an alley. From the look of them, they were both in their mid-teens and both looked fairly strong. Hordak made a mental note to send a few Troopers to round them up and send them to one of the nearby orphanages. He was not about to let two potential soldiers slip through the cracks, particularly not due to negligence on some undeserving citizen's part.
Soon Hordak found himself back in the neighborhood he was staying in. Since he was often off planet for years at a time, he found little need to maintain a permanent residence on the surface. He'd instead found it easier to simply survey the area for a building that suited his fancy and buy it for himself. Of course this inevitably meant evicting the building's current tenants, but Hordeworld was the one place where this was actually seen as a great honor over anything else. An interesting experience for the Horde General to say the least.
Currently, Hordak was taking up residence in an older building that had served as a rather lavish apartment complex. It suited the Horde General's sense of history to stay there, it was but one of three buildings that remained on all of Hordeworld that had not yet been torn down and replaced by one of black steel and iron. The massive suite he was currently using was very comfortable, and high enough in the air to be impervious to all but the most obnoxious of noises. Hordak shuddered as the thought of what an obnoxious noise would have to be to accomplish that entered his mind. That was when he saw it. It was standing on the dumpster in the alley right behind his home, his dumpster. At first all he could make out were the leathery wings on its back, but that was all he needed as it jumped into the dumpster.
#The blasted Wingrat! Now I've got you, you wretched little beast!# Hordak thought to himself. For the past three weeks, the Horde general had been kept awake by the most annoying scratching and digging sounds, as though something was moving rather haphazardly through the walls themselves. He'd believed that the noise was being caused by a wingrat, one of the vermin that infested the city. The nasty little buggers were always crawling into whatever nook or cranny they could fit in, and their ability to fly gave them plenty of ways to approach. He'd demanded an exterminator, who had been completely unable to find anything to indicate one of the flying monstrosities was present in the building. He'd even agreed to fill the whole building with a poison gas just to make sure, but still found nothing. Five times Hordak had sent for a new exterminator, and all five had given him the same answer; there was no wingrat. Still the scratching, stepping, and munching persisted. Hordak had almost considered having the nanites that ran his auditory nerves checked for faulty programming. But now, now that he had the nasty creature in his sights, he'd be all too happy to prove that those so called "professionals" were full of it. Silently he snuck up to the dumpster, his hand reaching for the lid so he could trap the creature. With a resounding bang the lid slammed on top of the metal container, and Hordak grinned maliciously.
"HEY! Let me outta here!" came a stuffy, nasally voice from the dumpster which immediately surprised Hordak. Since when had wingrats learned to talk.
"Curious," Hordak said quietly to himself. Carefully he lifted the lid just a crack, his other arm transforming into a large floodlight he proceeded to shine into the dumpster's interior.
"AH! Get that light offa me!" the same voice demanded as Hordak shot the light to the far corner of the container. His eyes widened as he spotted a little creature trying to bury itself under an old blanket, presumably to remove its eyes from the bright light of Hordak's arm. Immediately the Horde General closed the lid once again, his mind racing as he grappled with what he'd seen. That was most assuredly no wingrat, unless the little pests had undergone some rather severe mutations. In fact, Hordak didn't think he'd ever seen or heard of anything that matched what he had just seen. A smile crossed his lips. The Horde General had always fancied himself a bit of an amateur xenologist. It was handy to be able to make your own assumptions as to a planet's inhabitants rather than simply relying on lackeys. It allowed him to make more detailed and tailored plans for conquest, as well as allowing him to hold an upper-hand in negotiations with those few species and aliens dubbed worthy of being inducted into the Horde. But this, this could be far, far better.
If what he had glimpsed in the trash was indeed a brand new species, than it had either been able to survive the mass industrialization of the planet without being detected once, or it had somehow found a way to circumvent the rather elaborate defenses around Hordeworld. The first one seemed more likely as, if this were indeed a genuine alien, it would have done something other than go dumpster diving for the past three weeks. Hordak was very sure that this was the creature responsible for all the noise he'd had to deal with. As he was considering how best handle the situation, the sound of flapping wings came to his ears. Hordak looked up just in time to see little creature flying away, having escaped the confines of the dumpster. Quickly Hordak made his decision as his arms transformed into two different weapons each. On the left was a standard stun canon and on the right a tracer launcher. Both weapons fired at the same time, the stun blast barely missing the fleeing creature and thus completely distracting him from the small metallic disk that firmly attached itself to his thigh. A sideways glance at the monitor on his arm confirmed for Hordak that the tracer was indeed functioning and he could now track the little creature back to its lair, where there were hopefully others of its kind to find.
With that taken care of, the hordesman turned his attention back to the dumpster, examining the far side to see how the creature had escaped its imprisonment. A quick scan of the metal revealed only a small hole not even big enough for Hordak to get his fist through and nothing more.
#How in the world did that creature manage to squeeze itself through such a small space?#
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Imp huffed and puffed as his tired wings finally got him back to Good Nest, his mind working furiously to work out what exactly had happened back at the dumpster. Of course he had not come straight home. The dumpster was too close to Good Nest and Imp had not wanted to run the risk that the stranger would catch sight of him and attack him here. For that reason, he'd spent the better part of the night listening at the window of an apartment as its night-owl tenant watched Horde TV. Now, though, the youngling was left to ponder just why he had been attacked. He was quite certain his attacker was not one of the men in white. They were always too noisy. Maybe an assassin paid by them? No, that made no sense. They had Horde troopers to fall upon if they wanted to chase him away. He could have been another homeless man; Imp had had plenty of problems with other poverty stricken citizens who had thought him an easy target for either abuse or food (it was not Imp's fault he vaguely resembled what others referred to as a pig). But the man had looked far too healthy to be a derelict.
Irritated, he began to bounce his red ball against the wall of Good Nest, one of the many possessions he'd managed to accumulate since he'd taken up residence in this neighborhood. He looked around at all the other possessions; dolls, bottle caps, cups, knives, assorted articles of clothing, and the like, all stolen from residents who had either been too careless or too thoughtless when Imp had been nearby. There was no way he could ever escape Good Nest without leaving all of his things behind, a thought that immediately saddened him.
#I'd better lay low for a few days, try to stay away from that particular dumpster,# he thought to himself. His stomach rumbled as he thought about all the delicious treats he'd be missing out on, particularly if the men in white came and emptied it out before he could get back. A hard thump signaled a particularly hard toss of the ball against the wall. #Maybe… maybe if I transform when I go there, become something he won't recognize…# Early on Imp had discovered his ability to assume different forms, a talent he often used to hide himself as he snuck through the neighborhood. He couldn't count the number of toes that had been stubbed or butts had been flattened simply because people had failed to take heed of a certain blue rock that had suddenly appeared in front of them. He'd even transformed into a snake to escape the dumpster.
Imp's train of thought was derailed as he noticed the first rays of morning light creeping through the door of Good Nest. They were not strong, nor would they ever be given the amount of smog that covered Hordeworld's sky, but they were there, signaling the coming dawn. Silently Imp yawned. Dawn meant it was time for him to sleep. His coloration made it easier for him to be out and about at night, when darkness could shroud him from sight, so it was during the day he tended to sleep. Carelessly he tossed the ball into one of the many piles of stuff that littered Good Nest as he slinked over to his bed, a massive pile of soft cloth and cottony stuffing he'd successfully pilfered from several of the nearby apartments, with a covering made from a large and soft terrycloth towel. Curling up on his stomach with his wings folded down onto his back, Imp pulled his tail in as he pulled up the soft terrycloth towel for cover. Within moments, the soft sound of snoring could be heard as the imp went to sleep.
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Hordak snorted as he stood in his bedroom, both pleased at the fact that his assumption on who was making the noises in his building was right, and irritated beyond belief that he hadn't discovered it sooner. Unwilling to go shopping for new furniture, Hordak had appropriated all the furniture that had already been present, including a rather large oaken bed that currently was in the master bedroom. The headboard of the bed had been pushed all the way against the wall, a fact the Horde General had not thought to question. Now, though, as he searched for the strange creature's nest (he hadn't been at all surprised to find the little creature was living in his building) he had discovered there had been a very good reason for the bed's position… it hid a large hole in the wall that led all the way to the outside. Had the room not been on the top floor, Hordak could have noticed it from the outside. It was here that Hordak's tracer had led him and he silently swore an oath to kill the citizen that had sold him this place as he moved the bed just enough to allow his head to peer into the hole. Sure enough, the inside of the wall looked like a packrat's paradise with all the dirty and dingy items scattered around. And there, lying in a pile of stuffing near the opening in the outer wall was the creature he'd seen, sleeping away the day. Of course Hordak had guessed it was nocturnal, so he wasn't too surprised. After all, that was the reason he'd decided to track it during the day, so he could catch it asleep.
Silently, so as not to wake the creature, Hordak reached into a rather large duffel bag and pulled out a small infrared remote camera. He had picked up some equipment suitable for observing his target after he'd lost the creature the previous night, though the quartermaster had been hard pressed to understand why Hordak of all people would need the equipment when he could easily get a master spy to do any snooping he wanted. Briefly the Horde General had considered simply telling the xenologists about his find and letting them handle figuring out what it was, but somehow he couldn't accept them sharing in his discovery. If this was indeed a new species, then this was an accomplishment even the great Horde Prime would be unable to copy as he NEVER came to Hordeworld but stayed aboard the Velvet Glove.
With those thoughts, Hordak had taken it upon himself to make the creature a new hobby. Carefully he moved aside a large (for the nest's size) mound of things that looked like they hadn't been touched in some time, particularly given the layer of dust the items had. Once he had placed the video camera and checked it to make sure he would get optimum coverage, he replaced the pile, effectively hiding the camera from the nest's occupant. Next he placed a small microphone in an upper corner of what would have been considered the ceiling. If the creature spoke again Hordak would hear it and his equipment would record it. Satisfied, Hordak quietly moved his bed back up against the wall, once more sealing the creature in question out of his room.
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Imp yawned as he awoke from a day's sleep, an action that produced a loud sneeze that made him clamp down on his snout. Quickly his eyes darted around in the darkness, making sure nothing was going to take advantage of his sudden outburst of noise and try to steal his nest. When nothing revealed itself, Imp began to sit up in his bed and slowly stretch, banishing the last vestiges of sleep from his body. Dropping to all fours on the floor, the tiny monster crawled stealthily around to the tattered and torn remains of a large plush toy. Suddenly, with an audible growl, Imp leapt for the toy, biting and grabbing as he did so. Fabric tore as his fangs ripped off a chunk of the cottony fluff, and the whole thing fell over. Imp smiled as he roughly landed, this was the kind of play he enjoyed. It kept him fierce, powerful, and ready for anything that might try to take him out. Once he was done with the doll, he moved on to the red ball he'd had last night. With a sharp smack of his hand, the ball rolled across the floor of the nest only to be blocked by Imp's fat tail and sent sailing in a new direction. Again Imp scrambled into the path the ball was taking, striking it again. For nearly thirty minutes, the blue monsterling repeated his game, only stopping as the shrill wail of a siren reached his ears. Silently, he moved towards the entrance to his lair, looking out. The siren signaled first curfew, effectively telling anyone with only a level one citizen card that being outside of their homes would result in immediate incarceration. It also had the duel effect of signally when the last rays of Hordeworld's weak sun had disappeared over the horizon. Sure now that he would not be spotted, Imp adjusted his shirt to allow his wings as much freedom as possible, stretching them in preparation for the night's activities. The sound of clicking hooves could be heard as he jumped from the hole and took off into the night.
"Ahhhh," Imp sighed as he felt the rushing wind going through his hair, his wings stretching to their maximum size as he caught the smog laden breeze of Hordeworld air and began to glide. The scavenger angled his wings ever so slightly, his tail moving to keep him balanced, and his direction altered as he moved through the open air, surveying the city. Below him, dreary lights could be seen emanating from the buildings; sure signs that the citizenry was very much active, even at night. Through the streets, Horde constables marched in pairs, stunner sticks knocking against their hips as they passively scanned the dark areas and alleyways for any stragglers caught out after curfew.
In truth, first curfew was meant to keep children and juveniles indoors after dark, where they were less likely to get into mischief. Technically, they were the only ones who were supposed to be in possession of the level one card but, as Imp had seen for himself on numerous occasions, there were certain advantages to forgoing getting the level two cards supposedly due to you upon reaching adulthood. Not having one made it that much harder for a trooper or constable to trace your identity, and the signal given off by the cards was fairly weak in comparison to the higher level citizen cards. Being caught at any point without a citizen card meant immediate execution, but breaking first curfew was such a minor offense that Horde Prime was known to punish the constable that bothered him with such a thing far worse far more often then he did the actual offender.
Imp's wings angled again, this time forward, as he began his descent into the city below quietly landing on an awning as two constables walked past. His stomach grumbled as he landed, letting him know it was time to eat. Silently he cursed the man from the night before. If not for him, the blue boy would have been able to go to his favored dumpster to eat. Experience, however, told him to stay away for a while, at least until the coast became clearer. Sniffing the air, Imp located the nearest garbage dump he could find and headed for it, entering one of the many darkened alleys on the street. As he began to eat, the sound of feet scuffling on stone could be heard. Carefully Imp lifted his head out of the dumpster to see what was going on, his sensitive eyes finding three humanoid creatures standing at the end of the alley.
Judging by the size difference, two of the humanoids looked to be children when compared to the third that they faced. The shortest of the trio was a scruffy red headed boy with a green flannel shirt buttoned all the way up to his neck and freckles on his face, along with a scared look as he glanced back down the alley, trying to make sure no one had spotted them. His partner was a brown haired teenage boy with a green sweater and a patch over his left eye and a stern look on his face. He held the younger boy's hand in an iron grip, as though trying to keep him from bolting. The third humanoid towered over the two boys. A massive man with what looked like long platinum blonde hair and a youthful, chiseled face stood before the two. He wore what looked like it might have been armor, though if the man's frame was any indication; it could have easily just been muscle. Imp made sure to remain very quiet, fully aware that he was most likely bearing silent witness to what was a thoroughly illegal meeting.
&So what are they meeting about?& The possibilities were almost endless, given Hordeworld's less than savory atmosphere. The apprehensive look of the younger boy seemed to hint at this being a nastier piece of work than usual.
"Is my new property ready?" the man asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the two street urchins as he studied them carefully.
"Do you have my money?" the older boy asked, clearly trying to seem as though he was unfazed by the intimidating presence before him.
"It's rude to answer a question with a question, boy, not to mention dangerous when you are not the one in the stronger position," the man said. As if to emphasize the point, he raised a fist that was covered in a spiky glove and brandished it at he brunette. A small droplet of something green fell from one of the blades. Carefully the taller boy handed the man a package. Imp could see the ivory fangs of a smile on the man's face.
"Excellent, excellent," the man said as he handed over a handful of coins to the boys.
"Hey this is only a quarter of what you promised!"
"And you're lucky you're getting that much. Now get out of here before I skin you both alive!" To emphasize his point the man slammed his gauntlet-clad hand into the wall, leaving a substantial crack in the brickwork. Immediately the two boys haphazardly shoved the coins into their pockets, losing many of them in the process. "Filthy brats," was all the man said as he watched the two boys flee before leaving the alleyway himself. Having seen everything of interest, Imp too decided to leave, but not before gathering up all the coins the boys had dropped.
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Hordak read the reports that had been brought to him, an angry scowl on his face as he did so. The reports were on prospective planets Horde Prime wanted to see conquered and, as was ever the case, the impatient Overlord wanted them conquered centuries ago. As what basically amounted to his second in command, Hordak was charged with determining which Horde Generals, and their accompanying armed forces, would go to which planet. The problem was separating the wheat from the chaff where the commanders were concerned. The very structure of the Horde meant that hundreds of useless officers gained command positions based solely on just how much butt they could kiss in one sitting, and thus it was Hordak's job to make sure these undeserving sots got sent to planets where they would either sink or swim. The difficulty was it was very hard to gauge the mettle of a man if you never met him, and Hordak had yet to be properly introduced to many of these new commanders.
The sound of flapping wings snapped Hordak's attention away from the papers, signaling that his little "pet" had returned. Quickly the Horde General turned xenologist grabbed a notepad that had been sitting next to him, quickly opening it and marking down the time. Once again, the creature had returned before sun-up, just as it had everyday for the last three weeks.
&Just as HE has,& Hordak thought, mentally correcting himself. Determining the creature's gender had been one of the earlier observations Hordak had been able to make, though doing so had left the normally stoic Horde General feeling somewhat filthy.
Silently he turned on the closed circuit television he'd connected to the camera in the creature's lair. Predictably, Hordak's little hobby had begun rolling around on the floor of his lair clutching an equal sized doll in his arms and legs. Hordak was actually amazed he didn't break a wing with all his rolling about. Quickly he wrote down his observations of the "battle," particularly the number of times the creature bit into the doll. Hordak had taken the thing to have the saliva analyzed and had been quite surprised to discover the creature's mouth was almost oozing poison. Obviously he realized this himself and used this fact as his primary weapon. According to computer analysis, the toxins were extremely potent, highly deadly, and possessed no known antidote. Hordak smiled, you could accomplish a lot with a sample of such a liquid. Names and faces flashed through his mind.
The most surprising thing, though, was the creature's diet. At first, Hordak had tried to attract it back to his own dumpster by throwing away fresh (for Hordeworld anyway) produce and meats. It had been a shock to discover the creature had rejected the fresh foods in favor of a rancid slab of rapidly molding ham. Closer examination of his food choices revealed that he did indeed subsist on rotten and decaying foodstuff, as well as various other unsavory items Hordak was quite sure would kill anything else that tried to consume them. Given the way the creature's venom rotted away its victims from the inside out, Hordak had no trouble determining how he got the component chemicals for it. The Horde General smiled a sinister smile as he imagined having a small group of the creatures trained to wreak havoc in enemy encampments. Finally, playtime ended and the creature settled down for the day, a fact that made Hordak somewhat sad. On the night he had first sighted the abnormal monster, the Hordesman could have sworn he'd heard the creature actually speak. Hordak had hoped he'd speak again, especially if it was something other than one or two phrases. It was one thing to discover some new dumb animal, but one that was actually intelligent enough to communicate would go down in history books
Sensing he wasn't going to see anything else really worth seeing; the creature was now snoring in its bed; Hordak turned off the monitor, relying on the camera to record anything out of the ordinary that might happen during the day. That was when he heard it. It was the sound of fairly big wings beating through the air, a clear indication that something large was coming in for a landing. All hopes that he was finally going to see a second creature were dispelled, however, as Hordak heard a loud screeching squeal followed by a thud against the wall. Quickly turning the monitor back on, Hordak was greeted by the sight of a battle as a very big wingrat attack his creature. The creature, having been taken by surprise, was on his back and fighting desperately as his bigger opponent bit and scratched at him. Hordak found himself mentally cheering for the little guy who was clearly outmatched as he tried to use his hooves to kick the rat's gullet. Sharp toes swiftly managed to cause sufficient damage to force the wingrat to shift its weight, allowing the creature to pull himself up and bury his fangs into the shoulder of hiss attacker. Immediately, the vermin made a high pitched screech as it reared back, trying to dislodge its suddenly deadly foe. Finally, the wingrat fell off the creature and onto its back, pitching back and forth as the deadly rotting toxin spread throughout its system.
"Yes," Hordak said in a hushed whisper as he watched the wingrat's death throes. The little blue creature, showing some mobility even in his injured state, wisely backed away from the beast to avoid its slashing claws and gnashing teeth. Finally, the wingrat fell still, its ribs no longer expanding or contracting. Hordak could almost smell the stench of death and decay the corpse was giving off. Over in the corner of the nest the blue creature too lay still, injured, though still alive. Slowly, Hordak moved his bed away from the wall, and looked into the nest. Shallow, raspy breathing could be heard as Hordak looked over to where the creature lay with the dead wingrat nearby. He lay on his back, a bad position for any creature with wings to be in, and one of his wings was very clearly bent in the wrong direction. His shirt looked like a rag with all the cuts from the rat's claws and the bite mark on the creature's shoulder was releasing a lot of blood. Silently Hordak weighed his options.
If the creature did die, it would mean an end to Hordak's private study. There was no way he had the equipment or the knowledge needed to effectively dissect the creature, which would mean he would have to let someone else in on his discovery. The creature's death would also effectively reduce the chances for anyone being able to find more of these creatures. On the other hand, short of killing him at a later date, Hordak would never get a better chance to examine the insides of the creature, particularly the digestive system that would allow for such a deadly diet.
#Still, it would be a great waste to have spent so many weeks watching this creature just to see him die because some worthless pest got the drop on him,# Hordak thought. #But the question remains as to whether or not I would be able to save him.# Silently Hordak made his decision as he reached into the creature's den and lifted him out.
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&I'm floating, that's what it feels like. I'm in the air and my wings aren't flapping. It hurts so much to move. Is this what it feels like to die!? I don't like it, I don't.
I… I feel something! Something's taking off my shirt! What's happening? I… I can't see anything but blurs. Something white has me… THE MEN IN WHITE! No, no I don't want to die like this! I want my Mom! I want my Dad!
Something's wrapping around me. It feels wet and slimy like… like a tongue! No, they're going to eat me! Gotta get outta here! AH! I feel… so tired. Can't… stay… awa…&
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Carefully Hordak placed the creature in a basket nest of small pillows as he finished bandaging his wounds. The creature whimpered a little in his sleep as some of the pain managed to make its way to his brain.
&But with any luck the sleeping pill I gave him will keep him from flopping around like he was a moment ago.& Hordak thought. He looked at the torn and ruined shirt that he still held in his hand, spots and splotches of crimson all over it. He'd been forced to cut the shirt off of the little monster in order to sterilize and dress his wounds and splint his wing, which meant Hordak needed to find something else for his little houseguest to wear. &Something that can wait until I'm sure he's survived, I think.& Hordak sat down at his private terminal and began to write about what was changing in his study, as well as what he had learned of the creature. He'd been most amazed to see that the bones of the injured wing were already knitting themselves together again, healing at an amazing rate. At the thought of how quickly the creature would be up and about again, Hordak opened a link in the computer system to a nearby store, entering in an order for a good-sized cage to be delivered. &No sense in letting the creature escape now.& Finishing his entry, Hordak smiled and got up, looking at the creature.
"Well my little friend, I guess we're just going to have to take our little relationship to the next level, which shouldn't be so bad. I can study you, feed you and keep a much better eye on you," Hordak whispered to his sleeping houseguest. "And, should you prove tamable and trainable; the Horde might just be able to use you. Though I suppose I'll need some sort of name for you, won't I?" With those words, Hordak turned out the light and left to let his guest sleep while he worked in another part of the building.
Two hours later found the Horde General returning to his bedroom to check up on the creature, which he'd now dubbed "Scavenger," only to be greeted by the sound of pained whimpering. Fearing the sleeping pills had worn off and "Scavenger" was now further injuring himself as he fought back the pain, Hordak turned on the light. The creature was currently lying on its side, sweat falling off the portions of his skin that had been left exposed as he coughed and sputtered. Carefully, Hordak placed a hand on "Scavenger's" chest. Something was definitely wrong. Where before his skin had been just this side of cool to the touch, now it was very warm.
&Is it possible he's become sick? How does that happen, I took every precaution?& Hordak felt "Scavenger" shiver violently, quite obviously unwell. Quickly he moved the monster back onto his stomach and covered him before returning to his terminal. A split second later, a link was opened to the Horde's server. Over its centuries of conquest, the Horde had amassed a wealth of knowledge from its numerous conquests all of which was, at varying levels, made accessible to members of the Horde who might need it. Somewhere there had to be a reference Hordak could use to help the creature. Quickly he made a list of every medicine or treatment that presented itself. Now that he had chosen to save the creature's life, "Scavenger's" death would be more than just a simple inconvenience; it would be a mark of failure on him. Within an hour, most if not all of the medicines and ingredients arrived at his building.
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Hordak sat in an angry huff at his terminal, growling half at himself and half at "Scavenger" for being so difficult over the past few days. All around him lay the opened and discarded containers of countless "remedies" Hordak had acquired for the sole purpose of curing the creature of whatever illness had suddenly gripped him. Unfortunately, rather than heal "Scavenger", each medicine, each poultice, each treatment only seemed to make him worse. Introduction of a medicine to reduce his coughing had made him vomit; an anti-congestant had instead clogged his porcine nose up with disgusting green mucus; and a poultice designed to give heat to the body instead created horrible lesions over any part of his skin it touched. Hordak had been forced to wash the last one off of "Scavenger" in a tub of hot water, only to hear a horrible squealing when "Scavenger's" body touched the water. The only thing that had actually helped had been a blackened banana peel Hordak had been able to coax his young patient to eat.
Now the creature was in a fitful sleep in his basket while Hordak tried yet again to find something, anything that might point to a cure. Since medical science had failed (and miserably) Hordak was now turning towards Horde sorcery for help. His eyes widened as his search of the magical database yielded results unexpected. It was a digitized copy of a book of ancient myths that popped up on the screen. At first, Hordak had been prepared to slam a fist into the terminal for giving him something he hadn't asked for, but then he'd noticed just what he had gotten.
Sitting on the screen was a picture of a creature that looked very similar to what was currently taking up residence in the Horde General's bedroom, the biggest difference being the sharp spike that jutted out of the pictured creature's forehead.
"It couldn't be…" Hordak thought as the implications of the picture. Was it possible that the creature he'd found was not fully developed; a juvenile? Curious, Hordak began to read the creature's brief description.
&Imp: A mythological demon. Nocturnal, highly mischievous, thrives on decay…& The information matched with what Hordak had observed of the creature certainly, but was it possible that this creature's species was responsible for the myth of the imp? More importantly, if this creature was simply a kid, where were the adults nesting? Grudgingly, Hordak pushed aside these questions as he eyed the last bit of the description. &They thrive on decay? Could it be that's why he's getting sicker and not better?& Hordak thought, recalling how he'd seen the imp reject the fresher foods Hordak had tried to tempt him with in favor of those that had been rotted and putrid. Quickly, an idea entering his mind, Hordak reached for his communicator. One of the benefits of being second-in-command of the Horde was that you did not have to waste time explaining why you wanted things if you weren't in the mood to explain, a fact that came in very handy when a fellow needed to get a hold of a barrel of raw sewage.
The delivery was made in less than an hour, coupled with a suit and oxygen mask. Hordak had the delivery men move the barrel to one of the first floor bathrooms, the benefit of living in an apartment complex was that you had plenty to choose from, and had them empty the barrel's contents into the bathtub. Once the men were gone, Hordak retrieved his little project, still shivering despite blankets Hordak had practically cocooned him in, and brought him to the tub. Carefully removing the bandages, the mighty Lord of the Horde grimaced as he saw the still open and festering cuts on "Scavenger's" body, remnants of his encounter with the wingrat.
With a final look at the revolting stew of decay and filth, Hordak gently lowered the creature into the tub. Suddenly, the polluted water began to pulse as the imp settled on the bottom, his wings stretching wide as though to maximize the amount of the vile liquid that could touch him. Hordak watched with utter revulsion as the imp's body seemed to absorb the sewage rapidly, even as he was fascinated by the effect it was having. Lesions faded as the cuts and scraps closed as if they never were, even his nose cleared as if by magic. Hair that had been ragged and dull once more took on a dark indigo color as it became thick once again. The formerly broken wing, already mending at an impressive speed before Hordak's attempt to medicate, almost seemed to snap back to perfection. Even as Hordak watched the recovery take place, he marveled as he noticed the water, which had been so completely polluted that it was little more than an opaque green sludge, was steadily becoming clearer and clearer. Eventually, Hordak could make out the bottom of the tub, a fact that surprised him so much; he accidentally released his grip on the imp and "Scavenger's" head began to sink below the surface of the water, his jaw opening as though to let the still putrefied water in. Since his nose remained above the water, Hordak saw no reason to dirty his own hands lifting his houseguest out again, not that it seemed the water would remain dirty for much longer. A few minutes later, Hordak blinked at his own reflection in what looked to be crystal clear water of a type that had not truly existed on Hordeworld for many, many years.
Still wearing his protective gear, Hordak reached into the water and pulled "Scavenger" from it, not wishing him to get sick again from being in purified water. The monsterling was lightly snoring as Hordak wrapped him in blankets and carried him away, not forgetting to take a sample of the bath water; he had a strong suspicion testing it would prove it completely pure. Once more entering the bedroom, Hordak placed the imp back in his basket, a move which elicited a rather loud yawn from the Horde General. Turning out the light, Hordak slipped into his own bed and went to sleep.
Time passed; the Horde General dreamed of endless conquest, of a universe firmly under his control, of a Horde with only one ruler… HORDAK. Suddenly, the scent of brimstone began to permeate Hordak's grim dream world. Beginning to awaken, Hordak also began to feel a slight pressure on his chest, as though something were resting on him of all places. Hordak's eyes opened, nanites in his bloodstream helping his eyes adjust to the darkness far faster than any normal creature could. He was quite surprised to discover that "Scavenger" was no longer in the basket Hordak had placed him in. Almost like a pudgy feline, the monsterling was now laying on Hordak's chest, his arms and legs drawn up under him in a relaxed position, his wings flat against his back. But what sent a shiver up Hordak's spine was the fact that, even in the darkness, he could clearly make out "Scavenger's" fully open yellow eyes.
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To be continued…
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