dopliss: (wrapped up in bandages) Hey, guys, and welcome to my third story. But, after a little… mishap that happened with Team Rocket at the end of story two, things are going to take a different turn. What I mean is, I'm gonna tell the stories from the perspective of the main OCs. Let's see how this goes, shall we?
Disclaimer: Darkstalkers is a franchise owned by Capcom. If only they gave equal focus on all their franchises instead of their cash cows…
A/n: Okay, I need a little help from some of you hardcore Darkstalkers fans out there, mostly because I can't find any website with a sufficient amount of information on this series. There's something called 'Dark Force' – what exactly is it? I mean, as far as I've researched, it's some sort of buff that makes the user stronger for a few seconds, but when it also adds something extra to some of the combos, is there more to it than that? Please tell me in a review, okay?
You know how a daily grind usually works for the average guy? Ever since birth, you go through several years of education, form bonds with the people you meet, graduate from high school, college or whatever fancy-schmancy place your parents got you in, find a nice girl or guy, get married, get children, help them through life just like your parents helped you, watch them get an education and a job and a soul mate – and then, at the very end, you can get yourself a peaceful death, going out with a smile on your face as you remember all the good times in your life.
That daily grind and me… we're on opposite sides of the universe.
Throughout my life, I never got educated, I never made bonds, and I certainly didn't get any help from either my parents or anyone else. And when I die, I will be lying down on the ground, slowly rotting away as vultures peck at every little piece of decaying flesh on my body. No funerals to be held, no tears to be shed – nothing.
Why do I think like this, you ask? The answer is simple: humans can't stand types like me.
Ever since I was a kid, I've been wandering through America on my own two feet, struggling every day to survive, occasionally breaking into people's houses for some food or water. I have no place to go, no purpose whatsoever – hell, I don't even have a sense of time. All I've been doing is just walking and walking and walking. That's my daily grind, right there.
Well, former daily grind.
This last week has been one where I didn't get any food to eat or water to drink, 'cause all I crossed on my path was a bare road with the occasional car passing by and a few bushes whose lack of fruits and berries would only feed the everyday herbivores and desperate vegetarian. The food I prefer to eat usually consists of juicy flesh, so even if I was vegetarian, I wouldn't put any leaves of branches in my mouth.
As I kept walking (as if I had anything else to do), the grass tickling my feet, I began to feel the effects of no food or water. My vision became more and more blurry, my eyelids became heavier and heavier, and my legs began to give in. And so, I lost my footing and fell down face-first onto the grassy ground.
Finally… my crappy life comes to an end.
As I lay there and waited for the Grim Reaper to swing his scythe over my head, the sounds of playing children caught my fading hearing's attention. Lucky kids… they get to experience a life better than mine. Huh, that's strange… I can feel the ground vibrating. It's getting stronger and stronger… and those kids are getting louder too…
Oh damn… They've spotted me.
I used what little strength I had left in my body to half-open my eyes. Yep, just as I thought, the kids have gathered around me. I can prove this because I could see some small feet in front of me. My ears then twitched as they started saying things I can't be bothered to listen to – things like that I'm actually lying here and that I'm a freak and encouragements to poke me with a stick and blah, blah, blah. Who wanna hear those kinds of things when you're dying?
Speaking of which, my consciousness is fading faster now. Probably shouldn't have opened my eyes just to see what kinds of shoes they're wearing… And so, as my eyes closed for the last time in my life, I gave my last breath as I plead for the one thing I really wanted at the moment: "…Water…"
Heh… As if any of these kids actually wanna help me by giving me something to drink. The thought alone would be enough to make me laugh if my throat wasn't dryer than Sahara.
"Someone! Help me get this man inside!"
Huh? Who's that? And did that person just refer to me?
…Nah… 'Help me get this man inside'… it's probably someone else. Someone that people will give a damn about.
Even with my eyes closed, I could feel my world plunge into darkness…
What is this scent I smell? Flowers? I've smelled this particular scent before… I think it's the smell of roses. I remember sniffing one out of curiosity.
Wait a minute… why do I smell roses? Is that natural to do in the afterlife?
I opened my eyes, and I was greeted with the sight of a ceiling painted in ivory. As I sat upright – I noticed I was in a bed big enough for one person while doing so, for your information – I found myself surrounded by ivory-painted walls, a brown wooden door with a silver knob, windows, another door that was black with a silver knob, and a dresser with a mirror and a vase with a rose in it.
I guess I'm stuck in some sort of limbo while whatever almighty deity decides what to do with my soul. But why make me wait in a room as tidy as this? The absolute lack of bathing I've had for the last week of my life – not to mention the many, many, many other times I've not washed – should qualify me as someone you don't wanna let inside something so clean, no matter how goodhearted you are. …Unless I don't keep my smell after dying… I'd better check this.
…
Nope. I still stink of my own sweat and filth.
Well, if I'm gonna have to wait for however long I have to wait, then I don't wanna spend my time lying-slash-sitting in a bed. I jumped off the side and landed on my feet. The wooden floor feels cold… I guess it'll heat up quickly if I go to Hell. I then got down on all fours and stretched my body – first forwards, then backwards, just like I always do. Now that I've taken care of that, I might as well take a peek in the mirror.
Gives me an opportunity to describe how I look while I'm at it.
I got up on my feet, walked up to the dresser, and looked deeply into the mirror. The usual reflection of myself stared back at me. Nothing's changed from what I remember looking like last time – same blue eyes, same messy forest of blue hair, same muscular build. With a body like that, some could consider me a man of mediocre attractiveness who just never bothered to cut or wash or style his hair. However, with me, that's not the case.
The reason for this is because I'm not human.
You see, I may have the attributes of a thirty-year-old man with a physique that makes me look like I spent the last year in a gym, but everything else is pure feline in appearance. My white-furred ears are triangular and stick out at the top of my head, a long white tail about two thirds of my body grows out from my coccyx, my teeth are very pointy, and my hands and feet are twice as big as a human's and looks like paws, complete with big red claws and pink pads. Also, I don't wear clothes, but instead my body grows thick patches of white fur on my hands, feet, shoulders, the middle of my chest, and everything from my waist to the middle of my thighs.
I know what you're thinking: "Eeeew! A naked monster with a furry crotch! So disgusting!" Don't worry; my junk can't be spotted that easily. You see, my genitalia is the same as many other mammals. Case in point, I have a sheath, making it look like I'm wearing furry boxers. And I have absolute control of everything down there, so it won't accidentally slip out.
So, to summarize, if you wanna look at my package, you're gonna have to settle for my balls.
"Oh. I see you're awake."
That voice… I recognize that voice. It's the very same voice I heard just before I died. What's that person doing here?
Oh well… at least now I can see who was crazy enough to flat out say 'Help that monster avoid the embrace of death'.
I slowly turned around to face my would-be rescuer fully and got a good look at the person. As far as I could see, it was a woman with sapphire-blue eyes, pristine hands, and a kind smile on her face. Now, I mean 'as far as I could see' as in I can't see anything else this woman might possess because she was wearing the dress and hat usually worn by those 'nuns' I've heard about. Never actually met one in person, but now that I'm dead, I guess I can prove one religion correct.
Actually, now that I look at her, there's something very odd about her. She's not shivering in terror, she's not slowly backing away from me – she's not even yelling at me or threatening my life. All she's doing is just standing there, smiling as if I wasn't a 'hellspawn', as many have called me.
"Well, this is interesting," I said. "You're the first person I've seen whose first choice of action isn't running away or trying to kill me." Hmm… my voice isn't the pained and hoarse sound I've grown used to this last week. "I really must be dead if someone like you exists."
She tilted her head to the left. "Dead?" she asked. Few seconds later, she straightened her head again and laughed, holding a hand at her mouth like a stereotypical princess in a fairytale. "No, no, you've got it all wrong. You're not dead at all."
Wait, really? I was pulled away from the light at the end of the tunnel? But that means… this situation I'm in is completely unrealistic! "Are you telling me you saved my life?" I asked.
She folded her hands and her smile grew bigger. I guess that means yes. "I carried you in here and made your unconscious body drink some nice, cool water all by myself," she answered, followed by some light giggling.
Interesting… That makes my mind think of two things. I'd better confront her about them one at the time. "You carried my unconscious body all by yourself? You must hide some pretty big muscles under that dress of yours."
She let out another laugh. Her voice is kinda cute, now that I think about it. She then held up her right arm and placed her left hand on her bicep. "I'm no Wonder Woman, but when someone's in peril, I'll leap into action and save the day!" she replied.
Heh… That got me chuckling a bit. Now, on to interesting fact number two. "By 'all by myself', I guess no one else wanted to help me, huh?" I assumed. "And don't try to say that you were the only one there – I heard kids playing around."
Her mood took a turn down the drain and her pretty little smile faded away, replaced by a frown. "Yes. No one other than me came to your aid. The others even told me to just, as they put it, 'dump you and walk away'."
She reached her left hand up to her headdress and took it off. Wow… that's a lot of blue hair. Seriously, it's as long as mine and more untamed than a lion's mane – scratch that – her hair puts a lion's mane to shame. "My mother always told me to do the right thing. Dumping your body and walking away would be sinful of me," she finished.
"Okay, good to know," I replied. Now that I've got those questions answered, I've got some new ones. "You mentioned something about 'others'…" I looked around at this little room I thought was a waiting room in limbo. "That reminds me, where the heck am I?"
Her mood instantly changed back to her previous state of friendly happiness and her smile returned. It's as if this woman's mood is like a pendulum. "This is an orphanage run by nuns. Its name is the 'Felicity House'." I could practically see the pride shining in her eyes as she put her hands on her hips. "I had this building made myself… although I'm not in charge anymore."
"Not in charge anymore?" I asked.
She nodded. "Someone else became the Mother Superior and took over." Sounds like a power-hungry whore. "Not to backtalk her, but… she was the one who insisted that I left you alone the most." Let me rephrase that: Sounds like a power-hungry bitch with a cross up her ass.
"And what day, month and year is it?" I asked.
She looked curious at first, but then returned to her smiling. A happy smiley must be her default expression or something. "It's Friday the first of October, 2000."
Year 2000, huh? To think it's been that long… I shook my head and said, "Well, it was nice to meet you, but I've gotta leave." That last part was a lie. I have no place to go and no reason to hurry. I couldn't help but get a bad taste in my mouth as I walked towards the brown door, which I assumed is the way out.
My way out was suddenly blocked when the nun stepped in front of the door and held her hands out in front of her, a look of concern on her face this time. "I'm sorry, but you can't leave yet," she said.
What am I, a kid getting scolded by his teacher or parent? Not ever tried that, but I've seen movie clips in the TVs standing in the windows of the various electronics stores I've walked past in my life. "Look, I appreciate your kindness and saving my life and all, but I need to go now that I'm up and running again."
"You're lying." What the…? How can she tell? "Besides, you're not up and running again. Look at yourself – you'd be nothing but skin and bones if it wasn't for me!"
That's… Okay, I'll admit, I left out the part about me not having eaten in days showing its visual effects on my body. Sue me if you want; I have nothing you can take.
…
…And if it wasn't enough that I look like a skeleton-to-be, my stomach just ratted me out as loudly as it could. Game, set and match to the nun. I drew a weary sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine," I said. "I guess I can stay until I'm at a hundred percent – but once I'm fully recovered, I'm leaving."
The smile and kindness returned to her face. "Good to hear," she replied.
Geez, what's up with this woman? First she saves my life – a monster's life – then she acts all friendly and answers his questions without a second thought, and now she refuses to let me leave unless I'm healthy. I know she said her mother told her to always do the right thing, but a length like this is weird, even by my standards. She must be either dumb, crazy, or hiding an ulterior motive of some sorts.
A sudden knock on the door behind her was heard, followed by the voice of another woman. "Sister Felicia! Are you still in there?" she asked. "We need your assistance with the children!"
The nun in front of me turned her head to look at the door. "Coming!" she replied. She then turned back to me and took her headdress back on. Where she keeps all that hair, I don't know. "I'm sorry to leave so suddenly, but I have duties to attend to."
Oh well… at least I got her name. "You're Felicia?" I presumed.
She gave another nod. "That's my name, yes. And may I ask for your name?"
Ah, yes, that's only the fair thing to do. I smiled and held out my right hand. "I'm Jonathan Taylor. Nice to meet you, Felicia."
She smiled back and shook my hand. Her hand nearly disappeared in my paw-shaped fist – I could barely feel it being there. "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Taylor," she replied.
Ooh… 'Mr.'… How fancy. "No need to act so formal. Just call me Jonathan – or 'John', if you like."
Felicia giggled as we let go of each other's hands. "Now, you stay here and get some rest. I'll come get you when it's time for dinner." And with that said, she turned around, opened the door, and walked out. She then turned around and kept looking at me as she slowly closed the door for whatever reason. "See you later and sleep tight, Jonathan."
And so, the click of the door shutting and her footsteps fading away signaled her departure for some other part of this nun-driven orphanage. I'm curious as all hell about these new, unfamiliar surroundings, but… also very tired. I guess she's right… I'm in no fit state to walk onwards on my journey to nowhere in particular.
Yawning, I turned to face the bed and leapt right onto it, which was easy to do with my feline abilities. I then pulled the covers over most of my body and made myself comfortable. It's been a while since I've slept this comfily… and I love sleeping.
Dinner at the Felicity House was not as quaint as my conversation with its founder.
When I awoke once again in my current bedroom – and confirmed that I wasn't just dreaming that whole experience – it took twenty minutes before Felicia knocked on my door. She told me that dinner was almost ready and offered to show me around the orphanage. With the fact that I'm forced to stay here until my body is perfectly healthy and fit to go, how could I possibly say no without offending her? Plus, I get to find out more about my surroundings.
I'd first expected this orphanage to just be a relatively small hotel-like building. Boy, I was wrong. The Felicity House is big enough to look like one of the more fancy churches I've seen in my life – it even has a chapel and one of those weird booths you sit in when you confess your sins (can't remember the name when Felicia told me what it is). Other than the churchlike elements, there's also a small kitchen, a dining room with six small tables surrounding a big one, several restrooms both in each bedroom and a few for guest use, a living room with a TV, and a garden with a couple of trees and swing sets for the children to play in.
After my little tour was done, we went to the dining room and took a seat at the big table, sitting on opposite sides. As more and more people gathered around to eat, I could see how many persons live here. By my count, there were about thirty children ranging from age seven to age fifteen, and with Felicia included, there were ten nuns to take care of them. If what little amount of math I've learned serves me well, there are in total forty humans living here – forty-one if you include me as a temporary guest.
That's another thing… Everyone was staring at me as if I was some exhibit at the zoo. I can't blame them for looking, but I can't be certain on why they're looking at me. Is it because I'm a monster, is it because I'm a new face around them, or is it because I can be considered half-naked? My biggest guess is the first one, but I can't help but feel the third one has a microscopic role in the other nuns' reasons.
At least the food was great. Other than the delicious glass of cold, sweet milk that I haven't had in forever, the main dish they served everyone was hasenpe… hasenfef… hasen… has – something stew-like made from a rabbit. As I ate it, I added another reason for making me so interesting to look at to the list: my lack of table manners.
Hey, why use a fork when you've got claws and why use a knife when you've got strong, sharp teeth?
By the time I was done eating, I noticed that they were only halfway through. Have they been looking at me all this time? Oh well… got nothing better to do, so I can at least keep sitting at the table like a gentleman. And occasionally lick my plate clean.
Hey, I haven't eaten in days; cut me some slack.
My ears perked up when I heard the fat lady three seats to my right – Felicia told me she's the Mother Superior calling the shots around here – clearing her throat. "Sister Felicia," she said dryly. "I understand fully well that it's His divine will that we follow… but I still insist on throwing that monster out."
Oh, just great. I'm still the center of attention. I sat upright from my plate-licking and eyed the nun that I've befriended and the nun that wants me to get lost as soon as possible. My blue-haired friend shook her head and looked at the Mother Superior with pleading eyes. "Our duty as nuns is to help those in need and guide them towards a bright future," she retorted. "That duty concerns both man and monster alike."
The fat lady scoffed and crossed her arms. "Unless you've forgotten, the Creed of Faith belonging to our religion states, and I quote, 'we forsake the Devil, his being and all of his actions'." I could see her cutting a glare in my direction, and I instantly knew what was coming next. "…Actions such as spawning creatures from the bowels of his lair and unleashing them upon our world." Called it.
Felicia frowned. Okay… let's see what your comeback is. "I can assure you that Mr. Taylor is absolutely not in relation to the Devil." Hmm… pretty weak argument, but her firm tone backed it up. I'd give it an eight at most.
"He is not human – and since he's not one of God's angels either, he must be the work of the devil."
"What about animals, then? They're far more inhumane than he is, and He was the one who made them. For all we know, He could also have created Mr. Taylor."
Just as I'd expected, 'Ms. Large and In Charge' replied with a haughty laugh. "Good joke, Sister Felicia, but all that our Lord has created is our world, the animals, and us humans. And we, in return, created the society and laws of our countries all over the world. Every other nonorganic being that isn't a dish is the work of Satan in a parody of God's magnificent masterpiece."
I've had it with this woman and her annoying insults to me. "Oh, cram a sock down your throat, Rosie O'Donnell," I said bitterly.
The absolute look of shock on her face was priceless – take my word for it. Felicia also looked pretty surprised, but seconds later shook her head and went back to eating. It took the Mother Superior minutes before she did the same.
I rolled my eyes and leaned back in my chair, looking around at the dining room's walls. Would've tried to initiate a conversation with any of these ladies sitting next to me, but I think they don't wanna talk to me in fear of getting punished for speaking to the one who just sassed their commander. And I'd bet my tail if I talk to one of those kids, they're gonna pester me in some way for the rest of my stay with the knowledge that I'll get punished for standing up to them. All I want right now is for them and everyone else to leave me alone.
As I looked around, my eyes suddenly locked on something that made my stomach whoop in glee. Right there on the floor, a little mouse was busily chewing away on a small piece of bunny stew that one of the nuns unconsciously dropped in its forepaws. Speaking of doing something unconsciously, my rough tongue took a little trip outside my mouth, along my lips and back into my mouth again. Mice, fish, and small birds – these are the animals I like the most… to eat.
With narrowed eyes and a predatory smile on my face, as well as my tail swishing softly from side to side, I crouched down with my hands and feet on the chair, waiting eagerly for just the right moment to strike down on my unwitting prey. I used to suck at stalking feral critters in the past, but now I'm an expert. If you want any proof, search the various sewers and sandboxes I've passed throughout my whole life.
Seeing the right moment, I leaped at it and… success! I caught the little mouse in my hands, and now it's squeaking in fear. With a triumphant smirk, I declared, "Gotcha!"
"…Um…"
At the sudden voice of one of the nuns, I turned my head to look up at them. They're still staring at me, but in place of the wary expression they had before was one that more or less just flat-out said "What the hell are you doing?"
Shrugging, I got in a sitting position with my feet and left hand pressed against the floor and my little snack hanging by its tail suspended by my right fingers. "Hey, I'm part cat; what'd you expect of me?" I replied. I then turned back to the squealing prey in my hand and licked my lips again. They told the kids there's no dessert tonight, but I've just caught one for me to enjoy. With the sadistic pleasure of slowly sending my prey to its demise, I held it up above my head, laid my head back, opened my mouth as wide as I could, and slowly lowered the mouse into its doom.
The sudden sound of something scraping against the floor distracted me from my treat. I closed my mouth and looked at the source of the noise. I saw that Felicia had bolted upright from her chair, and now she was storming over to where I currently sat, a disappointed look on her face. Then, she snatched the rodent from my hand and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Taylor, but you can't just do that here. As long as you're staying with us, you have to act civilized enough to not eat mice. Besides, kids are watching."
If any of the other nuns had tried that, I would've scratched them. Felicia's the only one here who's actually been nice to me, and throwing that away would be dumber than leaping into a dog kennel with steaks tied to my body. I just crossed my arms and looked away, replying obediently with a hiss of "Fine."
"I'll just let this little thing outside," I heard her say, followed by the sounds of her footsteps slowly fading away.
Drat. I wanted to eat that mouse so bad. I hope I'll find it again during my stay here… or at least one similar or fatter. With nothing else to do, I placed my hands down on the floor and began scratching my right ear with my right leg. Feline flexibility, guys – you can reach anywhere on your body with it.
Meanwhile, I could hear the nuns whispering to each other. With my senses being far superior to humans in any way, I could easily pick up everything they said. "What is Felicia thinking, bringing a beast like him in here like that?" one asked.
"I know. She must either be crazy or really stressed out," another replied.
"I agree 100% with you," a third piped up. "Who in their right mind would help a… a… a… um… What's the word for them, again?"
The first one was the one to reply to her question. "I think they're called 'Catmen' or something."
"No, no – I mean the word that refers to all sorts of demonic beings."
I turned my head in another direction and grumbled, "Darkstalkers." I don't care if she heard it or not, but at least they didn't talk about me anymore.
Darkstalkers… that's what every human call monsters like me, as if it's some sort of universal word for us. Vampires, zombies, mummies – everything that's not human or animal or completely dead is categorized as a Darkstalker, just like the term 'human' categorizes people all over the world like Americans or Europeans or Asians. I know of that term because whenever people who're trying to kill me had lost sight of me, they would always yell something like "Where did that damn Darkstalker go?!"
I don't wanna be around these guys anymore – the mood is just rubbing me wrong in every possible way. With a sigh, I stood up on my feet and walked back up to my room, leaving with the feeling of dozens of eyes looking at my back.
I spent the next hours of the evening doing random things out of boredom like licking my hands or rolling around on my bed. The only thing I did do that wasn't because I was bored was going to the bathroom to get priority number one and two out of the way and down the drain.
And right now, I'm lying on my bed and staring up at the ceiling, occasionally throwing a glance out the windows to see the setting sun and the upcoming moon. My enhanced hearing told me about what everyone else who lives in the Felicity House were up to. Some of the kids were watching cartoons with the volume turned up so high, I wouldn't even need enhanced hearing to know that. After some negotiation (i.e.: angry yelling and scolding) by the nuns, the sound was turned down to a level that couldn't possibly be of harm to anyone. Other than that event, I also heard the nuns have friendly chitchat with each other, as well as praying.
But as time passed and it became darker and darker outside, more and more residents of the orphanage went to bed – I could tell because everything went silent and the different scents of the nuns and children spread and stopped at different locations. And now, as I got a clear visage of the pretty moon hanging on the night sky, all I could hear from the others was nothing but snoring.
Speaking of which, I've gotta go catch a few Z's myself. And so, I closed my eyes and prepared to board the train to dreamland. Now the only thing I can sense other than my eyelids growing heavy is the smell of everyone else who sleeps here in the orphanage, all 39 and…
Wait a minute! 'All 39 and…'? There should be forty people other than me here! Where did that last one go? But more importantly, who's that other being in here?
I snapped my eyes open, bolted upright, and began sniffing the air. Let's see… it's definitely not human… and not an animal either.
Oh crap! It's another Darkstalker!
I leapt out of bed, ripped the door open, and went running down the hallway on all fours – the fastest way for me to move. If that Darkstalker isn't friendly, he or she might kill someone here! And worst of all, if that happens, then when the surviving nuns and children find the mutilated corpse or corpses, I'm sure they'll pin the blame on me!
My nose led me to one of the other's room. Shit! That means it's probably already killed one – would explain why one was missing. I stood up on my feet and knocked hard on the door.
What the…?! The Darkstalker's scent disappeared!
"W-Who's there?" I heard Felicia's voice ask. Oh, great. At least she's not dead.
"It's me, Jonathan," I answered. "I need to come into your room."
"Uh… j-just a sec!" What followed, according to my ears, was the sound of shuffling. Then, ten seconds later, she opened the door and poked her face out. "What is it you want, Jonathan?"
I really don't have time for stalling. I pushed her aside and barged into her room, which looked identical to mine. "Okay, you little bastard, where are you?!" I demanded. The Darkstalker probably has some kind of way to hide its scent.
I don't need any sixth sense to tell that Felicia was unhappy with my rude entrance. "Look, Jonathan," I heard her say in a sour tone, "it's pretty late, and I need to get up early for my morning prayers, so would you kindly leave?"
She's unaware of her imminent danger. I turned to her with a serious glare and told her the truth. "There's another Darkstalker hiding in this very room."
Just as I expected, her face turned pale, her eyes widened, and she put her hands over her mouth as she gasped. "That… But, that can't be!" she said. "You… you must be mistaken! There's no one here other than the two of us!"
I've wasted enough time as it is, so I started searching the room. "I'm not wrong," I told her as I looked under her bed. "Seconds ago, I smelled something inhumane coming from this room."
"Y-You must've smelled wrong!"
I then checked her bathroom, finding no clues or anything odd. "Throughout my life, I've never trusted any part of my body more than my nose – and with good reason, 'cause it's been right every time."
I would have continued my ransacking of Felicia's bedroom, but she quickly walked up to me and tried to stop me by grabbing my shoulders. "Jonathan, please!" she pleaded. "There is no other Darkstalker here!"
Wait a minute… Why didn't I think more of this before? "You know, those nuns were right; your kindness to Darkstalkers like me is very strange," I stated, looking her right in the eyes. "First you save me from dying of hunger and thirst, then you force me to stay here until I'm fully recovered, and now you're protecting a monster that could possibly kill everyone here without a second thought." I shrugged her small hands off my shoulders. "Time to fess up, Felicia. Who exactly are you?"
You know, now that I look closely at her, she's sweating and shaking quite a bit. She then gulped, sighed, and took five steps away from me. "Alright, then… I won't keep it secret for you anymore." Now what's she talking about? "Jonathan… please turn around for a moment."
Alright. Finally I'll get some answers to her weird behavior towards me. I did as she said and turned around, looking at the toilet as she did… whatever. Seconds later, my ears twitched at the sound of… fabric hitting the floor?
Wait… is she stripping?! Is that why she's so nice to Darkstalkers?! Because she has some form of fetish for them?!
"Okay, Jonathan… you may turn back around."
I'm almost afraid to. Keeping my head tilted down and my eyes locked on to the floor like a gentleman, I slowly turned around. Just as I thought… Her black dress lay at her feet.
Her furry… big… clawed feet…
WHAT?!
I quickly tilted my head backwards to fully look at her, and if it wasn't for the fact that I knew she's standing in front of me, it would almost be like looking in a mirror. As I suspected, she did strip down to being completely nude, but that's not the biggest shocker. No, that belonged to the facts that she had cat ears and a tail just like mine, grew fur different places on her body just like me, and her hands and feet were twice as big as before and had claws and fur.
Aside from the obvious, the only differences between her and I was where her fur grew. While the fur on my hands and feet only covers all from the tips of my fingers and toes to my wrist and ankles, hers reaches the shoulders and the lower half of her thighs. I have a clump of fur at the middle of my chest; she has thin strips of fur covering her nipples and the outer sides of her breasts, along with some strips surrounding her belly button. I have fur growing on my shoulders; she has strips of fur a little further up her arms and legs. And finally, where I have fur around my genitalia that make it look like I wear furry boxers, she has fur growing at her crotch and hips, making it look like she's wearing panties.
As for the rest of her body that isn't feline… hot damn. Her legs are beautiful, her body's got some decent muscles, her breasts are big, her curves are just right… she's flat-out gorgeous! In my opinion, she's got the body that every woman would kill to have.
Well, her figure, anyway.
She looked at me with a somber look as she rubbed her left upper arm. "You see… the Darkstalker you smelled… it was me," she admitted.
Of course! Why didn't I realize it before? The moment I knocked on her door, she transformed into a human form – which is something, as far as I'm concerned, that most Darkstalkers can do. But still, I couldn't help staring at her in awe. "You… you look just like me…" I breathed. Pull yourself together, man! I shook my head to snap back to my normal self and gave her a serious stare. "Why did you keep this secret from me, a fellow Darkstalker?"
She looked away from me and tensed her arms. "Well… to be perfectly honest, I was worried for how you'd react when you saw my real form. I thought that the moment you laid your eyes on me, you'd get really mad or even be hostile in general at the sight of another Darkstalker and would want to fight me. Or you might be jealous when I told you about where you are and go tell everyone about me being a… well, you know."
Her logic seems reasonable enough. I crossed my arms and assumed, "The other nuns and the children don't know about this?"
She shook her head. "Who knows what they'd do if they ever find out? With all the additions to the Darkstalkers' bad reputation, I'm sure they'd do something awful to me." She then looked directly at my face, took three steps towards me, and got on her knees as she folded her hands pleadingly. "Please, Jonathan. Don't tell them anything about this. I'll do anything for you if you don't."
There's no way I can say no to her. She saved my life, she gave me a place to stay, she'll let me eat and drink back to full health… and most importantly, she's the first person ever to be nice to me. Plus, she's just like me – a lone soul in a human-ruled world. We've gotta stick together to survive. I smiled down at her and said, "My lips are sealed."
The smile on her face that I've gotten used to returned to her face – a bigger smile, actually – and her eyes just sparkled in happiness. "Thank you, John!" she said. Even her voice overflows with joy. "I owe you, big time!"
How cute. "I've got three things to say to you, though," I added. "First: you don't have to be on your knees and beg."
When she heard, she quickly got back on her feet. "And the other two?" she asked with one eyebrow raised in curiosity. I would have, too, if I was in her stead.
"Second: you don't owe me nothing." My smile grew a bit wider. "You saved my life and let me stay here, remember?"
She laughed at that last sentence. "That's right! How silly of me to forget!" She then tilted her head in anticipation. "And the third thing is?"
I kinda already know the answer, but I'll ask anyway. With a smirk, I asked, "What happed to that mouse you took from me?"
Her smile instantly faded and her cheeks became slightly pink. "Oh… um… well…" She averted her gaze and twiddled her fingers, laughing sheepishly. "…Let's just say I got a little dessert after dinner."
I knew it. I couldn't help but laugh wholeheartedly, and she joined me seconds later. When we stopped, I let out a yawn. "Well, it's getting pretty late…" I stated. "I guess I'll go back to my room for some shuteye."
She nodded. "Yeah, me too." She then turned away from me and bent down to pick up her dress.
…Whoa! Her ass is completely bare of any fur, unlike mine. I could feel my cheeks heat up as I watched her walk over to a nearby dresser and put her clothing away in a drawer. Okay, boy, before she turns back – calm down! Don't let her suspect you've been ogling her butt like some pervert!
I think I managed to subdue my blush enough, for when she turned back to face me, she just smiled in that friendly manner of hers. "Well… sleep tight, John," she said. "And remember: don't say a word to the others."
I smiled back. "I won't." I then walked towards the door, when I suddenly remembered something. I turned back to look at her again. "There's one other thing…"
She tilted her head in curiosity. "What's that?"
I held out my right hand. She just looked at it for a moment before looking back at my face and tilting her head the other way. "Another handshake," I explained. "I want to shake the hand belonging to the real you."
She nodded in understanding, walked up to me, and shook my hand. This is way better than last time, mostly because it doesn't look like I'm crushing her hand. Her grip felt firm yet gentle – fitting for a kind woman with muscles like her.
We then let go of each other, and I backed out of the door to her bedroom. "Goodnight, John," she said.
"Goodnight, Felicia," I said back.
I then began walking back to my own room as I heard her door silently close. I thought I was gonna find my stay here at the Felicity House a bother.
Boy, I was wrong.
dopliss: There you have it, folks. This was my first attempt at writing a first-person perspective. I hope I did well enough for it to be at least passable. And now that a new OC is introduced, let's give him a bio!
Name: Jonathan Taylor.
Age: 30.
Author's nickname: The tomcat Darkstalker.
Gender: Male.
Race: Catman Darkstalker.
Height: 1.7 M.
Weight: 60 Kg.
Appearance: Blue hair, blue eyes, white fur, ears and tail.
Clothing: None.
Abilities: Feline flexibility, enhanced senses, enhanced speed, enhanced strength, metamorphic capabilities (cat and human), sharp claws, prehensile tail.
Weaknesses: Cannot swim, is only street-smart.
Relatives: Unknown (presumed dead).
Bio: Ever since early childhood, this monster has lived his life all on his own. With the continual discrimination towards him by unfriendly humans, he has grown to deeply despise all of humankind. All he seeks in this world is to find the one place where he belongs, where no human would bother him and he can live the rest of his life in peace. He occasionally loses control of his mind to do stereotypical feline things such as chasing mice, play with yarn balls and mewl with other stray cats. With his impressive control over his own carnal urges, he represents the heavenly virtue of chastity.
dopliss: (suddenly sweating) Phew… Is it me, or is it getting hot in here?
(A humanoid shape of pure fire appears next to dopliss)
Living fire: Unwitting fool! If you wish to write a story in this fictional universe, then you shall be supervised by the great Pyron!
dopliss: Wait a minute… Pyron? Aren't you dead in canon?
Pyron: Indeed. And since i am unable to appear in this story for that reason alone, I shall be by your side as things progress.
dopliss: Okay, then. Make yourself at home, just cool down, okay?
Pyron: …If you didn't need to write your stories to their ends, I would kill you for that joke alone.