Mark update, hope everyone has had a happy Halloween! Might miss next weeks update because of a research paper I need to do. Wish you all the best, hope you enjoy.
Reupload, for some reason this chapter didn't load correctly last time. Thanks to anon who messaged me about it.
The Pitbull awoke to the heavy plodding of metal on concrete. He was sitting in a chair. Well, more like strapped to it. The steps reverberated through the inky blackness as they grew louder. They seemed to be all around him at once. His night vision did nothing in the total dark that enveloped whatever room he was currently in. The dog took a sniff to see if he could smell anything familiar. He did, and it made the situation far worse.
The scents he could derive were blood, gunpowder, and his boss, Troy. They were strong, overwhelmingly strong, like the Shepherd had just shot someone before him. The Pit's mind retraced his steps leading up to where he is now. They were responding to a call they received from one of their businesses being broke into. They found the place was wide open, guards were dead, he went down the steps into the basement, and… and then he tripped. Now he was here. Wherever here was.
"H-hello?" He called out. The steps stopped and a barrage of light assaulted his sensitive eyes. The dog fought to pry his lids down to see anything. A silhouette of his bosses' head fur and ears was the first thing he could make out, except, there was no body to match. There was only a pole that supported the cranium of his late leader's likeness; the Shepherd's maw lay agape to expose the metal that ran into the skull. The more the Pit's eyes adjusted the more he could see just how mangled the carnivore was. Most of the hide had been ripped off the left side of his face and shrapnel had dug trenches into his teeth and bones. His left eye consisted of only its empty socket while the right bulged out, looking directly at him. This had once been the fearless head of their troop. An untouchable walking superpower in the flesh, reduced to an ornament.
The dog frantically struggled against the steadfast restraints. The straps cut into his wrist as he continued to squirm. He wante- no, needed out of this hellhole.
The standing lights in front of him dimmed, and the plodding started again. Now he could see its source. A colossal creature of olive metal. It passed in front of the lights and pulled the canine's head off its pike. It pulled out the remaining eyeball, ripping the orb from the optical nerve, and let the Shepherd clunk on the floor. The Pit's mouth went slack-jawed in horror and was quickly punished for it. The being forced its titanium hand into the living dog's mouth and grabbed hold of his lower jaw, crushing some of his teeth. Steadily, the eyeball hovered over to the ajar lips.
"Do you like meat?" The creature asked in an even tone.
The Pit's eyes, bewildered with terror and pain, snapped to its reflective visor. He rapidly shook his head, which resulted in him shaking his body due to his face being locked in place.
"Will you ever eat meat again?" It questioned again.
The dog shook again.
"Good." The Spartan dropped the eyeball which hit the floor with a plop. "Now hold still." James proceeded to raise a pair of pliers to the Pit's teeth. The dog lasted through the removal of four fangs before passing out.
10 minutes later
James scrolled through his contact list on his HUD. He hovered over a character named "V" before selecting it. There were two rings before someone answered.
"It is good day when you call, friend. What do you have for me tonight?" The voice was scratchy with a thick accent, reminiscent of the Eastern Europeans long ago.
"Kota's Trinkets. 3 machines, 15 paws, a feather, and some tools. You take the appliances and the bobbles. Pack up the tools and leave them at my shop."
"Are you sure? I know of a carpenter who has been in the market for some new hardware. He pays very well, and I charge very low commissions for friends."
"It's not about the money."
"I know, but it is never too early to start saving. Perhaps for college or retirement?"
"Neither. I'm a worker through and through."
"Of course. No rest for the weary. The tools will be in the shop by sunrise. I wait for your next call my friend." The line went dead.
An Andean Condor stepped out from the driver side of his cube truck. The transport blocked the alleyway from prying eyes on the street. The backdoors of the truck swung open. Three Dingos, a Spotted Hyena, and a Racoon dropped down, all carrying canvas bags. The team passed the three abandoned cars on their way to the loading dock.
The whispery Racoon felt over the vehicles, seeing every curve with its paws. "Pretty nice rides here V. Gonna turn a nice profit."
"Of course we are. We would not be here if not for the promise of gain." The Hyena snickered in glee.
As they entered the storage room, they found the scene of the conflict.
"A massacre." One of the Dingos pointed out.
The Hyena's finger traced the steel bar that formed around the Maliwa's skull. "A massacre indeed. Your friend is adept in the art of violence, V."
The Condor nodded in agreement. "So he is. Let us accept the opportunity he has given us and get to work."
The animals dropped their bags and began unpacking their contents. Plastic wrap, collapsable mops, gray spackle kits, and jugs of bleach were the items of primary importance. The Racoon collected the guns, knives, jewelry, and wallets of the dead.
"He wants the guns again." V told the Racoon. He sparked up a cigarette as he supervised his workers. The lighter's flame exposed the deep wrinkled lines in his face.
The scavenger looked dejected as he palmed the submachine guns. "Aw come on Boss, the serial numbers are already scrubbed. We could turn around and sell these in no time. Maybe even to one of the gumis."
V shook his head. "Not our choice to make. Plus, business has not been good with them lately. We would not get a good deal."
The Hyena managed to pry the Maliwa's skull from the shelf, before letting the body fall to the floor. "Does your friend have something to do with it? He certainly seems to have the means for change."
"Perhaps, but he is not the talkative sort." The Condor took a long drag before holding the smoke. A plethora of theories and speculations crossed his mind before he deeply exhaled, letting his ideas go with the wind. "He's a worker through and through."
The Dingos wrapped the looted bodies up in the plastic and carried them out to the truck. The Hyena disguised the bullet holes and moped up the blood. When it was all done they packed up their equipment about an hour before sunrise. The shopkeeper would return to a clean storage area and an empty basement. If he returned at all that is.
The Dingos hopped into the cars and followed V out of the alleyway. Next stop was the shop.
The Pit woke up once more feeling lightheaded with a dull pain in his jaw. His mouth was filled with gauze packing. He put a finger to his cheek and noted the automatic give where there was once a hard surface. He switched to the other cheek and did the same. All of his teeth were gone. Noticing he was shirtless, the Pit saw that his fur had been shaved down considerably and there was bandaging on his chest. Peeling the gauze and cloth back, he saw his fur had been burnt through and his skin was bubbled up from a burn. He had been branded.
"Pretty rude awakening, huh pup?" A burly Panda with a clipboard sat in a chair near the foot of his bed. "Every choice we make has a consequence, you just weren't expecting this one probably."
Why was he here? Where was his group? What had happened to them? The Pit looked around to see if there might be anyone else here he knew, but the room was a small concrete box just big enough for his bed and a couple chairs. It wasn't much different from the first room he'd woken up in, besides the medical device he was connected to.
The ursa gave a laugh at the twitching of the dog's desperate eyes. "There's nobody else here pup. None that you would know anyway. Your gumi is more than likely dead and nobody knows you're here besides me and your new boss. You're just here to recover from your treatment, can't have you break your promise right?"
"Will you ever eat meat again?" The trapped question sent a chill down the Pit's spine. There was no way he would have said yes. That thing would have killed him! That… Spartan.
Before actually seeing him with his own eyes, the Pit had heard of the beings known as Spartans. They had made headline news a month ago after their arrival on the planet. They'd immediately taken a deal with the Black Devil and made their homes in the shadows of the Black Market. The giants couldn't be seen, but they could certainly be felt. An onslaught of arrests and operations against the four major organizations seemed to go on day and night without rest.
Within the first week the gumis had reclused into their corners of the market, leaving a power vacuum in some of the unmonitored territories. That's where the Kibagumi had stepped in, an all dog group dealing specifically in livestock. Their numbers exploded almost instantly and they began roaming the streets in droves. The Kibigumi grew with little organization, it was more of an idea than an actual gang. They'd even fought viciously against other packs for territory, with the losers falling in line under the winning pack.
For all their growth, their operations collapsed in on themselves over the weeks to come. Every other night a different pack would disappear into thin air, no bodies or tracks to speak of. Now the Pit knew why. What he didn't know was what exactly had been done to him. What does he mean by my treatment?
The Panda sheathed his pen into his board and stood. "Well I'll leave you to rest for tonight. You're going to need it." He opened the door and motioned to leave. "Oh, one last thing, I would advise against running. For your sake." Finally leaving, the lights switched off and the Pit was left with only his thoughts.
Gohin walked into his main office and was greeted by the helmetless green giant. He sat in one of the therapy chairs, staring at a tacpad on the table. The titan's curly auburn hair casted a shadow over his eyes because of the overhead light. He seemed to be enjoying a cup of bamboo tea, or at least tolerating it. It was hard for the Panda to get a good read on the Spartan, even with his helmet off.
"Synopsis?" The rough soldier rumbled.
Gohin sat down across from James. "Good. Didn't even seem meat deprived, or hungry for that matter. That shouldn't even be possible after thirty-six hours. If these implants are the real deal, we're looking at some real world changing stuff." He smiled as he picked up his own tea. "Hell, they might put you up for a peace prize."
James placed his cup next to the tacpad before turning it off. He leaned back a little. "It still needs more trials."
Gohin's smile waned and he nodded. "Of course." Silence ruled the conversation for a while. There seemed to be a common theme when talking to the Spartan. If it's not about an objective, it doesn't need to be talked about. As a therapist, it was only natural that Gohin wanted to test that idiosyncrasy.
The Panda relaxed into his seat. "So, James, what do you think of the city?"
The Spartan turned his head up to look at Gohin. His eyes were still hidden, but some light freckles became visible on his cheeks. He looked younger than the Panda had initially thought. "It's like any other city. There are the people with power and there are the people without it."
That was something at least, he had his foot in the door now. "What do you think about the people in power now? Are they good or bad to you?"
James looked back down to his tea. "There are no good people. There are people who follow their ambitions and those who do not."
That's certainly an interesting mindset. "So you don't see our work as good?"
James looked to Gohin with steely green eyes. "Work is work. You do it to achieve a goal. The repercussions of work can be anything. I killed sixteen people the day before yesterday, and another 51 in the last month. Would you say that I am good?"
"I'd say that there are certainly worse people."
"That does not answer my question."
Damn son, give yourself some credit. Your flipping this place on its head and doing far more than I could have ever hoped. "You're better than you think you are. You've got a stronger conviction than anyone I've ever seen before, and your actions show it." Gohin took a sip of his tea. "The average person is either unable or unwilling to do what is right. That is why we're here, to do what others cannot."