Please forgive me

The door from her cell to the corridor burst outwards as she slammed down on it with a roar. The guards outside leapt to their feet, but a single swipe of a powerful paw caught them both and threw them heavily against the wall.

Rachel looked around with her limited grizzly vision. She smelled the air with her more sensitive grizzly nose, ears alert to detect any sounds.

It was high time to get out of the prison. But first, she had a score to settle with a certain officer.

He was going to regret ever raising a hand against her. Oh, would he regret it! She'd –

The anger steamed up but Rachel quenched it, calmed it, saving it away for later. She had to find him first. Yes; find him. Then, he'd pay. First, calm down. Yes.

Following her nose, she set off at a loping run down a corridor. She was only dimly aware of people coming into the corridor, barely noticing as she ran them right down without even slowing down, and even more dimly aware of loud bangs and sharp pains on her shoulders and sides and back.

At one time, she stopped and roared and turned towards her tormentors. A few leaps, a few slashes, and the annoying bangs stopped.

She continued towards the officer's room and stopped only when she had reached the door. Another guard stood there – but not for long. Soon, he was lying on the floor, parallel gashes across his face.

She had planned to storm into the room, no hesitations, but now she faltered. Her ears picked up voices from inside. The officer, of course, and another voice; Clara's. The officer was shouting – triumphantly, it seemed – while Clara was shrilly screaming back. Rachel caught the phrases "not my fault" and "your own mistake".

Rachel decided that was about as good a time as any to rush in. She took a breath, raised herself on her hind legs and fell forwards at and through the door.

Clara had pulled away from the officer, closer to the door, and was almost crushed under it as it fell under Rachel's weight. She leapt back with a startled cry. The officer, face already red with rage, now turned from the nurse and to Rachel.

"What the –"

'What' isn't the point as much as 'who', Rachel growled. First time we met I promised I'd tear this place apart. I plan to. Starting with you.

He leapt in behind his desk, quickly opening a drawer and pulling out a gun. But Rachel came forwards and suddenly the desk and drawer and gun weren't there anymore. The officer was thrown back as a large splinter caught his shoulder.

Rachel used her nose to find him again, moving the broken desk away and pushed the officer back down when he tried to turn and crawl away. Then she raised her claws and slashed across his back, before sending a paw to slam into his head, sending him rolling across the floor. When he stopped rolling, she slashed across his chest – not too deep – and struck at his neck with another swipe of her paw.

Get up, she snarled. Get up, you piece of crap!

But when she realised he wouldn't be able to comply she raised her paw again and send him tumbling further, back into the remains of the shattered desk, cursing her own choice of morph. A single careless swipe of her paw could kill him, then how was she supposed to make him suffer?

She gave him another light backhand over his chest, causing him to roll limply away from the desk, wondering what to do. But suddenly she saw things more clearly, even through her rage – what was she doing, really? Trying to figure out a way to make someone suffer a slow, agonizing death? Actually considering her options of keeping him alive to feel enough to feel pain but not have any chances at resisting?

Not very nice. Not a good development. In fact, if this continued, she'd turn almost as bad as the officer had ever been.

Well, she was not going to let him live, either, she decided, the anger flaming up again. She let out a snarl of frustration, flexing her claws, glaring at the officer, annoyed that he caused so much trouble even now. Best to just kill him, she thought finally, before something came and interrupted her and the chance passed.

Rachel raised herself on her hind legs, over the cowering officer, to deliver the last, killing blow.

"No!" Clara leapt in between the two, staring up at Rachel.

Out of my way, Rachel said. Or don't you think he deserves to be killed?

Even in front of the furious grizzly Clara did not hesitate. "I'm a nurse, Rachel, I don't think anyone deserves to be killed."

Out of my way, Rachel growled again, and roared madly.

Clara held her ground, but fear was in her eyes. Rachel swept her aside with what in comparison was a gentle swipe of her paw, but sent Clara flying into a wall. The nurse sank down to the floor with a heavy sob.

Rachel huffed, straightened up again, and glared down at her former tormentor, who now was shaking, barely able to breath through the blood that flowed out of his mouth and nose. His face was ripped open by then, not to mention the rest of him, and if Rachel hadn't been blinded by her limited grizzly vision she would have seen that. Not that it would make a difference; with the hate and fury rushing through her, she would probably have been pleased at the sight.

"Rachel, please," said Clara from her place by the wall. "He'll be dead soon anyway, even if you don't kill him. You'll just give him an easier death."

Rachel spun towards the nurse and roared her response to that.

Clara pulled further away, seeking support from the wall, face pale as ashes. "And there is always the question of getting out alive yourself," she said. "If you keep him alive… you can demorph, and morph him. Then you would be able to leave easily."

I can fight my way out, Rachel spat. I'll coat my route with blood and bones if I have to!

"It's easier," Clara said. "It avoids unnecessary bloodshed. Most of those guards have never done you any harm. They're innocent. Rachel, please!"

Rachel glared down at the officer, and then back at Clara.

"He's done for, whatever we do," Clara said, daring a glance at the bloody heap of human, visibly shaking. "You better hurry."

To Clara's intense relief, Rachel began demorphing – but not without a snarl.

Rachel demorphed back to a body without bruises, without pain, and without that missing hand. She kept an eye on Clara, not really trusting the nurse, but Clara was too frightened to do much else than keep from fainting.

Rachel glared down at the officer. Clara had been right; he was pretty badly beaten. Wouldn't live much longer, whatever anyone did.

Then she remembered what he had done, felt yet another flash of rage and kicked at him for good measure before lowering a hand to acquire him.

Tobias, again freely roaming the corridors after he had convinced his terrified guard that he was the only one able to calm the escaped Rachel down, had hurried towards the officer's room. He stopped at the turn of the corridor, hesitating, wondering if Rachel would have time to recognize him before she attacked.

She was furious. That much was clear. The guard that normally stood outside the officer's room was on the floor, face split into three parts, his neck snapped by the blow he must have received, lying in a puddle of his own blood.

But Tobias heard no grizzly roars. No sounds at all. He waited, watched, wondered if maybe he should –

Then the door to the officer's room opened.

And out came the officer.

Tobias sagged against the wall, pulling back with a stifled sob.

No.

How could he have survived? Impossible. Impossible.

But there he was. Alive. Not closing the door behind him, but leaving it slightly open. Glancing around and then hurrying away in the other direction.

Tobias quenched a desire to despair, pushed fear out of his mind and hurried to the door, glancing inside.

He only saw the floor. And the patches of blood that stained it.

That was enough to make him reel back in horror. All that blood, and the only survivor was the officer… He sank down against the wall and buried his face in his hands.

"Please forgive me, Rach," he whispered. "Please… I should have…"

But with sudden determination, he raised his head, bent down, took the gun from the dead soldier on the floor beside him, and began following the disappearing officer.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Author's Note;

That's the last chapter. Cliffie end, as you might have noticed. *evil laughter* What happens next is up to you readers to figure out.

I decided not to use the sad ending – you can probably figure out what that would have been. But I didn't like the happy ending either. Didn't fit rest of the story. So this is the best alternative.