C h a p t e r SIX

Violet was on the verge of tears. She was lost and hurt. And nobody was going to help her. What an unfair world it was, so cruel to people who were confused.

Just then, a hoard of people rushed down the street, picking Violet up as they ran past. Violet was terrified. She was travelling at fifty kilometres an hour in the arms of someone who looked vaguely familiar.

She squinted up at them. That face – the mono brow, the shiny, shiny eyes, the dominating nose, the sneering lips – she had seen that face before, she just couldn't remember where.

She was staring at it intently, cracking her head trying to figure out where she'd seen such a face when suddenly the person holding her threw her up into the air.

Violet screamed. Someone caught her. She looked up at her saviour and to her horror, he had the face of the person who had cruelly tossed her.

Instinctively, Violet fought to get out of his arms before he tossed her again. You must remember that this is not an extremely easy task, especially when you are injured, being bumped around and travelling faster than you'd like to.

However, Violet was not a girl to give up and she had almost succeeded in slipping out of his arms when suddenly she was tossed up and caught by a person with the exact same face once again.

She cursed under her breath, not realising how lucky she was because had she been able to slip out of his arms, she would immeadiately be trampled and suffer further injuries.

Looking around, Violet noticed that this whole mob of a hundred or wo people ALL looked identical – monobrows, shiny, shiny eyes, dominating noses and sneering lips. Violet's jaw dropped. Sure she'd forgotten a lot since a tree branch collided with her cranium, but some things in her short life had engraved itself so deep in her mind that see could not forget them. And this face was one of them.

It was so terrifying Violet scrambled to get away. She was being carried and passed around by these treacherous figures and she liked not the thought of what they might do to her.

To her relief, the mob soon dropped her onto the ground and charged off. Violet stared as they continued to pick up pedestrians and wondered what they were doing.

She was about to giggle at how silly they all looked when a hand placed it self on her shoulder. "Well well well," said a voice, "what have we here?"

***

Sunny choked as one of the dogs tried to impress her. It was a rather hilarious site. She laid her little head back on the soft dirt as many dogs came to satisfy her every need. She was in such comfort she decided being King of Dogs wasn't so bad after all.

***

"This isn't fair Olaf," said Klaus evenly, "I am not a dog and you know it. You cannot make me one."

Olaf closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "We've been through this many times," he said impatiently, trying with difficulty to keep his temper, "As a dog, you will be of more benefit to me."

Klaus disagreed. "As a dog, I will only show how little respect you have for other human beings. Besides, my knees are tired, can't I at least sit on a chair?"

"Oh my goodness gracious, you poor, poor boy. You have to be on hands an knees all day long," Olaf laughed, before changing his tone to a fierce one, "If you are reluctant to be what I tell you to be, you may suffer more than you need. I suggest you behave like a proper dog."

"Fine," said Klaus and he did something both disgusting and stupid. He jumped on Olaf and bit him on the hand.

Olaf shrieked like a girl (no offence to girls). He ran around the room with Klaus dangling off his hand yodelling like a goat on drugs.

Klaus held tight, biting as hard as he could. The taste of Olaf's hand was horrible – Klaus had never seen Olaf do anything to improve his hygiene – and the pain in his jaw was excruciating, but Klaus knew that the moment he let go, he would have lost.

Olaf knew the same thing and gritted his teeth trying hard not to give in. Of course he knew that if he didn't give in soon, his hand would never heal. He had to do something quick.

Olaf ran into the kitchen and picked up a cup. With one hand, he turned on the tap, fille d up the glass and splashed it on Klaus.

Klaus felt the felt the cold water hit his face and gasped. His jaw had slipped down Olaf's hand but he quickly bit down again, wishing ever so hard that he had teeth like Sunny.

Olaf yelped. He now had two bite marks on his hand. He had almost gotten used to the first bite because the nerves had been numbed but now he was faced with torture on good flesh.

"Alright! Alright!" cried Olaf, "I give in! You don't have to be dog, I shan't treat you as a dog, just LET GO OF MY HAND!"

Klaus looked up at Olaf, making sure he was not lying. Olaf looked so pitiful Klaus could have laughed, but his jaw was under immense pain. He opened his mouth and dropped to the floor.

Olaf ran to the sink and rammed his hand under the cold water, moaning. He looked at Klaus loathingly as Klaus rubbed his sore teeh and gums. The rules of the game had now changed. It was now a survival of the fittest.