Human Nature
A Pet Shop of Horrors Fanfiction
By BG-57
Seiryuu
A black sedan pulled up to the curb and a young man climbed out. He wore a conservative dark blue suit and dark sunglasses that hid his sky blue eyes. His straw blond hair was cut short except some stray locks that fell across his eyes. The restaurants and curiosity shops of Chinatown stretched out before him. He smirked slightly as he retrieved a briefcase from the passenger side door. Halfway down the block he found the store he was looking for. A signboard out front said simply: 'Count D'. The paper door slid back, revealing a dark ornately furnished room lined with bird cages and aquariums along the walls. Red lanterns on the ceiling barely pierced the gloom.
"Hello Count?" he called out uncertainly as he took off his sunglasses and pocketed them.
"Greetings Special Agent Orcot," said a soft lilting voice in the shadows.
"Chris is fine," he corrected.
The younger Count D took a step forward and Chris could see he was dressed in a long maroon kimono with a dragon curled across the chest. Although he wore his black hair was slicked back, he bore an eerie resemblance to his father, right down to the different colored eyes. Even his name was the same.
"Are you here for business or pleasure?" inquired the Count.
"Business," stated Chris with a slightly embarrassed grin. The Count gave a disappointed sigh.
"I see," he said, "What can I do for you then?" Chris unsnapped the locks on the briefcase and took out a manila folder.
"I'm investigating a late customer of yours," explained Chris.
"Perhaps you are insinuating that this shop was responsible for this person's demise?" asked the Count with his arms folded across his chest. Chris looked ashen at the suggestion.
"Not in this case," he said hesitantly as he retrieved a glossy photograph from the folder, "Your cooperation in this matter will be greatly appreciated."
"I'll tell you all I know," said the Count taking the photograph and examining it. It was a head and shoulders shot of an ordinary looking young man with close cropped brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses and an expression of deep inner torment. "This is a Mister Scott Moody," he said at last.
"What did he buy from your shop?" inquired Chris quietly. The Count shook his head slowly.
"He bought nothing," he replied, "In fact Mister Moody was trying to return a pet." Chris looked startled.
"So that's what he meant," mused Christopher numbly.
"What do you mean Christopher?" inquired the Count. Chris reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny steel cylinder on the end of a chain.
"His last request was to return these ashes to you," said Chris woodenly, "It's from someone he called Suzy."
"Oh no!" exclaimed the suddenly tearful Count, "She was exceedingly rare!" Chris grimly handed him the cylinder.
"What kind of pet was Suzy exactly?" asked Chris once the Count had regained his composure.
"Suzaku was one of the four sacred beasts," said the Count regretfully.
"Sacred beasts?" inquired Chris. The Count put his hands on his hips and made a disapproving clucking sound.
"Shame on you!" nagged the Count, "After all, you owned one yourself!" Chris blinked back blankly. The Count shook his head sadly as he pulled back a curtain of beads concealing a doorway.
"This way Christopher," he stated. He followed the Count down a long winding corridor with doorways along either side that felt it extended well beyond the dimensions of the city block; he vaguely remembered the shop had been like that when he was a child twenty years before. They stopped before an enormous set of golden double doors. An oriental dragon was emblazoned on the doors far above his head. Chris felt a creeping sense of dread.
"Here we are," said the Count, "Go on in."
"What's in here?" asked Chris as he felt the cool metallic surface.
"Why your pet of course," explained the Count patiently, "It guards a treasure."
"What treasure?" asked Chris in a rising panic.
"Ask for the treasure nicely," said the Count gently, "And bring it back to me."
Chris had a million questions to ask but the Count had already mysteriously vanished, as if he had just evaporated. He slowly drew out his pistol from a shoulder hostler and gently pushed one of the doors open.
The space beyond was enormous. It had a high vaulted ceiling that was supported by golden pillars with serpentine dragons crawling up them, all illuminated by a pair of blazing braziers. The walls were covered with delicately embroidered tapestries between large green vases and wooden cabinets. His footsteps echoed hollowly off the marble floors as he took a tentative step inside. Chris had to stifle a gasp when he saw the sleeping dragon. It was long and graceful with green scales on a snakelike body with four claws tipped with talons. It had three heads and large batlike wings. Each head had fins for ears and whiskers lining the jaws that lead up to a single horn on each snout.
"Easy does it," whispered Chris to himself as he took off his shoes and snuck along the wall towards the back wall. A small couch with plush red velvet sat on the dais surrounded by teak paneled screens. A framed picture caught Chris' eye. Inset in an ornate gilt frame was a crayon drawing of a young blond boy surrounded by three girls, all with dark hair and eyes. One was fuming with smoke, one was smirking smugly, and one was crying projectile tears. Chris took a fearful step back as he recognized his own childhood handiwork. Gradually he became aware of a rhythmic breeze blowing against his neck. He turned his head and saw the middle head of the dragon looming over him, its golden eyes registering amusement.
"Long time, no see Chris," said the dragon in a voice like a thundering gale.
"Gyah!" screamed Chris as he aimed his gun and backed into the wall. The picture fell and hit the floor, cracking the glass pane. Chris began to numbly wonder how it had known his name.
"What the hell was that noise?" snarled the left head sleepily in a voice like a crackling bonfire. It opened a crimson eye that widened in horror at the scene.
"The picture!" roared the left head rising high, "You'll pay for that you bastard!"
"You're making my ears hurt," whined the right head in a voice like a roaring waterfall. It opened its aquamarine eyes and blinked at Chris in puzzlement. "H-how did you get in here?" it asked bashfully.
"I never thought you'd return," said the middle head with detached wistfulness.
"Enough gabbing!" roared the left head, "Let's eat him!"
"Wait a minute Kanan," begged the right head.
"Kanan?" said Chris, his mind pierced by a bolt of memories of an angry violent girl with the same name. He looked up in time to see tongues of flame licking around the jaws of the left head. It opened its mouth and breathed gouts of flame that streamed toward him. Chris closed his eyes and covered his head with his arms but felt nothing. He gingerly opened an eye and saw the right head blocking the path of the flames, the tears streaming out of its eyes vaporizing into steam.
"Stop it both you!" roared the middle head angrily, "Don't you recognize this human?" The flames dissipated as the left head bent down and peered at Chris intently, like he was a bug under a microscope.
"Chris!" breathed the right head in shock. Its eyes rolled up into its head as it collapsed onto the marble floor with a loud crash.
"You killed my sister!" snapped the left head in amazement.
"Junrei just fainted," said the middle head superciliously.
"You want a piece of me?" demanded the left head defensively.
"Wait!" yelled Chris, "Are you guys the Honlon sisters?" The two heads exchanged an intrigued glance.
"Yes, but how did you know?" asked the left head. Chris took a step forward and placed a hand on its snout.
"You're Kanan, the violent one," he said, "And that's Shuko the responsible one."
"Correct on both counts," said the middle head with a toothy, self-satisfied smile. "And dear sweet Junrei is passed out on the floor."
"You're Chris?" demanded Kanan incredulously, "You're supposed to be a sniveling little brat!"
"That was twenty years ago," said Chris with a faint grin.
"Humans age faster than we do," explained the Shuko.
"It's great to see you guys again," said Chris, "But when did you turn into a dragon?" Both heads stared at each other and then began to roar and howl. It took him a moment to realize that they were laughing.
"We've always been a dragon you dope!" exclaimed Kanan, "You just saw us as a little girl."
"Don't worry about it too much," added Shuko, "Now could you throw some incense in that brazier?" Chris walked over to one of the fires and noticed a large green bundle set nearby.
"This one?" he asked. When Shuko nodded he dropped it in. Immediately green smoke billowed out, which made his eyes water. He coughed and backed away, noting the room was now filled with a strange sweet scent. Chris made his way through the green haze and saw a shadowy figure standing nearby. As the incense began to clear he saw a tall young woman with long dark hair and pale white skin. Her ears were fin-like with tassels attached by golden chains and she was dressed in a long flowery silk robe. Chris gulped back surprise.
"It is you!" he exclaimed, "But you look…different."
"We have aged as well," said Shuko serenely.
"So it's been twenty years since we last met?" inquired Chris. Shuko nodded sadly as she took his hand.
"We knew you had to return to the human world," she explained, although she was secretly glad to see him again.
"So how have you been?" asked Chris. Honlon's expression shifted into an angry one as she slugged him in the jaw.
"What the hell?" gasped Chris as he stumbled backward.
"Twenty years!" snarled Kanan, "Not even a damn postcard!"
"Now Kanan, we agreed he had to leave," said Honlon shifting to Shuko again.
"I wanted him to stay!" snapped Kanan.
"You're just being selfish," retorted Shuko. Chris had a hard time keeping up with the personality shifts.
"I'm sorry," he said morosely. Shuko shook her head.
"Don't be," she said.
"I didn't mean to barge in like this," he explained, "The Count sent me for a treasure."
"The Count entrusted the treasure with Junrei," replied Kanan grumpily.
"Can I speak to her then?" he asked.
"That's not a good idea," explained Shuko warily, "It's better to let her think that this was all a dream."
"I owe her an apology at least," stated Chris.
"It's your funeral," said Kanan gleefully. Honlon then collapsed against Chris, who barely caught her.
"Damn it!" he muttered.
A few minutes later Junrei opened her eyes and saw the ceiling high above her. She turned and saw that she was lying across Chris' lap with his jacket draped over her.
"Chris?" she whispered blushing furiously.
"Are you awake, Junrei?" he asked feeling a twinge of guilt. She reached up and touched his face gently.
"I-it really is you!" she exclaimed as the tears began to stream down her face. She had so much she wanted to tell him but she couldn't get the words out.
"Forgive me," he said simply. He hadn't thought that the pets in the shop would miss him at all.
"Don't be sorry Chris," she sighed, "Oh, I'm such a crybaby."
"Well, we both are," he said dryly as he helped her to her feet. She smiled bravely and wiped away her tears.
"Thank you," she said as she took out a small worn wooden box from her sleeve, "This is for you, Chris."
"What is it?" he asked turning in over in his hands.
"My treasure," she replied, "That is why you came." He nodded and put it in his shirt pocket. She eyed his shoulder holster curiously.
"Well, I have a case I'm working on…," he began but stopped when she grasped his sleeve.
"Please come back soon!" she exclaimed suddenly worried.
"I will," he promised putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She watched him leave through the double doors and then pulled his suit jacket closer around her shoulders. Her cold reptilian body could still feel his warmth.
Chris found the Count in the sitting room near the main entrance.
"What happened to your jacket Christopher?" he asked with a hint of amusement. Chris gave a guilty start.
"I must have left it with Honlon," he said rubbing his neck in embarrassment, "I'll get it later." The Count rose smoothly and held out a pale hand tipped with crimson talons. Chris placed the box in his grasp.
"Follow me," he instructed and led him down a corridor. Around a corner the Count found a sliding door that opened into a circular room. Four black stone pedestals sat in a cross formation, a Chinese character marking the base of each pillar. The walls of the room were black marble with red veins. Sunlight streamed through a skylight in the dome shaped ceiling, providing the only illumination. It took Chris a moment to realize the room had a compass rose in the center of the floor. He saw the Count place the box on the eastern pillar and then set the steel cylinder on the southern pillar.
"We must act quickly," explained the Count, "Someone or something wants to bring the four sacred beasts together."
"Is that bad?" inquired Chris.
"Honlon alone would be able to destroy this city quite easily," stated the Count quietly. Chris audibly gulped.
"I think it is time you paid Mister Moody another visit," added the Count cheerfully.
"Didn't I tell you he's…well, dead?" asked Chris. The Count approached so they were practically touching. Something about his smile made Chris feel uneasy.
"Indulge me," said the Count with a wink.