Side Chapter 3: Reborn Through the Maw of Death.

I really am pathetic.

Staring back out of the mirror was a female sheep with light gray wool and an off-white face and hands. She had just gotten out of the shower and was doing something she had come to dread every night. She was taking a look at herself. She sighed.

"Has my face always been this flat?"

She reached up and touched her nose. As most sheep did, her snout was wide and somewhat flat. However she felt that hers was exceptionally squashed looking. She looked down at the rotund stomach she had and tried to suck it in. Eventually she had to release her breath, and her belly jiggled as it resumed its resting form.

I've gotten fatter…. Sitting at a desk all day and eating like an animal twice my size will do that. And my stupid body decided to store almost all of it on my gut. Couldn't you at least put most of it on my thighs? Or my breasts? Or even my butt? No, of course it has to be mainly on my tummy. Typical.

She looked at her eyes and groaned.

The dark bags under my eyes have gotten bigger. Should I start using makeup? Not that it would really help. And my eyes are so droopy anyway, I always look lethargic.

She reached up and tried to do anything to tame the mound of wool on her head. However, it was just as wild and frizzy as it always was. She let out a defeated sigh.

"My body is a literal dumpster."

The sheep's name was Nimah, and she had turned thirty a month ago. As she walked out into her small apartment she shuffled over to the refrigerator and opened it. Cans of soda and bottles of cheap wine filled the space beside a few takeaway bags from various fast food restaurants. She grabbed a soda and opened the freezer to retrieve another tv dinner to heat for her meal tonight. Her terrible diet definitely contributed to her woes regarding her physic, however once she got home from work she didn't feel like doing anything.

The microwave beeped and she pulled out the cheesy potato bake she was having and grabbed a fork. She flicked on the tv and began to chow down on the gooey entree. The box said it fed two medium creatures, but it wasn't very good re-reheated. Besides, the only thing that made her feel any better about her day was eating, so why deprive herself of what little shred of happiness she had. She stretched her legs out and pushed some old food rappers onto the floor to join their older brethren. Her apartment was a dump, trash littered every surface and she hadn't done any cleaning since a few months after she had moved in some three years ago. She belched after a long pull from her drink and looked down at herself. She hadn't even put any clothes on because she didn't want to do any laundry.

Look at me. A fat, naked loser covered in cheese grease wallowing in her own self loathing. I'm a waste of space.

She turned up the tv as another soap opera started. When she was younger she had always thought that she would get a boyfriend later on in life. She'd never been asked out in school, she had been too shy and self conscious about her appearance to really draw attention to herself. As such, she had always focused on getting a good job so she could find a decent man when she was older. But now she was thirty, and still had never even really talked to a guy, let alone date one. She laughed humorlessly and poked her stomach.

"Yeah, because I'm such a prize. Who wouldn't want to be with me. Look at all I bring to the table. My amazing housekeeping skills, my delicious cooking." She accentuated this point by polishing off the last of her meal and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand. "And who could forget my stellar good looks and shining personality."

She slid the empty plastic tray from her meal onto the table that stood in front of her couch between her and the tv. There was a clatter as some older plates fell off the edge and to the floor. This and the couch were the only of her sparse pieces of furniture not covered in dust. She finished her drink and dropped the can to the floor. As she looked around at the squalid conditions she had allowed herself to live in, she felt even worse about herself. With a grunt she got up and staggered to the fridge again. She needed to make herself feel better, and as such she needed a pick-me-up. She grabbed a spoon, a bottle of wine, and a tub of ice cream and returned to the worn couch. She sighed.

I bet my parents would be so proud of me.

She was the middle child of her family, and had never stood out. Her older sister was smart, her younger sister was beautiful, and she was awkward with a hormone imbalance. She had first learned this when she hit middle school and began to gain weight and developed serious skin problems. Her acne had been so bad that her parents had needed to get her special lotion to help control it. Fortunately her skin wasn't as bad as it had been back then, but the weight issue had only grown worse. But even still, she wasn't taking chances on her face becoming an angry, swollen sore again. Hence why she avoided makeup.

That and why bother wearing makeup. Who am I trying to look good for?

She felt a pang of sadness as she recalled her mother telling her that this was just a phase and she'd grow out of it. Nimah glowered as she realized how many years ago that had been.

Could I have at least gotten a single positive characteristic from either parent? My sisters got either Dad's brains or Mom's good looks, and I got nothing.

The last time she had seen her family was at her birthday party. She hated seeing them, not because she didn't like them, but because she was afraid they would realize how much of a failure she was. She had needed to be careful with what she wore to her party so they wouldn't notice how much weight she had put on over the year it had been since her last birthday. She was able to make excuses for almost every other event her family gathered for, but her birthday was difficult to dodge. She sighed and crammed another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She had gotten to see her smart, successful older sister who was on her way to becoming a partner at a prestigious law firm. And her gorgeous fashion model younger sister with her handsome husband and perfect baby. And there she was, the fat receptionist who didn't even wear clothes around her home. It made her sick to think about.

With a sigh, she dropped the now empty container of dessert to the floor to join the others. This was her third quart of ice cream this week, and it was only Tuesday. She had a problem.

That's the first step, at least. Recognize you have a problem. If only I had something other than problems.

How many times was it now? How many times had she vowed to turn things around. To eat better, and exercise. To clean her apartment and do her laundry. Yet she had slowly gotten worse and worse each time. At first, she had managed to keep to her "new life" for a few weeks before the self pity dragged her down again. Then it was a week, then a few days, to a few hours, to now simply idly thinking about bettering her circumstances. She watched tv for a while before getting up and turning it off. She had at least enough dignity to sleep in a bed and not on the couch. Even if she hadn't cleaned the bed in a while, or made it. As she flopped into her bed and pulled the wrinkled sheets over herself, she felt more misery well up inside of herself.

The world would be better off if I just disappeared. I'm worthless.

Nimah hated taking the train to work. She hated leaving her home in general. She always felt like everyone was staring at her. She did her best to obscure as much of herself as possible with baggy clothing and her purse, but she knew how obvious her weight must be to onlookers. She hurried from the train to the large building where she worked. She worked for an office equipment company that sold printers, computers, and anything else necessary in the corporate world. However, despite her degree in marketing, the only position she had managed to secure was as the office manager. Or as she liked to call it, the over glorified receptionist.

Her day was spent answering the phone, managing the boss's schedule, and doing menial tasks like refilling the paper in the copying machine or making coffee. She walked by the desk of the coworker she hated the most. This coworker was another female sheep, however she was gorgeous. All the male herbivores in the office were smitten by her. Her curly white wool, wide eyes, and pretty face made her look innocent and pure. Nimah hated how much better she looked than her.

It's so unfair. She doesn't even have to try to look amazing.

With a grumble Nimah realized she didn't put any effort into her appearance either. That just made her dislike that no good, perfect sheep even more.

After work she took the train back home. She would change out of her clothes and put them somewhere where she could find them to wear again, unless they were too dirty to wear. She then took a shower before collapsing on the couch to drown her sorrows in food and mindless entertainment. This cycle repeated until Friday when she got home and showered once again before opening her refrigerator.

"Huh? I could have sworn…."

She checked the freezer, then the fridge again. Both were devoid of food. Nimah grimaced. Had she really eaten everything in the house already? Her stomach rumbled, and with a sigh she put some clothes that weren't too filthy on so she could go buy more food.

She left her apartment and headed down a side street to avoid the possibility of anyone seeing her. It would be too embarrassing to be caught sneaking off to buy more food after shamelessly binge eating everything in her apartment over the past few days. She was halfway to the store when a rumbling growl came from behind her. Nervously, Nimah turned and saw a shadowy figure staring at her from down the street. There was nobody else around. Nimah gulped and slowly backed away, slinking towards the alley she had cut through to try to return to her apartment. However, the beast sprang at her before she could make it far.

Nimah didn't even run. She simply shifted back a few steps before the creature tackled her and pinned her to the ground. Nimah stared up at her attacker and berated herself.

What a lazy fatass. Didn't even try to run. Not that I could have outrun anything but a sloth. I haven't run since high school.

She looked up at the animal currently pinning her to the ground and gazed into its face. It was a male dingo with a somewhat sallow face and wide eyes. He was panting heavily and bared his fangs as a growl escaped him again. Strands of saliva began to drip from his mouth as he stared down at her. Nimah wasn't sure why she wasn't more panicked. Some part of her was screaming at her to do something, but for the most part she just felt… numb. Maybe because she didn't really care. Maybe part of her wanted this. To finally be free of her misery, and to finally be noticed. Even if it was just as a predation victim. She looked into her killer's eyes and was surprised to see a similar look in his face to the one she had when she looked in the mirror.

I know that expression. It's self loathing. He really doesn't want to do this, but he can't stop.

She sighed and went limp in his arms. The carnivore's expression shifted to slight surprise. Nimah spoke quietly.

"It's okay. I understand. Just… can you do something for me?"

The dingo hesitated. As she looked at him, she realized that this was the closest she had ever been to a boy before. She was about to die and this was the most physical contact she had received from a male. She had an idea. One final wish.

What is wrong with me? Am I seriously about to say this? And why am I not calling for help? Somebody might be able to hear me and rescue me!

But she just couldn't seem to make herself care. She had been wasting her life for years. If she was being honest, she didn't think she deserved to keep living.

"Two things actually. One, please be gentle when you devour me. I won't struggle, so just make it quick. And two… would you kiss me?"

The dingo was taken aback. His growl shifted to a more confused grumble, his eyes wavering. Nimah continued, staring deep into his wide eyes.

"I've never had a boyfriend before, and never had a first kiss. I just don't want to die without ever experiencing that."

The dingo hesitated. Nimah closed her eyes. Whether she felt a pair of lips on her mouth, or teeth in her throat was up to her predator. Either way, she didn't feel that bothered by it.

I'll probably be tasty. Lots of fat and no dense muscles. I can feel good about that at least, even if it is morbid.

She flinched as she felt something warm and damp brush her lips. She waited, then pressed into it. She wasn't sure if it was supposed to be this wet, or feel like this, but she was finally getting her first kiss. She pushed into it as hard as possible, savoring her last moments. If she was going to die, at least she wanted to die content. There was a drop of moisture on her face, followed by another. Nimah opened her eyes to see that the dingo had squeezed his eyes shut as fat teardrops leaked from his eyelids.

Am I really that bad at kissing?

Eventually he pulled away and gasped.

"W-what did I, I…. Oh gosh, I can't—"

He fell backwards and clasped his face with both hands. Nimah stayed where she was on the ground, very confused.

What… just happened.

She heard crying and looked over at the dingo. Sure enough, he was sobbing into his hands. Nimah felt a little hurt. Sure she wasn't very pretty and she was fat, but it couldn't have been that bad to kiss her. She was about to say something when the carnivore choked out,

"I-I'm s-s-so s-sorry! I-I almost… I almost—!"

He trailed off into pitiful sobs. Nimah felt relieved.

Oh, he's crying due to guilt. Not because of the kiss.

As she looked at him, she was struck by how similar his eyes had been to hers. That deep well of self-hatred that drove them to self-destructive behavior. There was a lot of her in this dingo, and she couldn't seem to be scared or angry at him. Instead, she felt… sympathy. Carefully, Nimah scooted over to where he was sitting on the cold concrete of the alleyway and sat beside him. She then leaned her head against his shoulder. The dingo flinched and let out a panicked yelp.

"W-what are y-you doing! Y-you n-n-need to run!"

"It's okay. I feel the same way."

The dingo sniffled, his head tilting in confusion.

"W-what?"

"Look at me. Do you think I let myself get this big because I was happy with my life. I'm miserable, and I eat to make myself feel better."

The dingo looked down at her and hesitated before cautiously wrapping his arms around her. He buried his face into her wool and squeaked out,

"I-I lost my j-job today. H-how am I s-s-supposed to afford anything without a job! I'm such a failure!"

Nimah pressed herself deeper into his arms. He was warm, and his arms were strong. It was strange, despite what had happened a few seconds earlier, she didn't feel unsafe. She felt quite content in his embrace.

"I'm sorry."

"T-the worst part is… the only reason I got fired is because I'm a carnivore! The company I worked… used to work for decided to stop making some products that were geared towards carnivores and focus exclusively on herbivore products. M-my boss told me that he wanted salesmen t-that 'represented the clientele' and that I might scare them! F-four years at that company! And all for nothing!"

Nimah reached her arms around the canid and hugged him. He sniffled and rubbed her side.

"Y-your so soft. I've never touched a sheep before. Your wool is what I imagine clouds feel like."

Nimah smiled as the dingo pressed his cheek deeper into her wool and rubbed her arm. They sat like that for a while before the Dingo mumbled,

"Thank you. I-I… I feel a lot better now."

Nimah felt so… light. She'd never had someone feel better for being around her or confide in her. Heck, she barely even got noticed. Yet she had calmed this poor, distraught beast down and soothed his pain. She leaned her head against his neck.

"I'm glad."

"I'm sorry for… what I almost did. There's no excuse. I… I just snapped. I'm pathetic."

"It's okay. I'm… pathetic too. I don't even try to resist my cravings, or try to do something about my laziness. I can't blame you for doing the same."

There was a pause before the dingo hoarsely whispered,

"But why? Why are you so calm about this? I almost killed you."

Some part of Nimah, some instinctual and subconscious aspect of her provided that answer.

"Because I think I wanted to die. But… maybe now I don't have to."

"I don't understand."

"I don't either."

They fell silent, and eventually the dingo got to his feet and carefully pulled her up as well. They looked at each other, sheep and dingo, for a while before he squeezed his eyes shut and brushed past her.

"I'm so sorry for everything."

And just like that, Nimah was alone once more. She felt dazed. It had all happened so quickly. She could feel the bruising on her body where he had pinned her to the ground, the moisture of his saliva and tears on her face, and the chill of the night without his warm fur pressed against her. She shuddered.

Was that really the first conversation I've had all month? And only because I almost died?

Walking on autopilot, she returned to her apartment. Her hunger was forgotten as she opened the door and looked at the mounds of garbage cluttering the floor and every available surface. Nimah squared her jaw.

"No more. No more!"

She hurried over to the kitchen and pulled the unopened box of trash bags she had under the sink and tore it open. With an intensity she had never felt before, she began scooping wrappers and treys and cans into the plastic bags until they were full. One by one she filled the bags, as she did her mind raced. She was alive. She was alive! Her life didn't have to be meaningless, and she didn't have to hate herself! She thought of that feeling, of being on the edge of death, and used it to push onward. She was sweating now, this was the most intense physical activity she had done in years. Sensations kept flashing through her mind. The rough, cold ground. The pain of being grappled and restrained. The warmth of his lips on hers. The tragic look in his eyes as they welled with tears. She was alive!

It was almost midnight when Nimah sat down on her couch huffing and puffing for breath. The floors and furniture were spotless. There wasn't a piece of trash to be found. She staggered towards her room and the bathroom beyond to wash the sweat off. As she passed the mounds of soiled clothing littering her room, she clenched her fists. Tomorrow she would clean her clothes, and then scour her filthy apartment. She would not spend another night in filth and squalor. She had lived for a reason. She was supposed to be alive. Once she had cleaned herself, Nimah collapsed into bed. The adrenaline from the events of the night had worn off, followed by deep exhaustion. She closed her eyes and felt the phantom sensation of those canid arms around her. She rolled over.

I want… to see him again.

She knew how crazy it sounded. He had almost murdered her, and yet she felt drawn to him. That shared sorrow, the pain in his face. They were the same, plagued by the same emptiness. And together… they had felt whole.

Weeks passed, and Nimah didn't go back to her old ways. Her apartment stayed clean, and she even added some decorations she had seen were popular among canids. She had even turned over a new leaf with her diet. Rather than eating a container of ice cream a day, she limited herself to a scoop. No more rich, fatty foods and sugary sweets to numb her feelings. Instead, she tried to balance her food somewhat. She even tried her hand at cooking some simple dishes, and learned how to make carnivore friendly meals. Every night, she went for a walk through the backstreets that lead to the grocery store and back again, searching for her dingo.

The biggest change happened one night when she got out of the shower and looked in the mirror. She had dreaded this before, but now… it wasn't that bad. Her wool was still frizzy and her eyes still droopy, but she was happier with how she looked. She was still a plump sheep, and that probably wasn't going to change very much. However, she wasn't as bloated and lethargic as before. She felt… like she wasn't actually that ugly. Maybe she didn't have to be embarrassed by her body.

She had also joined an anonymous internet forum of… like minded herbivores who found themselves drawn to carnivores in various ways. It was titled "Pred-Bait" after a derogatory comment made by some famous "herbivore-purist" in an interview many years ago about what they thought about carnivore-herbivore couples. The members had decided to rally around the title, turning it into a fun joke to share. While many of the members of the forum were somewhat… weird. A few of the other users were pretty similar to Nimah.

She hadn't gone into details, but she had explained to these other members that she suddenly had become enamored by a dingo she had met. And that she now spent her free time searching for him. The other members had shared their feelings as well. One other female member of the forum had talked about how when she was little there had been a flood where she lived. She had been trapped in her bedroom when one of her neighbors, a tiger, had smashed the window and carried her to safety. Many of the members Nimah talked to felt the same thing that she had. That feeling of safety and warmth when wrapped in the strong embrace of a carnivore. Nimah felt encouraged that she wasn't the only one. And as such, she became more confident in her daily life. She didn't awkwardly avoid everyone else at the office. She even talked to the other sheep she used to hate so much. She felt like a brand new animal.

One Friday afternoon as she was getting ready to leave the office for the day, her boss set a file in front of her.

"Hey, Nimah. Before you go, can you give this to the new guy in the sales department? His name is Lorenzo."

Nimah nodded.

"I'll make sure I do. Have a good weekend, sir."

"You too, Nimah. Keep up the good work."

Nimah picked up the file and walked to the elevator. The sales department was two floors down. She weaved her way through the building until she found one of the sales staff, a caiman, packing their briefcase before they left for the day. She looked up at the reptile.

"Excuse me, do you know where the new hire, Lorenzo, is?"

The caiman pointed to the left and Nimah bade him farewell. She came into a space with multiple desks situated inside and saw three salesmen chatting as they got ready to leave. Nimah froze and almost dropped the file she was holding. There he was. Her dingo. She recognized the sallow face, the deep eyes, that soft curl of fur on his neck. She had found him.

He noticed her and his face went pale. The other salesmen left, leaving the two of them alone. He swallowed nervously but didn't speak. Nimah finally asked,

"Lorenzo?"

He nodded. Nimah held the file out for him. He accepted it with a nod and made to brush past her. She spun and grabbed his wrist, holding onto him. He looked back at her, confusion and fear on his face. Nimah smiled contentedly at him.

"Can we go get dinner together?"

Lorenzo hesitated. Finally he returned her smile and turned to face her fully.

"Yeah, I'd like that."