Our Finest Hour

Chapter 12: I'm Bleeding Out Part 1

Warning, Heavy graphic content ahead! It's not too late to turn back!

If you're still here, I have some news. I decided to split this flashback scene into two parts. It just felt right. Didn't want to cram too much into one chapter.

This right here folks, is why the fic is rated M.

Still not too late to turn back.

I warned you.

OOO

I opened my eyes a crack. Sleep lingered in my muscles, making them slow and unwieldy. Yawning, I sat upright in my bed and smacked my lips. Light poured in through the open window. My ears flicked as bird song drifted into my room alongside the sounds of early morning traffic. Swinging my feet off the bed, I stood up and stretched my stiff limbs. Eyes roving across my room, I saw that nothing was out of the ordinary.

Deep blue walls were still deep blue. My dark hardwood floor was still wooden and rich in hue. The old rug beneath my feet was still as soft as ever. Spacious would be one word to describe my room. Being a fox living in a house designed for large mammals, I didn't exactly take up a lot of space. Like an atom, most of my room was just empty space anyhow, with all of my furniture sized to fox standards and all. For Christ's sake, I had to jump just to reach the fucking window! The house was too big, built like a goddamned cathedral… but it was home.

Walking over to the closet, I slid the white doors open and searched for something to wear. I ended up picking a collared, navy blue button-up and a pair of pale blue jeans. Draping the clothes over my arm, I sauntered over to my door and was out the room in a flash. Traipsing down the sunny hallway, I heard my adoptive parents conversing in the kitchen. Not wanting to intrude, I made my way to the restroom and locked the door behind me. Switching on the lights, I dropped my clothes on the toilet seat.

Climbing the set of stairs my parents had built into the wall, I put my paws down on the granite counter and peered into the mirror. Sky blue eyes stared back. Chipper green light shone brightly from my tame collar. I sent a scowl at the sinister contraption as if it were alive and could appreciate the gesture. Giving a sigh, I scanned the fox in the mirror. His black fur looked dull and brittle. There were some patches falling out beneath his pyjamas. Foxes were often thin and slender, but this guy took that to a whole other level.

Slipping out of my pyjamas, I eyed myself in the mirror. Where my fur was falling out became painfully obvious. As were the ribs sticking out sharply from my lackluster pelt. The fox in the mirror appeared sickly and frail. Sharp hunger pains gnawed away at my belly. I wasn't starving myself on purpose, I just… the thought of eating made me sick. I didn't have the will to stomach anything more than a few crackers at a time. Besides, there were plenty of hungry Prey children out there. There was no point in wasting food on a dirty chomper.

Hopping down from the top of the stairs, I landed on the cold bathroom tile with a thump. Walking over to the toilet, I slid into my shirt and buttoned it up. Stepping into my jeans, I pulled them up in a clumsy motion. Jumping up onto the toilet seat, I opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed my anti-depressants. Taking the glass I kept in there as well, I dropped back down to the floor and rushed up the stairs. Filling the glass with cold water from the sink, I unscrewed the cap and popped two pills. Gulping down the medicine with water, I shuddered at the bitter, chalky taste left on my tongue. I hated taking these damn numbing pills, I hated visiting that stupid fucking therapist every week; but I endured because it made my parents happy. Leaving the glass on the counter, I took my time walking down the stairs. Switching off the lights, I unlocked the bathroom door and headed out into the hall.

"Hey mom. Hey dad." I greeted as I entered the kitchen. My adoptive father, Adonis Bogo, was sitting at the kitchen table with a newspaper and a mug of coffee. Hera Bogo stood before the kitchen sink, washing a few plates left over from last night.

"Martin." My dad nodded, looking up from his paper. His eyes were tired. He did come home late last night. Was a new case giving him trouble?

"There's my boy!" Mom sang happily. "Sit down, I'll make you something delicious." I smiled warmly.

"No thanks mom. If I don't go now, I'll miss the bus." I lied. Before she or my dad could say anything, I went to go grab my backpack at the front door and was gone in the blink of an eye.

Walking briskly in the sweet morning air, I made it to the bus stop with half an hour to spare. There were no other kids waiting this early. I was alone. Standing in the warm sun, I closed my eyes and leaned against the pole marking our stop. I was panting lightly, the ten minute walk havoc on my weak body. Grabbing onto the pole, I tried in vain to still the spinning in my head. Hunger ate away at my stomach, but I'd grown to ignore the pain. It hardly bothered me anymore.

"Hello? Earth to Martin!" Oliver's familiar voice yelled in my ear. I woke with a start, nearly falling flat on my face. Oliver gave a chuckle and steadied me. Opening my eyes, I came face to face with the friendly green-eyed otter. He was wearing a striped red and blue shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans. I gave a small smile.

"Thanks, man."

"Don't mention it." He returned my smile. "Let's get going. The bus is here." Looking up, I noticed the unmistakable yellow of a school bus. We were some of the last to board. Giving Oliver a nod, I followed him up the steps and moved down the aisle to the back of the bus. Taking a seat next to my friend, I just sat there, eyes drooping, while Oliver chatted the ear off the grizzly bear sitting behind us. I lost myself in the pleasant hum of conversation and fell asleep.

"I know you're all anxious for lunch, class… but before you go, I'd like to hand out the results of last weeks' test." Explained Mr. Rivera, a middle-aged goat as he retrieved a stack of papers from his desk. My class let out a collective groan. Mr. Rivera chuckled. "Now don't be like that. Most of you did surprisingly well, but I'll be handing out the only perfect score first." My tail wagged as he made a beeline straight for me. I took deep, slow breaths, attempting to lower my heartrate to avoid a nasty shock.

Mr. Rivera placed the test on my desk, face down.

"Good job Martin." He said kindly with a wink. I stopped paying attention to him as I turned over my paper. A slow smile spread across my face as I saw what was written on the top left corner. An encircled one hundred. Mom and dad will be so proud. The bell rang mere moments later, shaking me out of my stupor. Stuffing the test into my backpack, I leaped up from my chair and ran for the door.

My paws squeaked on the linoleum flooring of the hall. Heading away from the beating heart of the school, the cafeteria, I took a sharp right and entered the men's restroom. The smell of urine hit my nose with all the subtlety of a hammer. Dull flickering light filtered down from the long, fluorescent bulbs. Carefully meandering around questionable puddles, I passed the sinks and wandered into an empty stall. Locking the door behind me, I unbuttoned my pants so I could relieve myself. Letting a long stream of piss flow into the toilet, I sighed as the pressure on my bladder disappeared.

The restroom door swung forward on squeaky hinges. Hooves clopped on the old, tile flooring. Jiggling my junk, I stuffed it back into my pants and buttoned them up. Pulling on the latch that locked my stall, I tried to open the door but yelped in surprise when it was torn from my paws.

"Hey slick, steal anything nice?" Fred the Zebra blocked the stall with his arms crossed, grinning maliciously. I shot him a scowl.

"What do you want this time Fred?" Fred's grin deepened as he feigned a mock hurt.

"What, can't I just wanna hang with my favorite pelt?" Fred's stupid buffalo friend peeked his head around the stall.

"I thought we were-" Fred cut him off with a jab to the gut.

"I know what we're doing, fucking moron…" He muttered angrily. Fred rolled his eyes before turning his ruthless gaze to me. His ugly mug split in a wicked smile. "I got a surprise for you today, Pred." Fred picked the pocket on his hoodie, revealing a small remote in his hooves. I shrunk back as if the thing were radioactive. He had a tame collar remote, how the fuck did he get a tame collar remote? Panic accelerated my heartrate, eliciting a warning beep from my collar as its light turned yellow.

Fred waved the remote mockingly in front of my face. I eyed it warily, my tail shooting between my legs in fear. I was extra aware of the thick plastic pressing into the flesh around my neck.

"Give me what I want, and maybe I won't give you a jolt." I nodded in understanding.

"W-whatever you want, Fred." I stammered, eager to be done with this whole confrontation. Fred leered at me through half-lidded eyes.

"How'd you do it? I saw you get a perfect score in Mr. Rivera's class. A dumb-fuck fox like you had to have cheated. Show me how." My heart sunk to the deepest pits of my gut.

"I didn't cheat." I said in a quiet voice. Fred tilted his head.

"Not the answer I wanted." There was a faint click as his hoof squeezed the remote. It hit me hard and fast. My collar turned red and let out a high pitched beep. Hot pain burned into my neck as lightning surged from the infernal device. I could only whimper pitifully as my body locked and I went tumbling to the floor. My muscles twitched uncontrollably as I suffered quietly on the wet tiles. Disgusting wet gurgling sounds came from my throat when I tried to talk. "See Johnny!" Fred whooped to his buffalo friend. "It's always funny!"

The shocks suddenly stopped as Fred lifted his hoof from the button. Lungs burning, I gasped for breath and scrambled to my paws and knees. The smell of singed fur tickled my nostrils. The lightning had stopped, but my neck still burned.

"I-I'm not lying!" I screamed. "I didn't cheat! Please believe me…"

"No one believes a word out of your mouth fox!" Fred snarled. No, please!

Click

This time I managed a blood curdling scream when my collar shocked me. Spasms rocked my entire body. The electricity coursing through my veins caused my heart to skip a few beats. Sharp agony, like thousands of tiny needles pierced every inch of my flesh. The scent of cooking meat wafted up into the air. I tasted metal.

The torture ended abruptly. Exhaustion filled every muscle fiber I had. Fred knelt down before my still twitching body and grabbed my head. Forcing me to stare into his cold eyes, I felt a shiver race down my spine when he grinned.

"You know, my dad's a cop. I was feeling a little curious one day, so I decided to look up my favorite chomper." No… My eyes widened in fear. "Congratulations on the clean record Martin, or should I say, Soka?" That name, coming from Fred's mouth, struck me like a back-handed fist across the muzzle. "Ooh, that hit a nerve, didn't it? I'd say it's a shame, what happened to your old family, but then, I'd be lying." Fred's grip tightened painfully when I whined. The motherfucker was enjoying this.

"Stop." I begged. His grin turned gleeful. Malice shone behind his muddy eyes. "They fucking deserved it. Too bad you abandoned them. The world could always use less foxes." Tears fell from my eyes, falling to the dirty floor below.

"I didn't…" I left them to die. Overwhelming guilt strangled my heart and I struggled to breathe.

"God, you're such a coward Soka. You weren't there when your widdle brother needed you." Fred mocked in a teasing tone.

"You're sick…" I panted. Grief crushed me beneath a mountain of regret. I'd do anything to bring him back. He was too young to die… It should have been me. Tears streamed down my face as I choked out sob after sob.

"I don't know if you knew, but I heard that your mommy got herself raped before he killed her. What a whore…" Fred snickered and something inside of me broke; the last straw on the proverbial camel's back. I could hear it snap in the recesses of my mind. Savage growling replaced pitiful sobs. My vision became clouded by a red haze. Hate and fury boiled in my blood. One word rang throughout my psyche.

Kill

Letting loose a bone chilling screech I launched myself forward, claws extended. Fred stared on dumbfounded as I raked my paws across his face, drawing thick lines of scarlet. Fred screamed. Opening my jaws, I eyed his jugular and took aim. I was going to kill this motherfucker if it was the last thing that I did. Alas, I never got the chance. Mid-flight, I felt powerful hooves clasp around my neck. Johnny, Fred's buffalo friend, had grabbed me by the scruff. My body went limp in his grip. I tried in vain to claw at his arm, but my paws wouldn't respond.

Growling like a beast, I eyed Fred's back as he made a hasty retreat. When he was gone, I deflated as my rage burned out, leaving me a tired shell. The red in my vision slowly ebbed until the world was all dull greys. My growls subsided into pitiful whimpers. When Johnny deemed that I was no longer a threat, he dropped me like a doll and raced out into the hall. I made no attempt to catch myself. I hit the tiled floor with a dull thud. Curling in on myself in a puddle of piss, I ignored the burning pain in my neck and wept.

I was catatonic. The rest of the day passed before my oblivious eyes in a flash. No one paid me any mind; I melted into the background like a rogue shadow. I could vaguely recall Oliver trying to rouse me on the bus, but I couldn't be sure. Soon, I found myself standing in front of our house in the meadowlands. The neighborhood was quiet. I could hear birds singing as they soared through the blue skies. The sun was warm, but despite that, I felt cold inside. Reaching up to paw at my neck, I whimpered as my tame collar cut into my burns. It was like a ring of fire had coiled itself around my throat.

Walking up to the front door, I gave a deep breath and let myself inside. Thankfully, no one appeared to be home. Mom must have been out back tending to her garden and dad shouldn't be home, he had work to busy himself with. Sneaking into the kitchen, I bit my lip. This was going to hurt them so bad… but it had to be better than caring for a fox. Quietly, I found the drawer where mom kept the knives.

Taking a small one into my shaking paws, I looked down at the shiny metal and saw my reflection in the blade. Look at you Martin; scruffy; starving, pathetic, worthless… and above all else, just plain tired. I was done. No more collars. No more Prey bullies. Moisture gathered around my eyes as I thought about my family. I could see them again. Oh sweet Nikolai, it should have been me... Don't worry little brother, I'm coming home.

Steadying my paws, I rushed down the hall and to the bathroom in a flurry. Flipping on the lights, I shut the door behind me and locked it for good measure. Breathing hard, my heart beating frantically in my chest, I drew back the shower curtains and stared at the gigantic bathtub. Steadying my shaking paws, I swallowed my fear and crawled inside. I didn't want to make a mess.

"I'm coming." I whispered under my breath. A few tears streaked down the side of my face. Laying myself down in the tub, I gripped the knife tightly. As thoughts of what I had to do filled my head, I started hyperventilating. My collar let out two beeps. On the third, I'd receive a shock. Icy fear shot through my blood. I was so scared. Closing my eyes, I turned to my family for strength. "I love you." Opening my eyes, I could barely see for the warm tears filling my vision.

Holding the knife over my wrist, I gritted my teeth. With a snarl I plunged the knife down into the flesh. I failed to choke back a yelp as sharp pain exploded in my wrist. Drawing back the knife, I examined the wound with a grimace. Thick streams of crimson flowed from the cut, leaking everywhere. I cringed at the overpowering smell. Panting, I switched the knife to my other paw and cut down hard and deep. Another burst of pain, but this time I was able to keep my mouth shut. It was done. I was going to die. Unable to hold back my sobs, I dropped my bleeding arms to my sides and just cried like a kit as hot blood pooled around me.

"I'm sorry." I choked out. "I'm so sorry…"

"Martin?" My father asked from the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. When the fuck did he get home? "I heard you yelp, are you okay in there?" With every beat of my heart, blood spurted out the jagged wounds on my wrists. Like a disease, weakness started growing in my limbs. Dizziness spun the world on its axis and a deep, pervasive cold spread throughout my body. "Martin?" Dad asked again, this time with a hint of desperation in his voice. "Did you leave the knife drawer open in the kitchen?" My darkening gaze zeroed in on the knife resting on my chest. Beating like crazy at first, my heartrate dropped to a sluggish crawl. It was getting hard to think.

"I-I'm f-fine…" I stuttered, confused as to why my voice sounded so weak.

"MARTIN!?" Dad yelled. At this point, my body felt like a lump of ice and my vision was constricted by a vast tunnel of darkness. Exhaustion wormed its way into every crevasse of my body. I felt so tired. It was time to sleep. My eyes slowly drooped closed as a wrenching crack echoed around my ears. The sound was oddly faint. "MARTIN? OH GOD NO!" My dad's stricken voice reverberated around my head like a distant echo. I thought I could feel his arms caressing me, but I was so numb it could have been a dream. Gently, I slipped away.