A/N After becoming a fan of the movie, Osmosis Jones, I made an OC: a pet hyena for Thrax, named Almira. I decided to introduce her by telling her life story. Her picture can be found in my DeviantART gallery; I go as DarkraixCresselia there.
I own only Almira and any other characters you won't recognize. The ones you DO recognize from OJ are owned by Warner Brothers.
RavageThyCorpse: I always answer back to my reviews :D Unfortunately, this one doesn't have our favorite red virus :( But the next one will, I promise :D
One day, a germ came with his fighting dog cell to challenge me. I was stuck in the cage, which had a tarp draped over it, concealing my identity. For all the germs and viruses knew, I was a regular dog cell. As my opponent was led into the ring, Mr. Preemer crouched by my cage in the back, staring at me. "Alright, Girl, I want'cha t'go in there, an' win this one." He began rattling my cage with his cane.
I hated it when he did that! Growling savagely, I bit at the cane and bars. This excited Mr. Preemer. "Get mad! C'mon, get angry!" He left as Hangnail stood on a crate overlooking the pen.
"Gentlemen, on three." He announced. Puncher climbed on top of my cage and took hold of the door, ready to lift. "Uno...dos...tres!"
On "tres", Spanish for three, the opponent let his dog go; at the same time, Puncher lifted the door of my cage. I jumped out growling, ignoring the surprised gasps of the crowd. I barely had time to defend myself when the dog tackled me onto my back. I kicked at the dog in the stomach with my hind feet and bit at its throat. It grabbed my ear and bit down hard. Growling savagely, I scratched at him with my glowing claws, giving him burns. I pushed him over so I was on top of him, held him down with my right paw and raised my left paw high over my head. Claws still on fire, I slashed across the dog's neck. It laid still.
As cheers sounded, I backed away from the dog and sat down, feeling slightly guilty. We were both fighting for our lives against each other, and one of us was injured so gravely, I don't think he made it.
But Mr. Preemer and his buddies didn't seem guilty. No, they walked around collecting bets and tips in their hats and badmouthing the owner of the dog that had lost. Then, Puncher shoved me into my cage and tossed in a small piece of meat, my reward for winning. I scarfed it down in a hurry. I sat down and looked at myself, sighing. Because they didn't feed me much, I was thinner than other hyenas. Earlier in the months, I had a thin waist, but now, I could just barely feel my ribs if I laid my paw on my rib area. I didn't know how long I'd be able to last at this rate.
I couldn't worry about that though. Day after day, week after week I fought dogs of all shapes, sizes and strengths, always winning, no matter what. When I won, I got food; I got double portions if I killed my opponent. I built a name for myself: the Flaming Death.
I didn't like that name. It sounded more like a name for an object than a living hyena-germ. I longed for a real one. Of course, that didn't matter to Mr. Preemer.
One night, after three hard fights, he came to my cage. I poked my head up and growled in warning. "Easy, Flame." He said. "You done good t'night." He held up a piece of meat. "Gotcha somethin' good." He stepped forward to give it to me. When he got too close, I growled in warning. He stopped, straightened up, and tossed the meat to the ground just out of my reach. "That's right." He nodded, smirking. "Just keep hatin' me, Flame." He turned and left.
I reached for the food between the bars, but couldn't quite reach. Finally, I gave up and settled on staring at the meat, stomach growling, while Mr. Preemer's words ran through my mind. Just keep on hatin' me, Flame. I couldn't tell if he was sarcastic, or if he meant it.
Who cares? I hate him, all right! All he does is beat me and yell at me and rattle my cage and doesn't always feed me. I laid my chin on my paws with a sigh. If I could have just one wish, it would be that someone would find me and take me away. Someone kind, who wouldn't beat me or neglect me in any way. My eyelids slowly closed as tears squeezed lit and fell down my furry orange cheeks.
Fighting…that was all I ever knew after I was four months old. Fighting dog cells and winning. Nothing else mattered…nothing. My heart had hardened and was shielded from any sort of emotion: hatred, sadness, love, and happiness. To hell with happiness, I was never happy! I would rather die than stay in this hellhole!
But unknown to me, a life-changing event would soon happen to me.
A/N Very short, and no Thrax. Come to think of it, this is just sort of a filler chapter. The next one WILL have him though :D Hope I can keep him in character.