Redemption

Bolt searched the black sky, but there were no stars. At least, he couldn't see any. The city lit up the sky, concealing the constellations he wanted to see. Even though it was late, the city was still alive. Nothing crazy like back at home, but there were a few families and couples taking a night stroll through the calm city. He wished his own home city was relaxing like this. Bolt grew to like this city more and more with every visit. It had sort of become his favorite vacation spot, but it was mostly to visit Mittens…

Depressed thoughts entered his head when he thought about his friend, but he tried to brush them off. He had to focus. He scanned the area below as he waited on the roof of a small restaurant building. He knew he would be coming soon. A few nights had passed since he left the hospital and he had been keeping note of the Doberman's routine and plans. Tonight, he was meeting with his guards in a nearby alley. Bolt hoped he would find an opportunity tonight.

His injured leg still felt stiff, but his strength had returned. The plan was simple. Wait for the right moment and kill that bastard. He didn't want to put too much thought into it, otherwise he felt like he would change his mind. And he didn't want to.

He suddenly spotted the Doberman at the far end of the building next to him. He casually looked around before entering the alley. Bolt jumped to the lower roof of the building and strained his remaining ear to listen. Nothing important he needed to know about. He glanced over the side of the roof and noticed the alley had two openings, one that led to the main street of the city and a back entrance which led to another long alley behind the buildings.

They finally stopped talking and the guard dogs headed for the entrance to the city. The lone leader took the back alley. Bolt felt his blood pump faster. The time would come soon and he needed to be calm and ready. He watched and let him walk for a bit in case the guards decided to stick around. He spotted a junction of three paths where the leader was headed. He went ahead and found his way to the ground and planned his attack while hiding around the corner.

It was quiet. The alley was dark, but not enough to completely conceal him, especially with his white fur. He would need to rely on the element of surprise. He heard faint paw steps getting closer, along with his heart beating as it pounded through his ear. He held his breath and remembered seeing his friend in the hospital.

Bolt tackled hard into his flank with his shoulder. He felt minor pain reciprocate to his shoulder, but he ignored it. He bit into the canine's hind leg and threw him against the wall, much like how he was thrown himself the last time, except the tables were turned this time. All the anger that built up was being released as Bolt attacked him. The Doberman wheezed as he tried to catch his breath, but Bolt gripped into his neck and pinned him down.

"So, you're alive after all. I'm honestly surprised. I thought we may have actually killed you." He taunted. Bolt glared into his eyes and growled. He slowly bit harder until he felt his teeth penetrate the Doberman's neck. Blood leaked into this mouth and the taste of it almost made him sick. The Doberman gagged, until Bolt loosened his grip to allow himself to breathe. He kept his teeth on the dog's bloody neck.

"Go ahead, kill me. It won't bring your friend back." He snickered. Bolt growled again.

"Shut up!" He snapped. "She's alive."

"So you're just a murderer now?!" Bolt growled bit harder again and more blood spewed out. His own muzzle now drenched in blood.

Do it.

He hesitated.

What are you waiting for? He deserves to die.

He bit harder.

"So you're just a murderer now?"

The question echoed and hit him hard this time. What was he doing? Why was he acting like this? He felt as though time itself froze upon realization to let him think. If he killed him, it wouldn't make him any better. He tried to find cause of these sudden dark thoughts. When did he lose sight of himself and his judgment?

He released him.

"I'm not a murderer. I don't need to kill you." He muttered and padded away.

He felt sudden pain in his hind leg and he was lifted into the air. But as soon as he was off the ground, his body was slammed back down. Air escaped his lungs and before he got a chance to breathe, the Doberman bit into his neck. The leader laughed maniacally.

"You're so weak, Bolt. You know, I was going to let you live, but now you've pissed me off." Bolt began to feel light-headed. Victor was right. "You may not be able to live with yourself if you kill," the Doberman snickered, "but I can."

Mittens...

"Bolt." A voice called for him. It was faint and he wondered how he could hear it. Was he not dead? A part of him hoped he was because he didn't have much left to live for. And he wouldn't have to feel bad for lying to Mittens anymore.

Maybe that's why he went after the Doberman. He tried blaming the Doberman for hurting Mittens even though he knew it was his own fault. He told himself he wanted revenge, when maybe he just wanted a death wish. He wasn't sure, nor did he trust himself anymore with his rash thoughts lately.

"Bolt, wake up." The voice grew louder. Guess he wasn't dead after all. How disappointing. He felt his senses returning to his body. He felt himself breathing and felt someone rub his body. Eventually, he opened his eyes. A blurry face slowly sharpened into a familiar one.

"Victor?" he murmured and looked behind his friend and saw the motionless Doberman lying in a thick pool of blood. His neck was ripped open and his eyes frozen in terror.

"I did it for you." He replied in a dark tone. The Dane grunted and staggered to the ground on his side. Bolt rushed to examine his friend.

"You're hurt." Blood dripped from open wounds ripped open by teeth on his flank. Bolt pressed his paws against the wound to slow the bleeding, but his friend had already lost a lot.

This isn't good, at this rate he'll…

"Bolt…" he lifted his head slightly and whispered, "It's okay." The white shepherd turned to look at his friend in dismay.

"We need to get you to the hospital." Ignoring what his friend said. His friend shook his head and rested it back on the ground.

"My owner doesn't know I'm gone, he's probably sleeping. There's no time." Bolt grinded his teeth and growled.

"Then I'll carry you!" He tried crawling under the large Dane, but Victor bit into his scruff and tossed him aside. Bolt crashed into some garbage cans and struggled to recover himself. He was more tired than he realized.

"I'm an old dog, Bolt. I lived a long and happy life." He smiled softly, but then he coughed violently. Bolt rushed over to him again. He sat with one leg down to let his friend rest his head. He held his friend's head still by resting his paw on his forehead.

"Victor…"

"I told her, Bolt…" The old dog wheezed. "I told her… what you wanted me to. She was heartbroken and she wouldn't believe it."

Victor reached for Bolt's muzzle. "You can't give her up, Bolt." He smiled again and then scoffed. "Don't worry about me." The paw that rested Bolt's muzzle fell and went limp. His breathing stopped. He was gone. Bolt sobbed and rubbed his blood covered paw across his old dog's forehead. He shut his eyes tightly.

You saved me…

He stood up triumphantly and took in a deep breath.

I will repay you and honor your courage.

He crawled under his friend until he could lift him on his back. He was tired, hurt from his injuries, and his legs trembled. He took a few steps and his paws ached with each one, but his spirit felt stronger than ever.