I had inspiration to add more to Dogpound's little story. Rated on the higher side of K plus, for blood, major angst, and one word, but I used it in the literal, scientific sense, (a female dog, so now you know the word. If you're sensitive about stuff like bad words, at least I warned you first) so it shouldn't be too bad. Get ready to enjoy Dogpound's sucky, angsty, no good, very bad night.
(p.s, sorry that's it's sort of sandwiched by Fishface's story. I'm sure you can handle it).
As Dogpound walked slowly into the throne room, tail still between his legs, any thoughts that had enjoyed that splurge of freedom shriveled as he saw his Master sitting on his throne at the back of the room. Even though most of his face was covered, Dogpound could sense his disapproval. Gulping, and pushing fear aside, he kneeled next to the throne, awaiting the Shredder's response at his failure. There was a long silence, before he spoke up, "Master, I'm sorry, I"
"Don't apologize to me! I do not want apologies, I want results!"
Kneeling lower, he looked at the ground, "Yes, Master, I understand. I promise, this will never"
"Silence!" The Shredder boomed. He stood up from his throne, cape following behind as he unsheathed the sharp claws from his gauntlet. He walked down the stairs, metal spikes on his shoulders clanging with every step. "I told you that I would not tolerate anymore failure. I especially will not tolerate such a shameful failure! Now, the price for failure!" Before Dogpound could blink, the Shredder had brought his claws across his face, and he let out a loud howl in surprise and pain, as red scratches were gouged from below his eye to the bridge of his nose. "I have warned you over and over again, cutting off only useless spikes that grew back, but no more!" He scratched across the other side of his face, and Dogpound let out another long, high-pitched howl. Blood was starting to drip onto his sensitive nose, until the sick coppery scent of it was all that he could smell. "Master, please" he practically whimpered "Next time, I swear to you"
"I told you, I do not want your promises! I want for my former best student to stop being a shame for his master, staining his reputation! I want success!" He brought his gauntlet lower, dragging the blades through his shoulder on his smaller arm. The marks were deep, leaving a trio of dark red scratches across his shoulder. Dogpound let out one more howl of pain, bringing his hand up to his shoulder, and ending up covering most of his upper body.
"Next time you fail, the price will be that useless ornament that you call your tail. But don't worry, when I was growing up, only the best-looking dogs had docked tails. And ears. Yes, I could dock your ears as well. Of course, that practice also led to constant irritation and infection; constant pain. Do you understand? Be sure to not fail me 'next time'." Dogpound slowly lifted his head to his Master, blood still dripping on his face, filling his nose with the scent of blood.
"Yes, Master. I understand." He pushed himself up to a standing position, suppressing a yelp as pain shot up his shoulder. He turned to walk out the door to his room, and heard the Shredder call to him from behind.
"Be sure to send in Xever on your way out. I need to have a 'talk' with him about failure as well." He shuddered at the thought, but shrugged it off as he remembered that it would be to Xever, not to himself again.
"Yes, Master." He shoved open the door, suppressing another cry of pain, and walked out into the hall, where the pink fish known as Xever was waiting. "Master Shredder wishes to 'talk' with you next. And I wouldn't keep him waiting." Xever looked like he was going to give some sort of sarcastic comment, but looking at Dogpound's bleeding face, he simply gulped, and walked into the throne room, door sliding shut behind him.
Still clutching his arm in pain, Dogpound walked to his room silently, pain shocking up his shoulder with each step. He went into his room, and sat down heavily on the floor. He could barely keep himself from letting out a whimper, both of pain and of shame at once again failing his Master. He wiped his arm across his cut face, grimacing when he saw the way the blood stuck in his fur, sticking strands together in a dark red mess. He searched the cabinets where he kept the few medical supplies that he had, rummaging around in them until he pulled out a roll of bandage. He let out a growl of frustration as the antibiotic was nowhere to be seen. "Great, that's just what I need. Infected marks of shame all over my face." And then there was a thought in the back of his mind, growing subtly stronger, as the wound on his arm continued dripping blood. Lick it, you have to lick it. It said. You can't just let it bleed like that, lick it clean. He quickly shook the thought away, he wasn't going to lose a fight and come back literally licking his wounds like some sort of animal. Things were bad enough as they were, now was not a good time to start losing it. He let out a lower growl mixed in with a sigh. "I need a hot shower."
He left his room, slamming the door shut behind him as he went to the shower shared by those that stayed at the Foot clan's lair. He mentally sighed in relief as he got to the door, but noticed a small white sign hanging on the door reading: NO DOGS ALLOWED And underneath that: THIS MEANS YOU, BRADFORD. He growled lowly, defiantly not appreciating the demeaning reminder of his current state. Seeing a Foot grunt walking by, mask off since he wasn't on duty, Dogpound pinned him against the wall with his giant hand. "What's the deal with the sign? Who put it up, and why?"
"M-m-mistress Karai told us to put it up." He stammered, shocked by the mutant with the bloody face that was pining him.
Karai. Oh, how he hated Shredder's little brat. "And why would she do that?" The Foot soldier in his hand stayed quiet. "Well?" he asked threateningly, tightening his grip on the boy.
"She said that yourfurgotallstuckinthedrains, and that she didn'tlikethewetdogsmellafterwards" he got out as quickly as he could, hoping that Dogpound wouldn't be able to understand. Dogpound caught every word, and growled at Shredder's daughter, practically throwing the Foot soldier in his grasp onto the floor. Wet dog smell?! Of all the demeaning, insulting, infuriating, ugh, words couldn't even begin to describe it! He ripped the sign from to the door, crushing it before he threw it to the ground, and forced the door open. As he stormed inside of the bathroom, he was startled by a forceful spray of something cold and wet that went across his face. Wiping it off of his eyes, he was not too surprised to see Karai standing there, in her "casual" clothes, standing there with a spray bottle in her hand.
"Bad Bradford! Couldn't you read the sign? Or are you so far gone that you've forgotten how?" He ripped the bottle from her hands, throwing it out of the room behind him. He couldn't take much more of this abuse, one of these days he was just going to snap and kill that Karai, Shredder's daughter or no. "Oh, come on Bradford. It was just a joke. But seriously, I don't want you taking a shower in here again."
"And why should I listen to you, princess?" He got out, barely keeping himself from lunging at her, picturing fangs at her throat. Imagine what the Shredder would do to him for that. No, he was stronger than these urges that plagued him, stronger than the stupid reflex to chase, or to attack whatever annoyed him. He was a well trained ninja, and was in complete control of himself.
"Oh, I don't know, because I'm in charge of you, because my father is the Shredder, who is also in charge of you. It looks like he did quite a number on you already, I guess he got tired of your constant failure. So, I would suggest listening to orders from now on."
"Fine. But"
"If you really care enough, I guess you could just go stand outside when it's raining, instead of coming in here for a shower. Just don't come back in here, the last thing we need is you stinking up the place."
He screamed, and punched the wall hard, rage making him forget his injured arm at the moment. "You'd better learn to watch your mouth one of these days, Karai. Otherwise you'll say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and I'm not going to help you when that happens." He turned to leave the room, getting away from his embarrassment, and his most hated member of the Foot.
"I'll be sure to keep that in mind!" Karai called back to him sarcastically.
He slunk back to his room, taking a look in the broken mirror as he entered. He looked like a mess, with red patches of stain all over his face and shoulder. Ears held flat in a pathetic way, and, oh yeah, the fact that he was a giant literal son of a bitch, that had tan fur everywhere.
No antibiotics, no shower, pushed around by a bratty 16 year old girl that was less than half his height, just because her dad was the Shredder. He'd hate to have to cross the Shredder again. Not that he loved it, in fact, he loathed it, cursed it every second, but like it or not, his stupid tail was attached to him, and he was sure losing it would hurt. And his ears…
He crawled into his bed, and having no other option, with his shoulder still letting out a small trickle of blood, he submitted to the instincts for the second time that night. He licked his wounds, filling his senses with blood; the smell of blood in his nose, the feel of blood in his fur, and now the taste of blood on his tongue. With his shoulder stopped bleeding, and overwhelmed with exhaustion and just wanting this day to be over, he lied down and hoped for a dreamless sleep to overcome him, even if his dreams were the only place that he could experience true freedom.
Now I have no idea if I'm doing anything more with this story or not. I thought I was done with it, but no, I wanted to torture Dogpound a bit more. R&R