Chapter 26 - Reunions and Regrets
Office Building 20623, Melbourne, Australia
Oscar was having second thoughts again about creating the chemical. Even though he got over them, they seemed to return. He should have discarded them. When Shaård took him to the building where they kept a good portion of the Eden Apples, he tried to have Splaarghön's advice repeating in his head like a record.
When they arrived at the small two-storey office building, he recalled what she told him. He should focus on trying to do what he did best. That would rid of any doubts. He wouldn't need to feel guilty! Being the one all feared was enough to put him on top. And thus, the clown smile returned when he remembered these prideful things that gave him purpose.
Oscar expected the place to be shaped to the Mecha Underlords' liking but was surprised at the downgraded interior taking a humble, low-budget appearance. A meth lab, he would call it. The building wasn't exactly big enough to make a spectacular school, so the hallways were pretty narrow. The black paint coating the windows looked a little bumpy. The ceiling lights consisted of lightbulbs with no sign of any neon lights.
It felt more like a cubby house than a secret lair.
This would be the kind of place Lou would like, thought Oscar in mild approval. He wondered if the Bad Guys would stay here, but he remembered how much they cared about presentation. Wolf was probably the most fashionable, only second to Shark.
Shaård appeared refreshed, his chest puffed out in pride. He was staring down an invisible audience in front of him, but he was merely enjoying the simplicity of the building. Despite liking the neon lights, he felt a little close to home in a humble building.
However, the Great White Shark kind of missed his snappy side. "We're going to stand there and gaze at the floor all day?"
Shaård blinked a couple of times. "Oh, right. I just…got a bit excited since this is where we'll have some of our smaller projects. Aside from making sure the Eden Apples are stable to use."
"That you know of."
"Now, I'm expecting you'll be on good behavior, right?"
OK, it was official. Shaård still carried the stern and careful side. But only to be a bit. Oscar was a little tired to tease him after the fiasco this morning. The Great White Shark decided to roll his eyes in the manner of a bratty child.
"OK, Dad," he said with a smirk. "Show me the way."
"You know that you're older than me," snarked Shaård.
As Oscar let Shaård drag him along, the Great White Shark inspected the building. Good thing some preview windows showed certain rooms for a sneak peek. Immediately, he realized it was a science lab.
An unsafe science laboratory building.
Small spaces and a lack of professional protocols would be its downfall. The mansion's underground lab appeared safer than this.
He peered into one room where one cyborg set up a big red target. Another cyborg was lifting what looked like a small gun. However, Oscar noticed its cyan glow from the barrel…and the multiple magazines of bullets connected to the gun.
"Oh, this is our disintegration ray machines!" said Shaård. "Quality-assured and environment-friendly!"
Cue the shooter pressing the trigger and accidentally zapping the head of the cyborg holding the target. The victim let out a loud, ladylike scream as his head was caught in awesome light and burning electricity. Oh, and his body and target were on fire as well.
Oscar raised an eyebrow. He wouldn't care, but this place reeked of unethical chaos. He stared at the wall the laser was hitting, but it didn't yet seem to melt to pieces. Only the unfortunate target was disintegrating from the laser.
Shaård grinned tightly. "Well, it's a little dicey, but…at least we got soundproof walls!"
"That would ruin the fun," muttered Oscar.
"Best to drown the noise before it could leak to outside."
The next room provided something shocking. It appeared simple enough, but in this room, there was a gigantic cylinder container of water sitting on what appeared to be a stove-like machine. Two scientists were writing notes while one cyborg sat in the container in a meditation pose. She didn't seem to mind the risk of drowning. She looked too calm.
"Oh, that's one of our little tests for rookies," informed Shaård. "We decided to move it here since the submarines can cause too much movement. We could have tested you on this, but you already know the ocean."
"And I'm guessing that the non-sea-creatures have to test if they can stand underwater, " Oscar said.
To prove his point, one of the scientists pressed a button and the heat element of the stove-like machine turned purple. The water began to bubble…and the cyborg's eyes widened. She let out a scream with a horrified look, but her voice was muffled by the bubbles flowing out of her mouth.
"There was a report that 50% of the cyborgs could not stay in the 'abyssopelagic zone' condition," said Shaård, unfazed by the sight in front of them.
"I know deeper levels where humans could die easily," bragged Oscar.
The third room didn't have a window. Instead, it had a fully reinforced metal door with several locks. Without thinking, Oscar flipped one lock…and before Shaård could react, all the locks came off the door to reveal the room's interior.
It appeared to be a prison room fitted with padded cells. But the most attractive sight was the abomination in front of him: an ugly mass of green tentacles with a swollen mouth, sharp yellow fangs and bulging, bloodshot eyeballs. And many of its tentacles had what appeared to be butt cheeks attached to them.
The Great White Shark felt his breakfast coming through his throat.
The abomination roared and so did Shaård. Well, more of a scared roar when he slammed the door and kicked back in the locks. Once done, he turned to Oscar with a furious look.
"What the hell, Oscar?!" he yelled. "You know the dumbest thing to do is let an alien stuff you into its esky!"
Oscar grinned at the reaction. "I thought it would have like a puppy in there?"
"Why do you think we would have a puppy as our prisoner?"
"Because you like dogs."
Shaård gave him a lame look in disbelief. "Please don't do that again. We can't let this alien run free and find its brothers."
Oscar leaned in, interested. "Oooh, I thought there were no such thing as aliens. This is an alien?"
Shaård raised an eyebrow, nearly leaning away. Oscar was really coming in close. Too close. He didn't want to be smothered by a giant teddy bear.
"Yes…" Shaård muttered. "And I know. They have butts for hands."
"I think I saw its mouth drooling," said Oscar, rubbing his hands together. "Wait, was there a lot of bloodshed when you found them?"
"What?"
"How many dead bodies were reported?" squeaked Oscar, grinning excitedly.
Shaård shivered. "No! No dead bodies! Judas Priest, mate. Why is it always a murder thing?! We just contained them for our experiments!"
"You're going to unleash them?"
"Thankfully, no. Another leader of the council already has them under their ownership and intelligence. Neither Splaarghön nor I can use them without permission."
"Well, that's surely not going to cause an alien invasion," deadpanned Oscar.
As they progressed to the upper level, Oscar was growing impressed with what these kids were doing. And the risks they chose to go further into. While this building was a downgrade to the tidier submarine, they did make the most out of this place without causing too much damage. This faculty might be more than just needing to hide half of the Eden Apples they collected.
He remembered back to Shaård's age. But when Spencer and his family were nearly recruited, Oscar figured out that the Mecha Underlords were growing in numbers. People of all ages come together to contribute to the empire's cause. The Great White Shark wasn't a team player, but he got to hand it to these age groups for handling the chaos. Whether youth or the old guys.
The top floor was a stark contrast to everything else. It dominated the entire floor. A regular science laboratory room with enough space for new carts and shelves. The tables were all set neatly, spread out and plenty of space. These stations were occupied, sparkling in electricity technology and bubbling from chemical reactions.
The scientists here looked more professional, their eyes narrowed as they sorted out all the different wires. Shark realized that they lacked the colored eyes or black shells coating their faces. They might not be cyborgs at all, just working for the Mecha Underlords.
Oscar took a deep sniff of the place. He wouldn't be able to know since he didn't have a dog's nose, but the saltiness of the metal was noticeable. The air was somewhat oily, giving the feel of a car repair shop. Considering the weapons stored around, it gave him an impression of a combination of a medicine lab and a blacksmith workshop.
One human scientist dressed in a white lab coat and a purple sweater strolled past them, pushing a cart filled with sword weapons.
To Oscar, it looked like another set of good toys to play with. To Shaård, he was charmed by the shine and sharpness of such powerful tools.
"Whoa!" he chirped, snatching. "Yeah! Now that's a knife!"
Oscar thought of mentioning that it wasn't a knife. A sword with a glowing line that decorated the middle of the blade. A futuristic sword to stand tall as a knight and to stay advanced as a car. Its glow suddenly made the blade look lighter. Eventually, he decided not to interfere, letting the enthusiastic Shaård sink in the spectacle of the sword.
He looked WAY too happy, his wide smile revealing all his sharp teeth.
"Underlord Shaård," informed the scientist, weirded out. "It's not exactly ready."
"Whoops!" said Shaård, putting down the sword immediately. "Sorry, sorry. I just got excited…"
And then, his mind was switched off by another weapon. This one had spikes sticking out from the sword.
Oscar rolled his eyes at the mundanity, but Shaård was excited. So excited that he didn't hesitate to whip it upwards and swing the sword in the clear air. His grin was bloodthirsty, manic.
"NOWHERE TO RUN, FELLAS!" he yelled hammily, pointing the sword forward.
Oscar barked in joy and his first reaction was to shake Shaård's shoulders. "Oh, my little boy! See? I told you that we are connecting!"
Shaård's eyes widened once he noticed the unamused looks from the scientists. The smile disappeared within seconds. Like the flick of a switch, he immediately tossed the sword back into the cart and kept his body collected and hunched up.
Despite the flustered look, Oscar pulled out his long red sword, twirling it slowly.
Too bad that Shaård's face was too equally red to like it. "Stop. I'm…not really like you."
"Well, c'mon," said Oscar matter-of-factly. "I've seen your savage side. Why hide the swords? Why remain human?"
Shaård whistled at this questionable statement. He was already giving too much away. Guess he wasn't exactly above Splaarghön's emotional detachment. And from the unamused looks around him, it did make him feel less human. It was…shameful.
He could only grin sheepishly, puffing up his chest to appear sharp and confident. "I just like sharp things. That's all. They can pierce through ANYTHING! No matter how tough, they can sink into the flesh. And…well, chainsaws! They're…" He paused, rubbing his warm cheeks. "My favorites! You can tell from my belt!"
"I thought your helmet was meant to resemble a hawk," said Oscar, poking the sharp tips of Shaård's helmet.
"It's still a cool shape, however." Shaård cleared his throat, thinking that his voice cracked. His left leg unconsciously wrapped around the other, shy to explain. "I'm still a baby spoon. So, I have standards. That makes me human." It didn't last long as his left leg uncurled itself. "Unless they deserve it!"
Oscar nodded with an impressed look. While he could compare Shaård to the Bad Guys, this fellow seemed to have the guts to kill like Splaarghön. That would be one way of embracing being a monster in a good way. Despite being a worrywart, Shaård still had that edge and his obsessions weren't exactly a bad thing. To Oscar, that is. There could be any other embarrassing obsessions, but not with knives.
He remembered clearly when Shaård unleashed his power in moving and breaking glass shards. His small laughter echoed in his mind, one that was of glee. It was only short since he wasn't in the mood to kill. How could a disciplined student like Shaård become a vicious knight? Could he sleep like a man at night?
The Great White Shark bent down on one knee with a keen eye level. "Hey, brother, what really got you into fighting? I mean, it's pretty obvious. But you can be soft. I mean, not many guys act like mothers."
Any ounce of joy was removed from Shaård's bright eyes, replaced by a fearful look. He frowned, feeling undermined. His mind went blank, not knowing how to answer such a question like this. He slowly drooped his shoulders and looked away, not wanting to see THEM asking him the question. It didn't remove the voices echoing in his empty mind.
"There's nowhere to run, Dickie."
"How are you going to get yourself out of it, freak?"
An impatient Oscar touched his shoulder, but Shaård drew back, rubbing it as if the touch was sore. When he saw his face, Oscar forgot what he wanted to say. He expected Shaård to be peeved, but he didn't know that he was capable of appearing…hurt.
It said a lot about his sudden reaction to him touching his shoulder.
"D-Don't call me soft," Shaård muttered, his voice hoarse. "Please."
Oscar wasn't sure what to say next, but his fat mouth had a mind of its own. "Did I strike a nerve?"
Shaård narrowed his eyes in irritation, moving his hand in the middle as if saying more or less. Eventually, he relented and sighed. It wasn't really memories he was fond of seeing, but the happy ones shaped him. A confusing ride for him. It was already making him fizzy. At least the Great White Shark didn't care to spread rumors.
Focusing on reality, he could see that Oscar looked curious. Not trying to mock him.
"Maybe," Shaård grumbled. After some thought, his tone switched to a somber one. "To answer your question, before I met Splaarghön, I didn't have the fangs and the prongs of the other boys. No one likes a sissy. And then, she…came. She was the first to not walk away."
Oscar blinked, nearly lost. "You're talking about Splaarghön?"
Surprisingly, Shaård was patient. "No. It's…Sharon."
Oscar leaned in forward, wondering where this was going. "I'm sensing a relationship."
"No, she's my…ex." Shaård nearly hesitated to say more, too meek to make things sound positive. "We broke up long ago. It's not something I want to dive right into, but she was why I'm a leader of this empire." He let out another unhappy sigh, now restless from the pressure on his chest. "I know the warnings that she is 'wild' or 'crazy' and…I know that too. But…Sharon is the reason why I'm more willing to take risks. To be fearless. She's an adrenaline junkie, living the dream."
Oscar might not know the feeling of heartbreak over an ex, but as a father and once a husband, he knew the feeling of how much a loved one could shape a person for the better. Judy tried doing this to him, but…he wasn't sure if it would be the appropriate path for him. His eyebrows slowly relaxed, his eyes reflecting the sorrow and grief within. There was no way since they were all criminals in the end.
"So that explains you being an adrenaline junkie as well," he said quietly, trying to sympathize.
Shaård smiled, a nostalgic happiness he had kept for a long time. "Yes! And you should have seen her! She looks more beautiful when out in the wild. The hair flowing, the bright sunshine from her eyes, the sheer determination. No challenge she would back down to the point she would use her TEETH to drag the competition to the table. Busy as a bee!"
When Oscar tilted his head, this randomly evoked a purple blush from Shaård.
"I-I mean, I didn't have to, but I asked her to teach me to follow some of the things she do. Thus, my obsession with swords came after watching too many slasher movies. Funny thing, I practised with my chainsaw as a sword back then."
Oscar chuckled. "Not going to lie, that's cool."
"No, it's not really cool," said Shaård, dead serious. "I got grounded for a month when I was caught."
"But it shows you have potential!"
Shaård paused, his cheerfulness turning into only blue. "Yeah, it all came from my ex-girlfriend." His head slowly lowered down, wishing for the happiness to return. He was too familiar with the feeling of being discarded, but…it could happen again. "Maybe it's best we aren't together, but…I still miss her. And me still being me reminds me of what she likes about me. Just being the same neat-and-tidy, nerdish baby spoon who knows how to get through life."
His smile nearly darkened, a hint of bitterness. However, all that remained was a wistful smile, longing to see Sharon again. Someday. And to Oscar, his longing stare showed that he might not have the words for something that turned personal. Splaarghön nearly did, but Shaård was surprisingly alright with telling him. The Great White Shark was the last person to talk to.
But then, Oscar did say that he and Shaård connected through fondness over action, so that might have won Shaård's 'trust'.
And recognizing this got Oscar feeling pity. It reminded him of this feeling whenever Lou expressed his worries towards him. For half of his boasts, Oscar didn't always have a clear way of answering. He frowned, wondering how much he must have ignored many times.
"Lou, I didn't know-" he muttered to himself.
Shaård blinked, looking up. "Lou?"
"I-I mean, Shaård, yes, Shaård." Oscar tried to put back on his signature smirk, but it wasn't winning anyone. "Maybe I should have adopted you-"
"I'm sorry, what?" said Shaård, appropriately weirded out.
"What?"
"OK, let's not make things weird. I still have a family."
Oscar chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Better pray I don't eat them alive. Do you need a hug?"
Shaård took one look at his body and he blushed again. "T-Thanks. But let's not. I don't know how rough you are, sorry."
Once Shaård was smiling, Oscar grinned. "If your neck is meaty enough.
Shaård cleared his throat, straightening his composure. "I need to go soon. This will be your lab for the next few days. I'll leave you alone to make this chemical with a team. But be nice to your workers. I looked into your resume and you wrote in previous incidents of your former workers found dead."
At this, the scientists around them stopped what they were doing and turned their wimpy eyes to Oscar.
"I only found them dead due to overdoses," said the Great White Shark bluntly.
"I'm not going to take chances," said Shaård, wagging his finger like a teacher. "Behave please." And to encourage that, he gave a genuine pat on Oscar's shoulder. "And good luck with making this chemical. I hope this will work in giving everyone what they need."
Oscar remained quiet, not quick enough to say 'goodbye' to Shaård when he left. Grunting to himself, Oscar contemplated the irony of the chemical 'saving' the world. When both he and Splaarghön knew what this chemical could do, not to mention those who would be involved in its making.
"No fear, brother!" he called loudly, mimicking his usual carefree attitude. "There will be no potential side effects…"
He turned back to the scientists once Shaård was gone. Most of them appeared worried. In Oscar's mind, they must have heard about the chemical's use in the past. And now, they were stuck with a world-class assassin to bring it back.
Oscar sighed, resigned. "Yeah, right…"
Noontime, The Chutney Household
"Is this the right place?" asked Kitty.
"Yep," said Diane, checking the car's GPS.
"I'm really sure it is," said Wolf flatly.
Kitty glanced at the forest surrounding them. "You're sure? Did you copy and paste the address in?"
"Yes, I recognize those woods from before."
"So you just copy and paste 'forest' and throw that in there too?"
Wolf turned around, giving Kitty a look that screamed 'seriously'.
Kitty directed her eyes somewhere else, ruffling her afro. "Help me out. So your old home is on the other side of the woods?"
"You don't go out too often, do you?" asked Wolf.
Diane snickered under her breath. "She spent too much time in her garden meditating than walking in the woods."
"Not accurate," snarked Kitty. "What I'm more concerned about is where we're ACTUALLY going. I'm cool with bringing the takeaway to a picnic, but if it's a haunted house, that's another problem."
Wolf rolled his eyes, turning to face the road. He couldn't keep his eyes on the curious cat. Both Diane and Kitty thought of walking, but Wolf decided to use the truck since, from his memory, it was a long way to his old house. He was sure that the address placed into the GPS led them to the right destination. He was familiar with the woods.
Kitty was simply overexaggerating about the forest around them. If anything, it was just far away from Melbourne. The trees weren't that tall like in a massive natural hike. It seemed to be more or less a secluded urban area. It felt quiet. It felt peaceful without the busyness of the city.
The houses around the area were a little too far away from each other. They didn't look similar. They carried an old aesthetic, but they stood out uniquely. No signs of nearby construction. Yet, no signs of possible advantages of electricity lines, trams or cafes to stop by. It was only a simple street.
Wolf was mentally shivering, but driving through these woods made him feel…calm. These trees were his fortress. His shield from a city he barely fit in. There was barely a lack of green. The sunlight caught on the green leaves, bringing much more color to the scenery. The only difference was that he usually traveled these woods alone, but even in solitude, no one could put him in chains.
Without waiting for the GPS to confirm, Wolf knew they were close and slowed down the truck. He didn't need to recheck to confirm. Right now, he just needed to see the house itself.
Looking through the window on Diane's side, his eyes fell on the two-storey turquoise house.
Wolf remembered when his family first moved to Melbourne. He didn't exactly remember when his parents moved since he was a baby at that time, but he knew the details. Both his parents weren't exactly successful due to…previous mishaps. But they fought hard enough to have a secure job, buying this house for a quiet, safe shelter.
His father loved staying close to the woods since it reminded him of his old home when he was a child. Animals like them were more likely to feel attached to nature itself, maybe even more than humans could. Reinforcing this was the house's lack of modern upgrades. The grown-up Wolf could see the difference, but back then, it was much slower and simpler without needing the presents.
The hulking house was still standing, but the rest wasn't or at least what remained of it. The letterbox was leaning so far over that it almost touched the road. The picket fence was beyond repair, chipped and needed new paint. The grass was ugly, strands of green too tall or too short. Neglect over what used to be a beautiful home.
Strangely, there was still light inside the house. Electrical white light. Stanley might have been cut off from electricity if unable to pay the bills. To see the house's power standing in advance was a surprise.
Wolf took a deep breath, opening the door to exit. The familiar cottage pie smell and the cold forest freeze soothed his anxiety. He looked up. Still cloudy, but the sky was gradually turning blue. He sighed, smiling sadly.
At the same time, memories resurfaced and flashed around the house. Instead of feeling scared of these visions, he deeply longed to return to those old days.
He could see his younger self playing fetch with his father, using their mouths to catch the gold frisbee. He could see his younger self through the top window, tucked into bed, while his mother read him a fairy tale about a girl loving a beast. He could see his younger self sitting outside the front door, his head resting on his hands while his parents watched with worry.
The same nightmarish white scribbles decorated all of those visions. These glitching white lines were reminders they were only memories. He only felt dissonantly happy. It felt like taking a page from a comic book he dearly loved. Of himself and his family.
He could see the scribbled stars, the hearts, the stars in the sky to resemble the night sky and the cartoonish exploding outlines over the wolves' heads.
And then, he saw himself as a teenager in the window that would show the kitchen. The day when he got into an argument with his father.
"We cannot stay here for longer! What if someone comes back?!"
Wolf closed his eyes, wincing at the bad memory. He could feel Diane rubbing his shoulder. At least there was someone in reality who could pull him back. It helped him feel secure for once, though it was weak against the aftertaste. Opening his eyes to stare at the house again, he wondered if it would be worth seeing his father again.
"That's why you have this change of heart coming back here; you don't give a crap about Stanley Chutney and everybody knows it!"
"If you ever want to visit me, you can come over to visit, son."
No. He wasn't going to run. Wolf narrowed his eyes, tightening his fists. He came all the way here to see his father. To see if he was doing OK. He finished his work earlier and he should make the time now. His father did allow him to save Snake and chose not to interfere with his mission, so it felt right to see his father again.
"You're all good, Wolf?" asked Diane.
Wolf didn't need a minute to respond. "Yeah. I'm all good."
Some of his worries were slightly pushed aside when he saw Kitty struggling to pull herself out of the truck. Primarily due to the takeaway she ordered. Given that the special lunch offer was meant for six mouths, she was practically carrying a guitar case.
Wolf snickered in amusement at the panther struggling to carry the large box of what smelled like fried pigeons.
"Let me help you on this one," offered Wolf generously.
"No, no, no," insisted Kitty. "I'm all good!"
[Wasted on You - Morgan Wallen]
[0:00]
Soon enough, Kitty could balance on both feet with a large box in her sweaty hands. The trio gingerly walked towards the house. Wolf's ears flicked around, hearing movements inside the house. Not only did it sound like his father's boots were stomping around, but music was playing. Possibly on radio, but there were no signs of static in it…
By the time they reached the porch, Wolf was about to knock on the door when it opened. His heart skipped a beat when he saw his father again.
Looking the same as yesterday.
The gray wolf hadn't changed out of his clothes, but his jacket was off to reveal a dark chocolate brown singlet and a golden necklace around his neck. It provided a tasteful sight since the tight singlet wasn't enough to conceal his angular and broad upper body. Tall and big. In addition to the sturdy V shape, his exposed arms were quite thick and muscular.
Wolf initially thought his father gained weight, but the older wolf barely had a fat tummy. Surprisingly, he had a tattoo on his left hand of a younger Wolf…and a tattoo on his right arm of an eye. He must have got them recently.
At first, Stanley didn't pay attention to who was watching him, yawning drowsily while running a hand through the fur on his head. The squeaky yawn he emitted prompted Kitty to blush, her long tail curling in interest.
Diane noticed this. "Hunky that much?"
Kitty shook her head out of her daydream. "Well…my husband is still a handsome tiger, so…"
[0:16]
Stanley blinked in blurry disorientation. But once he noticed that his son was also here, his cyan eyes glowed in surprise.
"Oliver?" he said.
Wolf immediately felt shy, his previous confidence nearly diminished. He could only offer a weak grin. Eventually, he decided not to let his hesitance get to him, saying the first thing that came to mind.
"Think…we can talk for a while?" Wolf cringed to himself at the word choice. No, that wasn't like him at all. "We have some free time now and just thought of catching in with my old man?"
That should work, right?
However, Stanley didn't mind. He just didn't expect to see his son again. "That was early of you."
The older wolf stepped forward and Wolf took it as a sign to come forward. He felt Stanley's arms wrapping around him, but not as tightly as the last hug. Wolf smiled sadly, resting his snout on his father's shoulder and wrapping one arm around his father's back. For some reason, the light from the house was growing warmer.
When the two let go, Stanley turned to face the smiles of Diane and Kitty.
"Foxington again?" he said.
Diane held her hands upwards in reassurance. "This is playtime out of business. I'm not going to question you."
"I'm Kitty Kat," said Kitty, bowing a little. "Nice to meet you, Mr…"
"Just call me 'Stanley'," said the older wolf politely. "Not need to be formal today. And I knew that smell was from outside. Bunch of chicken wings you bought."
Kitty became aware of the oily sensation on her hands. "Oh…yeah. Let's just take this inside before it gets cold."
[0:31]
Wolf was greeted with the same humble feeling when at home as he entered the house. As said before, it didn't have that many modern upgrades, but he enjoyed it. Seeing the old, authentic interior of the house nearly made him tear up.
There was an old, classy style to the place from the walls, the carpet, the small chandeliers and the kitchen area. The song playing from somewhere was crisp with a mixture of trap beats, not needing much to get him dancing. Sounds like the kind of mood Stanley would like.
To his surprise, the place was now littered with empty coffee mugs, boxes and piles of newspapers. The newspaper piles were scribbled in pen, crossing out words and random notes written in the free spaces. The piles were surprisingly neat, arranged in corners and certain parts of tables and couches to give free walking space.
Wolf found himself thinking back to what his father had been doing. But before the guilt could kick in, he noted that it couldn't be strictly called a mess. It could take the look of a burnt-out student trying to get past their last studies. At least the house looked tidy inside compared to outside.
But it was on the wall near the dining table that made his heart sink.
Even Diane and Kitty noticed it as the latter lowered the lunch box at the dining table.
Up close, they could see a makeshift, paper tower pinned and glued to the wall. Newspaper clippings, cutouts of offers and programs, even stickers! Several red strings crossed from to another like a murder investigation. Diane squinted her eyes at one of the newspaper cutouts and she gasped.
It read 'FREE OFFER FOR HOW TO TALK TO PEOPLE'. A phone number below, but it was scribbled out messily.
Wolf didn't need to come close to read each of the cutouts. His father…had been looking for jobs. Or possibly grabbing every opportunity he could win. It made him feel bad for leaving Stanley alone for this long since his father had resorted to THIS. And Thelma pointed out that his father wasn't doing well during his absence.
This little reminder told Wolf to say the question out loud. No matter how much it would hurt him.
[1:00]
"Sorry about the mess," Stanley said, sheepishly rubbing his head. "I don't have guests nowadays."
Wolf's voice turned to a crisp whisper, gaining a dryer throat. "No wonder. Is it true…you lost your job?"
The question froze Stanley. "...what are you talking about?"
Wolf's voice was quiet yet firm. "Thelma told me."
Stanley's eyes widened and a growl built up in his throat.
"The Miss Dreary girl?" he said, stupefied. "How did she-?"
Wolf hung his head before facing his father. "Look, I don't care how she knows. I want to know if it's true you had to hand over your badge."
Stanley inhaled sharply, withdrawing the growl building up. He didn't want to dive into this. It didn't help that they were literally on opposite sides regarding law. It didn't feel right at the moment since they were just starting to talk with each other again.
"That's not important, Oliver," said the older wolf, his twitching ears folding backwards.
"It is!" exclaimed Wolf, spread his arms wide in emphasis. "Why wouldn't I forget that you didn't arrest us?" Once his voice was lowered, he crossed his arms with a desperate plea. "Tell me, Dad. Tell me the truth, please!"
[1:21]
The way he was acting reminded Stanley a lot of whenever Oliver got serious. Today, he definitely was and he wasn't little anymore. With his arms crossed, his posture standing tall and the impatient look filled with worry and remorse. The adult Oliver now wanted to know what was going on. This showed the strict and firm side of Mr. Wolf.
Stanley wanted to tell him he shouldn't worry, but his son wouldn't buy it. He would ask for more. And a part of Stanley felt as if not telling the truth was the real reason why everything crumbled apart.
He glanced at Diane and Kitty. The fox held the same look of concern much like her friend, while the speechless panther watched on.
The older wolf huffed through his nose, a little irritated. Rubbing his tired eyes, he marched towards the heavily decorated wall.
"Yes," he said softly with a sharp edge of a growl. "I'm not longer a cop."
"I'm so sorry, Stanley," said Diane sympathetically.
Stanley shrugged nonchalantly. "It's all good. Not like they wanted an unstable mutt like me. Right? Not like it was the right workplace for me to keep my head high after Oliver's university applications were stunted."
Wolf raised an eyebrow. "What does that have to do about…?"
"I didn't lose my job, Oliver," clarified Stanley, his voice strained. "I quit being a cop. Weeks before you disappeared."
[Repeat 1:37 - 1:51]
Thelma claimed Stanley lost his job when Wolf left him to die on his own.
Now, it meant Stanley already crumbled into pieces before Wolf went out of his way to make a name for himself.
It still remained, but his guilt was beginning to die down a little.
Stanley noticed his son's eyes dilating, taking this cue to continue. "Like I said, this is not important. I quit by choice. It…wasn't really the job for me. Several of my co-workers offered me brochures for a psychiatrist, but not like they have a problem, huh."
His cyan eyes were pointed at the newspaper cutouts behind him, memories of him freaking out over failing again and again. To have a suitable application meant for him. To find a promise of relief.
"And even when you left, I searched for enough money to prove that our family has the right to live here, whether we are wolves or not."
Diane couldn't really believe this. She couldn't point fingers at anyone, but it was spectacular that Stanley got the house to still stand, let alone in good shape. However, it scared her. If he lost a secure job and nearly resulted in creating a bigger mess, then Stanley must have been also doing something behind the scenes.
"What about the whole…living on the streets and taking drugs?" she asked anxiously.
Stanley narrowed his eyes, reflexively tearing off a cutoff from the wall. Only Kitty flinched at the sharp rip. Wolf and Diane didn't, glancing at each other.
"T-Those are just…lies," snarled Stanley, unable to keep down his emotions. "They're all the same; the unemployed receive more mental issues. It makes you a psycho and a disabled person. You don't believe every druggie on the news is disabled, do you?!"
His voice echoed throughout the room. His growl left a mark of his frustration. With the paper in his hand crumpled, Stanley tossed it aside.
"I'm not disabled. No one has the right to call me that."
"I didn't say you were disabled," said Diane.
"It probably went through your head at one point," grunted Stanley bitterly.
Immediately, Wolf voiced his inner worries, stepping forward. For all the support and undeserving kindness Stanley gifted him yesterday. The younger wolf knew that he looked special already, but he refused to leave his father in the dumps.
"I'm so sorry, Dad," whispered Wolf tearfully. "This is my fault. I shouldn't have left. I should have stuck around to help you find a job-"
He jolted when Stanley placed his hands on his shoulders.
"It's alright, son," said Stanley, calmly and gently. "It's not all your fault. It was my choice. It was my choice for not helping you in the first place. If I did that, we wouldn't feel the need to stay away from one another."
Wolf's eyes were wet, but he held the tears in. He wasn't going to let the voices have the satisfaction. Stanley's timid smile promised faith, but the rest said otherwise. His father looked so old and frail. While still healthy, Wolf could see the exhaustion painted over his father's face. Stanley's ears remained folded back, a sign that he wasn't doing alright.
It didn't feel right to let Stanley soak in the blame. But he didn't get the chance to say that when he pulled Wolf in a side hug.
"But hey, look on the bright side," the older wolf claimed with a dry grin. "I actually got a job that benefits me. Seriously, I'm not kidding. I'm a current research assistant in an unfinished, secret project. Helps me pay the bills at least."
[1:52]
Both Wolf and Diane were very confused. Their attention was directed to the source of the music. It was coming from a mobile phone sitting near the stove. The first piece of modern technology in this house.
"No wonder this house is still up and running," uttered Diane.
"So don't feel too bad for me," reassured Stanley. "I figured out my own way. You did too, Oliver."
Wolf groaned, still not finding it fair. "You're more than happy for an anvil to overbalance the see-saw. Or let it crush your entire back?"
"There's no see-saw," said Stanley coolly, letting Wolf go. "It's just a little plastic pony to sit on. It's all swell, so no need to dwell."
The younger wolf whined a little, feeling sore that Stanley quickly brushed the whole thing off. He wanted to say something, but his father smiling told him that it was the end of the case. Besides, Wolf didn't want to lash out at him. He could only let out a sigh and an eye roll.
"OK, Dad," he said, trying his best not to sound like a child. "But promise me to tell me anything bothering you. I'm all ears. Really."
"So am I," remarked Stanley.
Wolf nodded with a huff. Well, at least his father got some kind of job. It better treated him right. He'll come back to this another time.
"Say, the food is getting cold," commented Stanley. "I can smell the coldness."
[2:15; Repeat 2:43 - 2:50]
Diane was unnerved as Wolf, but for now, she couldn't force Stanley for more answers. Wolf seemed to let it go immediately. Maybe it would be best to move on for now. She tried smiling a little, cracking a joke.
"I think your smell is inconsistent," she said.
"Well, it's a good thing this is piping up," muttered Kitty, opening up the lunch box. "Cause I feel that this might be what you need now."
The lunch provided was different sets of fried chicken for each of them with a few extras. It was alright, Wolf guessed. He was grateful that salad was picked up since he loved going on a good diet. He didn't feel too hungry. Snake would dig this more.
That characteristic could be shared with Stanley as he made his first huge bite of his burger. And proceeded to casually pour the fries into his mouth. At least he ate his food slowly.
Meanwhile, the passionate Kitty was rapidly devouring her food in seconds. Wolf nearly stood up to get some water for the panther until she already took a water bottle.
In contrast, Diane resorted to nibbling on her fries. Not even dipping them in the sauce. Wolf couldn't help smirking. From their dates, he knew Diane often take the time to chew on her food. Apparently, to calm her down during a panic.
Kitty struck up a conversation about who she heard would perform at the Million Musical Hearts Awards. Soon enough, Stanley joined in, more complimenting the rising artists hfor their passions. Wolf smiled at that part, feeling the same way. He knew Webs might share a few interests with Stanley.
Diane was about to join in when she felt something cold crawling on her tail. She froze, a chill down her spine. She curled her tail upwards and immense relief came over her when it turned out to be a gummy snake.
The jelly snake lifted its head up, flickering its tongue politely.
Diane immediately remembered. "Is that the jelly snake bot that Snake gave you?"
Stanley barked happily. "Oh! You mean Snake Junior!"
Wolf nearly choked on the soup he was drinking. As Diane gently placed the jelly snake bot on the table, he imagined it wearing a bucket hat and Hawaiian shirt. The perfect look for a mini Mr. Snake.
He had to hold his laughter in when he asked, "So you didn't eat it?"
"…it hit the ground before I considered," stated Stanley. "It brings some good company. Makes me wonder if this is what Snake is like."
Wolf giggled as his father gently petted the jelly snake bot. It seemed pleased by the affection, nuzzling his head against the furry finger. Admittingly, it reminded Wolf many times when he and Snake nuzzled each other, especially when they started dating. It was a sight that brought him tears and laughter.
"I can reassure you he doesn't act sweet," joked Wolf. "He's more of a sour candy."
"Hard on the outside, huh?" remarked Stanley.
"You're telling me," agreed Kitty. "He may be one-half of a generation above me, but I know guys like him who baked themselves. One time, when I visited the Bad Guys, I tried encouraging Snake to let my kids give him a hug. He looked terrified. I still got the picture of him cuddling with my kittens."
Wolf chuckled. "Oh yeah. Considering that he's cool with you, Dad, it's safe for you to see."
"Nah," said Stanley, grinning in temptation. "I'll take the slow way. I need to know Snake more in person. The best way to sugar things up is to know the groom better. You know what I mean?"
Wolf's cheeks turned pink, his tail wagging. He looked downwards to see Stanley's tail wagging as well. He looked at Diane. Her tail wasn't moving, but her mouth was. Her hands covered it to hide her laughter.
"I told you to keep it down, Dad!" whined Wolf, his voice reaching a high pitch. "It's embarrassing!"
"Well, that's how a parent acts to make the boyfriend feel comfortable," said Stanley with a witty smile.
Diane eventually giggled uncontrollably, slamming her fist against the table. "Oh ho ho ho! No, I think it wouldn't make Snake feel comfortable at all. Trust me, I've been there."
[End of Song]
Office Building 20623
Oscar thought he would feel uneasy recreating the chemical. He thought he would shut down. He thought he wouldn't function properly after years of inactive progress in a laboratory workplace. And despite the advice of many, he feared that he would see things again.
But it turned out, the next few hours didn't drag out as he feared. He didn't slack during these hours, focused on the unlimited resources needed. He understood the guidelines and safety ethics provided by the other scientists. Before he knew it, he was testing different chemicals and making orders to his assigned teammates, though he didn't listen to their suggestions of him taking a break.
For once, nothing was holding him back.
No visions or hallucinations of his son.
His paranoia was really low.
And before his paranoia returned again, he already made at least 15 vials of the brainwashing chemical, one in his hand that contained his blood.
He stared in admiration of the fizzling bubbles in the pink chemical. It still retained this look of a strawberry fizzy drink, didn't it? He knew it wasn't really holy, but there was nostalgia from seeing it. Pretending that it was like a lava lamp. Such a pity that it looked so pretty with an ugly taste. At least it matched Splaarghön's pink eye.
The scientists gathered around him, muttering softly in anticipation. He ignored the crowd and turned his attention to a guinea pig running around in a nearby cage. The Great White Shark's eyes turned to a blank dummy covered in smooth black paint. Wearing the dress his son wore during the Good Samaritan Awards.
"OK, we're nearly close," said Oscar, twirling the vial casually in his hand. "This is the original brainwashing chemical. And currently, it has my DNA sample from my yellow blood."
Without looking, he popped open the cage's water dispenser lid. It was filled with water that should have no additional chemicals that could taint it.
"The test subject should hear me the most out of all the people in this room," said Oscar. "Everyone has to be silent except me so that I can whisper the possible trigger words in its ear. And then, wait for twenty seconds. Quick hypothesis: this guinea pig is going to have its brain bits blown all over the place, which is not good…but fine by me."
All the scientists behind him groaned, not wanting to have their laboratory messy again.
Oscar ignored them, emptying the vial into the water dispenser. "So, here it goes!"
The scientists held onto their breaths, watching the once transparent water turned into a dark shade of pink. Nobody expected the chemical's texture to turn into paint when it entered the clean water. It could look like pink dust coating the entire dispenser. Once full, Oscar snapped his fingers and the obedient guinea pig placed its lips around the straw of the water dispenser.
The scientists leaned in further, with one even clinging onto Oscar. He barely noticed, focused on the guinea pig. It was really going to full town with slurping every molecule in this brainwashing chemical. Must be really thirsty.
Only when it tried nibbling on the straw was when it slowed down. The chance was subtle. It was growing slower before freezing. Oscar took his cue to come closer to whisper.
"No fear, no game," he said monotonously. He felt like he would fall asleep, bored by the words. "No doubt, no fails. No weakness, no dissatisfaction. Say 'no' to all of your worries. Are you ready to try to be the greatest?"
He didn't have to, but he liked having the trigger words long and specific. It would be hard for others to find the right key to controlling those infected. Since the guinea pig wasn't anthropomorphic, he couldn't really tell if it listened to him. It only stood still, staring at him. But the black eyes seemed to harden, slowly losing their innocent shine.
And to his surprise, it was frozen like a statue. Not even breathing. It didn't need it.
It was a machine at this point.
Once the expected time for the trigger words to sink into the guinea pig's mind past, it lifted its head to Oscar and it didn't appear so defenseless.
The scientists gasped, immediately writing down notes.
Oscar was about to smirk when he heard a voice in his head. His eyes widened as he realized his paranoia was back. He looked around, but no one was saying anything to him. The voice sounded like it was telling him…stop it?
"Shut up," he said to himself angrily. "It's just…some stupid weapon. Not like it's going to work!"
That he tried to reassure himself. He whispered a few commands in the guinea pig's ear. It obeyed, jumped onto the cage wall and used its claw to unlock the lock. The lock dropped and the guinea pig's nail was bent, but it didn't care. It didn't even sweat as it jumped out of the cage, easily landing on the floor.
It was already perfect.
Too perfect.
The last thing Oscar needed was for the guinea pig to go out of control. He had to make sure the chemical was given a suitable quality.
"Crikey!" said one of the scientists. "Forgive me for being unprofessional, but that is a tough piggy."
Mid-thought, Oscar turned to him, wanting to say something back. But then, in his place was the blonde prisoner. A flash of lightning and her silhouette was covered in pink with a toothy grin.
Once the flash was gone, the male scientist was still here.
The Great White Shark was unsettled. With fearful eyes, he observed the entire room to ensure there wasn't an additional person in the sea of white-coated humans. He could wipe them all out, but that would get him in trouble with Splaarghön. His true surroundings were his only reliable source.
It was unnecessary to do a repeat of yesterday.
His heartbeat was growing louder in his ears, but he denied it. He shouldn't be scared. It was just a harmless guinea pig!
"Alright," he said, picking it up. "Now, you see that pretty lady right there?"
He pointed right at the dummy. The scientists chuckled a little.
"Why don't you show her the backdoor?"
Even though that command would be complicated for the rat to tell, the guinea pig immediately picked up what Oscar wanted to do with the dummy. It leapt and sprinted towards the dummy, relentless in its run. Once close, it pounced at its prey and its scratches were too quick to see properly. It zipped around the dummy like a tornado, only allowing eyes to see a good look at the received wounds.
Oscar narrowed his eyes. This chemical was too good.
After a good chunk of three minutes, the dummy's skin was thoroughly shredded to only reveal leftover cotton. The dress was already just specks of materials to be stepped on. The guinea pig remained on the dummy's head, victorious. To everyone's surprise, it was already foaming by the mouth.
It then leaned backwards, somersaulted and landed on the ground on both lower feet. And in mid-air, it spun and kicked the dummy forwards.
Oscar simply grabbed the flying dummy by the head, unamused.
The crashing sensation in his hand sent a ripple through his body.
He noticed the fake hand of the dummy touching his wrist.
The girl responded by twisting his wrist before pouncing onto him, repeatedly punching him in the head.
His vision began glitching. The people around him were distorting. He dropped the dummy, suddenly feeling sick. He felt like he might puke. His heartbeat pounded like a drum, shaking the entire room. He found himself gasping for air, but there was no oxygen. He could only feel the tension. The room was already burning around him.
All hell broke loose as the corrupted prisoners tried to fight back. Oscar didn't know why he was stepping back, watching his researchers trying to keep them in line. His back pressed against the bars, he was met by the image of his test subjects fighting back.
His fellow researchers were slowly overwhelmed by the relentless prisoners, their sturdy bodies no match to the more nimble and acrobatic prisoners. It could have been possible to pin them to the ground if it weren't for the new stamina.
The distorted figures turned their faces to him, decorated in black scribbles. White scribbles were drawn to resemble their eyes and mouths. They looked like the same animalistic scowls of the prisoners he tested on. And that memory was enough to get Oscar slowly backing away, suddenly feeling trapped. These prisoners hurt his teammates, his son and now…him.
As his paranoia became his only friend, it tightened his chest to the point his bones might even break. He clutched his chest, but refrained from the BURNING sensation. Pictures of memories flashed on the walls, begging him to watch. He kept shaking his head, wanting it to stop. He just wanted them to damn stop.
He finally got to the other side as fast as he could and pushed the blonde girl away. He didn't care if he pushed her too gently, but his attention was on his son.
He opened the door and slammed it, letting it ring in his ears from the demented noises inside. He pulled Lou as far away from the cell. His son was silent.
Even with his eyes closed, he could see the same dark, distorted figures now grinning. And they were floating closer. And closer. And closer the grabbing hands to take him to his late grave. The sounds of his previous memories were overtaking his own panicking breathing.
And when he looked down, the dummy was gone. Replaced by a dead Lou with a bloody nose.
And then, the dummy returned.
The distortions were suddenly gone. The screaming stopped.
Everything…went back to normal.
Oscar blinked.
He blinked again.
He looked up as he dared to.
In front of him was the same crowd of scientists. Only a few of them were scared, hiding behind their fellow workers. But most were only disturbed, ranging from concerned to suspicious.
Oscar looked down. The dummy's head was beneath his foot, crushed into a messy white pile. He looked back up to find one scientist carrying the guinea pig.
And it didn't try to do anything else.
No twitches.
Oscar sniffed, patting his cheek. It was then he felt something wet. He looked down at his hand and noticed it was stained yellow. It was coming from his cyborg red eye.
He was…crying?
He never cried before. Not ever since Lou left the house.
Did he overreact to seeing the guinea pig attacking the dummy?
"Mr. Quibble," asked one scientist, patting him on the back. "Is anything alright-?"
Reflexively, Oscar whipped around and slapped her over the head. All that was left was rage. "Zip it, you dolt!"
"Hey, take it easy," hissed the female scientist, rubbing he sore cheek.
"Dude," said another, shocked.
"Seriously," criticized a third. "Is this how you work in a lab?"
Oscar growled, wiping his tears away. "Look, sorry that I was useless, OK? L-Let's continue."
"I told you that you need a break," deadpanned another scientist.
"For the last time, I DON'T need a break," snarled Oscar, glaring at the motionless guinea pig. "The only thing I need to break is that piece of-"
"OK, OK, fine," said the female scientist, holding her hands up. "But you don't seem to be doing fine."
"Oh, you're right. Now I'm not doing fine."
In a fit of rage, he kicked the dummy forward and all the scientists scattered to let it slide across the room. No words were exchanged as they stared at the loose cotton underneath their feet.
Oscar placed a hand over his head, already exhausted. It wasn't burning, goodness gracious. He was once again vulnerable. He did a fine job of not remembering them. And then, he was wasted after a puny guinea pig. Finally giving up, he closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose.
"We'll continue tomorrow," he said, crossing his arms. "I expect a full cleanup NOW."
"Oscar," started one scientist.
"NOW!" barked Oscar, saliva flying from his sharp teeth. "You got me?!"
To his surprise, many scientists weren't shaken by his growl. They looked rather disappointed. He closed his eyes and walked away. He didn't need any pity. He was the Great White Shark, after all. Fear was the reaction he needed.
"Jeez, just trying to be helpful," stressed one scientist.
"C'mon, Oscar," said another, trying to not sound aggressive. "Don't be such an arse."
"No, you're right," retorted Oscar, already out the door. "I'm one."
AN: While I would have Oscar appear in a later chapter and not immediately, it feels fitting to have him included again in a title called 'Reunions and Regrets'. Besides, the travel to Building 20623 is arguably less than even minutes, given the cyborgs' teleportation powers.
And do you see what I see? It's the aliens with the butt hands! Yes, they are real in this AU. While there were plans for the official movie franchise to reveal Marmalade as an alien, I thought it would be pretty funny to have one appear in this AU. It's more treated as a joke, however. It's a good thing we won't see them again in this story, right?
Oscar's hallucination overblown took some inspiration from Arcane, and the resulting aftermath took inspiration from the beginning of Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse. This shows the escalation of Oscar's mentality and the scientists not being scared highlights the opportunity he refused to take. While this empire is less biased, Oscar's pride and confusion might cost him what could be saving grace.
What do you think of this rollercoaster chapter? Which would you say to be your favorite scene? Let me know in your reviews. If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
Until next time, keep on rocking!