A Protector
1.
I felt like I was adrift in a sea, gently floating along its blue surface. My face was dripping with salty, bitter water, but I didn't care enough to wipe it away. My spirit, for the first time in so long, felt like it was at peace. Nothing mattered to me; I only wanted to enjoy the sun as it planted soft kisses along my bare torso. I let the wind embrace me in its chilly arms, perfectly balancing out the warm sun's rays.
Get up, a voice called out to me, skipping across the calm waters. Get up, Michael.
"Michael, if you don't get up right now, I will castrate you. Now wake up." Slowly, as the room echoed with the pops and cracks of my joints, I sat up, only to find two large, almost glowing orbs staring me in the face, a fiery rage glistening in the cores. "Good morning," he said, frighteningly calm, topped off with a smile on his muzzle. "How did you sleep?"
"J-joshua? What're you-" He pressed a finger to my lips, his eyes twitching ever-so-slightly.
"No. You don't ask questions now. I do. You just sit there and answer me."
"Why?" He looked down at my chest, as if to say, 'No shit, knuckle-head'. I followed his gaze, and found a white bandage with red streaks reaching across my right pectoral and the left side of my ribs. Obviously, he had found me in the street, and had fixed me up before... "Thanks," I whispered, suddenly finding myself to be weak and a tad dizzy. He simply nodded, and folded his arms.
"Now answer the question, wolf. What the fuck happened?" I winced. I had known Joshua for seven years, ever since high school, and he had never- I mean never- cursed. So either he had decided cursing was morally sound, or no other word in his vocabulary, as extensive as it was, could define his feelings at the moment.
So obviously, he was pissed.
"I...I mean..." I took a deep breath, cast all stray thoughts from my head, and said as clearly as I could, "Locke and I had decided to hang out at the movies, as I'm sure you already know." He nodded. "Well, we went in, saw the movie, and left, only to find Razputin waiting for me in the parking lot. He grabbed Locke, threw him in the car, and drove off, and when I tried to stop him, he shot me."
Never before in my life had I seen Joshua at a loss for words. But he narrowed his eyebrows and scratched his chin thoughtfully, then turned to watch the fish in the tank on the other side of the room swim about for a few moments.
"He kidnapped Locke?"
"Yeah. Just grabbed him and ran. Said if I did anything to save Locke, he'd kill him." Joshua mumbled something under his breath, and let his eyes flicker across the glass again.
"Call the police. I know you hate them, but do you really have a choice? To do anything else would be...well...stupid."
"Joshua!" I cried, overcome with shock. "The cops? No way in hell! After what they did to my brother, I wouldn't dream of having anything to do with them." He turned to face me, a growl on his lips.
"If you don't, Locke will die. You hear me? Die. As in cease to exist. So pick up the phone, call the police, and tell them what happened, or I swear to God, I will rip your dick off and glue it to your forehead!"
I picked up the phone, dialed 911, and waited.
"911, what's your emergency?" a voice said after a few minutes.
"Yes, my name is Michael Imahara, and I need to report a kidnapping."
"Imahara, you say?"
"Yes. Michael. Please, just listen to me. I-"
Click.
I took it away from my ear gently, turned to Joshua gently, and proceeded to throw the phone across the room roughly.
"Gah!" he screamed as he just barely dodged the phone which flew right past his head. "Michael! What the-"
"They hung up on me!" I screamed in return. "Those fuckers! I ought to-"
"Why would they hang up on you? It doesn't make any sense."
"My father." Joshua's eyes went wide, and a soft gasp of realization left his throat.
"Oh...I remember...That would explain it...Look, I know they were less than wait, where are you going?" he called after me as I stood to my feet with a groan and walked out the door.
"To get help. The cops wouldn't help me if I was the last fur on Earth! So I obviously need to do this myself."
"Are you daft, man? You're not a super hero! You're not an officer! You go out there, you will get slaughtered!"
"I don't care. Don't wait up for me," I replied, slipped on a jacket, and walked through the front door.
2.
Knocking on the heavy oak door of the downtown apartment was probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I knew from the very day how Myles felt about me...what he saw me as, and I could sum it up in one word: roadkill. He despised me, and everything that I was. Everything I stood for. And he especially despised that I spent so much as a moment with Locke.
As I tapped my foot inpatiently, I heard a loud, annoyed growl through the door, followed by thunderous footsteps approaching the door.
"Who is it?" a voice growled.
"Uh...it's Michael Imahara. I need your help."
"Go away," he roared. "I don't want anything to do with you, pest."
"But Myles, I-" the door swung open, revealing the six foot seven tall wendigo, whose fists were clenched to tight, they were shaking. His dark yellow cat-like eyes were narrowed annoyance, which were just amplified by the silver dreadlocks that hung in his face. His thick, hulking muscles rose and fell with each aggrivated breath, which almost sounded like a growl. He was dressed simply in a tight pair of black shorts, but he might as well have just answered the door with his cock hanging out; the feeble piece of clothing did next-to-nothing to hide his junk.
"What the fuck do you want, Imahara? Why do you keep bothering me? Do you have a death wish? Because I'd be glad to help in that case."
"No...I-"
"Then leave. Now." As the door began to close, I jammed my paw in between the door and the wall. Though a sharp surge of pain shot up my arm, the door held in place. He glanced between my paw and my face, and I could have swore that I saw a hint of confusion on his face. "Are you serious? You really think that I won't crush your paw in the door? I wouldn't hesitate, I can assure you. In fact, I might actually enjoy it."
"If you would, my paw would be obliterated already, no?" He began to say something, but he couldn't fight the logic as it sank in.
"Fine." He opened the door again, and leaned against the door, arms folded. "What do you want, Imahara?"
"It's Locke. He's been kidnapped." To this day, I know that most people wouldn't believe me if I told them, but before the last syllable left my lips, his expression changed from annoyance to pure, unbridled panic and fear.
"No...not Locke...I..." He brushed the dreads out of his eyes, and looked down at me with full attention. "What happened?"
"Razputin. He's kidnapped Locke because he wants something from me. He says that if I don't give in, he'll kill him."
"You mean to tell me that you basically got Locke kidnapped by a lunatic boxer who has something against you?"
"I'm not sure it's as elementary as that, but for the sake of simplicity, yes. And I can't hope do anything alone," I said as I pulled my shirt up, revealing the bandaged bullet hole in my chest. "He nearly killed me, man...That's why I need you. For Locke's sake, please...help me. You're the only one who can."
"I...you..." He took a deep breath, stood to his full incredible height, and looked down at me with forced annoyance. "You can handle this yourself, Imahara. You got him into this, you can get him out."
I don't know what came over me. Maybe it was desperation. Maybe it was a pent-up hatred that had been building up ever since I had met him. Or maybe I was just pissed off at the situation. But whatever it was, as he turned to walk away from me, I jumped onto his back and dug my claws into his shoulders.
"Gah!" he snarled, jerking about spastically, trying to throw me off. I managed to evade his long ivory claws, however, and deliver a few good, strong punches to the side of his head. He suddenly jumped back into the wall, driving me into the hard oak panels, but he only managed to drive the breath out of my lungs for a second. With a growl, I dug my claws into the soft flesh behind his chin, and whispered in his ear, "All it would take to snap your neck right now is a good yank back...Trust me, it would break like a fucking twig. So listen to me. If we don't act, and act soon, Razputin could very well kill Locke...And I can't live with that on my chest...Please help me. If not for me, then for Locke." I could feel his muscular shoulders heaving with every breath, straining to keep our combined weight up in the drain of combat. Or perhaps it was simply frustration, overcome with logic that he knew he couldn't fight.
"Alright," he sighed. "What do you want me to do?"