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It was a calm October evening, the night before Halloween. It was the sixth week back at college, which meant all departments had decided to make it 'reading week' - which is basically another way of saying, "hey, take this week to rest". Of course, few people actually rested, or read as instructed, but a majority of the campus decided now was a good time for getting wasted, what with Halloween this week.

Sam and Ryan were taking this week as a chance to catch up on all the social life this year - partying for Sam, and little get-togethers for Ryan.

Tonight, Sam and Ryan decided they wanted to go see a film, really get themselves in the mood for Halloween. Very few places in town really made a big deal about Halloween, and the local cinema was one of those few places. They almost exclusively showed horror films from the passed 50 years the week of Halloween, and they co-hosted a haunted house, or "scare ground", couple of miles out of town.

"Seriously, why can't we just go to the scare grounds?" Ryan asked his Wolf companion. "You'd be right at home there, and Alex said it was scary".

"You can scare Alex pretty easily" the black-and-grey wolf retorted to his Dalmatian friend. "Besides, they're showing a new film tonight."

"What, that screwed-up one with the cubs?" Ryan asked rhetorically.

"Yeah" Sam replied. "You know, The Pup Experiments. They say its based off a true story."

Sam was a huge fan of horror films - mainly foreign horror, slasher films and films based on supposedly true events. Ryan, on the other hand, could only handle certain paranormal thrillers and a small threshold of slashers, and hated his companion's love of films with serial killers - and in this instance, cub experimentation gone horribly wrong.

"Okay, first of all, it can't be a true story - they'd never let that happen. Second, just what is wrong with you?"

"Come on, I know that shit isn't real" said Sam to Ryan. "Besides, its Halloween - the perfect time for messed up movies. I bet you're just scared, aren't ya?"

"No" the Dalmatian replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck, his ears drooping.

"And besides" Sam continued, perching an arm over Ryan, "if it gets scary, you've got me."

Ryan's tail started slowly wagging, a smile forming across his face. He tilted his head a bit to look at his other half, rub his nose into Sam's, and say "thanks, but you don't need to baby me."

"Whatever" Sam laughed. "The films gonna start soon, we need tickets."

The Wolf-Dalmatian pair walked over to the ticket vendor, which tonight was being handled by a light-brown goat guy, who looked as though he was about ready to collapse in boredom, having better things to do the night before Halloween.

The pair purchased tickets to see The Pup Experiments, getting the cardholders discount, got some snacks and drinks for the film and went to the screen.

. . . .

Ryan and Sam sat in one of the middle rows, geared up for the film. Sam had a huge grin on his face, tail wagging with intense speed and ears perked up as the room darkened for the feature. Ryan occasionally gave a sheepish grin back to his partner, trying to prepare himself for the horrors that lay ahead in the film.

For the next 150 minutes, the whole cinema sat through what could only be described as intense, borderline-psychotic horror and mindtricks, as they witnessed a film supposedly "based on the experimentation of over 100 children in eastern Europe - psychological and physically scarring". They witnessed near-unimaginable abuse, vile torture and a lot of cheesy death scenes, all giving of a near-unison gasp for act committed against the innocent victims in the film.

Whilst Sam jumped at a few choice scenes, all he really did was whisper about how tacky the film was, noting how "the head doctor is a terrible actor", "that girl doesn't look scare" and his favourite, "THE TWITCHING BLOOD-FOUNTAIN BOY".

Ryan, on the other hand, was watching with grave intensity, unable to look away whilst at the same time having to block the film from sight as the terror and morbidity increased. His ears constantly went from draping down to shooting up, his tail wagging in panic, feet fidgeting on the ground as he resisted the urge to run for the lobby in a blind panic. He had choked on popcorn a few times, nearly dropped his drink at most of the scares, and constantly muttered "oh god, oh god, oh god don't go in there". It's a safe assumption that Ryan was not good at dealing with the film.

. . . .

When the film was finally over and the credits began to scroll through, all attendants of the screening walked out in either a trance-like state of white-knuckle terror, a mild panicky hysteria, or gut-wrenching laughter at how dumb the film was.

Ryan was near paralytic in fear, while Sam couldn't help but give a commentary on the sheer stupidity of the film.

"I mean seriously, half of the blood looked fake - I'm pretty sure they used ketchup have the time."

"Y-yeah, so dumb" Ryan laughed nervously, still shuddering from the horror he just witnessed.

"Ah mate, don't even deny it" Sam started, putting his arm around Ryan as they began walking out of the cinema, "that film scared you."

"No way" Ryan said, shaking his head, trying to stop the fear in his voice appearing.

"Yes way" Sam laughed, shaking the Dalmatian with his one arm. "You haven't got a thing to worry about, I'll protect you from the big scary scientists."

"Shut up, dick" Ryan replied, a little giggle escaping, giving Sam a playful nudge with his shoulder.

. . . .

When the two canine boys got back to there apartment, it was essentially straight to bed, the two of them taking their positions in bed, Sam cuddling up to Ryan, acting as a sort of pillow-meets-shield. Although Ryan was comfortable and warm with his partner, he couldn't bring himself to fall to sleep. He remained awake, laying on his side, a mild irrational terror seemingly locking his eyes open.

His body was stiff in this trance-like state, keeping him motionless for what seemed like hours. He did however eventually drift off to sleep, perhaps due to the combination of Sam's warm breath on the back of his neck, the wolf's toned arms wrapped around him, and the pure fatigue which resulted from the terror of the film.

Despite this, Ryan seemingly re-awoke in the middle of the night. He could no longer feel the embrace of his friend and lover behind him, nor the soft double bed they shared. Instead, he was greeted to the feeling of a cold, hard floor made of vinyl.

He started to open his eyes to a vision he thought he'd hoped not to see. He looked up and saw that he fell out of bed, which was a seemingly poor excuse for a bed, with a cheap metal frame and a lifeless mattress with a single pillow and blanket which wouldn't hold off the cold in the room.

He used the bed to pull himself to his feet, feeling a dull pain from being in the same position on the floor for too long. When he finally got his bearings, the Dalmatian started to look around his small room. He had a single window, which let in the moons light, a desk with a tattered journal. He noticed the wallpaper was very plain, and fearing the pain of switching a light on, guessed the walls to be a light blue.

It was these little details that made him realise where he was.

He was in a room used for the experimentation of the pups in Europe.

"Oh Christ" he whispered to himself, his feet becoming jelly-like, shaking as he felt all ability to stand leave him. He went from his paws to his knees, feeling the hopelessness of the situation sink in.

Until he noticed his door was left open.

He remembered that they never locked the doors in the facility, so that the doctors and scientists in the facility had unlimited access to the patients bedrooms, day or night. With this sudden upheaval, and great trepidation, he snuck his way towards the door, pushed it further open, thankful that the doors hinges didn't give off a loud creaking noise.

He slowly pushed his door closed again from the other side, and turned to sneak around the facilities corridors. This wasn't much of an improvement; the corridors walls were a clinical white, a series of numbered white doors mirroring each other on each side of the corridor. He noted that his room was 1233, so that he could run back here and get under the cover, so that if he got caught, he'd at least have deniability.

Ryan crept slowly up the corridor, one lower paw after the other, looking due to a mixture of desire to escape, and pure morbid curiosity. The air in the building was cold, sending shivers down his spine and his tail, adding to the overall chill of the area. He kept creeping up the seemingly endless corridor until he found a sort of intersection, where he could turn right, left, or keep going down the way he was going. He took to the left corridor, feeling that in the seemingly endless maze of doors, corridors and fluorescent lights which were switched, there had to be a way out of the building, or at least to some sort of foyer or reception room.

He walked aimlessly through the corridor, experiencing no issues until he heard footsteps coming from up ahead. He turned to a left corner when he saw the torchlight projecting from another corridor. He looked back down the corridor until he saw what looked like a night shift attendant, a goat in a pair of rubber boots, a mint coloured shirt, a pair of mint trousers and a belt which, above all else, contained a needle with a tranquiliser injection for any unruly patients.

When he saw the attendant was going to turn his torches focus in the direction of himself, he quickly turned to hide against the wall, throwing his right paw over his muzzle to stop heavy breathing or whimpers exposing his whereabouts.

"Hello?" the attendant called down, remaining silent in search for a reply. Panic ran up Ryan's spine when he heard the footsteps start up again, only subsiding when he realised the attendant was just continuing down the corridor he initially was journeying.

He turned to keep going down the corridor he'd picked to stay out of the attendant's way. He knew that if he ran into any of the night attendants, he would most likely never get the chance to explore for an exit.

He continued down the corridor, now alert to the imminent threat of capture, sticking as close to the wall as he possibly could. He stayed on his toes for the painstaking journey down the corridor, constant fear hanging over his head, sending an awkward stiffness through his body. He felt his heart pumping through his veins, smacking into his ribcage as though it needed to escape its bony prison.

He had come to find a door in the middle of the corridor. On the front it said Night Guard, meaning he was in a highly dangerous area; his stomach tightened, threatening to release its contents.

He froze into place when he heard distant footsteps behind him. He slowly turned around to see if he was imagining things. He couldn't see who it was, but when he heard a set of voices, he knew that he was moments away from capture. He knew that he had a few short moments to decide where he had to go, to either get capture by the attendants or flee for survival; fight or flight, fight or die.

In a dire panic, he opened the door into the night guards' room and bunk, as stupid as it was to hide from the night attendants. The room was a relatively small one, containing a large, red plush sofa, a wooden floor with a small rug in the middle of it, a desk with scattered papers and drawers slightly open. On the opposite wall of the room he noticed another door, likely leading to the beds of the night attendants. He rushed over to the door, opening it to see that there were only two beds in the room. Taken the opportunity, and realising that he had very little time to hide, he launched himself down to the floor, scuttling his way underneath the bed to the right of the door, praying for some sense of invisibility.

His blood ran cold when he heard the main door outside open up, seeing a light come on in the other room, hearing the voices of the attendants.

"...And then the kid just launched himself across the table, and tried biting my neck" one of the attendants said.

"Oh yeah" replied his fellow attendant, sending out a small chuckle with it. "You have to admit, that was pretty funny".

"Yeah, yeah, whatever" the first attendant replied. "I can't wait to get my hands on that little fucker and just tear him apart!"

Hearing how the attendants were talking about some of his fellow patients in the facility made Ryan feel sick. He lay there frozen stiff from fear, trying all he could to stop himself from launching out from the room and attacking those attendants in anger. He knew that if he showed any signs of aggression or general chaos, he increased his chances of being selected for experimentation.

"Hey, man, before we go back, I need to get something from the bunk" said the second attendant. He that short moment, Ryan became intensely terrified, cursing under his breath.

He saw the door into the bedroom open up, flooding in more light from the outer room. The attendant flicked a light on in the room, causing Ryan to wince, clasping his paws over his mouth to stop a wince of pain escaping his muzzle. He could see the boots of the attendant walking over to the bed he was under, sitting on the bed, concaving the mattress so that it nearly touched Ryan's back.

Ryan stayed deathly still, hoping he was not captured. That was until he heard a voice pipe up in the other room.

"Hey! There's a patient under your bed!" The attendant on the other side of the door hollered.

Before Ryan could even think of moving from underneath the bed, He could feel the strong, overpowering grip of the attendants' hand clasping around his left ankle. He was pulled from under the mattress, forced into the painful light of capture, manhandled by the attendant, who he could now see was a ruthless looking tiger.

"Now then, what are you doing out of bed?" The tiger taunted from above him, twisting Ryan's arm painfully behind him, locking him down on the floor. "Don't worry, this'll only hurt a little," the tiger continued, before Ryan felt the stabbing of a needle in his arm.

Before he had time to react, Ryan could feel himself slip into a haze, barely conscious of what was going on around him. All he registered was that he was lifted up, completely stripped naked, strapped down by his hands and legs on a gurney.

As his sight began to clear, he realised that he was being taken down to what must have been one of the experimentation rooms.

It wasn't until he saw the face of a medical assistant wearing a mask that it really registered.

"Don't worry honey, it'll be over sooner than you think" the attendant said as she saw the panic form in his eyes. She looked over to another attendant and calmly commanded, "inject him again."

As soon as she said that, Ryan felt an injection into his arm. He turned to see the same burly tiger that had him in an arm lock on the floor of the night guard's station. Mere seconds later, he felt his body begin to stiffen.

For the rest of the long journey, he was forced to stare up to the ceiling, seeing the monotonous design repeating over-and-over again as he awaited arrival to his fate. The walls and roof were the same colour and made of the same material - filthy looking, grey and concrete. Off-colour fluorescent lit the corridor he was being sent down, sending a sort of green-grey hue over the journey. This made Ryan far more unsettled, as rather than this part of the facility being a clinical area, it gave off the feel of a slimy, disturbing aura all around, leaving him uneasy.

The gurney Ryan rides is forced through a set of double-doors, similar to those found in an average hospital. His gurney was put up against a grey wall in a room lit with white-fluorescent light, his head pointed towards the wall. In the room he could hear the groans of many other patients in the room, a disturbing mixture of feeble adults, fragile teens in pain and severely traumatised children.

He was left there for what felt like hours, but must have been the longest few minutes of his life. The cacophony of suffering within the room didn't help the matter, as he wished to be free of this.

Eventually, a nurse came to his gurney, a vile looking pig woman with brown hair and a wart of the left side of her face, looking down on him with a mixture of anger, contempt and sadism. "Looks like it's your turn, buddy," she said in her burly, vile voice.

Again Ryan was carted down a hall, from the waiting room filled with miserable patients, or subjects he thought, and into the main medical facility. He was left underneath the large lamps of the operating room, blinded by the sheer power they projected. He was unable to flinch away from the lights when they were turned on, so he just lay their, squinting his eyes, hoping that death was sooner than later.

"Alright" a man said in a large, booming voice - the surgeon. "Who do we have on the table today?"

"Patient 1223-69-110" the burly pig woman replied, coming into Ryan's frame of site.

"Excellent" The surgeon said, pulling on his gloves, walking onto the light to reveal himself to be a German Shepard. "Hello there" the surgeon said, addressing Ryan directly, "My name is Dr. Roddoman. I'll be performing surgery on you today."

Dr. Roddoman looked down on Ryan, leaning in very close, as though he wanted to get a good look at the panic in his eyes. Ryan was unable to move, but he felt an overwhelming urge to do something, anything - spit in his face; bite the surgeons muzzle; even leap up, grab a scalpel and use it as a weapon of self-defence.

"Now, now" Dr. Roddoman said, leaning in close to Ryan. "Don't worry, my beloved Dalmatian. We'll treat you good" he said, bringing a gloved hand to the side of Ryan's face, stroking him sensually. Unable to do anything about his ordeal, he had no choice but to take the abuse, shuddering at the disconcerting approach the doctor had with him.

"Hey, faggot" the pig nurse said, giving out a rough cough afterwards, "can we just get this show on the road?"

"In a minute, Darcy" Dr. Roddoman replied, looking deep into Ryan's eyes, piercing them with his power over him, "you know how I like to play. Especially with such a taste slab of meat" he remarked, rubbing his hand all down Ryan's naked body, sending disgusted shivers up and down his spine. "It's a shame we'll have to harvest you."

Those words sent Ryan into a frenzied panic, unable to act upon his instincts of fight or flight. As the surgeon pulled away from the light of the surgery lamp, Ryan took a deep swallow as best he could.

"Well then, let's get down to business" Dr. Roddoman said in a disturbingly optimistic tone, wielding a scalpel in his right hand. The blade glinted light from the lamp above, sending a flash into his eyes.

The scalpel began to descend upon his naked form, and that was when the first incision dug into Ryan's chest, sending a surge of pain through his body.

. . . .

Ryan awoke very quickly, bursting into life with a partial scream, partial gasp, covered in a cold sweat.

Ryan was gasping for breath, his heart racing as he took a moment to register his surroundings. He was back in his apartment with Sam, who had woken in shock along with Ryan.

"What's up? Are you okay?" Sam asked, panic in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine" Ryan replied between breaths. "It was just a nightmare. Is it okay if we just lay back down?"

"Yeah, sure" Sam said, getting back into position, Ryan getting relaxed in between his arms. "Was it about that movie?"

"I'll kill you" Ryan laughed, the nerves shedding away with every passing moment.