Raiyev Part 15
#15 of Raiyev
Raiyev sat up with a jolt, cold sweat matting his fur. He panted heavily, coughing as he looked around. Where am I? he thought. He was no longer strapped down on the table like he was before, but was now in what looked to be a large prison cell. The room was completely bare, except for the stone bed he had been laying on. It was attached to one of the two stone walls of the room. The other two walls, running opposite the stone walls, were a thick plastic or glass of some sort, with small holes for ventilation. Through one of these glass walls, he could see a corridor--obviously, the way out. Through the other, he could see another prison cell like the one he was in, only that other cell was empty.
He pounded on the wall that looked into the corridor, and shouted for help, but there was no response. Pressing his face up against it, he looked up and down the length of the corridor as much as he could. One end went straight for farther than he could see, but the other end--the end traveling in the direction of the other prison cell--ran into a T-intersection with another corridor just beyond the other prison cell. He kept shouting for help for a while, but when none came, he slumped back down onto the harsh stone bed.
He thought about the nightmare he had just had. He closed his eyes, concentrating on it--gods, it was awful. He had become too large, and had become a monster. He couldn't believe he would do such a thing to so many innocent people. And yet, part of it felt so real...but no, it couldn't have been real, could it? No, the thought of eating people, of laying so much waste to a city, of....he hated to think about it, but of fucking the city the way he had... It made him feel sick to his stomach.
In fact, as he noticed the feeling in his gut, he almost started to believe that it had been real. Whatever was in his stomach now wasn't sitting right with him at all, and he felt very ill from it. He rushed around, looking for a toilet or something, but there was nothing, so he bent over in a corner of the room and let loose, vomiting onto the floor. Tears welled in his eyes from the pain, and when all was done, he looked down. If he had anything left in him, he might vomit some more at what he saw, but he had to be sure. It just couldn't have been real! With trembling paws, he picked his fingers through his own vomit, and started crying as he came across the evidence.
Bodies. Tiny dead bodies. Most of them were mashed into a red paste that mixed with the sickly green of his vomit, but there were some that were still recognizable. What's more, there was also the tiny debris and furniture he has eaten. Flashbacks of the nightmare came to him, and he started piecing together the whole event in his head. He looked again at the mangled bodies covered in blood and vomit. Some of them, he saw, were children.
At this, he fell over on his side and bawled, crying uncontrollably. What had he done? How was this possible? Why had he done such a thing? What drove him to this? He couldn't believe what was happening, yet he was sure that he wasn't dreaming now. No, it was all too real. He had done those unspeakable acts that his nightmare showed him. He had actually done it. How many people had he needlessly killed? What was the death toll? How many billions of dollars of property damage did he do?
How many children had been left as orphans, and how many parents had had their children cruelly stolen away from them for his own sick, twisted...pleasure? Raiyev gulped as he realized this, and cried even harder. What were the final thoughts of all those people he killed? What had their ambitions and dreams been? They were all people--real people with real histories and feelings and regular every-day lives, just like he had been. What came over him that made him do such a terrible, unforgivable thing?!
How could anyone even get off on that sort of destruction? He remembered that part, too, and wept even harder...what was happening to him? Why did he jack himself off, using the city as a fuck-toy? He couldn't believe that he had such a fetish. He refused to believe it. It just wasn't like him.
And so he lay there, weeping for a while, wondering what would become of him, or if there was some way to end it all now and just commit suicide. Raiyev looked back over at the pile of his own vomit, containing that sick evidence of his being, and wondered how he could go through life now that he had become such a monster. Maybe, if he was lucky, he would rot in this prison cell and wouldn't have to worry about hurting anyone anymore.
Driven by a sudden rage against himself and against everything that had happened, be got up and ran to the glass wall facing the corridor, pounding against it with his muzzle pressed up against one of the ventilation holes. "WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?!" he cried out, yelling the question over and over again as loud as he could, tears streaming down his face, pounding for anyone to come. He kept it up for some minutes before sliding down against the glass, slumping into a ball, rocking back and forth, crying uncontrollably.
"Raiyev!" he heard a small voice whisper loudly after a few hours. He had nearly cried himself to sleep, but was afraid of falling asleep again, so had been doing his best to stay awake. He looked around, and saw standing just outside the glass wall on the other side of him was the diminutive figure of Dr. Frost.
"Dr. Frost," he said weakly. "What...how did...what's going on? What's happening to me?"
"There isn't much time," she said, looking around frantically. "I'm not sure how well this place is guarded." She pulled what looked like a thin rectangular glass plate from her pocket and held it up towards the glass wall, pressing her finger against the rectangular plate. The right half of the glass wall suddenly disappeared, and Dr. Frost scurried inside.
"How did you...?" Raiyev began, not exactly knowing which of all his questions he wanted to ask first. He wiped his paw over his face, drying his tears.
"The tranquilizer they gave me wasn't nearly as strong," Frost began explaining, "and I was able to fight it off. They shot me at the same time they shot you--just outside your apartment the other day."
"They?" Raiyev asked slowly, his voice hoarse from all his crying and yelling earlier. "They who?"
Frost panted a bit, still tense and frantic about being found out. She looked around again for a moment before answering. "They're humans, Raiyev. Humans--those alien creatures that rednecks here always claim to see and be probed by. I've seen them for myself."
Raiyev stood dumbfounded, his mouth agape, unsure how to process this new information. "But...why have they taken us? What is this all about?"
"I don't know just yet," Frost responded quickly. "After I fought off the tranquilizers, I managed to slip away. When they brought us to this base here, I hid inside some air vents. That's where I've been staying, and I've been looking all around for a way to help you out. It took me a while, but I'm here now."
Raiyev cautiously hugged the tiny hybrid to him, weeping softly. "Thank you," he said. "I don't know what's happening to me...you won't believe what I've done..."
Frost returned the unexpected and forceful hug. "I'm not sure that there's time for that now. We've got to get you out of here!"
"What about Brad?" Raiyev asked, suddenly remembering him. "Do you know where he is?"
Frost stared at him for a moment, the truth in her eyes. "I haven't seen him yet," she sighed. "Come on--let's get you out of here before we both get into further trouble."