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Arthur

The sound of cracking thunder awoke me from my sleep.

My breathing was sharp, rough, and quick. A nightmare had plagued me over the course of two nights, making it unbearable for me to get any actual shut eye. Soldiers from the head Task Master had scolded me and slapped me for not doing my work exactly how they wanted it, but I took it without my mom or dad knowing. They had much more to deal with than a fourteen year-old getting slapped.

They were still fast asleep only a few feet away from me. Only a single cotton cover kept them warm and they shared a long, straw-filled pillow. Not the most comfortable thing to rest your head on but it was better than laying your head on the ground. That said, we were lying on the ground anyway but that little bit of comfort made everything much better. Well, saying that everything was better was an understatement considering we were still slaves forced to work on a Task Master's property for the rest of our lives.

Waking them up just because of a bad dream would only make them mad, I guessed. It had been a long day yesterday, and the sun had beat down all its blazing might on all the slaves working in the field, actually making some pass out. Every single time I saw someone pass out, I wanted to go and help them but I didn't want to get a whip cracked on my back.

My father learned that lesson the hard way.

I looked over at him, making out the white bandage running up his forearm. The soldiers of the Task Master Jupiter Thalum were hardened, cold, hateful men who showed no remorse for us. They would pull out a gun and shoot us without a second thought, and I had seen it to know that. Actually, I had seen enough people die on this property to last me a lifetime but every now and again I would hear the gunshot from a gun then see the body of a slave fall onto the ground, completely lifeless. My parents tried to help me forget about each death, but I had seen it so many times that it was scarred into my mind forever.

Thinking about it now, I wish I could've helped them. But I couldn't, and I didn't. Was it because of fear that I would die or was it because that I didn't want to say goodbye to my parents or see them cry? I lost a lot of people that I had called friend this past year, and it took me just the entire year to learn that you had to fight to survive, and that meant stepping on others to do so.

I said that I learned it. What I didn't say was that I believed it. I would never stoop so low as to step over another person just to get by. Even I proved it. Some of the other slaves thought I was crazy, but I was perfectly sane actually compared to the slaves that had actually gone mad from working here for many years. Yes, only a handful of the slaves here were actually mentally insane but they still worked for weird reasons. My father said that they had lost their mind, literally, and now their only desire was to work until they died. I didn't believe it until the others confirmed it by calling the ones who had lost their mind "the shattered".

To think, you could actually lose your mind just from being a slave for almost your entire life? Just thinking about it made me feel uneasy inside. I didn't want to be here for the rest of my life and lose my mind to a bunch of people who didn't care one bit about us. I'd rather die a normal life than be a slave to people who didn't care about whether we lived or died or not.

We'd just be replaced in a matter of days.

Sitting forward, my back popped a few times. I wanted to groan, but I didn't want to wake up my mom or dad. For the time, I held it in as much as I could until the slight pain subsided. The rain continued to hammer down on our "home" like drops of tiny pebbles, just rattling the air with their jagged, loud beat that just annoyed me for the past few minutes. Suddenly, the impactful clasp of thunder rattled the air, making the hair son the back of my neck stand on their end. The ground seemed to vibrate as if an earthquake was about to rummage through the property, shaking the metal sheets we called our roof.

Trying to stay as silent as possible, I pulled my legs toward my chest and hugged them, hoping that they could at least give me comfort. They didn't talk or speak but holding something made me feel so much better. At this time, I would love nothing more than to feel my mother's arms wrap around me and caress my head, her soothing voice telling me that things were going to be okay. Even a pat on a head from my dad's callused paw-padded hands or a compliment on yesterday's work would make me feel ten times better right now.

But asking for that seemed too much. They were both tired and so was I. The sweat and dirt were mixed in with their fur, making them look dirty and dusty, almost like they had never had a shower. My father lay on his side with my mother, his arm draped over her body in a way that made it look like no one was going to take her from him. Well, she didn't seem to bother with my father's snoring, which proved that she could tolerate anything. One thing I wish I had: earplugs, or some sort of sound proof material that would barricade my ear drums from that horrible sound.

This day still made me feel a little sad. A year ago, we had been taken from our home to work for someone we wanted no deal with. This was the same day. My birthday. I was officially fourteen years-old but everything just felt bittersweet to me since this wasn't exactly a happy day for any of us. It was just another hum-drum day filled with hard work, heat--once the sun came out--that was going to beat down on us, and the sound of whips being cracked on a slaves' back.

Yep, this was just a regular, ordinary day. Nothing special about it, at least, not to anyone else but me and possibly my family. I wondered if they actually knew what day it was. If they didn't, then it was going to be okay. Keeping track of the days was difficult, but eavesdropping on the soldiers about their conversations was easy. I just happened to get the week, month, and day from them without doing anything.

Using a thin stick that was lying right next to me, I wrote out the day, month, and year as best I could. Then, I put 'Happy Birthday' right under it all with the number fourteen right under that. All that was missing was a candle...which I didn't seem to have at the moment.

I sighed. "Time to make a wish." I whispered as quietly as possible to myself, trying my best to make sure my parents couldn't hear. Then again, with the sound of the rain and the snoring from my father, I think I was okay. I looked at the ground and closed my eyes, making my wish and, once I was done, blew on the ground, completely fading the letters out until they were clearly unreadable.

What was my wish? Well, they say that it doesn't come true if I tell someone, does it? Sorry, I'm going to have to keep that to myself until I knew for a fact that it's going to happen. Go ahead and guess, I never said you couldn't.

Still, a sense of relief swept over me somehow. Even though my parents were out like lights, at least I still celebrated my birthday and that was all that mattered. I wasn't going to put it on them to remember things like this. So long as they were okay and still breathing, then I was perfectly content with having a bad day.

Now...what to do. I could stay up until the sun came up as well and get the head start on things, not that I even wanted to in the first place, or I could try to go back to bed and get a little more shut eye before the sun came up to mark the start for our day. Hmm...I was an adventurous person but I wasn't shattered.

With that, I laid my head down on my pillow and shut my eyes, falling back asleep instantly.

A few days passed by in the blink of an eye. The sun only seemed to get worse and worse by the hour, making more and more of the slaves begin to pass out from dehydration and heat stroke. Obviously the soldier's didn't like that, so they went on a beating spree, cracking their whips across the bodies of fallen slaves as if that was going to help them get them on their feet.

I just wanted to drop my metal hoe, the farmer's tool, and stop the beatings, but my parents stopped me. They told me to just try and move on and not worry about them. That was hard, considering that a slave that worked right next to me had passed out and was being whipped non-stop, and I just worked like nothing was going on. Oh, the tears that filled my eyes...I just wanted to stop what I was doing and help the man even if that meant putting myself in harm's way. He cried out for help dozens of times, howling out in pure agony and despair as the soldier picked him up and dragged him off towards "the cellar".

One word: torture. That was all I was going to say on that.

I shuddered even now just thinking about that. Just then, someone shoved me forward, pushing me onto my knees. It was a soldier, and he didn't sound too happy for some odd reason.

"I didn't say you could stop working, slave," he spoke in an early cold, adult voice, with a hint of robot that made him sound more cyborg than fur. He pushed me forward, making get on my hands and knees. "Get back to work."

He walked off, leaving me to get up and gather my things once more. My heart raced when I felt his hands grab onto my shoulders and hold me down. There was a moment where I almost thought he was going to whip me just for not working as hard as the other slaves around me.

The others didn't even bat an eye at me. A vixen, who wasn't my mom, just wiped her forehead and continued to plow the ground for the last of the crops. A husky to my left pulled the weeds from the ground from where the new lettuce was forming, not even looking my way to say he was sorry or something. They had just gotten used to seeing others being beaten and pushed around and just let it be, unable to do a thing about it. They didn't even look the way of the kids my age or younger who were getting pushed around and punished which just made me angry inside. How could someone do that to another person, especially a kid, and not try and stick up for them? There was no honor in this place, and there certainly was no good for me here.

Still plowing the ground, I looked up ahead to see my father and mother working simultaneously, just in synch with one another. My father plowed the ground up ahead then my mother planted the seeds that would be the crop in the next three months. Once she was done planting, my father did the watering and moved on to the next pile. They didn't say a word to each other but their eyes told each other the things that they needed to know.

I wondered how they did it. Maybe one day I'll learn how to do that too. That being said, if I don't die out here in the field first, or become shattered working out here for the rest of my life. Being beaten or shattered just made chills go up my spine. It hadn't happened yet, but I could almost feel the whip cracking down on my back any day now.

And it didn't feel good.

The next two hours were exactly the same, minus being pushed down by a soldier just for working slower. The sun continued to shine its hot rays down onto me, boiling my skin and burning my fur like an invisible fire. We had one water break, which only lasted for five minutes, and then we went back out to work once more. It was just clockwork and if you survived the day then you had to do it all over again, for the rest of the year and possibly the rest of your life.

It was an hour past midday when things seemed to let up on us. The clouds over our heads blocked out the sun for quite some time, allowing us to work better for the next half hour with half the heat we're used to. The sounds the other slaves made once the shadows passed over their bodies were ones of pure joy, praising God that he was still watching over them, on us. They seemed to work more efficiently with one another without the blinding sun shining in their faces constantly, making the heat easier to cope with for the next hour or so.

Just when I thought that I was done with the soldiers, the same soldier that pushed me down earlier came up to me and grabbed me by my arms, and he brought a friend to help out. Instantly, I screamed at the top of my arms, struggling to break free from his death-lock grip. My parents overheard my scream and dropped their tools, sprinting right for me.

The soldier from earlier pulled out a gun and aimed it right at them, forcing them to stop right in their tracks. "Not another step or I'll shoot, got it? Someone just wants to see this little brat and he'll be back out here before you know it."

Was it who I thought it was? It so, then was it really necessary to use two soldiers to restrain me and take me to her location? Even as they took me away, I struggled against their grip, fighting against them the whole way. My parents just stood there sobbing, just hoping that nothing terrible happened to me while I was gone. I could see my father hold my mother as securely as he could while trying to stay strong himself.

Five minutes of tough dragging soon passed. They brought me closer and closer towards the large mansion, almost as if to say that I didn't belong on this part of the estate. Seeing the large house up close never made me feel good. Jupiter Thaulm owned the mansion and all of us slaves and this was his home, which was more like a prison than an actual home.

I hadn't seen Jupiter or his family but from what the slaves told me, I didn't want to meet him. He was said to be cruel, hateful, and just purely void of any sympathy for any slaves that he owned. From books that I've read, I almost compared him to Napoleon Bonaparte or Adolf Hitler or any other dictator that once ruled.

Actually, now that I think about it, he was pretty much the dictator here. He was a dictator of sorts since he controlled all of the slaves and mainly his entire family, except he couldn't control the entire planet. The Overlord had all the power in the world sadly. Just thinking about someone with an unlimited amount of strength made an unsettling feeling inside me begin to arise. How could someone with just so much power be so hateful and cruel? I guess it was because they were corrupt and just cared about nothing more than power and wealth.

Man, people like that just make me sick.

They dropped me off right beside the mansion and walked off. The sun was up and created a shadow where I was at, giving me the ability to actually see without the sun blocking my sight. I stood up and looked around. There was no one here. Soldiers patrolling the gates paid no mind to me and the soldiers patrolling the grounds didn't even bat an eye my way.

Taking advantage of my presence, I looked down the hill. The soldier had grabbed me by my neck as well, making it annoying to the point where I had to scratch it just to get that feeling away. Oblivious was I to not realize what I had done, but you know, though I hated working from early dawn until late dusk, the view was pretty spectacular. I could see the vegetable, wheat, and corn fields stretch out in the distance and blend in together beautifully in a colorful array of crops. The slaves working out there looked like tiny dots that almost ruined the canvas of colors, but they continued to move, making everything look like a moving painting.

The horse stables where we were forced to sleep were placed far away from the fields, stretching pretty far just to accommodate every family of slaves. At least the stables had been cleaned before a new slave arrived else every slave would just reek for weeks to come. The only feral horses that lived on the property anyway lived on the hilltop with Jupiter and his family and anyone else of importance. I hadn't seen them but I had been told by others and just went with it.

A dirt area was placed right in front of the entrance of the stables with a water well placed right in the center. The soldiers refilled the well every day, which was the only thing we could thank them for, and kept most of us from dying. Everything else that wasn't a crop field was just lush, green grass that grew to my knees and grew behind the stables. The grass actually looked completely void of any problems or flaws, just waving in the wind making odd patterns and swirls from time to time. No doubt it would all eventually be plowed over as well to make way for something new, like a crop field, a road, or some sort of slave storage stable.

Either way, it was going to be ruined or something along those lines. Nothing here ever stayed the same. If slaves were passing out or dying, the soldiers would be constructing something new like a new power line or continuing the road from the dirt road that brought us here all the way to the mansion.

I jumped once I felt someone touch my shoulder. "Whoa!" Once I realized that it was my friend then I started to calm down again.

Her name was Washa Stewart--a wolfess maid for Jupiter. Oh, how I wish I could just work with her instead of on that dreadful field. I'd rather go back and work on my family's farm than work here. She was probably the only person I came to trust around here, unlike most of the other slaves here. My parents had more respect for her than they did for Jupiter himself, but I don't think anyone here respected Jupiter for that matter.

Actually, she wasn't even a slave surprisingly. She just worked for Jupiter because she needed to take care of her son my age who lived in a town twenty miles away, working for a Task Master. I really did feel for her and that was one of the reasons why I respected her. She was going out of her way to protect and care for her son by working for a horrible man that paid her good money. That took guts and most of all it took much strength to swallow her pride and work for a man that didn't care about whether or not she lived or died.

The wolfess wore only a ragged black skirt and a white button-up shirt with her sleeved rolled up. Her shirt looked like it was covered in dirt, telling me that she had been on her hands and knees cleaning up all the filth and dirt around the inside of the estate. Her long black hair streamed past her shoulders, tied into a pony-tail, while her eyes still gleamed with kindness, showing me that she wasn't at all corrupt.

She placed a finger over her mouth, nodding my way. "Shh, we don't want to let any of Jupiter's personal guards seeing us. Heaven knows that he'll kill us both if he finds out."

"I know, I know," I whispered towards her.

She nodded and looked around, rummaging through the basket she held in her arms before she held out a small loaf of bread. "Here, I was able to smuggle this through the guards. It may not be much, but it's better than starving out there to death like the others."

I graciously took the food, biting into it with hunger. "Thank you, so much." I sincerely stated, taking more and more bites into the delicious bread, finding it fulfilling once it replenished my energy.

I saw her smile, which made me blush. She looked out in the field though and sighed. "No need to thank me, Arthur. You're just such a sweet boy and it pains me to see you work your tail off out there every day. I've heard of the terrible things going on out there. The other slaves, the soldiers, the corruption..." She shook her head, turning back to look at me. "I know this past year hasn't exactly been easy on you or your family, but hopefully we can see an end to all of this soon."

She ruffled my hair, forcing me to smile while brushing it back into its messy place with my claws. "I hope so too."

I remembered when I first met her about seven months ago. She was checking on things in the field when she spotted me on my hands and knees, wiping drops of sweat off of my forehead, just praying for some water. She came over to me and gave me a sip of her own, making me realize that not everyone on this property were evil people. From that moment on, she helped my family and me from time to time, sometimes being able to help the other slaves as well.

When we met on that day I thought that it was just some little favor that she expected me to pay back in the near future. I was wrong. About twice a month, she would smuggle some extra food for my family and I and to the other harder working slaves as well. From time to time, she even aided the shattered, which amazed me since they didn't have much of a mind to do anything but work. Yet, they accepted her help without a word to backtalk her.

Mom and dad grew to like her and so did I. Nothing she said or did made me question whether she was loyal to the Task Masters or Overlord or to the Revolution. As far as I knew, she was completely neutral on the whole subject. She fully against the enslavement of another individual but then again, she was also against the killing of one--something that both sides have done countlessly. Where she stood on the entire war was a mystery to me, yet I hoped that she was more on my side than theirs. If I found out she secretly worked for them then I was sure that we wouldn't be good friends anymore. If she was all for the Revolution though, I knew we could like each other.

About twenty minutes passed by. Surprisingly, none of the soldiers even batted an eye at us. We sat against the wall of the mansion just in silence, taking in the cool refreshing breeze that just blew against us like a velvet cover of pure relaxation. The heat wasn't much of a bother anymore and that might have been because we were underneath lots of shade and the breeze was cooling us down. I wasn't complaining though, yet I wished that my parents could join me together with Washa, allowing our problems to go away until we were caught. The leaves around us just rustled together in some sort of particular rhythm and sound that wasn't annoying but actually kind of beautiful. With the whistling of the wind mixed with the rustling of the early autumn leaves, the sound was pure in every shape and form and just let us relax and be grateful of the free time we had for the moment.

But with all happiness, there are downsides.

Right as I almost felt like taking a nap, the sound of a loud gunshot broke the quiet barrier, rattling us both from our sitting positions. My heart had to be on overdrive, that or anxiety was filling my nerves. We both shot to our feet and looked around to investigate. In our moment of noticing nothing, we saw zero guards patrolling the gates and none protecting the mansion. Everything around us was quiet, aside from the rustling of the leaves and whispers of the wind.

Just then, another gunshot broke through the silence.

Washa and I turned our heads towards the direction of the sound. It was coming from the bottom of the hill where the slave stables were. Upon further investigation we found that people from the estate and all the slaves had gathered around two wooden pillars that had been planted right next to the well. Since we were too high up, I couldn't tell what was going on but I could see figures tied around the poles, kind of like when witches from back in the old days were tied to pillars and burned alive for being...well, witches.

Whoever those people were, they needed help. The slaves and soldiers around them seemed to only be cheering and begging for more, allowing another shot to be fired into the sky. My heart seemed to be beating erratically the entire time, making it hard to catch up with my breathing which seemed to be quick and sharp, almost as if those people were more important than they looked.

Quickly, I shot forward and started going down the hill as fast as I possibly could to get to the bottom of things. No pun intended right there but go ahead and smile if you need to. Washa was only a few yards behind me but I couldn't wait for her. Whatever was going on, I knew it was bad just from the way the back of my neck was beginning to itch.

Why didn't I realize it before? Why was I so stupid? I should've realized something bad was going to happen but I chose to ignore it like the fool I was! For all I knew, this could have been prevented if I had just followed my own intuitive feeling.

"Go on! Beg for mercy!"

"You're both pathetic and worthless! Stupid slaves!"

"Hit them again! Go on! Do it! I wanna see them cry!"

As we neared the massive circle of slaves and soldiers, their words only became more and more painful to hear. If those were soldiers strapped to the pillars, I still didn't believe that whatever was going on was right. If they were slaves on the other hand, I was sure that I would be trying to free them from their restraints. Nothing seemed to stop my heart from racing, almost like epic story music was playing and the beat and notes were only getting faster and faster until the climax hit.

I quickly broke through the lines of men and women. Both the slaves and soldiers kept chanting the same things that I had heard before, if not something worse. Some of them tried to push me back, but I was persistent and continued to push through, shoving a few of them aside just to press on forward. Washa stayed behind and looked for a different route to the front. I was just too fearful of missing the spectacle to try and find a different way in, so I just went through the crowd, finding that they grew even more hateful as time went on. They raised their fists in the air and shouted over one another, booing the people I guess that were tied to the pole.

The exit to the crowd of people wasn't that far away after a few minutes of pushing people aside, apologizing along the way. Even though they were acting un-civilized, that didn't mean I had to stoop to their level. Though some of them were shattered while others were just mean, I had to stay with my own personality. Only a few seconds later did I finally reach the edge, finally seeing what the fuss was about.

Honestly, I wish I hadn't.

Henry

There were times where I wish I could just take my family from this terrible place and hide them from everyone for forever. I knew it was probably impossible, because I tried, but there was no shame in at least trying. These were the two people I loved and cared about more than anything else in the entire world, and I swore that I would protect them from harm no matter the cost.

Well, seems my plans haven't exactly been going my way, huh? For the past year I had been trying to think of clever ways to get by the guards, rid us of our tracker-bracelets, and find somewhere safe. Sadly though, all my plans just never work out the way I want them to. Our biggest problem were the bands clasped around our wrists, so long as they remain there then Jupiter and his cronies can hunt us down with ease. The other problem was the guards that patrolled the grounds. They patrolled both day and night, through both storm and shining day, and through tornado and hurricane. Whoever trained these men, I tip my hat to him if I had one.

I grunted, punching the dirt ground as hard as I could. Clara gasped in shock but soon realized why I was so frustrated. She bent down and got on her knees, rubbing my back with her careful, smooth hands that helped me feel much better. Sometimes I actually wished that those hands were magical, able to get us far away from this dreadful place and completely secure of safety.

We met each other's eyes. I knew she was having her bad feelings just like Arthur does. Hell, even I felt it on the back of my neck. We both knew only bad things were going to happen soon, but how soon we couldn't tell.

"You feel it, don't you?" she asked, helping me back onto my feet.

I nodded, sighing grievingly. "Yeah, and it doesn't feel right either. It's not like the other feelings we've had though. This one feels much more...worse than the others."

She nodded. "Mmm-hmm. I agree. Whatever it is, I don't think it involves Arthur though."

"Agreed," I nodded. "I just hope that he's safe. If that soldier did anything to him, I swear I will tear each one of them to pieces."

She saw me ball up my fists to the point where they shook. Her arms wrapped around my arms and proceeded to calm me down, comforting me and my unsettling nerves. We both sighed, hoping that he was okay. Trusting a soldier was like trusting a non-anthro snake to not bite you once you turn your back to it. Then again, that was the world we lived in today. Everyone stepped over one another to get ahead of each other without any disregard for women or children, actually using them as tools to get further ahead of everyone else.

It made me sick. How could you do that to someone? Never had I stepped over someone just to save my own skin. Sure, I hadn't been part of the social world for the past decade or so but that didn't mean I stepped over anyone just to save myself. I was a proud man with too much pride for that.

Remembering when I had to swallow my pride to save my family was tough on me to this day. That was my home, the same home I tended to for thirteen years and would've been fourteen just a few days ago. But what was more important? My family or my farm? Clearly my family, else we would've been either shot to death like our livestock or burned up like the rest of our property back home.

We both stood there for a few minutes just pondering things over. Escaping just seemed like Mission Impossible. Our chances of even getting past the boarder of Jupiter's land seemed unlikely. If we killed one of the guards then I was sure that they wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in-between our heads, if we could even kill a soldier with all that said. I had to think about the safety of Arthur and Clara as well. If I lost them...there would be no point to escape. I'd rather join them in death than live a life without seeing them every single day.

Just then, someone decided to cut into our moment of quiet. "Hey! You should get back to work, dumbass."

I turned my head towards the voice. Of course it was Gareth. That leopard always found it a hobby to burst our quiet calm whenever he wanted to. I swear, the man needed to find a different hobby. He was annoying, hateful, and just so far uncaring but not shattered shockingly.

"No one asked for your input, Gareth," I snapped, furrowing a brow towards him.

He pulled his plow forward then wiped his forehead of sweat, standing up as straight as possible. A few bones in his back popped, earning a groan of pain from the feline before he spoke.

"Too bad, you're getting it anyway," he retorted.

"Go back to your plowing, you hateful bastard," Clara shot at him, turning her head away from the disgusting cat.

He chuckled, placing both pawish hands on the end of his tool. He gave her a smirk, one that I found completely rude and arrogant of him. "Oh, don't worry, I'll be plowing something soon, if you catch my drift...little miss."

I stormed his way immediately while my wife gasped out in shock. If I had at least a baseball bat then I would make sure he was going to get a major headache by the end of the day, if you catch my drift. If he could be more disgusting than he was, then anything was possible but hitting on my wife? He crossed the line.

Seconds later was I at eye level with him, the tips of our noses just barely touching. "You dare say another thing to my wife and I swear I'll plow you right in the face, if you catch my drift."

He huffed, pushing me back with his bare hands. "Oh, I'm so scared of some fox who would look rather good on his hands and knees with his mouth buried right in the groin of a man. 'Cause that's what foxes like right? The c-- "

My anger boiled to its breaking point, and I let it burst. I pulled my arm back and landed my fist across his face, listening well as I heard the crack of his muzzle. He howled out in pain, cursing me out, as I pushed him down and pinned him against the ground, continuing to land critical blows against his face. He tried to fight back against the onslaught of painful blows that I gave to him, to no avail of course.

"You fuckin' son of a bitch!" he cursed at me, using his hands to try and pry me off his body.

I landed a hard smack right to his jaw, panting long and hard as he gave up and went unconscious. "That's what you get, fuckin' bastard."

"Henry! Watch out!" Clara warned.

"Wha--" I tried to say until I felt the crushing blow of someone's knee connect to my jaw.

I was knocked right off of Gareth and rolled a few feet away from him. The searing pain that went throughout my entire body, sending sparks of discomfort and hurt all around me. I shook my head and tried to restore my foggy vision, wondering what exactly was it that just hit me.

The taste of blood filled my mouth just before my vision started to come back to me. I turned my head again and saw one of the solders bend down and land another hard blow against my face while a second came out of nowhere and pummeled my ribs like a soccer ball. I howled out in pain and cringed, trying to ball myself up to minimalize the damage, sadly to no avail as well.

The blows continued to hit my body, hard I might add. I could feel blood begin to flow from my nose and stain the ground and my clothes. Pain continued to surge throughout my body like a blood fire that only seemed to grow in intensity, filling my body with a racking hurt. I cursed at the soldiers, using my own hands to push them away, though that seemed to only aggravate them further, forcing them to punch and kick even harder than before.

"Get your hands off of him!"

Clara's voice came in, filled with an anger that seemed to be un-topable. Even with the blurry vision that I had, I watched as she pushed both of the soldiers off of me, allowing me to catch my breath and gather my strength. While I was doing that, she kicked one of them in the face then socked the other right in the nose, making him groan in as much as I was in.

As I got to my feet, she kicked one of them right in the groin then grabbed the other by the throat and slammed him right into the ground, choke-slamming him as hard as she possible could. Blood covered many of her fingers and I could see a few stains on her ragged, loose-fitting, dirty white shirt and torn, knee-high jeans. She turned back and came to me, helping me stay on my feet while I could regain focus on things and start regaining my energy.

She slung one of my weak arms over his shoulders, holding me on my feet as I gathered my bearings. "Are you alright?"

I nodded, rubbing my eyes, staining the fur around them with crimson colored blood from Gareth and myself. "Y...yeah, I'm okay. Don't worry, okay?"

"I have every reason to worry, Henry."

I groaned out in pain, clutching my side as pain shot through my body. "Alright, alright. Fair enough. I just hope that that's the last of 'em."

Before I could even think about our next move, as if we had one to begin with, Clara gasped and was pulled away from me. I suddenly fell right onto the ground with my arms pinned behind my back. Whoever was on top of me had to have been a soldier, and whether it be a he or she, they were binding my arms behind my back with rope, making more excruciating pain rocket throughout my body once more.

"Don't count on that bein' the last of us, slave," I heard his rough and ragged, stern voice mock from behind me as he tightened the restraints. "You got anything to say for yourself, huh?"

"Go...to hell, you son of a bitch," I coughed, spitting out blood all over the dirt. I turned my attention to my wife, who was also being restrained like me. I summoned all the strength I had, yelling at the top of my lungs, fighting through the pain, as I shook the soldier off of me as best I could. "Get your damn hands off my wife you bastards!"

Somehow I was able to get the soldier off my back, yet that didn't do me any good in the long run. I barely got three feet away from him before he was on me yet again, pushing my face right into the dirt. Clara continued to fight back with me, using her free feet to kick and jab at the soldier's right in the side, making them shout out as many curse words that they could. Two of them toppled over on the sides, groaning out in agony while a second duo stormed over and continued to subdue her with all their strength, tying her legs together so she couldn't fight back.

I myself tried to fight though I was already weakened from my previous fight. Still, I gave it everything I had but it didn't seem to matter. While the soldiers tightening the rope did their thing, another appeared right in front of me and fell onto his knees, grabbing me by the chin before socking me right in the face, making me black out.

I woke up in a fuzzy daze. There were twos...threes...I think even fours of everything all around me. Whatever I thought was real seemed to be fake, and what seemed to be fake still turned out to be fake. My ears rang as if a grenade had gone off right next to my ear, though I wasn't deaf just yet, not by a long shot.

Only seconds later did I realize that I was strapped to a wooden pole, tightly I might add. Damn, whoever trained these men to tie their rope, I tip my hat to them even though they made me sick to my god damn stomach. I struggled even in my daze against the tight rope, finding it near impossible to break the restraints no matter what I did, unless I was made of fire of something.

To my right was Clara, and she was in the same predicament I was in. Rope wove around her body, clasping her legs and arms to the wood that we were strapped against, leaving us at the mercy of whoever did this. She was starting to awaken from her post-black-out as well, taking in her surroundings just like I was.

"What...the hell?" I groaned out, already feeling the pain from earlier begin to settle in once more. It must've not been long since we had been brutally beaten by the soldiers if my wounds were still fresh. Blood still dripped from my nose and I could still feel that agonizing pain in my side. I think I may have cracked a rib.

I started to take in more and more of the situation that I...I mean, we were in. Around us were slaves and soldiers, and they didn't seem all too pleased for some odd reason. Actually, I take that back. Each and every one of them were booing us like some sort of terrible circus performance. We may have been tied to these poles but that didn't mean we were wild animals.

Then, I met the eyes of Gareth.

"You little fucker," I whispered, meeting his hateful eyes.

He smiled and waved goodbye, disappearing into the crowd. He was still covered in blood, thankfully just to give me a better sight to look at, but he looked just fine as well. I would've rather seen him strapped to this pole rather than the two of us, but I'll bet anything that he twisted the words that I said and made it look like I picked a fight with him when he was the one that actually started it. Maybe that was the reason everyone was booing and shaming us, and they were oblivious to the entire truth.

"If I survive this, I swear I'm gonna beat the shit out of you, Gareth," my anger boiled once more, cursing him and his entire family.

As I looked away from the crowd of people, someone began to walk towards us. I jerked my eyes to see who it was. He was a panther with a fur coat the color of the darkest of midnight, almost like a shadow and his yellow eyes only made my nerves stay on edge. He was muscular but not too bulky as he looked toned, allowing his body better movement when walking or possibly attacking. A crisp white tuxedo wrapped around his body along with a red tie that showed that he was of high importance.

It took me seconds to realize who exactly it was. Before I did, I noticed that in one hand he carried a handgun and in the other he carried a brand new whip, and I bet anything that it had Clara and my name's written on it. He smirked and cracked the whip into the air, making me shudder out in fear, Clara as well.

That was when I realized who it was.

"Y...You're..." I tried to summon my words, though I was just too weak and too shocked and very frightened.

He chuckled, using his whip to lift my chin to his eye level. I didn't even notice that he placed the gun right into my side because my eyes were lost so deep within his menacing, body cringing ones. I could see his pearly white teeth turn into a Jack Skellington smile, making me feel more and more uneasy by the second.

The panther smiled. "Save your breath, Henry Wing. Just call me Jupiter."

And with that, he pulled the trigger and fired the bullet right into my body.