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Book of Lies

Impetus.

This term refers to the starting motion or action that leads to something happening. An impetus can be simple, like a push down a hill to make you tumble, or dropping a paperclip, which leads to you getting fired both literally and metaphorically.

An impetus, is simply the start. The cause. The outline. The blank paper.

If we were to refer to an impetus in humans, this would be the starting point of their "story". And I don't mean that they were born, or their parents met, or anything like that. I mean the moment when a person's life story truly begins. When they break free from normality and take a step into what one would assume is the real world. Everyone has this impetus, whether someone is pushing them or it is simply dropping a paper clip into a vat of highly flammable chemicals.

Of course, that made me quite the phenomena. I did _not_have an impetus. Nor would I ever. It was simply my fate, and it is simply how my story would go.

But at the same time, calling myself a phenomena is extremely arrogant. No, I'm actually a bit of a common event. Let's say that this world was nothing but a story, which it technically is as it's a series of interconnecting events with a beginning and an end. The author would be our creator (let's say God, as it's the most common name for this entity), and like all authors and their stories, we would be the characters.

I was a side character. I'm here for support. I'm meant to help others, to be quirky, to break up the monotony of a story line. I'm just a side dish.

But don't get me wrong. I like who I am. I like helping people, and I like trusting others, and I like pushing the main characters to develop into the perfect little beings that God wrote them out to be. It's simply the way things happened.

So you can imagine my surprise as the building around me crumbled, and you can imagine the sheer shock that my mind, body, and soul must have been dealing with as I saw anthropomorphic dogs that I recognized immediately as my classmates come running in. And you can imagine how long this one instant must be for me to consider, as well as think to you, all these facts and opinions that I'm thinking up right now.

"Come with me, or die!" He said, fur disheveled, blood staining his paw.

And so it is at this moment that my "story" turned to the strange. My fate was "side character", nothing more, I'm sure. So why is it that I'm being given an impetus? Do I even want to take it? Like I said, I was content with my life, and I'm sure that the "or die!" part was an exaggeration. But I know that following him would definitely take my life down an entirely new path.

So was I willing to risk it all, just for a chance at a new fate? After all, even if I took it . . . could I kill what was me right now? Would I willingly shoot my past in hopes of giving birth to an unknown future?

I bite my lip, but immediately grasp his paw. "Ok." I say, the most determined look in my life painting my face.

* * First Shift * *

* * Impetus * *

* * (Time shift, this morning) * *

The class was rowdy as usual, but teenagers will be like that, I guess. I look down at the lump contemplatively, considering how I should approach the problem.

"So, Marilyn, my dear best friend, how exactly did this happen again?" I let out a small huff, looking at my long time child hood friend.

"It's a long story." She says, looking away cutely.

"I'd imagine so. I mean, how do you get a pencil . . . pierced through your phone? And more importantly, how the hell does it still work?!" it perplexed me.

"Look, long story short, got frustrated with school work, meant to stab it on my paper, phone got in the way." She says, taking her phone back and putting it away. "Let's talk about other things, yeah? How about those two new students coming today?"

"Right, apparently I have them for all my classes, so maybe I'll get to know them." I smile at the thought of two new friendly faces in the classroom. I made it a policy to try to be friends with everyone in the classroom, and I was mostly successful.

"How much you wanna bet they're gay lovers who couldn't bear to be apart?" she says.

"Pretty sure the fan girls/guys have already written erotica with illustrations to go with it."

". . . So you?"

"Yup!" I bring out a notebook and opening up to the page with my latest pornographic writings. "I have seven pages, so far, with three of them being illustrations." I turn to the page where there was an image of two stick figures that were either trying to cook a demon turkey, or having passionate gay sex. I'll give you a hint, it's the passionate gay sex.

"Damn, you work fast." She says, smiling and leaning back in her chair. "Hey, so how'd you like our performance?" By performance, she meant the choir concert I had recently attended. A winter charity concert.

"O-Oh, it was nice." I say, face warming up.

"Nice, huh? Was that all?" she says, giving a knowing smirk.

"Sh-Shut up!" I say, embarrassed as hell.

She laughs, and I join in. But I was concentrating on her more. She was amazing, a bright smile that can light up a room, long brown hair that was as soft as a breeze, and a voice that would turn angels into demons with jealousy.

In this scenario, it would be obvious to say that she was the main character of a romance novel. She was going through high school, all smiles and happy, but she wanted love. Love that had alluded her father when his wife, Marilyn's mom, had divorced and walked out on both of them.

She was in choir, she wanted to be a singer, but she was also humble to a fault. Course, she would find love soon enough.

I close my eyes, and lean back. Love's such a stupid thing. But we crave it, I suppose. But I don't really see the appeal in it. No, more likely the necessity in it.

"Hey!" someone shouts out right next to us. We open our eyes and sit up, and we both smile. It was Julian, Marilyn's hopefully soon-to-be boyfriend if her story goes the way I think it will. "What're you two doing?"

"Fantasizing about the two new guys. Wanna see the fan-fiction I wrote about them?"

"How is it you already have fan-fiction for them?" he asks. "Better yet, how do you already know their names and what they look like?"

"I don't, but I know they're both guys. It's currently Fernando and Avalon until I can get their real names."

"And you wonder why some of the guys are scared of you . . ." he laughs, taking his rightful seat next to Marilyn. Julian, romantic interest of Marilyn, and a great friend. Honorable, popular, humble, and dreams to join the air force in the future. This is the only man in the school that is worthy enough of being Marilyn's boyfriend, in my opinion. It's why I've been egging them on to ask each other out.

The bell rings, breaking me away from my thoughts. The teacher at the front of the room starts to say something, but I'm too busy getting my stuff ready for the actual class itself. The teacher was a bit of an asshole. He gave us no time to prepare, and expected us to be ready for anything immediately. Whether it be a pop quiz, notes, or a worksheet. He says it's to prepare us for the real world as we won't have all the time in the world, but that was a load of bull. He just didn't like waiting, or teenagers.

"Mr. Hua!" Mr. Sanders shouts out. "I would ask you to _not_disrespect the two new students as they introduce themselves to the class!"

"You just want everyone to be staring at them to savor their public humiliations." Is what I wanted to say. But I just nod in compliance. He may have been a dick, but I wasn't an idiot. Just because I wanted to say something, and just because it was the truth, didn't mean it was right. No, I would be the bad guy here. And I can't be the bad guy. I'm the side character.

"You shouldn't be insulting yourself like that." I jump in my seat and look to my right, currently occupied by a stranger wearing a familiar smile. "Well, that's what I think you're doing. In your head."

"Mr. Fenrir! Please come to the front of the classroom to properly introduce yourself! And where is Mr. Alverick?!"

"Calm down, Sanders." Stranger with a smile says, walking back to the front of the classroom. He was strange. But I knew one thing for sure. He was the rebel type.

He gets to the front of the classroom, and stands confidently in front of the whole class. "Hey guys! Name's Ryan Fenrir. Pleased to meet you all." He says. "And the person behind me is Noir! Noir Alverick. My gay lover."

"Ryan!" Someone shouts out, jumping from behind him. "I'm not your gay lover!"

"But you are hella' shy." He says, smirking and poking at his friend's cheek. He looks towards the classroom with an angry scowl, before immediately losing it, and his face turning red. He gets behind Ryan again, acting like a little kid who was meeting an adult for the first time.

"Mr. Fenrir, I would appreciate it if you didn't introduce your friend in such a manner. Or use profanity." Mr. Sanders says, quick in trying to rein in Ryan, who was quickly stirring up a storm. "And Mr. Alverick. Please be ashamed of yourself enough to hold yourself properly."

Noir looks at him, but his face isn't red from embarrassment anymore. Instead, he had an angry scowl on his face. He steps from behind Ryan.

"With all due respect, Sanders, I think you should be the one who's ashamed. Making us introduce ourselves in front of everyone like this, and then calling out a fault of mine. I'm sure it's for petty reasons as well. Maybe you were disappointed you couldn't find a better job in life, so you got stuck teaching what you consider riley, snot-nosed brats. Maybe you're jealous of these 'brats' because they have a chance at a better future, and they're doing a lot more with their lives than you ever did. I would say you should learn from your shame, but it's obvious that if you had any capability of such self-evolution, then you would have been a much better person by now."

"Now listen here, Noir-"

"What, will you report me to the principle for hurting your feelings? Maybe for verbal abuse, I suppose. But I could report the same about you. Not to mention that you shot the first bullet, Garreth."

"H-How did you-" Mr. Sanders stammers, but Noir doesn't give him any such reprieve.

"I took the time to memorize my teacher's names, as I have trouble talking to people. Well, I suppose I can say in a few years that that's the only thing you helped me with. And I'm only able to talk to you so easily because you pissed me off."

He just looks at them, totally in shock, but also totally defeated. He goes to his desk and sits down. "My goodness. This generation truly is dead."

"My Gosh, YOU LITTLE-"

I jump out of my seat and grab his arm, stopping Noir mid-sentence before he could take Sander's bait.

"Mr. Sanders, we should get class started. I'll just lead these two to their desks." I smile softly. He scowls, waving me off.

I look Noir in the eyes, and his expression softens. Silently, I lead them to their desks, choosing the two open ones in the back.

"Mr. Hua, do me a favor and sit next to those two." Sanders says, standing up and starting up his power point.

"But-"

"By favor, I mean you have to."

"Yes sir . . ." I look down in dejection, taking the empty seat next to them and looking at my old seat in the middle, right next to Marilyn and Julian.

"Sorry we got you caught up in this." Ryan says, making me look at him.

I offer him a smile. "He's just mad that I stopped Noir before he could get an actual reason to send him to the principal's office."

"Th-Thanks again for that." Noir says, fiddling with his fingers.

"Hehe, no problem." I take out my stuff out again as I try to keep up with his insanely fast lecture.

We all start scribbling down the notes, but I can't help a few glances at the two new students.

Ryan Fenrir, a name fitting the person. He was a bit wild in his appearances, honestly. He had a well-muscled body for a sixteen year old, probably well equipped for sports. He also had fairly long hair. In guy standards, though, so it wasn't anything crazy. But his hair _was_a bit wild and disheveled. His skin was kind of dark, but in that nice kind of tan way, so it was hard to describe.

You wouldn't expect it, since his last name comes from Nordic mythology, meaning his family was originally from Europe. Then again, I was Vietnamese, but I don't exactly look the part.

I look past him and to Noir, looking him over. He had a much more average build, just a little shorter than Ryan, who was also the same height as me. So Noir was about 5'6'' while Ryan and I were 5'8''. Of course, you'd probably be too focused on his snow white hair. It was short, too, kind of a clean sort of look. He also had a very naturally serious expression, which conflicted with his unconfident posture.

"You know, a picture would probably be better for this." Ryan says, snapping out of my reverie.

"Sorry, trying to take in every detail for my fan-fiction of you two." I see Noir visibly tense up, stopping everything he was doing.

"Fan-fiction, huh?" Ryan says, smiling deviously. "So who would be the top between us?"

"You."

"Why would he be the top?!" Noir whisper-shouts, laying his hands flat against the desk.

"You're younger than him, for one."

"How would you know that?" Noir asks suspiciously.

"Simple, I just do." I smile. "I have a knack of knowing these things about people. Age, body structure, general health, things like that. It's also for that reason that I also know that you both are fairly well muscled, but Ryan is a bit beefier, while you're lithe. He would be a football player, albeit a fairly skinny one, but you'd be on the swim team for sure."

"Wow, he got you there." Ryan says, putting his arm around Noir's shoulder and pulling him closer, smiling widely.

"W-Well things like that shouldn't determine whether you're a bottom or a top, and you don't even know if we're gay or not!" Noir says, still whisper shouting.

"Hm? What does being gay have to do with anything?" I ask, questioningly.

They both look at me, a bit surprised, but mostly confused. "It has to do with quite a bit of it."

"Well, if you say so." I lean back in my seat. "But I know you'd like being a bottom. From what I can tell about you, Noir, is that you're shy. But it goes deeper than that, like not being used to large crowds. No, more likely they disturb you, you can't stand large crowds of strangers."

"So? A lot of people have social anxiety." Noir says, pouting ever so slightly.

"Yeah . . . but you're good friends with Ryan. You clung onto him when you were at a loss in the introductions, despite the both of you being so different. From your character, you don't seem like the person who would be drawn to someone who's so bright. But the truth is that you rely on him, you hold onto him for stability, and you don't mind him taking control. Maybe that's actually what you want."

"That's . . . very insightful." Noir says, glancing down, blushing.

"Well, when you have a sister who's a psych major . . ." I shrug, offering a bright smile. "But you know, I'm actually kind of happy for you Noir." He looks up. "After all, you've found a great friend to hold onto, and there's nothing wrong with relying on someone else."

"Heh, well said, Dennis." Ryan says, hugging Noir closer.

"Oh, how sweet, Mr. Alverick and Mr. Fenrir, but if you could do me the honor of actually paying attention to the presentation, that would be greatly appreciated." Mr. Sanders spits out venomously.

"Sorry, but we already know this stuff, so it's a bit boring I guess." Ryan says, scratching his head.

"Ah, so AP biology is easy to you, is it?" Mr. Sanders says, staring daggers at the three of us now. "Then can one of you explain who Darwin was, and what he did?"

"Gladly." Ryan says, smiling all too innocently. "Darwin was an English naturalist and geologist, credited with the theory of evolution and natural selection. Though there have been some arguments that the concept of evolution had already existed."

"Yes, well, there's much more than-"

"Mr. Sanders, if you could hold off from interrupting . . ." Ryan says, getting up and starting to walk around the classroom. "Now Charles Darwin's theories first came about when he had observed various finch species on the Galapagos Islands, noting the differences in the finches in accordance to the island they were on."

"That's enou-"

"My, my, someone's a bit chatty today." Ryan chastises. "Continuing, he then created the theory of change over generations, evolution. He also came up with the concept of survival of the fittest, although he had stressed change with an environment, and the idea of 'only the strong survive' was insinuated by another person, which lead to social Darwinism. So Darwin is actually responsible for changing everyone's views on society as well, even if not directly. To be honest, he never really said that survival of the fittest applied to humans, as we had long since grown out of the crucial need to change over generations to survive, and instead rely on artificial means that we have created, such as cars to make up for our lack of speed, or modern medicine."

"That's enough, Mr. Fenrir!" Mr. Sanders snaps. "My goodness, I should send you to the front office right now!"

"Why?" Ryan asks. "All I did was answer your question." He smiles brightly, turning around and heading back to his seat silently.

Noir and I try to hold back our laughter, and I'm sure Sanders would have loved to send us to the principal's office, but he really couldn't, since one quick glance around the room would show that everyone else was doing exactly the same.

"Well, since you all think this is _so_hilarious, why don't I had to the joke by giving you all a ten page report on Darwin? Single space, as well." We all groan in unison. "Oh, you didn't think my joke was funny?" he pouts mockingly, his expression twisting into a sneer seconds later. "Well then let's make it twelve since you hurt my feelings."

We all let out a sigh, some people giving Ryan a dirty glare. But they were just trying to vent. It was Sanders, and knowing him, he would have assigned it anyway.

The class continues on in silence, Sanders droning on and on about the fundamentals of evolution and Darwin, but we were all getting sick of it.

Ring* Ring* Ring*

The bell called out, signaling everyone to let out a sigh of relief and start packing up. Noir stands up, picking up his bag. He must have stopped taking notes after a while. I look to Ryan, and see that he had actually fallen asleep. It wasn't too surprising, considering how he probably could've given the lecture himself the way he was talking earlier.

"Ryan, get up." Noir says, shaking his shoulder. Ryan doesn't respond. "Hmph." He lifts his leg up over him, only to bring it down hard right over Ryan's gut.

I close my eyes and wince, waiting for him to scream out in pain. But when I open my eyes, I see Noir's foot held an inch above his stomach, stopped by a hand gripping his ankle firmly.

"Mmmph, you really shouldn't wake me up like that." Ryan says, rubbing his eyes with his free hand.

"And you shouldn't fall asleep so easily." Noir says.

"Why? We already know all this stuff . . ." Ryan says, pushing Noir's foot off of him and standing up, all his stuff packed away. "Hey Dennis, you ready to go?"

"Huh? Y-Yeah, I guess." I pick up my heavy backpack and we start walking. "So what's your next class, anyway?"

"Physics." Noir says, hiding behind Ryan and blushing as we walk out into the hallway.

"With Mrs. Gautier?"

"Yup!" Ryan says, smiling wide. "And I assume we'll have that class with you?"

"Yeah, it seems so." We make our way through the crowd down the hall to our next class, it not being far away as this is the science wing of the school.

Still . . . Ryan shouldn't have been able to block an attack like that. That kick was out of nowhere, while he was asleep, no less! It couldn't have been reaction at all, then. It could have been reflex, I guess. But that would only make sense if he wasn't that deep asleep, and judging by his reaction afterward, he was. Not only that, it had been in an instant.

It was more than I'd ever seen. Reaction time, reflex, speed, grip, all of them were out of the natural parameters of a human being. I'd have to study this a bit more.

I shake my head, walking into the classroom as I chide myself. Can't get into creepy scientist mode. I just met them for Pete's sake! That's for tomorrow.

* * * *

The hours by quickly, Ryan and Noir parting ways and then re-entering my daily life periodically. It was strange, those two. They seemed to shake the entire school up with how they were and how they acted in class. Nobody could resist talking about the two crazy new kids and their even crazier antics throughout the day.

And this couldn't have been more evident than at lunch, which was incidentally now.

I look around the table, trying to sink into my chair much like Noir was trying to do next to me. Literally everyone was staring at the three of us, I of course caught out since everyone here knew me, and I was stuck in the middle of both of them. I could probably have gotten out, but Ryan had his arm around Noir and me, keeping us both here.

"So . . . how's your guys' days?" Ryan asks casually.

"So how do you like school?" "What's Noir doing?" "Props for making Sanders so pissed!" "Is it true that you and Noir are gay lovers?" "SENPAI NOTICE ME" "What's your ship name? Roir, or Nyan?"

"R-Ryan . . ." Noir whimpers out. Everyone freezes, looking over to him. He was next to Ryan now, sunken into a seat with his hands gripping his shirt, eyes tearing up.

We all open our mouths wide in shock, backing away. He . . . he . . .

"What's the cuteness rating?" Someone asks me.

"Level 9. Guaranteed nosebleed for any pervert, but with that body and form . . . that's level 14!" I feel my face start to burn up as I look at Noir, who was now burying his face in Ryan's chest, who was patting him on the back.

"Whelp, I need to go to the nurse's office." Conner says, blood gushing out of his nose.

"C'mon, guys, let's walk him and make sure he doesn't faint . . . again." Marilyn says, standing up.

"But-"

She throws a glare at everyone, and they immediately get up and start walking to the nurse's office.

Don't worry, everyone. I'll get pictures. Gonna need more data for my fan-fiction, anyway.

Noir looks up, sniffling a bit, and I look up at Ryan. It was crazy that he could actually- wait, no, he's blushing, and that's definitely a small nosebleed.

"Huh? What happened to everyone?" He asks, confused. "G-Guess they had something to do, or something." He sits up in his seat, regaining his calm and cool composure that I had seen from him earlier. "So, this school is pretty interesting."

"Yeah, it's nice, if a bit off the grid."

"Well, we like off-the-grid places." Ryan says, leaning back. "It's nice. Quiet."

"I guess. So I'm guessing you guys left from a big city?"

"Nah, we . . . we always lived in a pretty secluded area." He says, rubbing the back of his neck. Strange.

"Hey, I meant to ask, but why did you two come together? It's fairly rare that anyone transfers here, and two at once is even less likely. But you two transferred here, knowing each other, out of nowhere."

"Oh, w-well, um . . . the thing is-"

"You don't need to tell me." He looks over to me, a bit surprised. "Sorry if I was prying, but you don't need to tell me or anything. It's not like I need to know or anything."

"Heh . . . you know, you're really trustable, Dennis." Noir says, smiling. "You kind of remind me of Ryan that way."

"What makes you say that?" I raise an eyebrow and smirk, not really seeing the similarities.

"I don't know . . . but you seem to help others without giving any second thoughts." Noir says. "Like today, when we were in the front classroom. When things were about to get messy, you immediately jumped in and stopped me. And when you took those notes for the class. I saw you typing them up and posting them online for everyone else. Hell, it would explain why so many people weren't taking notes."

"Ah, no." I smile and wave it off. "That's all for me. It would have been troublesome if Sanders got you, too. And taking and posting the notes online helps me study."

"Don't lie." Ryan says. "I can smell it, you know." I give him a confused look, but he just smiles. "You're just really nice, aren't cha'?" he takes one of his big hands and pats my hand, and then I notice something.

I grab his hand, faster than he could react. His eyes get wide for a second, before returning to normal. "Watcha' doin' there, bud?" he asks as I bring his arm up to eye level. "See something you like?" he lifts his other arm, flexing and showing off his well-developed muscles, and inadvertedly making Noir Blush.

"Your arm . . ." I examine it closely. "It's very well developed, but by the looks of it, it's from training, lifting, and mostly hand-to-hand combat, seeing how they developed." I run my fingers over it, ignoring Ryan's slightly shocked face. "There's little to no visible scarring, either, yet at the same time there's been small signs of injuries here and there, injuries extremely difficult to get internally."

Noir whistles. "Pretty good analysis. He just doesn't scar easy, but he does heal fast."

I look over to him. "But what about the hand-to-hand combat thing?"

"He had to fight a lot as a kid." Noir says seamlessly.

"Mmm, I see. So that's it." I say, letting his arm go and bringing out my lunch.

"Wait . . . that's it? No follow up questions, or any other doubts?" Noir asks.

"Of course I do. But you said it was because he had to fight a lot, had good healing, and never scarred easy." I smile at him. "I trust you."

He recoils a bit. "What? You only met me today."

"Yeah, so?" I take a bite out of my sandwich. "I trust everybody."

". . . I think I know why I can trust you so easily." Ryan says. I look at him, wondering what he meant. "It's cause' you're an idiot."

* * (Perspective Change, ????) * *

Hmm, target found. I take my binoculars away from my face and smile widely. I didn't think my job would be so easy! Number 3 and 4 think they're so clever for hiding in a high school, but they can't run from me. It's too bad, though. There's so many innocent bystanders here.

I smile and laugh maniacally. I can just imagine all of them splattered onto the walls. Oh, it would be glorious!

But no, I've been ordered to take them back alive, and avoid casualties as that'll draw attention. Well, it'll definitely make things challenging.

I smile again, hugging myself as I shiver in excitement. They said I could blow a few limbs off, after all. It would be easier to get them back, that way. I shake, trying to calm myself down as I try to block out the sounds of them screaming in agony as I methodically remove each one of their limbs.

Ah, god this gets me off so much. But that's why they hired me.

"Top explosives expert in the world, Nathaniel Douren, code name, 'Wild Eye', reporting for duty." I say to myself, climbing down from the building. The set's almost done, now I just need my actors.

Actors . . . yes, I think I know just how to invite them. There was a boy who was with them, and I'm sure that accidently killing off one student won't change anything. Yeah, collateral damage, that's what it is. Hehehe, I'm sure of it. He'd look great painted all over the place . . .

* * (Perspective change, Ryan Fenrir) * *

I relax myself, the presence disappearing once again. I look over to Dennis who was just sitting there, talking to Noir about something. Probably school related. I smile at the scene. I never thought Noir would make another friend so quickly.

Then again, Dennis is a pretty interesting guy. From the moment we stepped into class, he was the last one we noticed, but the first one we trusted. We were going to keep our distance from everyone, but he was difficult to not be friends with.

It was strange. He didn't have an attraction or pull to him like popular and charismatic people, but he seemed like someone you could trust, and it was just so easy to connect with him.

According to Noir, he resembled me in that respect. But that was just another reason why we should distance ourselves. We won't be safe here forever, and I don't want Dennis as a victim. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to someone as innocent as him.

"I trust everybody"

He said that with such a straight face, but with such a bright smile, too. He sincerely meant that he trusted everybody. I hang my head down a bit, slightly ashamed. We were using him as a means to blend in with the other high school students, weren't we? I felt dirty, my stomach was churning, my fur SKIN was itchy, and-

"No depression!" Noir suddenly stuffs a spoon into my mouth.

"Pblch! . . . mmmmm." I moan as I taste the chocolate cake melt over my tongue.

"Better?"

"Mhmm." I open my mouth so he can take out the spoon. "Can I have more?" I open my mouth, letting my tongue roll out on instinct and pant as I beg.

"I guess. I hate chocolate, anyway." He smiles, handing me his tray that only had some cake left.

"Thank you!!!" I quickly dig in, devouring it quickly.

"He . . . he likes his sweets, doesn't he?" I glance over to Dennis who was drooling over the cake. I smile, taking half of what was left and giving it to him. He looks at it, face lighting up and then quickly digging in like me.

"Hmhm, shoundsh luk shumone elshe likesh hish shweets, choo." I say.

"Don't talk with your mouth full." He says, slapping me upside the head, lightly. I snicker a little, and Dennis has to keep from laughing as his mouth was full of cake. Which . . . gave me a hilarious idea.

I quickly swallow what was in my mouth and wash it down with water, letting out a content sigh as I put the bottle down.

"You know, Noir, I never really got why you didn't get why you don't like sweets." I say, looking over to him. "In fact, I just might not believe you."

He looks at me apprehensively. ". . . And why's that?"

"Because it implies that you think I don't taste swee-"

SMACK*

Heavy laughter*

SMACK*

"Owowowow . . . you didn't have to smack me so hard." I say, grumbling. Dennis was on the table, seemingly dazed.

"For the joke you just made, you deserved it." Noir says, glaring at me, daring me to try it again.

"C'mon, you're just thinking dirty." I say, smirking toothily. "What I meant was . . . this." I say, leaning close to him. Before he can react properly, I grab the back of his head, the other holding his side as I bring him closer to me, planting my lips right onto his. He squeaks, before melting into me, hands falling on my chest and weakly attempting to push me away as I slowly bring us closer together, tongue working its way into his mouth and tasting him gingerly. Oddly enough, he was the sweetest thing I'd ever tasted.

Scribble* Scribble*Scribble*

I break away from Noir who was just limp in my arms and look towards the noise. I see Dennis, furiously writing something down in a notebook, glancing at us, until he noticed I was staring at him.

"What?" he asks, as if nothing was wrong. I give him a puzzled look, and he seems to realize what I was trying to get at. "Oh, this is my fanfiction of you two. Keep going, pretend I'm not even here."

I look at him blankly, but ultimately shrug, looking back at Noir, ready to give Dennis more . . . inspiration.

SMACK*

SMACK*

* * * *

"I can't believe you!" Noir shouts, walking away angrily as we head to class.

"Hahaha, it was a joke! A joke!" I say, patting him on the head. "Besides, you're just too sweet to resist!"

"Ha, ha. Very funny." He says sourly. "Well, at least the next class is the last one for the day. I can't believe the days gone so well, so far."

"Yeah . . . but I got a bad feeling about this." I say, looking around. "You've noticed, right?"

"Mm." he says, turning much more serious than normal. "Someone's been watching us. But don't worry, they won't risk attacking us in such a large area. They have to remain secret."

"But they also have all the data on us that they would need. They may not have accurate data, but they still have our basic capabilities." I say, scratching the back of my neck. "Besides, as humans, we can't really fight back."

"That's why_we_ came to school today, and not Roy and Anzu. We have better control of our forms." He says.

"And they have more combat oriented personal skills." I say, thinking back to them.

"That may be true, but we're no pushovers." He says, entering our next class. "We have to . . . what . . . the hell?"

I look up and notice that everyone . . . was unconscious in the classroom. At least . . . I hope they were unconscious. I look around, turning much more serious than usual. "Noir, look around. There must be some kind of message they left."

"I . . . I don't . . ." I look at him and see that his eyes were wide in horror.

I put a hand on his shoulder, turning him towards me. I pull him into me, laying his head on my chest. "It's okay, Noir, they're just unconscious. There's nothing wrong."

"This . . . this is because of us." He says, whimpering.

"Yeah . . . I know. Which is why we need to stop them before they go too far." I say, pushing him away, just enough that I could look him in the eyes and still hold him. "We need to stop them before they do anything else."

"Well said!" a voice shouts from somewhere. I quickly locate it, seeing it as a phone on the teacher's desk. "Now, I wonder how I could possibly take this any further?"

"Hey, who are you?" I ask.

"Maybe I could murder all the teachers." He says ignoring me. I grit my teeth. "Or maybe I'll hunt down every student in the school." I growl, walking towards him, my body snapping and shifting with every step I take. "You know, I would start with that one boy that was with you. The one who was walking with you? I'm sure he would make a good blood stai-"

I bring my fist down on it, smashing the phone into oblivion. I lift it up, shaking the small parts off from my hand that was now covered in brown fur. My whole body was. I bring up the smashed piece of metal and look into the cracked screen, seeing my reflection, which vaguely showed me as a half animal, half human hybrid. A dog, beauceron to be specific.

"Noir, shift." I say as I turn around, marching out of the class. "Don't worry about witnesses, I'll put them all to sleep. I'll track his scent, as well. He put it all over that phone."

Noir doesn't say anything. I glance back and see him following, shifting as well into a dog hybrid as well, with snow white fur, deep red eyes, a canaan by the looks of it.

"Ryan . . . are you sure about this?" he asks.

I smirk. "Course I am. Remember? We're experiments 3 and 4, werebeast class "Canine"."

* * (Perspective change, Dennis Hua) * *

I look around, but no one seemed to notice or care about it. I look back down at my desk, at the note written in bold red, telling me to meet them at the construction site. I wondered again, just who would have sent this, but I couldn't think of anyone in particular. Shrugging, I raise my hand to ask if I could be excused.

At least it seemed interesting enough.

* * (Perspective change, Ryan Fenrir) * *

We arrive at the end of the scent trail, a construction site of some sort. I notice him, the person with the scent of who had attacked the classroom, and who was presumably after us.

"Well, well, it looks like you've arrived safely." He says, smiling deviously. "And it looks like you've even come in your werebeast forms, Experiment 3 'Sweet Tooth', and Experiment 4 'Nightmare'."

We both glare at him, but it wasn't any surprise that he knew at least that much information. "Well? What do you want?" I ask him.

"What do I want?" he says coyly, tapping his chin. "Well, if I told you what I wanted, then you'd probably hear something along the lines of . . ." he points at Noir. "Him, splattered all over these walls."

I grit my teeth, charging him instantly. "You worthless SHIT!" I say as I rush him, claws extended, ready to tear out his throat.

He smirks, taking out some kind of remote and pointing it towards me. He presses it, and I immediately smell gun powder and smoke. My eyes widen, and I jump to the side quickly as the ground erupts in fire and rubble from an explosion.

"A land mine?" Noir says, going on the defensive.

"No." he says, smiling madly. "A bomb." He points to where I was standing, but I quickly jump back, shielding myself as another explosion occurs just where I was standing. "You didn't think I would have lead you here for nothing, did you?! I set explosives all around here! You're mine now!"

"Thanks for telling us, ya little shit." I say, standing up and brushing myself off. "Now all we have to do is get out of here. The door's right behind us."

"Oh really? Without your friend?" he fishes out a phone and turns it on, showing what had to be the live feed from a camera, showing Dennis looking around for something.

"You . . . you-"

"That's right. He's somewhere here, so if you want to find him, you'll have to make your way through my little fun house! Now, what shall you do?" he asks, shivering in excitement.

I calm down, letting out a deep breath and standing up straight, calmly. It didn't matter. I could just use my-

"Trying to use your personal skill on me, huh?" he says, smugly. "It's useless. 'Sweet Tooth', your personal skill, is simply manipulating the emotions of people around you by utilizing body language, tones, and even changeable pheromones. You used this skill to escape by simply making everyone who saw you sleep. You bypassed so many guards that we at first thought it was some sort of conspiracy! But such tricks won't work on me."

He raises his arms up and laughs loudly, making it echo throughout the whole complex. "Hyahahahaha! Three Toes, a kidney, half my stomach, all my sense of smell, my left eye completely, a third of my hearing, almost all of my taste buds, all of it I sacrificed for my jobs! I'm a fucking explosive expert, did you think I would always leave unscathed?!"

"Tch." I say, bringing my guard back up.

"Now, what shall you do?" he asks, eyes squinting and smile widening. He seemed depraved at that point, wanting nothing more than to see us dead. Or close to something like it.

I charge him, circling around him in a wide arc in order to keep him from aiming accurately. He couldn't have put a bomb everywhere. I charge straight for him, but he points the remote at me again, and I leap to the side as the ground bursts out once more in a small explosion, sending rubble just about everywhere.

He smirks while he looks at me, unaware of Noir who had sneaked up from behind.

He swipes his claws in an arc, aiming for his back, but the guy noticed just last minute, stepping out of the way so he was only slightly grazed. But there was definitely cuts, and he was definitely bleeding.

I rush forward in his shock from the blow, making him go wide eyed and his smirk disappearing. He raises his remote to the ceiling, pressing the large red button, just seconds before I reached him.

The ceiling explodes, but I finally reach him, pulling my arm back and punching him right into Noir. I hold my arms up and shield myself from the rubble as I jump out, getting cut and hit my small pieces of wood and metal.

Noir kicks the guy hard in the back as he was launched towards him, sending him flying straight into a wall. He crashes, hitting the ground seconds later.

I get back to Noir, all scratched up, but okay. But my eyes widen as I watch him raise his remote once again, a smirk hidden in the dark suddenly becoming clear as day.

I tackle Noir into the ground as the place we were standing suddenly blows up from yet another mine. We hit the ground hard, or at least I do as I shield both of us. That last explosion got me hard, debri hitting me and giving me a few more cuts that I would have liked.

"Hahaha, *cough*cough*cough*, this is amazing, fantastic, glorious! I never thought that this fight would be so much fun!" he shouts out. I look at him, and he was clutching his side, blood rubbing down his face and trickling down his back. "Let's exchange our names before we die. Because I don't plan on getting out of here alive without killing you two."

". . . Experiment #3 of the werebeast project. 'Sweet Tooth', Ryan Fenrir." I say, getting up off the ground.

"Experiment #4 of the werebeast project. 'Nightmare', Noir Alverick." Noir says, glaring at our unnamed enemy.

"Mercenary of the werebeast project, 'Wild Eye', Nathaniel Douren. Nice to meet you, and nice to die with you."

* * (Perspective change, Dennis Hua) * *

I walk around the empty building, looking around for what was causing those tremors. From the sounds of it, they were explosions.

I focus in on the sounds and suddenly hear three people, grunting and screaming, as if in a fight. I start running as fast, yet quietly as I can towards the sounds, focusing in on them. There were three by the sounds of it, and all male.

I round the last corner and see . . . something that left me stunned.

A man smiling crazily, swinging some remote at two anthropomorphic dog men, and trying to blow them up, making the whole room collapse, the roof and two walls crumbling.

"What . . . Noir?! Ryan?!" I shout out at the dog men as I immediately recognize them for being my classmates.

The strange, bomber man turns to me, smiling even wider, pointing the remote at me.

My body reacts before I do, eyes narrowing at him while I kicked a stone hard at him, the stone hitting him straight on the forehead. He presses the button, but he ends up getting knocked back from the blow of the rock, swing his arm and aiming it instead at the roof right over his head.

He recovers just in time to get out of the way of the shower of wood and metal, but points the remote at me, once again. I bring my arms up and step back, but it wasn't enough. The ground in front of me explodes, the shockwave sending me far back, blowing me away until I landed hard onto my back, cuts and bruises all over my body form the debris, but no burns or fatal wound. I get up just in time to see him smiling crazily, aiming the remote at me.

I see his thumb slowly fall onto the button, but right before he could, Noir ran up to him, kicking his side so hard that he was sent flying into another wall.

"Dennis!" Noir shouts, he and Ryan running up to me.

"N-Noir, Ryan." I say, gasping for breath. The shockwave hit me harder than I thought. But I was more worried about them. They had cuts all over, and their fur was disheveled and covered in either dust or blood. "Y-Your wounds. Let me treat them-"

"There's no time!" Ryan says. He offers me his paw, blood staining it. "Come with me, or die!"

My eyes widen, but only for an instant. Immediately, I take his paw, gripping it tightly with my hand. "Ok." I say determinedly.

He drags me to my feet and offers me a shoulder, but I shrug him off, smiling assuredly to show him I was okay. He smiles and runs off into another room, Noir and I following him. Behind us, a flurry of explosions go off, as if trying to catch up to us and consume us in the flames and rock.

"Those aren't your everyday explosives!" I shout to them as we run away, into a different room, and up some half built stairs. "They're compact and don't release as much heat, for some reason! But they're embedded into the walls, floors, and ceiling!"

"What?!" Ryan shouts.

"I said-"

"I heard what you said!" he shouts. "I'm asking how you're taking this in so quickly!"

Another explosion occurs, dangerously close. We veer off to the side, veering into another random room.

"It's either that or death!" I shout back. "As I was saying, they're embedded into the walls! So the most dangerous thing is the debris and the shockwave!"

I look around and point into a certain door. "That way! Trust me!" I shout, and we all go into that room. I slow down to a stop, and pull them to the side where it was hard to be seen. We were in the largest room of the building, with a lot of support columns and plenty more places to hide.

I try desperately to quietly catch my breath. "How are you *heave* not tired?!"

"We're modified humans, we'll explain it all later." Noir says, waving it off. "Why'd you bring us in here?"

"*heave* This is where *heave* we'll take him down." I say, listening closely. I heard his footfalls, but they were relatively far away. "Quick, tell me your superpowers."

"What?" Noir says. "We don't have-"

"Don't lie. *Wheeze* Seeing as you two are anthropomorphic, modified humanoid dogs, I find it hard to believe that that's the only ability you have."

". . . Well, we have personal skills. Those are-"

"Tell me later." I say, rushing things along.

"Fine." Ryan says, grumbling. "Mine's 'Sweet Tooth'. I control emotions by outside stimuli."

"Got it. You?" I ask to Noir.

"Well, accessing people's subconscious mind by ocular or physical contact."

"Fuck." I say, rubbing my head. "Both won't work."

"How do you know?" Ryan asks.

"I've been analyzing him the whole time. It's how I figured out the whole explosives thing." I say. They look at me, impressed. "I told you before. I have a knack at knowing things about people's body. He's missing a few limbs, and some organs. And from the looks of it, has bad hearing."

"You got all that from a few seconds of watching him, while almost getting blown up? Respect." Ryan says.

"It's all in his movements, honestly." I say, blushing. "But anyway, he's the counter to both of your abilities from the sounds of it. So this is the best option. There's a lot of hiding spots. If one of you can divert his attention, the other can do a sneak attack. I'd rather just analyze him further, though, but I doubt I can tell you guys during the battle."

"What do you mean?" Noir asks.

"Well, if I had a bit more time, then I could analyze how he places his bombs, and his attack patterns. Then I could just guide you guys through them. But we have no means of communication. And if he realizes what I'm doing, then he'll retreat to a more advantageous spot."

"Hmm . . . I actually have a way we can communicate." Noir says. "My personal skill, 'Nightmare' can establish a kind of temporary connection by creating a passageway from one consciousness to the other, so we would be able to talk telepathically."

"Can you?" I ask. He nods. He gets closer until he's just inches away and looks at me. I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as he continues to stare, and I can feel myself get connected to him, as well as Ryan.

"That good?" Noir asks me.

"Whoa . . . when we talk it's all echo-ey. And it's in italics!" I say, smiling excitedly.

"I know, right?!" Ryan chimes in. Noir gives us an exasperated look. "Hey! I can hear what you're thinking!"

The footsteps get dangerously close, and we all snap back into attention. "Gonna assume that you have a large range. I'll stay here, out of sight. You fight with him. I'll analyze him, then guide you through the movements."

He steps into the room, and Noir and Ryan run out into the middle of the room, weaving through the pillars, only giving me a nod in confirmation.

"Ah, there you two are! Where's your friend?!" he asks, pointing the remote in Noir's direction. I squint my eyes in the direction he pointed the remote in.

"Noir! Get away from that pillar!" he jumps out of the way, seconds before the pillar explodes. But from the looks of it, he's unharmed.

"He's safe, far away from here, and fleeing." Ryan says.

"Well now, that's quite foolish." The bomber man, -"Nathaniel"- Nathaniel says. "Let me ask you, did you just assume that I only put bombs in this building?"

"You little-"

"That's right!" He says, laughing manically. "Just in case, I've placed bombs all over the entire school! But much stronger than these little fire crackers you've been dealing with."

He points the remote in Ryan's direction, and I carefully observe how he was moving. The explosion comes from the roof, and Ryan avoids it.

First . . . establish the terrain. We're on the second floor. There's concrete for the floor, with wooden beams and insulation for the roof. They were designing this place with some knew type of sturdy architecture, or some bullshit. I didn't really understand.

Hmm . . . Everything in this world has a pattern. Even humans when they try to be completely random. What can we conclude from the data thus far? Think, think, think! This is why you're terrible at chess, Dennis!

"We can hear you, you know." Noir says, trying to sneak up on Nathaniel.

He turns around, pointing the remote at Noir and creating an explosion just behind him. Noir jumps away from the explosion, using the shockwave to carry him along. But he still took some damage. Ryan charges him, but Nathaniel points the remote once again and explodes two pillars next to him. He avoids them, barely, still getting hit with quite a bit of debris.

"Honestly, moving here of all places was just perfect!" he shouts, twirling around. "I've set up so many bombs here, it's ridiculous!"

Think . . . I take a deep breath in, then let it out. First, he's using small bombs. It's so it doesn't create a fire he can't escape from, as well as ensure that he can set up many bombs, while not endangering himself. But then what's with that remote? It only has one button, and is a type of simplistic transmitter that sends out a narrow signal, detonating a bomb. But it still could have detonated some by mistake if they were close enough, right? There must be a pattern . . .

My eyes widen, everything clicks. There is a pattern. I look around us and confirm. I take out a small pencil I always forgot in my pocket. Sometimes I just shove things in there. I start to scribble out a makeshift map of the room, putting in the columns, as well as the bombs he's detonated. Then, using what I knew, I fill in the rest.

I look at Ryan and Noir. They had taken cover.

"Ryan, rush him, and follow my directions."_He nods. He rushes forward, and Nathaniel points his remote. _"Veer left, hiding behind that column."_He veers left, avoiding the bomb that detonated a little to the right side. I cross that bomb off the map, adjusting it a little closer to him, as well as the rest of the bombs. _"Now circle around, using the columns closest you each time that create an arcing path. Noir, do the same arcing path, but in the opposite direction, and prepare to rush him from the opposite side. Don't stop until you're both opposite from each other, with him between you two."

They do as I say, and Nathaniel immediately focuses all his attention on Ryan, trying to explode the bombs around him, but he was out of range for all the explosives. I smirk. I figured you out. You set each bomb at least 12 meters away from the other, so the remote doesn't accidently trigger some. Yes, they are at different dimensions (in the floor, in the pillars, or in the ceiling), but that doesn't matter.

I see Ryan and Noir get into position, holding their place until I gave the next command. I look at my map. "Noir, Ryan, both of you charge. Ryan, you veer left right when he points his remote, then to the right after the explosion happens. Keep that pattern up. Noir, charge from behind, straight ahead."

Ryan charges and veers to the left, then the right, avoiding the explosion each time. The second weakness was that the bombs radius of explosion was 5 meters, and the debris from any further wouldn't be very effective. That leaves a 2 meter wide space between the bombs. The perfect pathway.

Ryan gets to him, but Nathaniel jumps backwards awkwardly, pointing the remote to the ceiling. "Ryan-"

_ "Got it!"_ he says, smiling wildly while jumping backwards as the ceiling explodes and rains down debris.

He backs up, wide eyed, smile gone. He never even notices Noir who was behind him, claws extended as he slashes at his arms, creating deep gashes. That was the third weakness. Focus. He only had one remote, and could only look in one direction. The fact he had weakened senses protected him from their personal skills, yes, but it stopped him from being able to properly react in close combat, something he clearly wasn't used to since he used bombs so much.

He drops the remote, his arms useless now that they had such deep gashes in them. Noir steps forward, kicking away the remote before backing up from him. It looks like Noir had aimed for the muscles that allowed them to move when he sliced him up.

He back up, desperation wide in his eyes. "H-How'd you-"

"It's over." I say, walking out of my hiding spot. "I've figured out how you fight. It was hard, I'll give you that. But you can't fight anymore."

"Oh, you really think-"

"Just stop." I say, interrupting him. "It's like a magician who tries the same trick twice on a person who's figured it out. It's just not fun anymore."

He grits his teeth, looking back and forth to all of us. He was outnumbered, and outmatched. Checkmate.

"Fine then . . . I told you guys at the beginning of this battle, didn't I? I don't plan on living . . . unless you die. But I didn't mean I'd commit suicide or anything. I meant . . . that I'd take you with me!"

He runs, making a dive for the remote. My body starts moving before I can even react, going faster than I had ever gone before. He finally gets the remote in his mouth, between his teeth, but I'm on him.

His eyes widen as I reflexively bring my knee up right under his jaw, while smashing my elbow on his head. I strike him from both sides of his head, and his jaws snap shut from the force, making a loud cracking sound that I assumed was his skull and jaws breaking. The remote, inside his mouth, is destroyed as well.

I fall backwards, panting and wheezing for air as I had strained my body to its limit. I look back at Noir and Ryan, who were side by side, staring at me, impressed. I smile widely, closing my eyes.

*Beep*

I freeze, the smile still on my face.

*Beep*

I snap my head forward, focusing on the limp body in front of me.

*Beep*

This time, it wasn't reflex. I rush forward, dragging his body to a window he had destroyed with an explosion. Maybe on accident.

*Beep* *Beep*

I finally get to the window, trying desperately to lift his body up. My arms strain, my legs scream, and my lungs cry out. But I keep going.

*Beep* *Beep* *Beep*

"NnnGYAAAAA!" I shout out as I toss his body outside.

Time slows down as I watch the limp body sail.

*Beep* *Beep**Beep*BeepBeep*Beeeeeeee-

I try to get back, but it didn't matter. I felt myself get thrown back from the harsh explosion, the body erupting in guts, gore, and flames. I feel myself flying through the air as I feel my skin singe from the heat. It was buffered from the distance and the concrete floor. But it didn't do enough.

I felt myself strike the ground hard, lying flat on my back as I bounced just a bit. My eyes were open, but I couldn't see. I tried to listen, but there was only a ring.

" !-@$@#, @#%$^ #%^$ ~~!!!" I could hear what I thought were Noir and Ryan, and I could feel their paws on me, maybe carrying me? But everything gets darker and darker, my mind no longer able to process anything anymore.

And everything fades to black.

* * (Perspective change, Terminus Exitus) * *

The existence of the being called Dennis Hua, is a strange one. If one were to observe him to the fullest, you would quickly realize that he was the most abnormal of normals, or the most normal of abnormals. The reason being, is simple.

It's in how he interacts with others.

Put simply, it seems as if he were built to understand everyone, yet be understood by no one.

Let us delve into his psyche for a little while, and you shall see soon enough. For one, he is extremely empathetic. He feels true love for those around him, and he feels true sadness when they are hurt. Many times, in fact, when his friends would fall down, or be injured, he would say "Ow" before they could even consider muttering the small phrase.

Not only this, but many people easily bond with him, because he bonds with them. The moment you speak to him, even if just a word, he trusts you fully, and unconditionally. This trust allows you to open up to him, despite however long it was since you met him.

The last factor that supports this is the fact that he could feel anger, yet never got angry. Meaning he couldn't hold a grudge. If there was any argument, it only took him an hour at most to calm down, and let go of any of his anger. So he knew how being angry felt like, but rarely did anyone see him being angry at someone else, or felt his rage.

Why was he created like this? Why did he act the way he acted? What was his purpose? These were frequent questions he would ask himself. It is how he came to the conclusion that God, the "Author" meant for his purpose to be a "Side character".

He trusts everyone, understands all pain, and can never be angry. He is the perfect brother, the perfect best friend, the perfect neighbor, and the perfect supporter.

But he didn't want that. No, over many years of observation, I knew he hated his lot in life. Because he took on the job of taking everyone's pain, their burden, and their suffering. But by doing so, no one offered to take any of his. And he who knows all pain, soon drowned in a sea of despair, only surviving by the small breaths of happiness he would grasp by bringing others their happy ending.

Helping everyone, loving everyone, that was his desperate cry to the world. Him saying "Please take my pain". But he couldn't get anyone to help. Because as I said in the beginning.

He can understand everyone, yet no one can understand him.