(Prosinec 3, 58 / 1:32PM)

  3 years ago.

  Garlic crops swayed with the northern wind. The dirt light traveled all across the poor ranch, which bristled and sparkled in the warm, tranquil rays of the sun. Being wintertime, the dry heat wasn’t as deadly as it was during the summer, with many of the guard’s not breaking a sweat as they walked through the crop fields. Covering their eyes from the windy dirt, their flat caps blocked most of it, followed by chunks of old leaves slamming onto their cheeks.

  One of the guards—no, a teenage boy wearing his typical brown thin jacket, watched just below the large Joshua tree on the southern hill.

  His back against the tree, the back of his flat cap scraped against the large chunk of tree, the dry wind slamming onto his face. Wielding nothing but a fountain pen in his left hand and a notebook in his right, he scribbled away, letting his imagination run free. As he drew nothing but garlic crops and more crops.

  (Johnny’s thoughts) What’s the point of drawing if I’m not creative?

  Tapping the back of the pen onto the bottom of his chin, the papers flapped against the heavy wind. Instead of gripping the pen and letting the metal creak, he continued to tap again and again, letting the sound of the back of the pen just endlessly ring in his ears.

  Again and again; staring at the ranch.

  (???) So you were up here huh?

  A woman with short hair, wearing a thin brown jacket and a black flat cap strolled up behind him.

  Wielding a sniper rifle, the woman had the barrel pointed downward onto the ground, her eyebrow furrowed upward while cocking her head. Smacking her lips, she bent down to squint down on Johnny’s doodles, seeing nothing but poorly drawn garlic crops that even a five-year-old can draw better.

  Smacking her right knee, she busted out laughing, closing her eyes shut as she pointed her finger straight at him.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Hahaha … for the Boss’s kid, you sure suck at drawing!

  (Johnny) I could get better.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Ha. Only people with creativity can master the art of drawing dork.

  (Johnny) Why are you here?

  Holstering the sniper rifle onto her back, she tucked it inside her jacket. Swaying her head right to left, she put her right hand inside of her jacket, which in return pulled out a little note card.

  Having it in front of her, she straightened her back and cleared her throat, while having her eyes focused on the card rather than him.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) The boss wants me to give this to you.

  Taking the little notecard, Johnny shook away some pinches of dirt that latched on the paper. Trickling down on his pants, he pulled the card closer to his face, with the writing latched in cursive.

  Giving back the paper card to the female guard, Johnny nodded up and down three times. Putting her right hand onto her hip, she let her left-hand drop to her side, making her look like she was striking a pose.

  (Johnny) So my dad wants me to find an indentured servant.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) He also wants you to find it in the most rundown orphanage you could find.

  (Johnny) Why rundown?

  (Female Zirardge Guard) More hush-hush.

  Putting the card back into her pocket, she looked toward the ranch that bustled with guards and garlic crops, as dry air escaped from her nostrils. Bringing up her left hand, she scratched her cheek that released patches of unwashed dirt, landing straight onto her boots.

  Johnny slowly got up from the dead grass that plucked his pants, making him clap up and down his thighs.

  (Johnny) But where would I find a run-down orphanage?

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Anywhere in the wetlands. Bet any orphanage would be willing to give off any kid to a person of status.

  (Johnny) So Culkia…

  The heavy wind blowing against his black, the ends of his jacket flapped with the sound of the air. Walking down the hill, both the female guard and Johnny saw a black-painted automobile with white leather seats and no ceiling.

  Dead grass being replaced with red dirt, the soles of his turquoise boots reddened by the dry parched soil. Reaching the driver's door, he opened it wide as the female guard opened the passenger side.

  (Johnny’s thoughts) Why does Dad make me go on so many errands? It’s going to take me 7 hours just to reach the outskirts of the city.

  Starting up the engine, thick plumes of smoke plowed out of the dual exhaust pipes on the rear end of the automobile. Roaring, the automobile let its wheels scrape off the dirt ground, driving away years of soil in all directions as it fled south.

  Gripping the white steering wheel tightly, Johnny hunched his back. Extending her hand down to his left shoulder, she rubbed it back and forth while smacking her lips.

  (Johnny’s thoughts) And I have to go with her of all people…

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  (Prosinece 4, 58 / 9:10AM)

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Cries and groans shook the stone walls.

  A floor below the run-down orphanage, not even a shade of light rained down on the sniveling kids sitting on their flea-ridden beds. Ticks and cockroaches crawled all over the cold ground, the metal bars that the kids looked out from were already rusted with water and salt.

  But why water? What can replace normal water to rust the metal?

  His turquoise boots unshaken, Johnny kept his hands in his pockets as he ignored their youthful cries.

  Youth who had cat or dog fur, bunny or horse fur, or even elf ears.

  His eyes still darkened, followed by the tips of his front hair covering both of his eyes. His right boot scraping off pink gum, the female guard next to him had both of her hands to herself. As her clothes were still wrinkled from prior.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) We could stop at a hotel on the way back~

  (Johnny) You’re ten years older than me. Besides, we already stopped at a hotel on the way here.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Nothing like a good—

  (Director) You’re the son of Zirardge, right?

  A small and scrawny man walked toward the two of them.

  Having a bushy beard that encompassed his cheeks all the way down to his chin, he had both of his hands clasped together down to his crotch. His black cowboy boots were littered with dirt, and the back of his boots held spiked chains that jingled the stone floor.

  Clearing his throat, he extended both his hands toward both Johnny and the female guard, his grip firm with both of them.

  (Director) It’s an honor to welcome you here.

  (Johnny) My father wants one of these beast-human kids to adopt. He says that it would look nondiscriminatory—

  (Director) Lying is bad sir. I know the reason why your father wants a beast-human kid.

  Placing his clamped hands toward his lower back, he turned his body around with just the soles of his heels. Nudging his forehead forward, both Johnny and the female guard walked along with him, continuing to see every beast-human variant.

  Most of them gripped the iron bars with death-gripping hands, and some of them hid in the dark corners of their cells. Unbothered, Johnny let his hands drop to his sides, as he stared into the back of the director’s head.

  (Director) Sucks that we don’t have much money for normal bedrooms for these kids. We barely have enough money for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  A small stream of mucus escaped out of the director’s left nostril, causing him to use the palm of his right hand to wipe it away. The more they walked, the more the smell assaulted their nostrils and lungs, causing both him and the guard to pinch their noses.

  Glancing at his right wrist, Johnny took note of the director’s golden plate watch.

  (Director) We have this one girl that we’re looking to finally get rid of. I think she’ll be perfect for you guys.

  Reaching the end of the cells, three of them looked toward a cat girl sitting down on her flea-ridden bed.

  Wearing nothing but a white ripped cloth, the ends of it reached down to her knees, and her bare feet were molded in black at the bottom. Her brown hair and pointed cat ears all pointed upward, she eyed the three of them that just watched through the metal bars.

  Gripping the sheets tightly, her soulless eyes locked onto the director’s neck.

  (Director) Be warned though. The last time she was out of her cell was over a month ago.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Why is that?

  (Director) She attacked one of the guards because one of them touched her. She’s lucky that we didn’t report it to the Haxouburg judicial system.

  Pulling out a metallic key, he jammed it right into the keyhole, releasing the bar door to creak its hold metal. Hitting the stone wall, the director kept his feet and body away from the door, as he took a step back to let the two of them in.

  Bowing down, he opened up his hand like what a server would do at a 5-star restaurant. Closing his eyes, a trickle of sweat dripped down onto the stone floor.

  (Director) After you two.

  Still having his hands inside his pockets, Johnny nonchalantly stepped foot inside the stone-cold cell, as the female guard walked from behind. Looking her up from top to bottom, he scratched the back of his head with his smooth fingers, his hair flowing with his skin.

  Letting go of her bedsheets, the cat-girl pushed her body up, letting a low growl seep out from her throat.

  Taking both of his hands out of his pockets, he raised them to showcase a form of surrender, despite his eyes and cheeks being pushed downward. Clearing his throat, he kept his feet glued to the ground.

  (Johnny) We’re not going to hurt you.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Words ain’t going to do nothing to her boy. She looks like she’s aiming at your neck.

  (Johnny) I don’t care.

  Keeping his hands up in the air, he slowly and melancholically walked toward the now hissing cat-girl, her cat ears trembling as he got closer and closer. Standing right in front of her, her claws began to grow and sharpen, with every hair in her body goosing up like she was about to attack.

  Putting his right hand inside his pocket, he pulled out a small box of raisins. Extending his hand outward, her defensive stance that she held soon crumbled like a leaning tower.

  (Johnny) I’ll give you this if you promise to come with us. Now—

  Snatching the box of raisins from his hand, the cat-girl ripped the top part of the box, hovering her button nose over the fresh fruit.

  Sniffing a couple of times, she raised the box to her mouth, allowing the clumped-up ball of dried fruit to enter into her mouth. The raisins touching her tongue, she began chewing the ball as her fingers circled the inside of the box, her nails releasing leftover raisins that were stuck to the box.

  Gulping down the ball, she had the rest of the fruit on her other hand, swallowing it whole as well. Dropping the box down onto the floor, she looked up at the furrowed-brow teenage boy.

  (Johnny) Never thought you would be that hungry.

  Extending his empty hand out to the girl, his palm slowly trailed downward onto the top of the girl’s head. Her knees buckled, her bare feet stuck to the stone floor, not a muscle of her lower body flinched from his hand.

  The beating of her heart was pounding against the ends of her chest, her ears spiked up, along with her eyes scrunching up to allow them to close. Seeing nothing but black, her fingers slowly grew into claws yet again, her breath drawing heavy until…

  His hands were like silk.

  Opening her eyes, the top of her head was blessed by the teenage boy’s unworked palm. His eyes still unchanged, he noticed the dark blotches underneath her eyelids soon lightened up by his touch alone.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) Careful with beast-humans boy. Start giving it treats and pats then they’ll never let you go.

  (Director) Guess you have the magic touch.

  (Johnny) It’s called empathy. Probably the only thing that I’m useful in.

  Pulling back his hand, he turned around to see the director unclenching his hands, as he pounded the right side of his chest with a balled fist. Clearing his throat, he took another step back as he bowed down to the two of them again.

  (Director) I suppose that filing the paperwork wouldn’t be needed.

  (Female Zirardge Guard) We want to be discreet about this.

  (Director) By all means. Use her to your heart's content. It doesn’t matter if you work her to the bone as long as you get her out of here.

  Arching his back up to stand up straight, both of his feet were pinned together closely, as he opened his eyes to see the three of them walking out of the cell. Holding her dirt-covered hand, he kept her in check as she pinned her eyes downcasted onto the floor, her bare feet smacking the sticky unwashed stone.

  Ignoring the rest of the beast-human kids that began to extend their hands out of the bars, tear-eyes nestled on every face. Her grip tightening evermore, Johnny let out a low hiss from his lips, puckering them up from the strength of the cat-girl.

  (Johnny’s thoughts) I highly doubt that things would change with her around. I Hope Vivy doesn’t beat her around that much.

  Walking along the old wooden stairs, neither Johnny nor the cat-girl looked behind them, as the dim candlelight barely fought against the cold dark. Being in front of the door that led to the first floor, Johnny gripped the handle but didn’t push or pull as he kept his hand in place.

  Her eyes still cast downward, Johnny stared at the handle, his fingers cracking the metal.

  (Johnny) Tell me your name…

  She let go of his hand.

  Clutching both of her hands together, she had them hover over her crotch, her nails as yellow as chicken feed. Opening her mouth, her breath alone swept into both Johnny’s mouth and nostrils, causing him to scrunch up his face.

  (Cat-girl) It’s Elizabeth…

  Her voice was quiet, her lips pale, and some of her teeth were thickened in a thick yellow layer of saliva. Pushing down the handle to the door, it swayed open, as both finally let the winter desert sun glow against their faces.

  Her eyes widened, she looked to the left of her, seeing the morning sun.

  Looking to the right of her, the boy continued to be by her side despite her entire body radiating the smell of rotten cheese.

  (Johnny) Sorry to break it to you, but there’s no way that you’ll be this smelly during the car ride back. We’re going to the hotel to wash you up.

  Gripping her hand yet again despite it being sticky, he tugged her body close to his, causing her to almost trip. Letting the motion of his tug drag her, her bare feet continued to push her onward, her throat soon releasing a low purr.

  A purr that didn’t match her soulless face.

  (Johnny) And also; welcome to your new life.