Carnival of Rust [Fell & Noodle]

[»Rie]

The chain link cast shadows in crisscrossing patterns all along the cement walls; and water dripped from a tap that stuck out from the hallways wall like a bone in the dirt. Rust tinged the metal the color of old, dried blood; corroding it until it was almost black. The shadows were thick as fog, and inky as the void between distant stars. He strove to force himself into them as though he could mesh with them, disappear into them, cease to exist in them. The smells of rust filled his nostrils, the low drip, drip, drip to the leaky tap a counter point to the pitiful whines of the other incarcerated beasts. He drooled, the pool of spittle at his feet creating a slimy trail across the cement that glistened in the low glow of the flickering over head track lights. A rolling growl thrummed in his chest, and occasionally the beast would let off several snapping snarls causing the wailing of the inmates around him to stop for several long minutes. His eyes rolled wildly as he crouched in the corner of his cell; more like a feral monster than a dog.

The sharp clap, clap, clap of flat human soles smacked against the ground and the shadows darkened, falling across him in the shape of man. His mad eyes rose to glare at the human who peered in at him the echo of words bouncing off the inside of his head like bat's screeching in a cavern "Et tu, brute?"

He lunged, and was choking on the slim, slick tether bounding around his throat, the muzzle keeping him from biting did not stop the thick ropes of saliva from arching across the ground, nor his claws from scraping across the cement until they were ground down to the quick. The Man stood before him, smirking smugly as he pulled toward him, only to be jerked harshly back by the handlers, returning again, and again. The Man wiped a spatter of saliva from his suit jacket, laughing.

Laughing, laughing, laughing.

Deep chuckles from a female dog, oddly deep but suiting. He stared at the female as she found amusement in something; they'd been conversing, but he couldn't recall about what or why. The bars of the fence were cold and hard against his thin fur, pressing indents into his muscular body as he strained to get closer to her, listening as she rejoined each nuance of his wit and amused him. He set aside the violent need to tear, for the barbs of the tongue. It was an unusual change, but refreshing despite the brevity.

Something changed, minute as a drip from the leaky tap, and tasting just as much of rust: He was lunging again, like the first time: like every time before or after or until. His jaws wrapped lovingly, pulling at skin that gave with it's slack before it began to tear, like a child opening a gift at Christmas. The pavement was decorated in rose red, that became rust black. She lay at his paws, sunrise fur looking like a graveyard, slit open along the belly with a mess dripping out; head nearly detached from the viciousness, and jagged tear toward her collarbone; the trachea nearly split in twain.

Then she lifted her head, staring at him with dead eyes: Corpse eyes like he saw in the fountain at the estate, and the rusty chain was around his neck choking him.

He couldn't breathe.

The cage was to small, his shoulders scraping against the roof of it, the wire making already painful sores crack open and ooze; puss and blood dribbled down his gaunt sides. His legs were steeped in his own waste matter up to the elbows. His underside caked with ooze. He thrashed, and his head smashed into the side of the cage as he strove to render himself senseless. His throat was parched, his stomach eating itself.

The end, the end, the en-

Junius' head smashed into the underside of a sheet of rusted metal that was propped against a metal barrel; his sides heaved as he panted. The ground was torn in deep furrows from the restless clawing he'd done in his sleep. The hallow sound of water drumming against his paltry shelter echoed loudly in his ears as the rhythm of rainfall picked up, the world beyond taken on the washed out gray of dreariness. A few lights flickered on with a low, buzzing hum, and silence curdled like spoiled milk all around the doberman. His tongue flopped around, spattering saliva on the bit of dry dirt he rested on, and after a moment he surged up and away from his little hide away, stumbling on numbed legs.

His black and silver studded collar gleamed dully as he dropped his haunches to the ground, head dangling on a slim but powerful neck. His nose brushed against the mud, and rain water ran in rivulets down his sides. His body trembled in slow fits, and he ground his teeth together breathing through muddied nostrils. After several long moments he let his legs collapse from under him and fell with a wet smack into the muck, shark like eyes staring blankly at the piles of trash rearing around him like a chain of strange mountains.

The minutes ticked by, and the downpour slowed to a hiss then faded as weak, watery sunlight poured through the monotone gray cloud cover. The skies continued to threaten more of a downpour, but for now he was left only with the sound of water dripping from a rusted waterspout, to land with a reverberating plunk on the metallic barrel nearby.

[Noodle!]

<sub>The fresh scent of rain slowly mingled with the rancid twang of the garbage and priceless treasures that was in dump yard so keenly called the “Waste Management Center”. The compost piled high into sky, clashing dull, grungy tones with those of blue and white. It seemed to stretch on like a wasteland for miles, but was in reality not as large as it appeared. The main building where the manager of the Center stayed was at the human entrance, some ways away from where the police officer had parked his patrol car. A deliver was to arrive soon, and he took care to be out of the way to avoid moving his vehicle. The rain delayed not only delivery, but sent the old manager to Memory Lane for a long stroll, in which the cop was an unsuspecting victim as he was dragged along through the monsoons of Vietnam and teeth attached to strings and doorknobs. Beneath that very car lay the officer’s dog: a large, handsome black German Shepherd. And as it turns out, the runaway Doberman was not the only one in dream.

Kavok’s dream was more pleasant and upbeat, much like the young dog himself. He was tumbling, but not in an unpleasant way. He was lying on his back, falling through a sky of white, silk clouds. All around him were various dogs, females he supposed, for that was what occupied most of his wakened thoughts as it was. They all reached for him in gentle caresses with their tails, paws, and tongues. Nuzzling him with their maws as he was helplessly lying on nothingness. A pointless dream, with no meaning, which was interrupted by that Canaan dog from the park when she and the ‘Southern Belle’ got into a fight. Growls and snarls broke out, and he continued to fall.

Dark eyes snapping open, the dog jerked his head upwards, avoiding the base of the car he was sleeping beneath. His ears twitched as they heard the vile sound of some enraged animal, and he realized that it was not just a remnant of a dream. The sound was all too real, and all too close. He crawled from beneath the car, feet sinking into the wet muck as he walked towards where he imagined the sound may be coming from. Water dripped all around, magnified by the shepherd’s acute hearing, and made location and keeping his attention on the object of desire very difficult. But he continued, nose working overtime… Seeing this just as another exercise in his training.

His vest (the one he bragged protected him from bullets) was sopping wet from where water had collected underneath the car, and his belly and chest hanged like extra skin. Soon, he caught sight of a something catching the light in a twinkle and he paused. A rumble arose in the throat as the scent of another unaltered male entered his nostrils, and he sent out a single bark.</sub>

[fell]

The Earth was being drowned by the tears falling from Heaven as it cried. The sun was nowhere to be seen, causing the Earth to look just that much more depressing. The state it was now it was rather disgusting. Puddles filled the streets, the dirt and the grass. Those same puddles caused the dirt to soften and become slush that stuck to the paws, sliding in between webbed toes and causing discomfort to anyone that stepped in it. It was the way the Earth said that people took it for granted and treated it poorly. The natural disasters that threw the world off and caused chaos. A simple rainy day seemed almost harmless, sure, but there was a chain reaction set off by such a simple thing.

Those simple things in life all caused a chain effect. There was always a purpose for something happening, and a consequence for ones doings. Light rain could easily damage a lot of things in life. No doubt, a little girl wanted to go outside and play with her new Barbie toys and the little plastic jeep that came along with it. Or there would be the father and son who were supposed to go out and go fishing in the nearby lake. The pets were called inside so they wouldn’t track mud into the house, and the little potted plants the wife was growing was brought inside so they didn’t get drowned to death. They weren’t all bad things, though. Some things benefited from such a little disaster. There was the worm that snuck into a nice warm house by hiding under a leaf in a plant. The Earth got her thirst quenched, and the flowers would be blooming as soon as the sun returned. The days following rain were always pleasant.

Heavy footsteps treaded in those puddles filling the streets, causing the water to splash and spread further along the asphalt. For once in the summer, it didn’t hurt to walk along the asphalt, which normally would be blazing hot and burn the soft paw pads of any dog that dared to walk on it. There were no cars going down the streets, everyone was inside sitting by their warm fires, drinking hot chocolate and watching a movie with their family. No doubt, the house pets were curled up by the fire, taking a nap and waiting for the sun to come back out so they could play outside once more.

Abruptly, the moving creature halted in the middle of the road, standing still and not moving a single muscle. Then suddenly, the massive form of the creature twisted, shoulders rolling as his body shook. The long multi-colored pelt that clung to his body, soaked by the rain began to peel away from his skin. Beads of water flew off of the pelt, landing on the asphalt and who else knows where. The large cranium of the brute tilted upward, dark eyes looking up towards the sky. Slowly they narrowed, as if silently telling the heavens that it needed to finish crying, so the rest of the world could get on with their lives. Why was the sky so important that when it cried, the whole world had to halt and stop what it was doing? Nothing in the world seemed that important to Fell, nothing would ever cause him to put his life on hold. Nobody mattered that much to him, not even God.

The brutes life had not been put on hold for this silly little God that the humans worshiped. His life would continue on, and that’s exactly why he was back on the move. The rain had slowly let up, and it seemed the Heavens were going to let up on their little emo fit. An adventure towards the local dump would not be stopped by some silly rain, though; it could very well ruin some damn good food. The hamburger buns and other bread would all be soaked, completely soiled. There was always the food in plastic containers that would be safe though, protected and waiting to be eaten by the scavengers that flocked to the dump. The birds wouldn’t be smart enough to open the containers, unless they had learned from the dogs or other higher class scavenger that visited the waste land. That meant the only threat to finding good food would be another dog, because the cats would be walking towards a death wish if they took a stand against a hungry dog for some food.

As a paw fell, it landed in soft earth, sinking and almost causing the male to stumble. Look where you walk, hadn’t that been a lesson he learned when he was a pup? Obviously it wasn’t a valued lesson to the massive male. He had reached his destination finally, the towers of trash looking like some sort of hidden treasure that the humans would watch movies about. Except this treasure wasn’t hidden, some retard had left it out in the open. It didn’t ever run out though, or disappear. This treasure would always remain, the humans didn’t see how valuable it was.

The hybrid ambled slowly along, finding a way into the dump rather easily. The humans had left a gate open in their rush to return home to eat some canned soup and get out of the rain. Why were the humans so weak, why didn’t they see how lovely it was when it rained? The sun was slowly warming up the Earth, and in doing so, the pelt of the males dried and began to return to its normal fluffy appearance. Just the way he liked it.

A large ear twitched, tilting as the sound of a growl reached it. Curiosity always got the best of Fell, he was half wolf after all. Fell moved as quiet as possible, large paws sinking into the soil as he moved around the piles of waste. As soon as he came around a corner, two dogs entered his view. A black male with some sort of human contraption was standing, another dog on the ground. It didn’t look like the best situation, and one could only assume that there was some sort of fight going on, or something of the sort judging by the aggression coming out of the black male.

The large ears slowly tilted back as he approached from behind the black male. A growl erupted from Fell, but it was nothing more than to make his presence known. Really, he had no idea what was going on here. Whatever it was, he had just made himself involved in it, though.

[»Rie]

Thick and black greasy coils of smoke belched from the furnace as it burned away the non degradable items so that they wouldn't clog up the space for the trash that would, over time, degrade into a smelly pile of ooze and return to the earth. The smoldering embers of the fire had mostly gone out, killed by the rain but beneath the heaps of refuse life still churned like the everlasting flames of a burning coal mine. Shimmers of heat persisted in the air over the mouldering pile causing it to waver and change like a mirage in a desert. One of Junius' eyes watched the shapes the foul smelling smoke created as it drifted passed over him, the burning pile somewhere toward his back, and across the massive area. The smell of rotten food plagued the air and seeped into him until he could nearly taste it.

Sunlight shone weakly on his coat blinded his cloudy eyes, and obscuring his vision as the small hole in the sky widened fractionally casting a low coating of mellow gold over the muddy clearing he'd fallen over in. The muck clung to his side and legs as though attempting to drag him down, pressing at the black lips set in the folds of his tan muzzle as though to get inside and smother him. Damp black and tan fur was plastered smooth to his body giving him a rather dead appearance on the whole: It almost looked like he'd crawled there and simply expired; the flat expression in his filmy eyes only adding to the appearance. He didn't move, barely seemed to breathe.

The passing heat of the sun seemed to settle as the dreary gray cloud cover was driven wider apart by the finicky wind; Junius couldn't help but think it wouldn't last. His eye flickered slightly as he took in the pallid blue sky lined by silvery clouds: The silver lining? How very whimsical, his mind buzzed faintly as though trying to expel the thought post haste; Monsters didn't do whimsy, unless it as the horror kind of whimsy. Was there a horror kind of whimsy? I wonder... he mused. Deciding in a fit of spiteful contrariness that it didn't matter, he could be a whimsical monster if he so desired; after all, who would stop him?

There's a hole in the sky today, I wonder what it's for... His eyes rolled downward as a low thrum broke through the air and he fathomed he could see the vibrations the sound caused. There framed by small tendrils of steam rising from the muddy ground, cause by the warmth of sun and burning refuse stood a dog. He was cast in silhouette framed by the pallid sunlight. Another hum of sound cut like a dull knife through the air, cracking and grating in his ears. His jaw twitched minutely at the sound causing his carnassials to grind together. The two of them stood there dark as onyx, and for a fleeting moment he wondered if they were why the sky had broken open like an egg on the cement.

A low sound burned up the back of his throat, dark dank humor curdling in his stomach as his voice broke forth spilling on the mud like rust filled rain drops, "You're to solid to be angels, or bringers of death. Do you're lutes sing justice?" He asked nonsensically. A fly crawled up the length of his cheek, tenderly creeping along the ridge of his sharp ear to the point where it stood, running it's tiny fore legs over large segmented eyes and vibrating tiny wings to get rid of moister. Junius' ear ticked once, and the tiny insect buzzed off with a high speed jolt and a trajectory that quickly took it toward a moist pile of rotting vegetation.

A long fore leg, the tan encrusted with the soggy brown of moist earth shifted slowly upward until he set the black paw pads into the mud with a low squelch. His paw slid forward a few inches creating a strange trough of a print when he applied pressure, his muscular body rocking to the side, and heaving upward ponderously. His other fore leg whipped forward smacking down with enough force to cause small globules of mud to spatter outward. He sat there, hind legs still curled under him, resting on his hip as filth oozed down one side of his head and entire body. Smearing the black of his coat an unidentifiable greenish gray-brown. His jaws parted, tongue sliding forward to dangle out.

Above the resting city the sun continued it's glorious travel through the sky, dipping ponderously toward the horizon and tinting the hole in the sky a vibrant orange and bloody red. The golden glow dispersed within milliseconds casting them all in a demonic hue. The fur along his back was drying faster than the rest of him due to the heat of the burning trash somewhere behind him, the mud caking and drying into his hide. Shadows began to thicken again as more steel gray clouds piled into the wavering hole, and soft misty drizzle started up again. Gray shadows clouded the area, and Junius brought his hind legs up under him pushing up into a full standing position and bringing the full bore of his corpse eyes to bear on the two dogs that had drifted toward him.

His teeth ached, and his head buzzed with agitation after the nightmare he'd just born witness to. Nothing could smooth away the clawing grip of it, and his muscles remained as tense as ever. He'd probably looked like a dead dog suffering rigor mortis not but a few moments prior. His head tilted, slowly lowering his jaws closing as his tongue retreated into his mouth and he gave a low sound of hair being expelled. Swaying slightly on his paws, he rolled his shoulders head wavering back, and forth. He wondered if they'd think him diseased. Morbidly amused this thought spurred the fire into being. He'd seen the darker one's vest, so he had to be a humans companion. He didn't know if the other was as well or not.

Black lips peeled back, and he let the thrumming snarl finally begin to boil from his chest. His agitation reaching full height as flashes of the Man danced in his minds eye. His gums throbbed faintly with the need to tear the filthy humans apart. Stiffly the fur along his spine stood on end, and he brought his head snapping up jaws hanging open to show the full threat of his teeth, "You'll have to do." He breathed.

Giving a faint twitch of his head, he lifted his fore paw then shot forward in a sudden manic movement going straight for the closest of the duo; the black male, with jaws wide open and aiming to grab onto his thick furred neck, or even onto an ear. It didn't matter, really.

[Noodle!]

<sub>The sun was a dull yellow color comparable to human’s butter, and it gave off little warmth. The vain light reached the three dogs, all poised for action in the serendipitous situation they found themselves in. The entire sky was slowly forming from shades of grey and azure to yellow and gold, with tinges of violet and deep sapphires. The air was shockingly still; stagnant with the scent of rot and decay. Smoke hazed the eyes and dulled the senses, turning them more into the beasts that they were viewed as. The ebonite coat of the German Shepherd glistened on the tips of the air as the neutral sunlight set its paint on it like a brush. The shorter hair of the Doberman was nearly completely transformed by the light, turning him into some shining demon.

A gentle breeze broke through the quiet stillness, carrying a fresh stench of the human trash forward to their nostrils. A piece of a bubblegum wrapper blew between the two black dogs, the comic inside meaning nothing to them at all as its filthy exterior exposed itself in a whirlwind. Blowing away, it caught itself in a stiff piece of rust and half ripped, saying goodbye to its other half and disappearing into distant traffic that was moving in a steady stream like ants across the highway systems of Harlow.

Kavok had a unique outlook on these ‘cars’ humans were so fond of. He enjoyed them, while other dogs were worried of being ran over or picked up by the people in the white lab coats who injected burning venom into your eyes, and gave you food that made you sick. But he practically lived in a car, he rode with his human partner around town, sitting up front when they caught some criminal. This was a string of thoughts unimportant to the time and situation they were in now. But Kavok never bragged about his attention span because, well, he didn’t have one.

Auds flicked backwards, riffling through the sounds that it had caught. Another dog had arrived, and through the smoke and stench of the area he could discern its sex was also male. Too much testosterone in one small, contained area was never good. Already, the black dog was having second thoughts about his curious trek and discovery of the hiding brute. A growl was audible behind him, and he wondered which side the new dog would chose if this turned ugly.

He stole a glance back, taking in the sight of another male. This one was most definitely a pet as well. His coat was long and full of body and volume, much like that of a Norwegian Elkhound, but he sensed a more ancient bloodline in this dog. Wolf was most likely, as hybrids were becoming more and more common in the home and the workforce. His facial markings were most strange, but reasonably attractive if one was seeking uniqueness. Kavok nodded, his maw taking a slow dip towards the unpromising ground which the were all sinking into.

Overhead, a crow let out a long and lonely caw. His nose jerked upwards, dark eyes taking in the ominous sight of the shiny, black bird. Its feathers glistened deeply, an almost blue color, as it flew over the dogs without any signs of recognition or concern. It sent out another cry, flying over the yolk of the sky that was the sun and then disappearing over the deteriorating chain fences. The shepherd dog had a dry reckoning that it could have been the black corpse before him, his damned soul fleeting the scene before the final confrontation. He did not doubt the strength of the massive brute, but looking into his eyes the usual glimmer of light was no longer there. He was dead in conscious and matters of the heart.

Kavok look a slow, shuttering breath. His face was almost in a doting, puppy state; teeth gently exposed in a solemn grin, tongue gliding in and out of view from between his canines. His thoughts were interrupted by a low rumble of sound, the words of the Doberman were indiscernible in the K-9’s ears. He turned his head, ears cocked as if to ask what the dog had said. That’s when he saw it: the black beast had transformed into a deadly arrow directing itself at his face and neck.

Kavok ducked, curling his body into an almost fetal position, he felt razors sink into the back of his neck and through certain areas of his back. He yelped, struggling beneath the Doberman, and refusing to allow himself to be shook hard enough to shatter his spine. He shoved his shoulder blades upwards, trying to hit the other dog in the teeth, and hopefully rattle his brain.

And the show begins.</sub>

[fell]

There was hardly a greeting that passed between the three males. Fell had no idea what he had just stepped in the middle of. Whatever it was, he had just gotten sucked right into the midst of the entire thing, whether he liked it or not. Dark eyes glanced towards the black dog as it nodded towards Fell, and in turn he returned the dog. It was almost seemed as if a silent agreement between the two of the males. There wasn’t of course. Fell couldn’t decide if the Doberman was a pet or not, if he was a pet, then Fell felt incredibly sorry for whoever owned him.

It looked as though a standoff, three males staring each other down, unwavering as they awaited the first movement. It was the calm in the storm, quite literally, and there was no better scene. Trash and decay surrounded the three, the stench making Fell’s nose sting. No normal creature enjoyed the smell of death and decay, and right in front of him seemed to be the corpse with the stench. The Dobermans words confused Fell, they really made no sense. It only helped the hybrid decide that whoever it was, they were insane. Maybe the fall had knocked their mind off. What If it was a stray with rabies? No, there was no foam at the mouth. The insane part was definitely there, though.

As the stand off continued, his muscles tensed, waiting for the first movement. By his feet, a parade of ants crossed over the land. Another busy life in their lives, following the scent trails left by the scouts that told them where the food would be held. Their lives were controlled by one being, and they followed orders like the little good soldier ants that they were. Idly, one of Fell’s massive paws stepped foreword, he was eager for something to happen. That single paw threw off an entire world, it destroyed the scent trail the ants were stalking after. If ants could scream, they would have been screaming at the top of their lungs at Fell. Instead, they ran around, in circles and in general, just in chaos. It was silly how easily a world could be ruined by a single footstep.

In a flash of teeth and a sudden rash movement, the Doberman was up and lunging straight at the black male. It seems that he had been chosen as the first target; the first victim. In that split second, Fell had to come to a decision. Fight alongside the black male, or take off before the insane male changed his mind and went after him? Weight his options, Fell decided that even a large dog by himself couldn’t stand up against a creature of such insanity. Running would lead to further humility, and Fell had too much pride to let himself go down that road.

The males lips lifted, exposing the shiny white teeth of the wolf hybrid as he prepared himself. What was he getting himself into? A load of pain and trouble, that’s exactly what it would be. It was such a selfless act that he would more than likely regret in the end when his humans would rush him to an animal hospital and he cost the humans thousands of dollars to be patched together. Ridiculous, really. Large paws sunk into the earth, dark eyes watching as the scene played before him in what seemed like slow motion.

The black male had attempted to dodge, but failed and ended up getting a nasty bite to the back of the neck and just about everywhere else where the Doberman could get his jaws on at that moment. It placed the black dog in a really bad position, his back completely exposed for the Doberman to take a taste of. Seizing the moment, Fell lunged foreword towards the two males in a blur of movement, quickly closing the distance between them. A growl erupted from the male, the sort that made humans cringe when they heard a dog fight. The disgusting noise that seemed almost unnatural to come forth from a dog that had such a naturally nice disposition.

Fell’s head lowered as he lunged at the Doberman, his whole body weight throwing itself towards the males frame in an aim to toss the dog off balance and away from the black male. At the same time, his jaws snapped open and shot downward towards one of the Dobermans hind legs.

Two on one never seemed fair in anything. In this case, it didn’t seem fair enough. The odds were still against the two dogs against the insane creature.

[»Rie]

The black shepherd curled upward as he came at him allowing his gaping maw to latch onto the back of his neck. Choking clouds of thick black fur filled him to the back of his throat tickling along the ridged insides of his mouth. His tongue compressed the strands into a palette against the dogs muscles and spine, and as he pressed forward his jaws readjusting their grip as he brought his heavy weight to bear on the other male he gave vent to a muffled roar; a conquerors roar. His fore legs reached forward curling around the black male's shoulders, his claws skidding against the material of his working vest; as a result his chest was pressing down on the shepherd's head and probably forcing his snout into the mud. The Doberman's jaws came to wrap almost lovingly around the ridge of the male's spine, before the muscles tensed and the pressure of biting down was exerted: He clamped his jaws closed on his hold, and dug his teeth in feeling the resistance of flesh, and almost hearing the soft pop as it gave and flooded his taste buds with the coppery residue of still warm blood.

Rough snarls choked in his throat, held back by the muffling effect of the male he held in a tight grip. The muscles along his spine and neck tensed and bulged as he prepared to move again, and with a sharp roll of his upper body he gave a forceful jerk of his head up and to the left while the rest of his sleek muscled body seemed to press onto the male's head with more force: It almost seemed as though the doberman was intent on ripping the other dog into two pieces.

He snorted heavy breathes out through his nostrils, his own grip on the male making it hard for him to breathe, but he seemed to refuse to relinquish his hold and instead tensed for another had shake. However, even as he made tug the black dog beneath him bucked upward like an enraged bronco his shoulder blades coming upward and forward as he dug his paws into the soggy ground. The bone beneath flesh, fur, and muscle slammed into the Junius' muzzle, and sent fiery threads of pain burning up along his snout and into his brain where they coalesced and shattered into brilliant crystal shards. He gave a snarl of rage and pain, his head jerking back wards and dragging his fangs in tearing lines along the back of the male's neck, refusing to simply release even in his anguish. His neck arched, head shaking in quick jerks from side to side; his eyes screwed shut and rust tinted teeth snapping; a single bead of ruby red blood coursed down his nasal passage to darken a line in on his tan snout from leathery nose to black lip.

Already off balance from the first male the second male's heavy weight slamming into his side sent Junius toppling, the ground rushing up to meet his side as he fell with a grunt, his body writhing through the thick oozing mud. One hind paw kicked out toward the snapping jaws of the paler colored male as he'd felt his teeth snapping at his haunches like a irritating fly out for an ounce of blood. Twisting his spine almost painfully from the speed of the contortion the doberman rolled over completely and forced himself back to his paws at a quick clip.

Instead of diving right back into the fray for more he allowed his direction to arc off, his body moving with an oddly boneless looking grace; his shoulder blades rolling beneath his mud coated hide like a hunting cats. His head stayed turned toward them, blood stained mouth gaping and a rope of pink tinted saliva hanging from the corner. Filmy eyes roved over the duo as he panted leisurely, and contemplated. He'd forgotten how tender his muzzle was, but it was an oversight he couldn't care to much about. The throb of pain, while fiery, was easily cast aside. Snapping his jaws closed as he started a second circuit of the duo, breaking off the drool, before lapping at his jaws eyes drifting to half mast as he made a show of relishing in the taste. The choker chain like part of his studded collar swung to and fro like a hypnotists pendulum.

His paws squelched in the mud as he paced; a shark circling the school of fish, ready any moment to swerve back in to restart it's feeding frenzy. Then he was moving forward toward the pair again, lowering his head as he barreled toward the paler furred male, his mind intent on slamming into and grabbing hold of his shoulder muscle, hopefully tearing it enough to make it difficult to put full weight on one of his limbs.

[Noodle!]

<sub>Strange how time can change speed when something dramatic, important, or… Dreadfully painful, is occurring. Kavok realized this, and had time to contemplate it and its meaning in life as he and the biting dog struggled for control in the situation. For the longest amount of time he was still, just holding his own against the dog who held his life in his paw, desperately trying to crush it like some worthless insect.

Everything seemed to move in a slow-motion sort of way as Kavok forced up self upwards into the mouth of his attacker. The searing, ripping pain of the Doberman’s bite peaked when his shoulder’s bone bet the sharp incisors and the numbness he once blessed fled him. His yelps turned to growls and snarls as he felt the teeth rip from his shoulder. He stood with his front feet nearly sprawled, supporting his black, furry form. His neck was not in bad physical shape, though the several punctures throbbed with a burning pain, but his shoulder was a different story. He was nearly skinned, a considerable flap of fur and flesh hanging from him. The slick meat underneath was exposed, pink against black, and was oozing white and red.

His black eyes were still calm, but inside he was panicking. Adrenaline, thankfully, was slowly taking over and the smooth-feeling that he was just in another training routine slowly settled in. His mind, heart, and body knew good and well this was no training exercise… This was real, as real as it gets. But something in the back of his head woke up, walked to the back wall and flipped a switch. Relax. It vibed, voiceless but echoing in his awareness, Concentrate and react. The words made no sense to Kavok, but he told his body to obey that strange being.

The wolf-dog had come to his aid after all, and he saw him dive for Doberman’s hind leg, but he paid no attention to whether the attack landed or not. The other dog’s plan and course of action was not important. Kavok was on the defensive, never the attacker, and he was calculating the beast’s next possible move. Anything was possible with this dog. He held a very small pain threshold, his tolerance amazing. He did take note of the blood dripping slowly from the dog’s nostril like a leak in a massive dam, knowing that specific area would already be tender. The two other dogs began to glare at each other from a distance, doing nothing but slightly pacing and panting. Kavok watched carefully, weighing his options. The temptation to flee was very strong, but his noble ways would not let him leave the hybrid, even if it meant they would both be dragged down.

That being the most likely possibility.

The large, black dog suddenly dove at the mix-breed in a maddened frenzy. Kavok’s eyes widened, muscles tensed and ready. He did not know how violent this next attack would be, nor where the creature was aiming to injure. Suddenly, teeth flashed from the narrow maw into visibility as the dog’s muzzle directed itself at the shoulder. Once again, that slow-motion phenomenon took place and some divinity gave him time to think. Time to calm down. Kavok knew he must make a decision: it was now or never.

The black male made his choice, and it was to protect and defend… This was, after all, what he was bred and trained to do. His black paws dug into the mush, staining his legs nearly halfway up. He propelled himself into action, springing from his haunches. He darted between the two, raising up on his hind legs to place his paws on the chest of the other German-bred dog. His mind’s eye say it being played out much like the games pups played in the yard. Facing each other on two legs, mouthing at the face but never biting… With one minute difference: Kavok lunged at the already injured muzzle. This was the only weak spot he could find on the Doberman at the time; mind racing, he couldn’t decide on any other course of action. No other weakness on the demon. As far as the German Shepherd and the Hybrid?

Rationality was their weakness.</sub>

[fell]

Everything was slowing down, senses enhancing by ten fold at the same exact time. All the motion was slow, every fall of a paw seeming to take minutes to move just a foot. His heart beat had quickened, and it seemed to throb so hard that he could hear it ringing in his ears. The rest of the world had fallen utterly silent, the snarls and yelps coming from the three dogs disappearing as if someone had hit the mute button on a television.

It felt like forever for him to reach the other male, especially watching as the Doberman attempted to rip the other dog into two pieces, no matter what the black male did to shake him off. Even after receiving shoulder blades into the muzzle. The dog was truly insane, and at this point he thought that he could even put a fighting pit bull to shame. Then it hit him, seeping into his nostrils quickly. It was the scent of blood, coming from both of the other males, but at his angle, he couldn’t quite see where it was coming from off the Doberman.

Fell felt his own massive form slam against the other male, his whole weight colliding with the side of the dog. In an instant, he caught his own balance and was in for the attack on the hind leg. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the sight of the hind leg kicking out at his jaws. A cry of pain erupted from the hybrid as the foot caught his muzzle, hitting it with enough force to make his head snap to the side. Automatically, the male quickly moved off and away from the Doberman as it staggered to its feed.

The multi-colored dog felt like a cornered pray as the insane creature began to circle. Heavy paws took multiple steps backwards as he put his body in reverse, placing himself closer to the black male dog. It was a sort of strategic move on Fell’s behalf, his instinct telling him what to do, and how to move. Move fast, strike hard, and stick together. Just like a pack of wolves, he would work together with the other male as best he could. Playing to the others weakness and watching the males back as best as possible. Sticking together always made things more safe. Why else would herds of animals stick together, when running, or protecting their young?

Panic was something that never entered the males head. Fell was level headed, and completely calm, at least for the moment he was. Adrenaline had long entered his veins, pumping up the male. He was ready to go, to charge in and go down with a fight. There was a sort of internal conflict though, with wanting to do that, and wanting to stay back and think things through before acting. Fell wasn’t one to make rash decisions, though jumping into some random fight could definitely be considered one.

Fell was forced to break from his thoughts as the Doberman suddenly lunged foreword, rushing towards him. Now he was the target of attack, and he had to think fast to avoid some serious damage. Getting his shoulder bitten was one of the worst places, and no doubt it would cause serious pain. His body lowered, muscles tensing as he prepared to leap at the dog racing towards him. It wasn’t to be though, before anything more could happen, the black dog had placed himself between Fell and the possessed male.

Tag team, that was the best way to at least stand a chance against the possessed Doberman. In a flash, Fell was on the move, his large paws sliding in the mud as he quickly maneuvered around the black male. Being on hind legs gave major advantages and disadvantages for both the black male, and the Doberman. There was a weakness to the Doberman, his muzzle, which the black male seemed to be playing on. If they could injure the mad dog enough, he would weaken and back off, maybe even give up and leave.

Fell’s jaws snapped open once again as he rushed to the Dobermans side. Those sharp teeth flashed and flew towards a foreleg of the crazed dog.

[»Rie]

Time splintered into fractured little pieces that flickered before his shark eyes in sepia tinted photographs. Each movement that the duo he circled made seemed to be snap shoots in quickly turning pages. He could pause to examine any one of them at any time, for any amount of time. The world was his, and everything was perfectly clear. Junius figured that these two dogs were seeing him as a monster; insane, and that suited him just fine. It always shattered the other dogs a little when it dawned on them that his mind wasn't as broken as they fathomed; that, here, was a beast fully cognizant of his sinning. He was a brutal monster, and he had accepted this. Right from Wrong was a theory he could understand, and he recognized his actions as being "wrong," and yet at the same time felt helpless to stop himself; didn't want to stop. It was, really, as though Junius had chosen to be insane; he walked this path willingly: Surrounded himself in the shroud of mindlessness and embraced his instincts. Perhaps he was a sociopath who viewed himself above the social norms, or maybe he was a psychopath who craved violence like a drug, or maybe, just maybe, Junius had stopped caring about all of this and simply sought out to live his life surrounded by the world of his own making.

The blood roared in his ears, singing a heated ballad of blood and battle. The stink of anxiety hung like humidity on the damp air souring the stale scent of mud, garbage, and blood. The burn of rotting material scorched through his lungs as his body heaved from the exertion, adrenaline whirred through him like oil in the gears of a machine pushing the low white points pain he felt even further into the background noise of his mind; white noise in the radio of the Doberman's mind. The sound of his own heavy panting echoed in his ears like a thunder clap, as his trajectory carried him toward the lighter colored male at a quick clip. The snap shots of the world jarred, and changed abruptly as the dark male threw himself in front of the other.

Junius felt shock tremble through his body, and back his breath catch in his lungs. Those mud colored irises of the dogs changed, and a spark of life fluttered into life behind his filmy pupils; confusion ricocheted through him like a wild bull charging it's perceived tormentor. Why? Why was this dog jumping in the line of danger? Why was he protecting the other male? Did they have some pact? Did one male owe something to the other? What were they getting out of such an action?

Junius had shrugged off the earlier attack from the pale dog when he'd gone for the darker one as an action of battle lust, after all he couldn't fathom why he'd avoid a battle... But... Had the other dogs aim been to aide the dark male? He couldn't comprehend such a thing. Why, why, why? Why would another help, someone else? Why would this other dog throw himself in front of him; a sacrifice for some heathen devil?

A rushing roar of reality spilled into the Doberman's head as he was brought back to reality, his body continuing it's charge even as his mind lolled a thousand miles away, rolling in shock. His hind paws skidded through the mud, the muscles along his spine tensing as he reared upward, the black German shepherd's paws passing to either side of his head and skimming along the ridges of his neck, the claws sliding over sleek grimy fur to settle, curved over his shoulders like some sort of twisted embrace. The long curving arch of the Doberman's neck jerked upward, whipping to the side as the dark dog lunged for his muzzle; perceiving a weakness in the fortress of the demon's physical defenses.

The black shepherd's teeth scraped neatly over the dark top of Junius' snout, dipping into the skin and etching a thin line along the sharp line of his muzzle back toward the Doberman's eye, even as Junius turned his head, causing a canine to break through and pit his flesh lightly before being dragged out. The shepherd's teeth clipped his cheek, and then slashed along the side of the Doberman's classically elegant neck, opening a laceration in a slashing line. Crimson star bursts exploded within the Doberman's mind as pain seared along his nervous system in a brilliant Burgundy flash. His panting caused the fur around the black shepherd's neck to stir, his head bent forward like a horse straining to pull a cart. The two were balanced: The shepherd supported by the doberman.

Junius laughed, low and dark. His voice a quiet silver-tongued murmur in the black dogs ear as he breathed, "You protected him? Why?" His earlier musings floated up again, like dangerous vapor from a peat marsh. "What does he have on you? What do you owe him? What garners your fealty, and fidelity?" Confusion simmered in him again, and he seemed totally unaware of the pain that caused brilliant blood to course in a thin sheet of veneer down the side of his neck, speckling the muddy ground below their clasping form.

Then, almost as though he hadn't paused to murmur those words into the black dogs ears Junius' muscles twitched, and he brought his forelegs upward clasping them around his opponents rib cage, his toes flexing to dig his claws into the thick fur to nettle at the skin. As he did so, the other shepherd game barreling toward his foreleg, his teeth nipping a tearing gash along the ankle near his paw before glancing away do to the upward velocity of the limb. His head reared back like a swan, and snapped forward like a viper, aiming for the already gaping tear he'd put in the male previously.

The low crack of a shattering thunderhead came rolling in from the horizon, and a tongue of lightning split the sky, lancing brilliance across the darkening battle ground; the red sun leeching it's burning crimson cast as it descended into darkness like an omen.

[Noodle!]

<sub>Steady waves of pain played upon the beaches of Kavok’s endurance, beating a gentle rhythm as they wracked through his torn and bleeding body. A flap of black fur was hanging limply from his shoulder, the shining glue-like adhesive glimmering in the fading light as it screamed for reconnection with its former attachment. Saliva glazed the faces of all three dogs, blood smears dancing down their bodies in rigid lines. The shepherd’s fur was beginning to matt in thick clumps already, tangling and knotting into stiff dreads. His tail swished back and forth as he balanced himself with its feather-like weight, balancing himself on his back legs. He felt his teeth graze flesh, but did not clasp onto the injured muzzle of the Doberman as he had planned. He felt himself falling forwards as his teeth left various abrasions down the black hide.

His bright eyes rolled back lightly as he tried to catch sight of the hybrid in his peripheral vision, and that cream and black blur moved forwards to grasp at a limb again. So caught up in the moment, Kavok scarcely noticed he was being targeted once again. He’d heard the other dog’s words, but not had time to reply before he felt a sharp snag in his tough undercoat. Claws, hooking like a lure on a fish, were digging into his sides to paralyze him in the upright position. Shaking violently to try and lose himself, he began growling and barking as if for self-motivation. It was to no avail, the Doberman’s fangs dug into that tender area once again, tearing the flesh. He was slowly being peeled open like some layered fruit, first removing the skin, and then the flesh, before tearing out and destroying the vital pit. Pain seared, ripped, and tore through his nerves; the waves turning into spasmodic currents that flowed in erratic patterns through his body. Stardust speckled his vision as it overtook his senses. He tasted blood now, the metallic, coppery flavor suddenly becoming disgusting. A loud rush of sound entered his ears, making the whole scene feel very far away. Numbness soon came in, like the salvation of a returning savior, and he took slow breaths until he regained some of his vision.

Snorting in determination, Kavok lunged for the back of the other dog’s neck as it was craned to allow the teeth to rip at his already injured shoulder. He jaws were widely agape as they prepared to latch onto the soft and exposed muscles of the other dog’s neck. What else was he to do? Kavok was not a fighter, and what little he did know of fighting was aimed towards human aggressors… Not possessed Doberman’s with no pain threshold. He could almost see the scene from above, like an out of body experience; and his mind refused to stay with him. It wandered over dinner, marking territory, treats, chewing leather car seats… everything but the battle itself. He fought to gain control of such wanderings, but it wasn’t working to his best attempts. And then he found himself thinking about trying to think about thinking about the battle; which confused him almost as much as the Doberman. Except for the fact that most dogs had stepped in puddles deeper than Kavok.

He knew soon his master would come and crush their little party. How would he react? Shoot this Doberman? Let them duke it out? Or simply call animal control? He was unsure, as he’d never been in a real dog fight before. Somewhat ironic, as he always put down such canines that fought physically. Now he was looking at the situation completely differently. Defend yourself if necessary, and this was completely necessary. His life was depending on him protecting himself, and his honor was depending on him protecting the other pet. It was not looking promising, and more and more nature foreshadowed negative results were to come.

The entire dump turned a rusty red, casting a cerise glow about the mountains of garbage and waste. The mud turned a ruddy color like the healthy cheeks of a human child, while the sky turned from a canvas of color to a bloodstained blanket. Light struck its way across the sky, cracking it open like a shell in jagged lines for brief moments before disappearing again. Slowly, darkness crept up early; threatening to shroud the battling trio in a premature night as a storm rolled in. White teeth were flashing red in the waning light, and Kavok finally answered his attacker’s question, Because I’m bred to protect and serve.

Cheesy, but what else did you expect from the egotistical pup?</sub>

[fell]

To a raven watching off in the distance, this fight would perhaps lead to a dinner. It would be a dinner to feed its hatchlings, a dinner to raise its young and keep its family alive and content for the day. Sorrow was not something a scavenger could feel. It looked on as the fight commenced, with eager eyes filled with hunger. Slowly its wings stretched, spreading its wingspan as it let out a sharp, ear piercing cry. On top of a car nearby, a hawk landed, crying out and flapping its haggard wings as it tried to balance itself on the awkward angle the roof of the car was at. Patiently deaths minions would watch, waiting for one of the dogs to fall to their death, waiting for dinner to be served.

Such a fight would be later told in stories, passed on from the survivors of the fight. Passed on from generation to generation of dogs. The entire setting would have earned a five star rating if placed into a Hollywood film if the humans could only hear the story from the dogs. The only thing absent from the fight was the theme music that would play along in the background of the fight. Music set a mood, and the mood for this scene would be fast and leave the audience at the edge of their seats, eyes widen and hearts pounding. Hardcore music would set the mood, played out by loud guitar riffs, beating of the drums, and a man screaming his vocal cords into shreds. The scene would play slow motion, adding to the effect of every movement taken by each of the dogs. The environment was muddy, puddles of water causing paws to slide across the earth and throw creatures off balance. Lightning flashed in the background and thunder clapped, swinging the whole scene into one that would easily be labeled with one word. Epic.

There was the villain, an insane dog lacking a motive that wouldn’t be discovered at the end of the movie, leaving paying customers shouting and appalled at the conclusion. The hero would be played by the black shepherd, each time the dog was wounded, it pulled at the heart strings of the watching crowd. Finally, the undertaker, played by the hybrid, who charged in, feeling obligated to help the hero. The crowd would cheer in excitement as he joined the fray to help the hero against the villain. Each person could bond with the characters, and cheer them on as they fought for their lives, silently hoping that the producer was nice enough to let their favorite character survive.

There would be the angry bloggers, who would scream at the end of the movie. Then return home, boot up the computers and post a bulletin on Myspace or a new entry to their livejournals. The artists would run to DeviantArt, break out the tablets and draw out the ending of the fight like it should have been. The little kids would cling to their mothers, crying about how their favorite character was hurt. A new fairytale would be created. Future mothers would scold their children, and tell them that Junius the Doberman would come nibble on their toes if they didn’t brush their teeth and go to bed on time. Pups would be told that if they didn’t groom themselves, Junius would come and rake his razor sharp teeth through their fur for them. Junius would be in the nightmares of all the young ones of the world, and no doubt, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Fell would pass on the story, bragging about how he survived, and probably exaggerating some facts here and there for added dramatic effect. Kavok could stand by and join in, showing off his mighty battle scars. That’s if they both survived the confrontation with the demon, of course.

A conscious screamed at Fell, ringing in large ears for him, causing him to crash back into reality. Everything happened so fast, movements swaying and causing Fell’s head to swim. Working as one was failing miserably, as the two dark dogs locked together, tearing at each others flesh. Things didn’t look well for the hero, while no matter the harm done; the villain seemed to be not affected at all. It was ridiculous how much pain could be inflicted on a crazed animal before it was finally snapped into reality and discovered it was half dead from wounds inflicted upon it during a fit of rage. How much would it take for Junius to hit that point, though? Fell honestly had no idea, but he was sure the black shepherd wouldn’t last long enough to find out on its own. Fell had to help, in any way possible, they had to work together if they wanted to get through this and live to tell the tale.

The villain’s voice broke through the eerie silence that had momentarily taken over the fight. It almost seemed as though the Doberman didn’t understand the reason behind the two working together to save each other. Did Fell completely understand it himself? Not entirely, but he knew he had to help the black shepherd. When he decided to jump into the fight, he did it because he couldn’t just stand back and watch the other dog get torn to shreds. It was probably the loyalty that lived in him from both sides of the genetic pool that lived inside Fell. Shepherds protected, they were raised as protectors and lived to be heros. Wolves worked as one, in a strict hierarchy that depended on fidelity to the pack and those in it, no matter the rank. Everyone was important, even the lowest of the ranks and even the scum of all dogs didn’t deserve a death that it didn’t need. The black shepherd didn’t deserve a death, not yet, it had done nothing to the other dog than cross paths with it. Junius was the grim; it was bad omen to cross paths with.

The rest of the world was gone, his vision only taking concern over the other two dogs bodies. Where they were, where the teeth were flashing, and where the limbs were falling. Those were the only important things to care about. Death’s minions, the garbage floating around them, it all didn’t matter. They came second to making sure that he didn’t get a part of him ripped open by carelessly not watching. The little things that attempted to distract the other male were pushed aside, slapped with an iggy button and dumped into the ignore trash bin like some spam bot on an instant messenger.

Pools of darkness stared upward at the limb, razor sharp teeth flashing as they flew towards the target of limb of the villains. Metallic liquid flooded the creatures mouth, screaming success as he hit the mark. The taste was disgusting, and yet it screamed sweet success and flooded the male with excitement. Due to the angle, his teeth quickly left the flesh and met air. His head snapped to the side, a flash of movement catching the corner of his dark sight. The Doberman was on the attack again, dealing the shepherd yet another blow and causing much more suffering and pain.

Quickly, the multi-colored hybrid was on the move once more to aid the other male. There had to be a way to get the Doberman off him. Large paws slid in the mud as his body shifted and angled itself. Finally, his head shot up , jaws reaching out to take hold of the delicate flesh that helped vibrations of sounds flood into the Dobermans ear canal. The shepherds words rang in Fell's ears, to protect and serve. What kind of dog was he, a service dog? A question that perhaps would be answered in the future. Fell was left to wonder though, for the time being. More important things were at hand then the reason of which that the other dog protected him. Survival was the only thing that Fell was worried about at the moment.

[»Rie]

Despite the immediacy of the situation part of Junius' mind tracked through memories and thoughts, thrusting them forward into the eye of his mind with all the delicacy of a traumatized pups squalling; that comparison was more revealing than Junius wanted to dwell on. Yet, despite the fact that he didn't want to think about it his mind chased the train of thought on it's own, and Junius was carried along without his consent.

Villain, some would call him; but what was a villain really, but a being whose opinion stood opposite your own? Would it not be true to say, that to some the doberman was the hero of this sordid little tale? Perhaps, that was stretching things a bit to far, after all even villains had motive, and Junius did not. Heroes and Villains had rhyme and reason to the things they did, the acts they committed. Junius had lost all of that a long time ago.

Junius, like all creatures had been born pure and innocent... For all of a few seconds before he came into contact with the disgusting mess that littered the floor of his mothers cage. His first seconds of life had been filled with the blood and birth fluid of nature, but also the unnatural grime of stale feces and urine. It had, perhaps, been an omen for what awaited him in the world; and sometimes in the pale hours of dawn he would wonder what had become of his siblings. Had they ended up just as twisted and broken as he, or was Junius simply special. Junius liked to fathom himself special, it was better than thinking himself worthless, after all. He, who had escaped the grasping clutches of death multiple times. By all rights, this dog should be long departed. Sometimes he wondered if, because of this, he could not be touched by death; indestructible, invincible, immortal. Did he push so far, push so long and hard as if to test this insane theory? Perhaps, he didn't even know even within his own spider web of a mind.

The sound of squelching flesh reverberated through his ears, and entered his mind as if from a distance; it was all far beyond the realm he dwelt within, caught up in the intricacies of his own mind. His teeth slid into pure muscle, and blood spurted in small geysers as vessels and veins exploded; torn and destroyed by the clamping of Junius' jaw, his teeth sliding in. He released minutely shoving his nose further into the tear to clamp down again, repeatedly; like he was working to get a better hold and tear of a sizable, eatable chunk. Blood rained, turning the churning mud into a mixture of blood, earth, and deteriorating refuse. Faintly, as if from a distance he felt teeth clamping into the base of his neck, nearly the same area he currently held the shepherd. Idly he wondered what they looked like: strange mirrors of each other: The Protector and the Attacker.

Whisked away on the torrent of thought, as blood poured like fine wine down his throat Junius recalled the dying of his soul. Being trapped in a cage had killed him inside, turning him into a hopeless shell, the walking dead. He felt nothing, and the darkness of unconsciousness was always a blessing. He supposed it was his own fault, that he'd ended up in that tiny cage. After all was, one of the creeds of the dog 'Don't bite the hand that feeds you'? He'd done that, more like he'd mauled the hand. What if's were a dream that Junius didn't often partake in, he found them an exercises in futility. What if he hadn't been temperamental, and therefore hadn't attempted to bite the man; he'd never have ended up in the cage, and might have kept his mind, his soul, in tact. Maybe, maybe not.

Then, of course, he'd ended up with The Master, when rightfully he should have died; injected with the bliss of death that the humans controlled. Humans, he wondered sometimes, were like gods. They controlled life and death; and Junius was like Lucifer rebelling against God, and being cast down for it again and again; denied what he wanted. The Master in the large house, the manor house, the rich Master with the Special Room. The Room where those who displeased The Master were taken to be shown the error of their ways. The Master was a sadistic man, and after he had acquired Junius he'd been pleased. He'd gotten the crazed half-dead doberman to protect his property, but an idea had bloomed in his head when he'd seen how violently Junius reacted to humans.

The Special Room smelled of fear, and urine, and feces, and stale blood, and new blood. It reminded Junius of the place where he was born; he hated it. It drove him to slathering like a rabid beast. The first time he'd been in the room he'd tried to get at The Master's throat, they'd learned after that and built a chain-link cage. He was herded in through a small door, from then on; like a tiger in a zoo. Usually there was a human in there. Humans squealed like pigs when they were blooded. Perhaps Junius should have turned away, instead of attacking them like The Master wanted, perhaps he could have saved some part of himself from the entropy that already consumed him. He hadn't though, and with the taste of them on his tongue he'd not been able to go back. Raw, bloody meat became his staple; he was feral, a feral pet; a pet feral. Ironic, really.

The doberman pressed forward, lifting one hind paw minutely to drag in forward, straining against the German shepherd he was locked with. The muscles all along his body bunched and strained, as he pressed his weight up and forward. The mud was slick and gooey beneath his paws, and he flexed his toes in an attempt to find purchase in the soupy mess. His breath snorted in great heaves from his nostrils, even as the shepherd's blood tried to clog his nasal passages; it didn't help that one of them was clotting slightly from his own bloody nose. His muscles burned with the decrease of available oxygen, and his nerves twanged, telling him about the aches and pains in his body. His brain, coldly shut out the pain, and diverted oxygen flow as needed. Numbed by the failure of his own mind to receive full recognition of the screaming in his own body, Junius pressed forward, sinking his teeth into the shepherd. The hair raising feeling of tooth scraping bone crawled over his spine.

The answer to his odd inquiry came to him, filled with the scent of his own blood as it tainted the lips of his opponent. However, before Junius could formulate a response, or even free his jaws to give it a rapid flash fire of pain doused the length of his spine as the hybrid dogs teeth tore into the tender flesh at the base of his ear, the back of his skull. His jaws clenched down further in a spasmodic reaction to the pain in such a delicate area, and with a raging, bellowing snarl the doberman released his hold and reared back ripping the tender flesh as he pulled harshly away from the hybrid's grip, over balancing himself and falling back wards. His legs still clamped around the black shepherd's rib cage. His back slammed into the muddy soil, and he immediately coiled his hind legs up to kick out at the black dog on the off chance that he remained atop him.

The doberman lay in the mood, panting heavily, his sides heaving, and his fore legs curled over his chest, the top of his head pressed into the mud. He almost looked like someones happy pet lounging in silly repose on the lawn. The chain that dangled from his studded collar draped along the side of his neck, the silver metal smeared with dark mud. Kicking a hind leg slightly he rolled his weight to the side, pressing his fore paws into the thick sludge and levering his front half up, his back remained resting on one hip. A long pink, blood and saliva patterned tongue dangled from his jaws as he heaved in air. He houghed, snorting heavily through his nose in an attempt to clear his air ways of the blood that was congealing in them. His sharp gaze flickered over, searching for the black shepherd, "Protect and Serve?" He echoed in a monotonous voice, almost as though the words tasted unusual on his palate; a strange and alien concept.

Suddenly a wicked curled appeared in the Doberman's muzzle and he hefted himself to his paws, idly favoring the fore paw that the hybrid had torn into earlier; though it was without any real indication of pain, as though he felt nothing but an echo. Grimly his blood stained teeth flashed as he regarded them, head tilted to the side in a mockery of innocence; would they see now the shred of truth, the lies: Would these two understand the horror of the monster they faced, that this was no senseless rabid beast; would they be terrified in the face of reality? "A deal, maybe?" He drawled, wondering. "If one of you smites the other, I'll let you walk away without further touch of fang, nor claw." He offered, almost cheerfully in his morbid amusement.

[Noodle!]

Interlaced like vampiristic lovers, the two dark dogs were clinging to each other, arms entwined around their bodies, with their fangs nuzzling into the other’s neck. The Doberman’s teeth released and shut like some stubborn trap and continued to tear shreds and chunks of his flesh; nose burying almost lovingly into the meat that exposed itself beneath the black fur. Kavok’s eyes fluttered closed and he moaned as his jaws tingled from the force he was making them inflict on his target. His own arteries spewed blood into his eyes, and those red tears flowed down the crevasses in his fur to intermingle with that of the Doberman’s. Blood was running down Kavok’s throat in a gentle stream, burning like a strong drink as it coursed to the pit of his stomach. There was a crunch, a grinding in his shoulder and he knew that teeth had struck his shoulder bone. A whimper escaped his maw; he was mortal still yet.

Blood clogged his nostrils and his throat as he slung his head side-to-side, trying to rip bits from the dog’s neck. He released for a moment, hacking a cough. It sent a thick spray of blood and chunks of flesh flying forwards like crimson bats, where they plastered themselves to the faces of his ally and enemy. He returned his clasp to the Doberman’s neck and felt a slight bump as the pale dog came to his rescue once again. Teeth latching onto the Doberman’s head, he sighed in relief, but quickly felt the three attached dogs tumbling to the mud. There was a strange sound as they landed, a sort of squish. They sank into the mud and everyone released their hold on the other. For a split second, they were peaceful, heaving on the ground with ragged breaths. Kavok made a lunge for the throat, but at that same time he was lifted.

He was balanced for a moment on the back legs of the smooth-coated dog, before being flung some distance away. He somersaulted in the air, trying desperately to twist himself into a position where he would not land on his injured shoulder, for his feet finding the dirt was not an option. He landed ideally, on his uninjured side with a thud and a slosh of mud and debris. His maw sank into the muck, his tongue lolling out in fatigue. He could taste the cocktail of mud, rainwater, trash, blood, droplets of urine, bird feces, and sweat from the three gladiators’ paws. He staggered to his feet, shaking violently as if he’d suffered some sort of nerve problem. His saliva dripped heavily, forming a marbled pattern in the dark mud that his paws were sinking into.

At the Doberman’s words, his heaving breaths turned into a raspy voice, I am not allowed to negotiate with the criminals. He swallowed a lump forming in his throat, threatening to release the chunky vomit his stomach was producing due to the pain he felt. Yellow fluid dripped from underneath him and his eyes were fogged. The pup could not hold out against the more experienced opponent. It was not something that could happen without outside interference. He wasn’t even sure if the pale dog could help him take out the Doberman. He had no desire to kill this demon, but what else could he do? Fight until his owner came out? This storm either meant the police officer would return quickly or that he would wait out the rain. He hoped it would be the first possibility. The longer he waited, the less dog he would have when he did come outside.

Kavok coughed, stomach heaving and lips pulled away from his teeth as he gagged lightly, nearly throwing up. He shook it off, turning his eyes back up at the black beast before nodding at the wolf-dog, Let the civilian go. He moved himself to the hybrid before advancing on the Doberman again. He began a serious of crescents in front of him, stance unthreatening now that the dog was talking to him. His eyes took in the sight now in full-color, trying to figure out what he was going to do. His body screamed for them to stop, cried for mercy.

The sounds of moans, panting, growls, and gasps were intensified in his ears; as if the world were on the bottom of a mason jar. Here the audience would lean forwards in their seats, clenching their arm rests with white knuckles. It was the climax of the battle, the time when the fates of the players on the stage would be decided. Who would prevail? Anyone? Would this game result in a tie? Kavok’s eyes continued to glaze in a slimy film of pain and the threat of unconsciousness. Just moments ago he had been asleep under the car, drowning in pleasantly erotic dreams. And now he felt as though he were on the brink of death.

And when the lights all went out, we watched our lives on the screen. I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene.

[fell]

A feeling of near helplessness flooded into the hybrid as the scene played before him. The shepherd was getting torn to shreds all for jumping in the way and protecting him. It was such a selfless act, and Fell really had no idea why a creature would ever do such a thing. With each second that ticked by, blood was flowing freely from wounds in both the creatures. While the Villain seemed completely unaffected, it was easy to recognize the fact that the black shepherd was failing in defending himself. There were more wounds in him than in the Doberman, end of story.

The birds of prey that scavenged were watching eagerly as the blood poured onto the earth. The raven let out a scream, jumping into the air and swooping down only to land on a pile of trash just feet from the fight. Its dark eyes watched every movement, waiting for a bit of meat to drop from a dog. Nearby, a stray cat slipped through the trash as quiet as ever. Its fur was matted, caked with mud from the storm, and oil from sleeping under a car dyed its orange fur black at the feet. Its amber eyes locked onto the raven as it prowled, body lowering to the earth as it prepared to pounce. Retractable claws kneaded the wet earth, toes spreading as it tried to get a good grip on the wet earth. Suddenly it pounced, forepaws landing on the ravens back and shoving it into the pile of trash, smothering it in the decaying who-knows-what beneath it. It took a mere second for the ravens’ neck to be snapped, and the cat began dragging the large bird along. Silently, the cat thanked the dogs for giving her such an easy fast to feed her and her kittens.

Survival of the fittest, a lesson well learned by the cat, that’s what it was. As she watched, she knew that the fittest between the dogs was the Doberman. The hybrid, try as he might, couldn’t get the Doberman off of the black dog. The black dog was half dead, it seemed. Surely, more scavenging animals would arrive soon to pick up the remains of the dog after it passed on. The ants would rejoice, so would the ravens, hawks, and the other creatures that all lived around the waste. A dog would definitely taste better than most of the trash that was decaying around them. Every now and then, a gift was given to them from the heavens. Perhaps this would be a gift given to them by god. First he had blessed them with the rain, and now a free meal? The inhabitants of the waste center wouldn’t complain today.

Perhaps thinking things through wasn’t a strong point of Fell’s after all. Surely, biting down on such tender skin would get the other dog to yelp and release its grip. That’s what most people would figure, after all. Attack a weak point and an animal would be harmed, cry out, and release whatever it was holding on to. Well that was unless that animal was dead set on holding on, even if it meant being killed themselves. As his jaws closed on the tender ear, he felt the other males jaws tighten on the black shepherd momentarily, before releasing his grip on the black shepherd. Fell could only quietly thank himself that the plan had worked, because it meant that no more damage would be done on the black shepherds shoulder, at least for the moment. Suddenly he felt the Doberman jerk his head away, and the ear slid out of Fell’s jaws. More metallic flavor spilled his taste buds as the ear was torn away harshly.

Then the feeling of falling came, as his body was dragged down by a pull of gravity along with the two other males. Mixture of water, mud, and blood was sprayed everywhere as the three landed on the earth. Fell’s body fell to the earth, landing half in mud, and half in a puddle of a mixture of dirty water and blood. No matter the outcome of the battle, there was one thing in store for Fell if he walked away from the fight. A trip to a vet, and the groomer to clean his long pelt of all the blood and caked mud that was now clinging to the underside of his belly and all his limbs.

The massive chest of the dog heaved in and out, his breathing irregular as he shifted his limbs underneath his body. Slowly, the male staggered to his feet, the fall throwing off his balance slightly. The jaws of the hybrid opened, pink flesh rolling out of the corner of his jaws and dripping saliva. The saliva fell to the earth, mixing in with the blood, mud, and water that was already swimming together. His toes separated as the mud squished in between them, trying to find a hold on the earth to balance his weight on.

Large ears lifted, tilting to the side as the Doberman’s voice rang out, breaking the peaceful silence that had fallen over the three dogs momentarily. It sounded as though what the black shepherd had said was foreign to him, almost as if he didn’t understand the concept. Would such a dog understand it? Fell had no idea what was going through the Dobermans mind, let alone what he understood and knew. There was one thing that he knew couldn’t exist in such a creatures emotional range. The ability to be compassionate to another dog, and to love someone else besides himself, it couldn’t be something the dog could comprehend or feel.

It was something that put himself and Kavok above the other dog, in a sense. They had a will to live on; they had a reason for existing in the world. Then a new question arose in the dogs head as he thought about it. Was this dog a stray? Judging by the collar and chain, he had to come to the conclusion that he was owned. Or at least, he had been owned at one point. Obviously, the dog was an escaped convict now, out and free to do whatever he wanted. It was dangerous for the rest of the world to have a crazed dog on the loose. Whoever was stupid enough to let the dog escape needed to be evaluated themselves and heavily fined for letting a dangerous creature roam the streets, or even exist for that matter. Where was the dog catcher when he was needed? The guy was probably in his office, shoving a glazed doughnut in his mouth and drinking some hot coffee.

It was obvious that Fell was owned as well, though. The collar around his neck only proved such, and the fact that he was normally well groomed. A trip to the groomers helped him look his best, always. He had a family to protect, with a little girl that loved him dearly. Was it the same for the black shepherd? The black vest he wore showed that he was owned, yes, but by who? His words made him sound like a protector of the peace, like one of the fat guys that went around in the shiny cars and got rid of the bad people in the world. Maybe he was owned by one of those guys? In that case, the other dog had just as much of a reason to live on as Fell did. The will to live was strong in Fell, but with such injuries in the other dog, was his as strong as Fells?

Fell’s dark eyes looked over at the black shepherd, then to the Doberman as he spoke once more, now of a deal. Now the whole thing was being turned into a game, but the question was, would the other dogs play? Fell didn’t feel up to it, and he wasn’t about to put further damage onto the other male. The male looked half dead at this point, and thus, he was allowing emotions to get the better of him. Fell could see the fear that was taking hold of the shepherd as he hung onto the last threads of life. It would be so easy to finish off the other dog, just a snip at the neck and he could walk away and return home to his family. It was tempting, and the male took a step foreword, before he got a hold of his emotions and shoved the idea into the far reaches of his mind. It was his fault the dog was nearly dead. It wouldn’t be fair to finish him off and take his life. Fell took another step, placing his body in front of the black shepherds, dark eyes staring coldly at the Doberman. ”I’m not going anywhere.” He snapped, shooting down the other shepherds wish to the Doberman quickly.

This was the part of the film where the people clung to their friends, eyes widened as they held their breath. Watching, and waiting for the next move. Would the Doberman attack, and would the undertaker get his turn at tearing up the Doberman? Or would the Doberman get bored, and walk away? The climax of the fight had arrived.