Chapter Text
Clouds swarmed the dark sky, shielding the city from the moon’s eternal gaze. The night’s embrace was humid, the ground holding remnants of long-gone rain. Silence coiled its fingers around the streets— save for the pawsteps of one measly fox. His white and brown fur appeared to glow under the warm lighting of the street lamps, the perfect marble pattern only broken by faint traces of stark red blood.
He should know better, sauntering around that sweet, enticing scent so close to the town square. There were threats around these parts, predators not even a canine like him could surpass. Maybe he was uneducated, oblivious to the danger this side of town… It made no difference to the creatures in the dark.
It came from an alleyway: a clatter, a drop, a shuddering shadow. The fox —too gullible, too naive— paused in his tracks, ears held high. His nose twitched as he entered the tight space, eyes squinting at the dark. He innocently drew closer, blissfully unaware of the hunter sniffing him out.
His nose only grazed the shadows before a white figure leapt out, yowling and scrambling past him. A cat. Not one bipedal, as he was, but quadrepedal; feral. It was a scare, but a small welcome one.
The figure standing at the entrance, however, was not as enjoyable.
They seemed to be a rabbit at first glance, but with the pointed ears, square face, and slim eyes… a hare? Either way, they didn’t look very friendly, not when their pupils were blown wide, their eyes were an unnatural yellow, and their snout dripped thick drool. They almost looked entranced….
No — hungry.
The fox trembled.
“Hey man… You — you lost?” There was no response. When paired with the heavy atmosphere, the quiet suddenly felt suffocating. “...If you’re hurt, I know a nice clinic that’ll help you out!”
A deep, guttural growl rippled through the air. It sent tremors up his spine, ears pinned against his bristled fur. A deep instinctual flame sparked beneath his skin. It was not safe here, not when one of them was here.
The anomaly lunged first, its false jaw unhinging with a disgusting crack—its teeth elongating into sharp needles that barred its long, pointed tongue. The fox was faster, scrambling out of the way with a loud gekker. He blindly swung at it, claws raking against its side as he dashed to the exit.
The thing screeched, and for a moment he was sure he’d won.
Right until a large force rammed into him from behind, and something sharp pierced through his arms and neck. He screamed as pain ripped through him, bleeding into his bones and blood and thoughts, and gods, it burned. He writhed in agony as the growls behind his head grew in volume, claws snagging on jagged cement.
Please, not tonight. Not like this!
The anomaly didn’t bite until he died, didn’t give him a natural, intended demise, no. It hooked its teeth on his shoulder’s fur and pulled. He could feel it all: his skin swiftly tearing apart as he was ripped into like a piece of meat. It didn’t even eat it, not with the fur on— instead, it threw the flesh aside and repeated the process, over and over again.
Until the body beneath it went quiet, and it could finally eat in peace.
— — —
The body was half mutilated when Intern snapped out of it, leaning to the side as his stomach lurched. His throat filled with fire as he choked his food prey back up, jaw slowly pulling itself back with every gurgling cough. Blood, half-chewed organs —was that a bone?— It slipped from his jaws and splattered down with his tears.
When their stomach was emptied and their throat bone (don’t mention bones, not now) dry, they reeled back. Sobs grew into wails as they unlatched themself from the corpse, shuffling back until they pressed against a wall. They whined, pressing a paw against their mouth as they heaved. The gore in the corner of their eye seemed to mock them.
“I’m sorry — I didn't mean to, I'm sorry…” He pleaded with nothing, curling into a ball and sniffling. He felt sick, disgusted. He never meant to hurt anyone; he was just so hungry…
They didn’t choose this. They never wanted to be an anomaly, but you can’t choose your path in this life. They were forever stuck as a beast, forever trapped in skin that wasn’t theirs. One day they’d get discovered, one day they’d look into the barrel of a gun, and that would be the last thing they see—
“Intern?” He flinched, jerking his head toward the entrance alleyway. There, Nurse stood, Secret Agent by her side. She looked horrified— of course she did; he was revolting. Agent, on the other hand, looked eerily calm.
Of course he did, Intern, loved bothering him. He'd probably been searching for a reason to get rid of the pest annoying him day after day.
They choked on their spit, scrambling to their feet as they backed further into the alleyway. Both paws hid their mouths, as though they weren’t tainted with the same blood. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to, I was just hungry, and I couldn’t control it because I haven’t eaten in so long—” They struggled to make excuses, to justify the crime they committed. In the end, it was all the same, wasn’t it?
There was no saving him. Anomalies don’t deserve grace, as stated by Dr. Harlow.
Nurse stepped forward, hands reaching out even as they recoiled. Agent placed a paw on her shoulder, holding her back. He leaned down, mumbling something into her ear, before pushing her behind him. She stared as though he’d grown two heads.
“I should’ve known. You’ve always smelt a little off.” Agent grumbled, slipping out his gun. Intern sobbed, suddenly realizing that this was the end— this was the last memory he’d have of his friends.
Nurse swallowed, eyes shifting from predator to prey. But who was who in this situation?
“Please…” The anomaly begged, “I won’t cause any problems, I’ll stop eating I—”
A click cut them off. The gun had been loaded. Secret Agent glared, pointing the barrel straight at their head. “Unfortunately, my contract states I must eliminate any anomalies that pose a threat to me and/or Animal Hospital’s staff.” His tail lashed harshly, lips drawn up into a snarl. “That includes you.”
“He’s no threat.” Finally, Nurse stepped in, paw curling around Agent’s sleeve. “He was just hungry.”
“It’s a threat.” He hissed, eyes still trained on Intern. Yet, Nurse could see the way his arms trembled, the way he hesitated to pull the trigger. He gestured with his head towards the body on the ground. “Just look what happened to him.”
She inhaled, her heart wrenching as she stared at what could’ve been a patient had it not been for Intern. Still, she stood in their defense. “What will the others think? What will you think, once the kid you grew attached to is dead?”
…
Agent lowered the gun, teeth digging into his tongue. He stared at Intern, actually bothered to see him. The trembling, the guilt, the tears. The twisted innocence. He really was just a kid.
He sighed. “Hospital, now.”
“Thank you— thank you, I promise I’ll do better!”
“Don’t thank me yet; you very well may die.”