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Well, here's the beginning to a new story. It's not finished, but I have enough to make a few posts. Feel free to subscribe to it since it may be a while between segments.
The story will begin momentarily with a new post...
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1.
âFive-Six! Take that, you leaf-nosed Diablo!â
Jake, a large ebony genetic cross between human and bat, took the puck from the tray and looked at Phil with a challenging gleam in his eye, one that would make anyone check for tacks on their seat after receiving it. He began a side-to-side drift, staging his attack. Phil reseated his pony tail of dirty blond hair, stroked his beard narrowed his eyes. He grabbed his mallet with his right hand and lifted his left hand in the air as if he was in a fencing match. Out of the corner of his eye Phil caught Chris smiling over the top of the comic book he was reading, the latest issue of BloodWing. Jake served the puck with a straight attack. The machine-gun tapping of the puck was accompanied by the old-fashioned stereo, playing a variety of very old pop songs.
Jake attacked with a left bank shot, which was a cheap attempt at placating Philâs vigilant guard. Jake made several other attempts on varied angles and finally attacked with a left straight cut. Phil intercepted control with a direct charge against the attack. He aimed poorly, however, and the puck ricocheted off the back and left walls. Phil caught the puck, began a diamond drift, and finally used a chase game along the left wall. Jake fell for the tactic. Phil banked the shot off the left wall, around Jakeâs mallet and into the goal.
âHa! Six all, match point,â Phil declared. âTold you Iâve been practicing.â
Jake hung his head in defeat of his defense, but with a smile nonetheless. He retrieved the puck and began a tap drift.
Keep this up and weâll put you in the tournaments, Jake broadcasted telepathically.
âYeah, right: like Iâd last two matches with those guys,â Phil replied.
âYou probably would, actually,â Chris encouraged him, âas long as they donât know about your weakness.â
âWhat weakness?â Phil inquired as he blocked a straight shot.
Chris held up the comic book he was reading. âAva Townsend,â he said.
Suddenly Phil received a mental image of Ava Townsend leaning over in her low-cut Bloodwing costume. At that same moment Jake attacked with a bank shot which went directly into the goal, ending the match. Phil shook off the distraction, realized what happened, and verbally protested.
âYou nasty little cheat!â he said to Jake, who was smiling widely and deviously. Phil looked at Chris. âBoth of you! Little nasty little cheatses!â
âHey, I only mentioned her,â Chris defended.
âOh, that is such a load of bull! You gave him the idea to plug the image in my head and you know it! That pose was from issue eight, not the movie!â
But it sure looked good with Ava in that pose, didnât it? Jake sent.
Phil recalled the image in his mind and smiled. âYeahâŠâ He said reminiscently, and then shook off the distraction. âWaitaminute â Jake, I thought you didnât play with peopleâs minds like that?â
Jake shrugged. Iâm not above using an advantage when the situation could endure it, and when Iâm desperate. And he smiled his devious grin.
Phil smiled as well, accepting the obscure compliment.
The door to the game room opened and in walked Shannon. She immediately frowned and walked to the stereo. Instead of turning down the volume she turned off the power completely, then spun around and looked at the three men in the room.
âWhy do you have to play this crap so loud?â she asked.
âBecause we want to,â Phil answered.
âBecause we want to,â Chris repeated.
Phil, Chris and Jake exchanged smirks, knowing they were quoting a previously played song. All three looked at Shannon innocently. Shannon began to give them her famous annoyed look, but sighed and looked at the wall to her left for a moment. She then directed her attention to Jake.
âGareth just called to check in. Heâs finished up in Idaho and wants to go to Europe for the Day of Relation, then heâll head over to Truugâs tribe. Marthaâs on her way to Britain, and Iâm going to meet Michelle and take her to see her family after mine. Rachel should be back tomorrow or the day after.â
Jake nodded. Jeroume is still on assignment for the next week, Kieshaâs on maternity, and Mom and Dad wonât be back for at least a week. Am I forgetting anyone?
âScott and Emily,â Chris announced.
âTheyâre visiting Emilyâs parents for the Day of Relation.â Phil reported. âScottâs not the family type when it comes to his parents. Personally I donât blame him.â
âAnd what about your family?â Chris asked.
âI couldnât get approval for visiting Serendipity. The Day of Relation is one of the worst times to try and get approval to visit an Isolation Colony.â
âMan, Iâm sorry.â
âAre you kidding? I get the run of the house with my two pseudo-stepbrothers! How freaking cool is that? My familyâs fine, Iâm sure. Iâll get to see them sooner or later.â
âYou donât get the run of the house,â Shannon contested. âJakeâs in charge. You do as he says.â
âYes, maâam,â Phil replied, accompanied with a halfhearted military salute.
Shannon narrowed her eyes at him. âSo help me, if you burn the place down while Iâm goneâŠâ
âDonât worry; I wouldnât do it without you,â Phil replied with an overly enthusiastic smile.
Shannon closed her eyes and sighed, then approached Jake and gave him a small hug. âTake care, little brother,â she said.
Jake smiled with tenderness as he responded in kind. He broke the embrace and looked at Shannon intently, no doubt engaging in a telepathic conversation as they often did. Suddenly Shannon smiled and laughed. She looked at him just as intently, and Jake displayed his devious grin. Chris looked at Phil, and Phil merely shrugged. It wasnât any of their business, no matter how curious they were.
Shannon nodded at Chris and then looked at Phil, who had his arms wide as if waiting for a hug from her.
âNot this time,â she said.
Phil lowered his arms and gave an insincere pout. He was well aware Shannon didnât show such affection to anyone but Jake, Julie, and Dad, but he couldnât pass up the opportunity. As Shannon left the room, the three friends exchanged glances. Department 118 was on hiatus for the Day of Relation, and tonight was guyâs night at Jakeâs place.
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Cool! A half bat, half human (sounds like a vampire...). Nice characterization here.
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Thanks Woolblood! In truth Jake is a genetic cross with a fisherman bat, so he doesn't feed off of blood but craves fish in all shapes, sizes and convections. You can read From the files of Department 118 Part One and Part Two For better understanding of the characters, but both parts are long and grueling. Be prepared for multiple sessions to get through it all.
Here's the next bit. It's kinda long, sorry about that, but it will finish setting the stage.
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It was once the largest warehouse in Culmna City, and ranked among the top ten on the West Coast. The original idea was to have the Maglev line go straight through it as a waypoint, but when the line was redirected closer to the coast, the building was liquidated. Before it was demolished Dad was put in as Overlord of Dep:118, and part of the deal for his taking the position was acquiring the warehouse. It was given a remodel and was now a place for Dad to put up his feet, and for Jake to stretch his wings.
Over three quarters of the massive interior was unused, kept clear for Jake to exercise his aerial skills while sheltered from Culmna Cityâs aggressive weather. Four large boxes hung from the ceiling, serving as different rooms. They were connected by a network of catwalks leading to a spiral staircase, a small lift, and a zipline for the adventurous. Phil got bored with the zipline after several visits.
Three areas of the floor were also sectioned off, serving as a kitchen, garage, and study. The rest of the vast floor was vacant and unfurnished, except near the base of the staircase and lift. In that area was a decoration of a living room without walls; there were a few recliners, two sofas, a coffee table and end tables, a vidphone, and a large monitor on its own stand. On one of the sofas across from the monitor sat Jake, Phil and Chris, munching on varied snacks as they watched an old B-rate film about a werewolf escaping from a prison. Well, Jake was trying to watch it, at least; Chris was listening to Phil complain about his former girlfriend, Melissa. She recently told him she couldnât handle Culmna City and she was going back to Romberg.
âIâm telling you, Chris, she found someone else.â
âYou donât know that for sure, Phil. Maybe she just needs some time away.â
Phil puffed an exhalation in disagreement. âIf that was true, she wouldnât be trying to find any fault she can in our relationship. Itâs a sure sign sheâs looking for a way out.â
âI donât knowâŠâ Chrisâ eyes trailed off toward Jake, who was intent on watching the film. He looked back at Phil. âHang on â you didnât have Jake scan her, did you?â
Jake looked up at the postulation. When Chris looked at him again Jake shook his head and used his index finger to cross his heart.
âTrust me; itâs a certain behavior Iâve learned about the female of my particular species,â Phil explained. âSo Iâve decided to take the old Dep:118 viewpoint: water off a duckâs back. Anyway, thatâs all there is to it. So now that you know can we drop the subject and get back to watching âVoyage to the Bottom of the Budgetâ?â
Jake laughed at the statement, almost losing control of the straw he was using to sip his soda. In the recent months the three had taken up the idea of watching werewolf movies to see if they were even the slightest bit accurate. The current choice could not be considered high quality, but it wasnât enough to justify Chrisâ lack of interest. He was usually at least as attentive as Jake, regardless of the filmâs quality. Come to think of it, Phil found it odd Chris would tone out the current film so easily.
âWhatâs the deal anyway, Chris? I thought youâd be more interested in the movie than my failing love life.â
Chris shrugged. âThis one is more about grotesque murders and sex scenes than werewolves. I lost interest a while back.â
Phil had to agree. The target audience was obviously fans of slasher films, not enthusiasts of lycanthropy. âThen how come you didnât let us know? We could have skipped it.â
âI was more interested in hearing what you had to say,â Chris admitted.
âAnd there was always the possibility it might get better, right?â
Chris huffed. âDoubtful; once I saw the first transformation, I knew it was a lost cause.â
âHow come?â
âItâs the same old thing.â Chris waved his hands in the air, mixing his cynicism with mockery. ââWoe is me; I might be a werewolf.â âWoe is me; I probably killed that victim on the news because Iâm a werewolf.â âWoe is me I might kill my love interest as a werewolf; oh, the humanity!â Suddenly they accept their fate as a âmonsterâ, attack their love interest, and get killed off just in time. And the movie ends with the love interest crying over their dead body. Blah.â
Phil watched Chris sink into the sofa with exasperation. He could understand his friendâs feelings on the subject, but did not agree with the explanation. Chris was evading his real concerns. Apparently Jake felt the same way.
That doesnât make any sense, Chris. None of the last few movies had that kind of synopsis. Whatâs really going on?
âYeah,â Phil said with an encouraging tone bordering on baby-talk. âWhatâs with the dark clouds overhead, gloomybear?â
Chris looked at Phil with obvious distaste for the mockery.
Phil relented. âReally, Chris; whatâs got you bothered?â
Chris sighed. âItâs just⊠itâs getting a little insulting, is all. These movies keep assuming a person would always become a monster, and would eventually submit to that fate. Itâs not true; they have a choice.â
Donât forget these movies are written by humans, not hybreed, and theyâre based on commercialized human folklore, Jake said.
âI know,â Chris conceded. âLook, Iâve been thinking about the Hybreed âlate bloomersâ weâve found and sent out to tribes for re-education. I donât see why none of them ever awaken to self-awareness on their own. They always submit to the whole âmindless raging beastâ theory, always on the night of a full moon. Itâs like they donât even try to explore other options.â
Phil sighed. âCome on, Chris; you really think they have other options?â
âI did,â Chris said, the matter-of-fact attitude ringing in his response.
âUh, no, you didnât,â Phil sang back.
âWhat?â
âYou didnât have other options. You invoked your first shift consciously. Granted, itâs a different experience from other late bloomers, but it wasnât like you had a choice to be self-aware or a mindless monster.â
Philâs right, Jake added. You were extremely fortunate. All the others have to go on are campfire stories and bad movies, and Jake gestured to the monitor to provide an example. When the full moon rises and their subconscious is aware of the shifting ability, it starts the shift automatically and their conscious mind recedes.
âI know how it works, Jake. But if I could figure out how to shift on my own, somebody out there should be able to figure it out too.â
âI donât think youâre looking at it right, Chris,â Phil offered.
Chris and Jake looked at him for more explanation.
âTruth is, buddy, you donât have any idea what itâs like for all the other late bloomers. Youâve always been in control from the beginning. They arenât. I mean, you have to admit you donât really have a frame of reference. I donât think you know what itâs like for them to go through something like that.â
Chris thought for a moment, humming as he pondered Philâs words. Phil decided to help out with a little description.
âJust picture it, Chris. Youâre walking home after a hard dayâs work. The full moon rises.â
Phil suddenly received the image of himself walking home at night from a hard dayâs work, and realized Jake was assisting their imaginations with envisioning the scene. He continued.
âSuddenly you get all hot and you donât know why. You feel excruciating pain in your gut, you double over, and then you black out. You wake up in your back yard naked and cold, extremely hungry, and lying in a bunch of fur. You see paw prints leading up to your position, but none leading away from it. Think of how confusing that would be. Imagine it happening repeatedly on every full moon. Sooner or later, youâd come to only one conclusion: youâre turning into a werewolf and you canât control it. Not only are your notions of reality challenged, but it means you canât stop yourself from doing whatever you might do in that form.â
Chris nodded in understanding, visualizing the scene with closed eyes and then opening them. âI can understand all of that. But personally, if it happened to me, Iâd try to explore any memories, try to keep conscious when it happens.â He sighed. âWhy doesnât anyone we find try stuff like that?â
Phil shook his head and shrugged. âI donât know. Maybe it has something to do with how the hybreed subconscious takes over. All I can say is, since you havenât been through what all the others go through, youâre gonna have a tough time relating to them.â
âGee, thanks,â Chris said derisively, rolling his eyes.
Phil raised his hands helplessly, cocking his head.
Jake consumed a sushi nacho messily, licking the cheese off his lips.
After a little more encouragement they tried another movie about a werewolf tycoon in New York City. Phil didnât like it any more than Chris. They decided to try getting some sleep in preparation for the next day. Jake flew off to his bedroom in one of the hanging boxes while Chris and Phil took separate sofas.
Last edited by Grayle (2009-08-21 23:08:09)
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2.
Phil awoke in the middle of the night to the sound of a thump. He frowned with disapproval, but nonetheless opened his eyes to gain his bearings. He saw nothing out of place. The recliners and monitor stood fast in their silence. The coffee table was off kilter, littered with snacks. He looked at the other sofa, and noticed Chris was not there. Slowly he sat up. His ears picked up the awkward sound of silent gagging, and rustling somewhere nearby. He leaned over the coffee table in the direction of the sound, looking toward the floor in front of the other sofa. There lay Chris on the floor, straining and convulsing.
No; he wasnât convulsing, he was shifting!
The realization of the sight awakened Phil. He didnât understand why Chris was changing but something about it didnât feel right. Chris winced in pain, his eyes barely open as his spine began to bubble and pop underneath his reddened skin. His mouth grew wide, exposing the fangs beginning to take form among his teeth. His hair was already growing in quantity, and the bulge of his tail was pushing through his sleep shorts.
Phil grabbed his shirt and donned it as adrenalin started to course through his veins; whatever was going on was not in the norm of transformation for Chris. There was no reason for it to happen in the middle of the night, unless he invoked it somehow. However, by now Chris would realize what was happening to him and either revoke the change or take a position on all fours to allow the change to finish more comfortably. He wouldnât be sprawling all over the floor like this.
Something was wrong.
âJake!â Phil called. âJake! Somethingâs wrong with Chris!â
After a few moments Phil found a foreign thought in his head.
Whatâs going on? was the thought from Jake.
âLook through my eyes,â Phil said aloud. He continued looking at Chris on the floor, his feet and hands now resembling digit grade paws and his face elongated to a muzzle.
Why is he shifting? Jake asked.
âJake, I donât think he meant to.â
What?
âI donât think he invoked the shift.â
From the corner of his eye Phil saw an ebony shadow dart out from the entrance to Jakeâs bedroom. Its large wings unfurled and adjusted its direction, bearing down on the location of Phil and Chris. By the time it landed Chris had risen to all fours and was breathing heavily, his chest heaving under a coat of chocolate fur, fully transformed to his hybreed state.
âChris?â Phil asked.
Chris looked at him, but his dark blue eyes were feral. Chris lowered his head and ears, and emitted a rumbling growl. His tail began to circle behind him, and his jowls rose to display his fangs.
Phil felt his eyes widen. He wasnât sure what was happening, but he knew a hybreed warning when he saw one. Ever so slowly he began to back away, putting his hands out to his sides. He avoided eye contact as much as possible, but when his foot bumped into the edge of the table he looked up at Chris with trepidation.
Chris began to charge.
Jake leaped in front of Chris and opened his wings to their full expanse. He shrieked a warning, the piercing sound ringing in Philâs ears. Chris stopped his charge and gave a short roar at Jake, but then retreated in the other direction at full speed. Jake folded his wings and turned to look at Phil.
You okay? Jake asked.
Phil nodded as he watched Chris run toward the edge of the warehouse. âWhat the heck is going on?â
Iâm not sure, Jake said as he looked in the same direction. I tried to contact Chris telepathically, but he wasnât there.
âYou got a voice message?â
Jake looked at Phil. His conscious mind wasnât there, Phil. Believe it or not I think heâs actually going through what other late bloomers go through.
âWhat? How?â
Jake looked down for a moment and looked again at Phil. Iâm thinking maybe the vision I gave him to augment your story is having a side effect. His subconscious mind is currently in control, and thereâs no telling how long it will last.
Phil shrugged. âThen I guess weâll just have to wait it out.â He discarded his concern with a wave of his hand. âAs long as we keep him locked up in the warehouse here, we got nothing to worry about.â
The sound of tearing metal echoed through the warehouse. In the far corner a bay door was torn open, letting in the growing wind and flashes of lightning from outside.
âSo much for that idea.â He looked again at Jake. âWhat now?â
His mind is currently driven by hybreed instincts, and possibly wolf instincts. If anything heâll avoid as many people as he can and run for the forest.
âHeâll be drawn to the Earthlife whether he knows it or not,â Phil added. âAt least his hybreed nature will stop him from being a mindless monster as well.â
Yes, but we still need to find him and get him back as soon as we can.
âWhy? Wonât he just come back when he reverts to his human form?â
I donât know if that will happen. His subconscious is now in control, and Chris knows even in his subconscious that his primary form is hybreed. He may not change back at all.
âWhich means his subconscious may never let go.â
Jake nodded. Itâs very possible; I donât have any way of knowing. Phil, if we donât find him, he may stay out there in the forest as a wild hybreed for the rest of his life.
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Phil paused in thought. âWell, conscious or not, heâll probably head to familiar grounds. We should get to the places you guys frequent in your little romps. Itâs times like this I wish I had a craft.â
Jake paused for a second, and then looked toward the garage. I think Dad would allow you to use his craft for a situation like this. Iâll go get the activator. Take the Segway over to the garage, and Iâll meet you there.
âDad actually has a craft?â Phil said, astonished. Dad kept a variety of secrets for a plethora of reasons, but as far as everybody in Dep:118 knew, Dad only possessed an old-fashioned ground-bound vehicle. He then snapped out of his bemusement, put his shoes back on and ran to the base of the stairs. Phil mounted the Segway parked at the base of the stairs and whisked away toward the garage.
It was given to him by the Empire for official use, Jake explained as he flew into one of the other hanging boxes, but heâs never used it. You know how Dad feels about flying.
Phil had forgotten. It was more than simple nostalgia which caused Dad to hold on to the ground-bound relic. Dad did not enjoy flying. It was very rare he would ever take the jet, in fact. With that in mind, it was no wonder he never used the craft.
Jake met him at the door to the garage and gave Phil the activator. It looked much like the activator to Shannonâs craft: a device in the shape of a tear drop with three buttons on it, fastened to a lanyard. Phil pressed the appropriate button and the craft activated, hovering less than a meter from the floor and opening the pilotâs door. Phil placed the lanyard around his neck, then turned and looked at Jake, who was opening the garage door.
âSo, where to?â He asked.
Jake sent him images of a certain location deep in the forest where Chris would habitually frequent. Jake could often find him or meet up with him in that location. Phil suddenly knew exactly where it was and how to get there.
Iâll be checking out some other spots first, but Iâll meet you there. Remember, donât get too close to him; he might attack if he feels threatened. Just keep tabs on him if you find him.
Phil nodded. âWell, here goes nothinâ,â he said, and climbed into the craft. He adjusted the seat and viewers, then piloted the vehicle into the blustery weather of Culmna City.
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It was neither as lavish nor as stable as Shannonâs craft, but Dadâs craft was rather maneuverable. If the situation was not so pressing, Phil might have taken the scenic route. Now was not the time for deviation, however. If Jake was right the livelihood of his friend was at stake, and Phil was not about to lose his best friend right after losing his girlfriend.
As he traveled to the target location, Phil inquired of the onboard computer about scanning options. The craft was limited to GPS reception and Imperial broadcasts. He tried to access the Imperial satellite network for further options, but to no avail. Once he got there, heâd have to get out and look around.
The wind was picking up, causing further difficulty to piloting the craft. Fortunately he was traveling north of the oncoming storm, so the rain and lightning became less of a concern. Another gust of wind caused the craft to jar from its intended course. An alert klaxon rang through the cabin to inform Phil of the need to stabilize the craft. He battled with the pilot wheel and once again gained control, adjusting the course to the proper direction.
âWhen this is said and done I swear Iâm getting him microchipped,â he complained, and turned off the blaring alert.
Phil landed the craft in the specified location. He took a moment to look through the rear compartments for anything useful. He found a large LED torch, a thermal jacket, and some stale nutrition bars. He donned the jacket, pocketed the bars and exited the craft, closing the pilotâs door behind him. Once outside he turned on the torch and scanned the area. There was no immediate indication of Chrisâ presence. Then again, considering how fast Phil was flying, he may have gotten there even before Chris did.
He hiked in the direction of a crevasse, one which stuck out as common in the images Jake provided him. The jagged stone edges turned the windâs voice into a howl, but also provided shelter at certain angles. They proved useful as the wind focused its intensity while being funneled through the landmark. Phil was nowhere near as adept as Chris in tracking skills, but attempted to find any tracks nonetheless. The ground proved too rocky for any assurances. He doubled back to the trees and began to scan the ground. Soon he found possible tracks of a hybreed, but could not tell their age.
With growing frustration Phil sprayed the surrounding trees with light from the torch from left to right. He passed the light across two large cedars which stood out from the rest of the trees. Suddenly Phil thought he noticed a shadow dance over the horizon to his left. He brought the torchlight back to the area, but saw nothing among the swaying trees. He decided to check for tracks just in case.
Sure enough, Phil found hybreed tracks leading back toward the crevasse. His hope revitalized, Phil trotted toward the crevasse, periodically checking the tracks were still guiding him there.
Phil stood at the mouth of the crevasse, peering into the nooks of the rocky shelves for any sign of his furry friend. Up ahead about thirty meters the Crevasse forked in two directions. When Phil looked down the right fork, he saw something moving amongst the darkness. For fear of frightening whatever was there, he decided to hold off shining the torch down the way and pointed it toward the ground. Step by cautious step he approached, all the while trying to get a definitive view of what hid in the shadows.
âChris?â he called out. âChris, is that you? Can you understand me?â
The moving form stopped moving, but Phil could not make out any determinate sound over the wind. He held up his left hand.
âIâm just gonna shine a light toward you. Chris, if thatâs you, I donât mean any harm.â Phil thought about the statement and added another condition for good measure. âIf thatâs not you, I donât mean any harm either.â
Phil directed the torchlight into the darkness. The light shone upon a hybreed with brown fur crouching in the corners of the crevasse. It looked directly at Phil. Suddenly its ears lowered, as did its head, and it bared its teeth.
âAw, crap,â Phil exclaimed.
The hybreed charged at him with amazing speed. Before it made contact, however, it twitched, as if it was stuck by a thorn in a sensitive area. The hybreed slowed its charge. It twitched again, and this time yelped in pain. It gave Phil one more look and then reversed its course, running further down the crevasse. It leaped up the wall of rocky shelves and over the top. Suddenly Phil heard a voice from the top of the crevasse, a few meters from where he stood.
âJake, heâs on the move. You got him?â
Iâve got him, Phil heard in his mind. Sorry about not telling you, Phil. I was trying another attempt to get through to Chris. Rachel got back early and I had her meet us here.
Phil nodded, conceding to the information. He looked up toward the top of the crevasse and found Rachel Blackwood looking down with him with contempt, holding a tranquilizer gun in her right hand. Obviously she had shot Chris with a couple of darts, which caused him to forego his attack. She pointed to a low area in the wall of the crevasse. Phil walked to the area and Rachel helped him climb up to the top. Once he finished his climb and stood on his own, Rachel faced him directly.
âYou never approach a cornered hybreed without backup or escape, idiot.â
âNice to see you too,â Phil replied, sarcasm intended. âAnd it wasnât just a hybreed, it was Chris.â
âHe wasnât acting like Chris, and you know it. What the hell were you thinking?â
Phil stared at her with conviction. âIs that a trick question?â
Rachel sighed with annoyance and crossed her arms. The wind aggressively blew her hair behind her head, bringing stark focus to her Native American features. Though her beauty was undeniable, her attitude soured any attraction Phil may have had toward her.
Phil sighed, and relented. âOkay, maybe it was a dumb thing to do, but there was a chance he might have recognized me.â
âOr disemboweled you.â
Phil hardened his expression. âEither way, my choice.â
Thatâs enough, Jake broadcasted. Go to your corners, both of you. Phil, head back to the building and get a cell ready. No arguments. Rachel, bring that craft you rented over here. Iâll hold Chris on the roof while you fly us to the building.
Phil and Rachel continued to stare at each other.
Now, Children!
They broke the stare. Phil made his way to Dadâs craft and piloted it to the headquarters of Dep:118, grumbling only a third of the way.
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3.
On the lowest level of the building which housed Dep:118 headquarters were half a dozen holding cells with old-fashioned sets of bars dividing them. Since Dep:118 was not a high priority in the Empire, older and less expensive materials were used in construction of their needs. The cells were made to contain any unruly subjects they found in their investigations and studies. Unfortunately, Chris had become one such subject. An adjacent corridor connected the cells, and had only one large heavy door, thereby restricting access as well as possibilities for escape.
Jake had carried Chris into the second cell, placing him on the floor. After he exited Rachel closed the cell door and locked it with a thumb print on the attached scanner. Phil watched from in front of the heavy door, leaning against it.
There on the floor of the holding cell lay a sleeping hybreed, looking so peaceful and quiet; yet Phil looked upon the hybreed with mixed feelings. It was wild to the point of being savage, yet still his best friend had to be in there somewhere. There had to be a way to get him back. If he knew where to begin he would have already started, but this situation was more within Rachel and Jakeâs expertise.
Rachel retrieved a seat modified for Jakeâs use. She placed it in front of the second cell. Jake sat down and sighed, peering at the cell occupant, analyzing the situation. Finally he lowered his head.
This might take quite a while, Jake announced to Rachel and Phil telepathically.
âHow come?â Phil asked.
Rachel began the explanation. âA hybreedâs brain changes form just like their body does. Even their mind changes.â
Iâve been in Chrisâ mind while in his hybreed form plenty of times, Jake added, but I only interacted with his conscious mind. In all the places Iâd usually find it Iâm only finding his subconscious, and itâs primal. Iâm going to have to scan deeply to try to find him.
Phil nodded. âAnd his being unconscious isnât going to help any either, Iâll bet.â
Jake snapped his fingers and pointed at Phil, indicating he understood the challenge correctly.
âJake is going to have to search every nook in his head,â Rachel added. âFor hybreed or human, thatâs a lot to go through.â
âLet me guess: needle in a haystack?â
Both Jake and Rachel nodded.
Phil sighed. âFigures it couldnât be easy. Anything I can do to help?â
Silence, Jake answered. And some coffee would be nice.
Philâs eyes widened with disbelief. âYouâre kidding; you want me to be the coffee boy?â
Jake shrugged. This is going to take a while, Phil, and I only got a few hours sleep.
With a nod of agreement, Phil conceded to the point. He left for the break room upstairs.
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Once reaching the break room Phil took a bag of coffee beans from the cupboard and poured it into the appropriate channel of the coffee maker. The maker began the automatic action of grinding the beans and adding hot water for the brewing. Within moments a trickle of coffee began making its way into the pot, and the aroma of fresh java permeated the air.
Phil began thinking of the situation. They had found Chris and retrieved him, but now the real work began. Jake previously explained to him that finding information in a human mind was complicated enough. But a hybreed mind was like a different world, with a different language, culture, climate and landscape all in the individualâs head. And now his friend was stranded somewhere in that different world, with only a genetic cross of man and bat flying over the landscape looking for him, calling his name.
It was always possible Chris himself may find his own way back. He might even be fighting for control as Jake continued his scans. Perhaps Jake would find a giant âHELPâ sign built out of rocks on the side of a hill in Chrisâ head or something. Whatever the case, Phil could not help but feel responsible for the situation. It was his suggestion for Chris to consider what other late bloomers went through. Sure, there was no way to predict consequences like this, but if he kept his mouth shut in the first place it never would have happened.
âYouâre not making just one cup, are you?â Rachel asked from behind him.
Phil woke from his musings and looked at her. Rachel had her arms crossed, as she often did, and stood leaning her shoulder against the threshold of the break room door.
âHuh? No; Iâm making a full pot. Why, want some?â
âIt would be nice, but I was thinking you could use some too.â
Phil huffed derisively. âYou were thinking of me? Thatâs gotta be a first.â
Rachel took a few steps closer as she unfolded her arms. She slid the fingers of her right hand into the front pocket of her jeans, and let her left arm hang. She looked at Phil with as much softness as her rock-hard personality would allow.
âThereâs no denying what you did was stupid, but why you did it was still⊠commendable.â
Almost by reflex Phil rolled his eyes. âAlright, what have you done with the real Rachel Blackwood?â
âIâm serious, Phil. What you were trying to do showed a lot of trust. Just try to do it smarter next time.â
Phil stood nearly in complete bemusement. Rachel was not one to be sociable, and was rarely gracious, but nevertheless she was basically complimenting him â as close as she could get to complimenting someone, anyway.
âThanks,â he replied.
Rachel nodded. âDonât let it go to your head.â
Phil smiled. âYou mean getting a good mark from you? Iâll try not to. Still, I wish I could have recorded it for future reference.â
Rachel cocked her head at the statement. âSay that again.â
âI didnât mean anything by it,â Phil apologized.
âNo, no⊠there was something Emily and Chris were talking about a few days ago, something about recordingâŠâ Rachel grew distant in thought for a few seconds and then shook from her memory. âFinish the coffee. Iâll meet you guys down there,â She said as she turned and left.
Phil watched her leave, still lacking enough understanding about what she might be planning. Of course, he knew he'd find out soon enough; it was just so annoying how Rachel wouldn't tell anyone what she figured out until she already acted on it. Oh, well.
Moments later the coffee maker began to gurgle, indicating it was finishing the current batch. Despite wondering over the abrupt departure of Rachel, Phil pocketed a handful of sweetener pills, gathered three mugs along with the coffee pot and carefully made his way back down to the holding cells.
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I hadn't come to the café in a few weeks, but the best thing that could have happened on a visit was to see a new story by Grayle
It's a wonderful start to what I'm sure will be a great story. So this was going to be a full-length story like the first three parts?
I already can't wait for the next part, and I'm anxious about what'll happen to Chris.
Last edited by Edo (2009-07-11 18:10:55)
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Thank you so much, Edo! I'm Very glad to hear you're looking forward to this story!
This is going to be a short story, hopefully less than 10k words. It deals with a specific issue which threatens all individual hybreed at one level or another, and it may be my last posted story for a while.
I'm not too surprised with the lack of response, personally. Few people who have kept up with the Dep118 stories have time to post replies anymore, and most current posters in the Stories area never read my work. My loss. Still, I'll finish this one out. As such, here's some more.
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Phil handed a mug full of coffee to Jake, who was intently staring at Chris, fully concentrated on whatever telepathic scans he was performing. Jake robotically sipped the coffee without moving his gaze.
Two pills, please, Phil heard in his mind. He applied two sweetener pills to the mug in Jakeâs hands.
Jake responded with an ASL motion to say his thanks, never deterring his gaze. Phil could do little more than bring in a chair for his own use and an empty file cabinet to serve as a table for the mugs.
Rachel finally arrived, and was a little irritated upon realizing Phil had not retrieved a chair for her as well. He stood and offered his chair to her, but she declined. Phil suddenly decided this was the real Rachel after all, and took the chair back.
âJake, let me know when you can talk,â Rachel said.
Give me a moment, Phil heard Jake broadcast.
A moment later Jake closed his eyes, took a breath, sipped his coffee, and turned to look at Rachel.
âChrisâ conscious mind is receded, which has never really happened to him before, right?â
Not in a situation like this, yes.
âBut it happens to other late bloomers all the time, and they snap back to their original selves once they shift to human form.â
Yes.
âSo what would happen if we forced him to shift?â
Jake thought for a moment. Most likely his subconscious would relinquish control instinctively. Then again, his mind might stay the way it is.
âSo it just might force his conscious mind back in place?â
In a manner of speaking, yes. Thereâs also the chance it might fragment his mind into multiple personalities. Still, if we had the option, Iâd say forcing his change may be our best chance of getting him back whole.
Rachelâs eyes narrowed with confidence, as if it was exactly the response for which she hoped. âChris and Emily were working on something about hybreed frequencies. I heard them mention they recorded his frequencies. If we could invoke his human frequency, his body would follow suit and change back, and so would his mind. If nothing else it would make finding his conscious mind a lot easier.â
Rachel, recording his frequencies and invoking them are two different things.
âYes, but they mentioned using a modulator to do it.â
âAnd because they used the word âmodulatorâ, whatever they were referring to may be able to transmit his frequency?â Phil asked.
Rachel looked at Phil, and then back toward Jake. âItâs worth a shot, isnât it? You just said if you could force his body to shift you would.â
Jake rubbed the back of his neck in thought. So where is this device they were talking about?
âI donât know; I canât find it. And I canât find any mention of it in Emilyâs data files, and Chris doesnât have anything on it either.â
Jake inclined his head in understanding, then shifted his attention to Phil.
Phil returned the look, relatively certain he knew what the ebony Homo Chiropteran was thinking. He also took note of the irony in knowing what a telepath was thinking, but felt it wise to stay on subject and ask permission.
âShall I?â
Jake widened his lips with a smirk, which still offered a glimpse of that mischievous grin of his. Go work your magic, Phil.
Phil smiled back and inclined his eyebrows at Jake knowingly. He took in another swig of hot coffee, as large a swig as his palate would allow. He stood and looked at Rachel. âWant to come along?â
âI suppose,â she replied, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Phil smiled and gestured ahead toward the heavy door. âAfter you.â
With that Rachel and Phil exited, leaving Jake to continue scanning Chris for some spark of his conscious mind.
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I'm sorry to hear you're taking a break on writing after you finish this one, but at least I'll enjoy this one
I'm (still) a bit confused by the situation. Because of Jake's images of Chris being a latebloomer who is forced to transform, it really happens. And now trying to transform him back would be very risky, because his subconscious, which is also kind of his 'inner hybreed, or at least has some sort of preference for Chris's hybreed form, is now in control. But then why do other latebloomers safely transform back to human but Chris doesn't? Is it because the other latebloomers believe that it is the full moon controlling it, and that when they wake up they will find themselves human again, but Chris's transformation isn't 'controlled' by the full moon?
I may just have missed something or maybe I'm just stupid and I missed the point, but can you explain that?
Last edited by Edo (2009-07-13 15:35:51)
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I'm glad you brought that up, Edo.
You are correct. Other late bloomers shift back at the end of a full moon because they believe that's what is supposed to happen, therefore their subconscious acts on that knowledge, shifting them back to human at the end of the full moon.
With Chris, he knows that his shifting is not tied to the lunar cycle, even in his subconscious. Therefore, his subconscious would have no reason to shift back - it knows there is no need to shift back at the end of the full moon.
Granted, a dream based on Jake's mental image caused the change in the first place, but the dream didn't continue. Once he shifted to his hybreed form, his subconscious was awake and in control. In effect it's kinda like Chris is sleepwalking in his hybreed form, but it's probably more like a nightmare (hence the title Night Terrors).
Hopefully that explains things a bit better. I'll try to add some more explanation in the next draft, probably at the point where Jake and Phil discuss what happened back at the warehouse.
Last edited by Grayle (2009-07-14 18:26:29)
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Okay, I get it
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CRAP! I've got to catch up! Sorry Grayle.
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No worries, Wolfsong - I know how busy life can get, and I was missing for quite a while, which doesn't help matters much. However, if you wanted to subscribe to Night Terrors, I won't stop you...
Here's the rest of the current chapter.
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Phil accompanied Rachel to the medical labs, and Phil sat down at Emilyâs desk. He activated the computer keyboard, and the glass wall one meter in front of the desk lit up, displaying the computerâs active desktop.
âHere goes nothinâ,â he declared as he popped his knuckles, and began accessing Emilyâs data files.
Many of the file locations were restricted access, but Phil had seniority, a high imperial sanction, and Emilyâs password. Fortunately he did not need to use the latter, as he was not supposed to have the passwords for anyone else in Dep:118, officially. Once he found the appropriate location in Emilyâs data files, it only took a few attempts in several locations to find entries. Phil was very adept at this type of search.
He began with a search for all entries or references dealing with âhybreedâ, and found too much. He then took those results and honed the search with the word âfrequencyâ, which narrowed the results considerably. When he searched for âmodulatorâ, however, he found no results at all. He backed up and searched for âChrisâ, which lowered the results to a manageable level. Finally he began accessing the results one by one.
Less than ten minutes later he found the appropriate references in Emilyâs logs. She had applied for a new case study in hybreed frequency modulation. Phil mentioned in passing the frustration of his searching for the wrong suffix.
âYou found it, didnât you?â Rachel âencouragedâ him.
Phil nodded with submission and continued his research.
The notes indicated Dad still had not approved of the Case study for Emily, but she and Chris had recorded Chrisâ frequencies for later reference. The notes had a cross-reference link, which led directly to the listing of his frequencies.
âNow if only we had a transmitter,â Phil said.
âLeave that to me,â Rachel replied, and looked once again at the frequency listings. âWhich one should I use?â
âTry the higher one first.â
âWhy?â
Phil shrugged. âIf it doesnât work, switch to the lower one. Itâs a coin toss on which to try first. The coin landed on the higher one.â
âWhatever,â Rachel said with annoyance. âGive me an hour or so to get a transmitter ready and Iâll bring it over.â
Phil sighed as he stood from the desk and started toward the door.
âHey,â Rachel called.
Phil turned to look at her.
âThanks for the help.â
Phil nodded respectfully. âYouâre welcome.â
After Rachel gave her attention to her new project, Phil turned and exited with a slight smile on his face. The ice queen was beginning to show a little warmth. If she got water all over the carpet, however, he wasn't going to clean it up. After all he was a coffee boy, not a janitor.
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CAUGHT UP!
This is fantastic! Once again you have captivated me with your storytelling. Iâm subscribing casue I gotta know what happens next!!
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Thank you very much, Wolfsong! Here's some more. Kinda long, though, so prepare yourself.
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4.
Even with the heavy door closed Phil heard some sort of commotion coming from the cells as he approached. He quickened his pace and entered the area. Upon entering he noticed Jake had moved the furniture and coffee accessories away from the holding cell and stood in front of their new position, staring at the cell occupant. When he got closer Phil saw the occupant was awake and on all fours, pacing left and right in front of the bars.
âHey, Chris, buddy; youâre awake!â
The hybreed stopped for a moment. It stared at Phil curiously, then lowered his head and growled. He then began to snap and bark at Phil.
âOkay, so, not Chris yet,â Phil surmised, and looked at Jake who was staring at Chris.
Jake turned to Phil and signed a message. âI can pick up on some of his feelings, but his thoughts are all instinct. Heâs feeling like you betrayed him.â
Philâs eyes widened with dismay. It was as he feared; Chris blamed him for his current circumstances.
âNot in the slightest, Phil. Right now Chris doesnât have the capability to blame. He apparently sees you as a source for support and security, but he feels you are the one who attacked him in the forest and caged him.â
âWait â what?â
âItâs just how his current mindset is processing information. You are a trusted friend. You attacked him with light, then attacked him with pain, and then caged him. He feels betrayed.â
âBut thatâs not-â
âHeâs not in his right mind, Phil. If he was, heâd know better.â
Phil couldnât stand it. He wasnât going to put up with Chris feeling he had been betrayed, right mind or no. He had to win back Chrisâ trust, and he had to do it right. He needed to help Chris feel secure, safe, at ease. He needed to try to give Chris peace of mind. But how do you give a feral hybreed peace of mind?
The Earthlife.
âI got an idea,â he said, and approached the cage. When he did the hybreed barked again and reached through the bars toward him. Phil froze in surprise, barely out of reach.
Jake tapped on Philâs shoulder to get his attention. âYou sure?â he signed.
Phil took a breath as he looked back at his incarcerated friend. âYeah; yeah Iâm sure, itâs just thereâs not much of the Earthlife in here.â He looked at Jake. âHey Jake, could you round up some plants from Marthaâs station, and Kieshaâs office? We can put them back after.â
âVery clever,â Jake signed with a devious smile. âWill do. Just stay out of his reach, at least until I get back, okay?â
âIf you insist,â Phil said with raised eyebrows, and then directed his attention to the cell as Jake left.
Phil carefully judged the reach of the hybreed, and sat on the floor just outside of the distance. He tightened his pony tail and shook out any stiffness from his hands. Phil then crossed his legs and looked at his friend with as much caring and concern as he could possibly convey. The hybreed stopped its pacing; it still glared at Phil, but it visually calmed a bit, giving Phil its complete attention. Finally Phil straightened his back, closed his eyes, and did everything a human could do to attempt life-linking.
Phil concentrated on his hearing first. He heard the heavy breaths of the hybreed in the cell, and heard the soft white noise from the ventilation system as it refreshed the air in the room. He heard the thuds of upstairs footsteps from a large genetic cross of man and bat reverberating through the ceiling. Phil took note as the breaths of the hybreed slowed, almost stopped, and then heard the clicks from his claws as he repositioned in the holding cell.
Ever so cautiously Phil slid open one eye to check on his friend. Chris was sniffing the ground, circling in the center of the cage. Finally Chris sat his hind end on the concrete floor, facing the cell door, and cocked his head left and right at the human sitting outside, curious to his actions. In another time and place it might be considered cute. Phil smiled, took a deep breath, and continued his attempts at life-linking. Once more Phil checked on his friend just in time to see him straighten his back, heighten his head, close his eyes, and begin the process as well. Phil closed his eyes and continued since Chris seemed to be following his example.
It wasnât too long before Jake came back with the first shipment of plants. Phil listened intently as Jake positioned the plants around the corridor, and their individual distinctive aromas began to fill the room. Phil heard the caged hybreed sniff multiple times, no doubt picking up the fragrances with an intensity Phil could only imagine.
Phil, that wasnât just clever, it was genius, Phil heard in his mind. His subconscious is awake and very calm now. I might have a better chance of finding his conscious mind.
Once again Phil smiled and opened his eyes, looking upon the placid hybreed in the cell, fully immersed in a life-link session. Chrisâ ears swiveled to almost every new sound, his nostrils flared periodically, and his breaths were slow and steady.
âIâm only glad it worked,â Phil said softly, watching the hybreed ears swivel toward him. He looked up at Jake. âI still think I should stay and continue, just for support if nothing else.â
Jake nodded and signed a message. âI agree. Iâll go find some more plants and then get back to scanning him, but Iâm taking my chair, not the floor.â
Phil nodded in understanding; sitting on the floor was not an easy thing for Jake, with his large wings and all. Whatâs more, he was also becoming aware that the mind could only take in what the seat could endure, and the concrete floor was not very comfy in the first place. He didnât know how much time he had before his hind end couldnât take any more.
Iâll see if I can find you a cushion as well, Phil heard Jake broadcast to him.
He smiled and looked up at the ebony mutation. âJake, you read my mind.â
Jake smiled back with his devious grin and exited the corridor.
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Now that was a stroke of pure genius! I like it!
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Thanks much, wolfsong! here's some more.
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The seat cushion was nearly a godsend. Phil sighed graciously as it buffered his buttocks from the hard cold floor. He reached back and took a sip of his coffee, unhappily realizing it had become lukewarm. He pressed a button on the side of the mug to activate the internal heating element, and placed it back atop the file cabinet behind him. Jake had retaken his seat and begun his scanning once again. Phil closed his eyes and continued supporting his lupine friend.
After a while the large heavy door opened, and Phil opened his eyes. Rachel entered with armfuls of equipment. She looked around the room at all the plants, some of which were in the empty cells.
âRedecorating?â She asked.
âMore like anchoring,â Phil replied. âWeâre trying to help Chris to life-link.â
âWell I need a place to set all this down.â
âSure thing,â Phil said, and cleared the top of the file cabinet, placing the mugs and coffee pot on the floor next to him. He then took a test swig of his coffee, partially satisfied with the accumulated heat.
Rachel carefully unloaded her armful of equipment onto the file cabinet and began attaching the metal boxes with leads. She placed a tongue-like antenna on the top of the stack and aimed it at Chris. She sat in the empty chair and then began calibrating the equipment. After a few moments she announced the transmitter was ready. Jake stopped his intensive scanning, but still watched over Chrisâ mind. Phil stood from his sitting position with silent thankfulness.
The device became active and both Jake and Phil watched Chris intently for any indication. After only a short while Chris began to twitch, as if he was being bitten by annoying fleas.
Shut it down, Jake telepathically commanded, itâs not working.
âLet me try the other one, then,â Rachel said, and without waiting for permission she referenced her notes and modified the transmission frequency.
All three looked upon the hybreed in the cell, sitting with closed eyes and trying to pay attention to the sensory input around it. For a few moments nothing happened, but then the hybreedâs eyes shot open. It shifted to the right from a twinge of pain and whined. Then it heaved forward and yelped. It looked directly at Phil. It yowled in dreadful protest as it doubled over in pain.
âItâs okay, buddy! Itâs alright!â Phil said as he ran to the bars of the cage.
Jake grabbed Phil and held him back as the hybreed began to twist and writhe in the cell. You really want to become a hybreed, Phil?
âIâll take my chances!â Phil replied and pulled himself out of Jakeâs grip. He kneeled down at the bars of the cell, grasping them with his hands. âChris, itâs okay! It will be alright! Just hold on!â
The hybreed fell backward, landing on its side. As it did an enormous amount of fur fell from its body and onto the floor.
âLooks like its working,â Rachel commented.
The hybreed continued to writhe in pain, and then its limbs began to change shape. The feet began to recede while the thighs lengthened. The claws fell out, being replaced by more human-like fingernails and toenails, and the paws shrank to a more hand-like appearance. The muzzle shortened as the nose became more pronounced. The skull began to rise, making the shrinking ears appear as if they were sliding down to the side of its head. The tail withdrew and hid within the tattered shorts. A handful of minutes had passed before a human figure, Christopher Hansen, lay with reddened skin in a heap of chocolate fur, wearing only shorts and the same hairstyle he had the day before.
Phil immediately turned to the dark figure behind him. âJake?â
Jake gazed intently at the sleeping form, and then relaxed as he made his report.
Heâs dreaming of life-linking with Truugâs tribe. Weâll see when he awakes, but for now it look like it worked.
Phil sighed with relief and smiled. He looked at Rachel and, to his surprise, she was also smiling.
âYou did it, Rachel,â He said. âThanks.â
âDonât sell yourself short. It was all of us.â
I agree, Jake added. Granted, we still need to see if he wakes to his normal self. However, I think we found a way to externally invoke a hybreed shift. That could prove useful.
âYeah,â Phil added, âthereâs no reason for Dad to hold off on permitting this case study now.â
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Well, here's the final part. As usual, comments and feedback of all shapes and sizes are greatly appreciated.
To everyone who read this, thanks again, and I hope it entertained adequately.
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5.
It was not until several hours and cups of coffee later when Philâs vigilant watch over his friend proved fruitful. A weary groan issued from the waking form, sprawled out upon the floor the holding cell. Its right hand dragged up to its face and it groaned again.
Phil got up from his chair and stood at the bars of the cell door. âChris?â He called.
âYeah?â was the drained response.
Immediately Phil used his thumbprint to unlock the door, swung it open, and carefully helped his friend to an upright position against the back wall.
âWhat a crazy dream,â Chris said.
âIâll bet,â Phil said through his laugh. âHow do you feel?â
âHungry,â Chris announced as he opened his eyes. They opened even wider when he scanned his environment.
Phil also looked around in silent admiration of their supportive works. Nearly all the holding cells were occupied by a variety of plants, but the corridor and Chrisâ cell were more densely populated with the vegetation. When adding the two chairs and file cabinet in the corridor, with a bunch of electrical equipment stacked on top of the cabinet, the dĂ©cor gave a slight feeling of a makeshift hospital recovery room. The only things missing were the gurney, bandages, and really bad food.
Chris rubbed his neck as he examined the environment. âWhat the heck happened?â
âAs near as we can tell, last night you dreamed of going through what all the other late bloomers go through â you know, changing uncontrollably on the night of a full moon. Your subconscious mind reacted to it and shifted to your hybreed form, but it still had total control. Jake was worried you wouldnât change back, especially since he couldnât locate your conscious mind when he scanned you. We found the research you and Emily did on your frequencies. We used a transmitter to broadcast your human frequency, and it worked; your individual cells reacted and shifted back. Fortunately your conscious mind came back as well.â
Chris was obviously listening, taking it all in, but his groggy stare exposed his weariness. Even so, his first responses testified to his concern for others.
âI didnât hurt anybody, did I?â
âNope,â Phil reported. âWe kept you in here as soon as we caught you out in the forest. Thereâs a bay door at Jakeâs place thatâs seen better days, though.â
Chris nodded. âIâll pay to get it fixed.â
Oh no you wonât, Jake broadcasted. It was a little more awkward than usual since Jake wasnât even in the room. This whole thing started because I put that mental image in your head to augment Philâs scenario. If anyoneâs going to pay for it, I will.
âIf I didnât suggest the whole thing in the first place, this never would have happened,â Phil protested.
The large heavy door opened, and in walked the ebony Homo Chiropteran, carrying several items.
âPhil,â Chris said as he returned his gaze from noticing Jake, âIf you didnât suggest what you did, I wouldnât have a better understanding of what itâs like for other late bloomers.â
Phil looked at him with inquisitive curiosity. Chris closed his eyes again, took a breath and exhaled slowly, clearly trying to concentrate on remembering, and then continued.
âI can only remember faint images, glimpses.â He opened his eyes again. âIâm sure Iâll remember more later, but even now I can tell I wasnât in control. Itâs a good thing you guys caught me when you did; thereâs no telling what I would have done, but I wouldnât have been able to stop myself. I guess thatâs exactly what late bloomers go through every full moon. Itâs torture.â
Phil put his hand on Chrisâ shoulder for encouragement.
Jake entered the cell, carefully crouching through the doorway to allow his wings access. He handed Chris an unmarked plastic bag filled with jerky. Chris took the bag, opened it, and pulled out a piece. He tore into the piece aggressively and began to consume it. A contented smile broke forth upon his face.
âMmmmm, bison,â he said.
Phil was surprised at the comment. Bison meat was infrequent in Culmna City, and at times expensive, but finding it as jerky was a rare delicacy. He looked up at Jake. âHow on earth did you manage bison jerky?â
Jake popped his eyebrows and flashed his mischievous grin. I have my sources, He said as he reached over and helped himself to a piece. He also tore into the meat forcefully. I mentioned the possibility to Chris and he flipped the bill.
Phil hesitated, but only for a moment. âMay I?â
Jake nodded and gestured to the bag.
Just to make sure, Phil looked at Chris inquisitively as well.
Chris smiled. âGo ahead; try some,â he said as he pulled out some more.
Phil dived into the bag and pulled out two chunks. He sank his teeth into one of the chunks and tore off a piece to chew.
Chris laughed. âYouâre going to put our animal table manners to shame, Phil!â
Phil gestured toward both Chris and Jake as he swallowed. âWhen in RomeâŠâ he said, and bit off another piece.
Chris and Jake laughed at the comment. Jake retrieved his chair and brought it into the cell. And then all three friends began conversing about the events of the night, the movies they tried to watch, celebrating the Day of Relation in their own way. Rachel finally came in and agreed to try the present cuisine, but did not stay for long. When Chris felt up to it they exited the cell and replaced the plants and paraphernalia borrowed over the night, including Dadâs craft. Once they returned to Jakeâs place they finished guyâs night through the rest of the day.
All three slept in the following morning, and all three stayed indoors.
--The End.
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Bravo!
*applauds*
Congratulations on finishing another great story
Too bad it was so short
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Just finished both parts. Most excellent! That was really involving story; nice work buddy!
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