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3: Drowned puppies

Hyde laid back on his couch, watching the news and finishing his cigar. Nicole strolled in and got something from the mini fridge, taking a sip and then setting it down. She stared at him oddly for a moment.

“Were you needing something?” he asked in a gravely voice

“I’m not sure yet.” She puzzled, approaching him and processing something.

“You’re acting strange.” He yawned.

“I know, just… go with it.” She said, grabbing his left hand and moving it from his chest to his side, turning his palm up and hanging slightly off the couch. She crossed her arms as if calculating or debating something. Then she kicked her shoes off and climbed right on top of chest, slumping over using his arm as a stop. She slowly placed her face down on his collarbone and closed her eyes as his hand turned and cupped her thigh just above her knee. She just laid there, breathing for a moment. Their heads turned to stare at the other, just locked in a confused silence. She stretched forward, nudging the hog ring in his nose with her nose and giving him a very subtle crack of a smile.

“Why does this feel so familiar?” she asked softly. “We’ve never done this. I don’t even know what this is.”

“I’m not sure either, but I’m not objecting to it. It’s not the first time we’ve been this close, under different circumstances, staring each other down.”

“Maybe I’m just trying to say the same thing I was then…I’m not afraid of you.” She whispered.

“You should have been then. Why weren’t you? Why aren’t you now?”

“I don’t know. Should I be?” she asked genuinely with no hint of defiance and a soft sense of genuinely wanting to know.

“I think you’re just very lonely and lost. You miss something you can’t have, and you can’t decide if this is close enough to convince yourself it’s him.” He reasoned.

“I thought that too, but it’s not the same at all. I’m not trying to tell myself that you’re him, I’m trying to decide if this is what I really wanted when I was with him… or if this is just what I want now. Would the other Nicole wish you were Vinn, or even consider lying here at all? Is this the new me, or just where all of us would be right now given the chance and the understanding of it.”

“You’re a very confused little human.” He gruffly sighed.

“I’m not completely human either anymore. And you’re not the same thing I knew when we last stared nose to nose.”

“Well you’re probably much more comfortable lying down rather than being stuck in a trap like a scared little rat, trying to scratch your way out or get your gun pointed at my face. There was no fear in your eyes then either, but there was so much primal fury…that’s still there, but it wants something very different. Now you can’t look away, and before I had to encourage you to look at me, just so you’d listen to me.”

“Encourage? Is that what you call it? Getting a handful of my hair and pulling my head back to look up from the trap?”

“Like this?” he said running his fingers through her hair and getting a light grip. He placed his hands on the small of her back and ran his claws carefully up, repeating that motion slowly.

“Didn’t quite have the finesse last time, but here I am again" she smirked.

“Face first in a trap you crawled into yourself, staring down the monster who has you by the scalp. That’s why it feels familiar, Nicole. We’ve been here before, and you weren’t so calm about it.”

“Well maybe if the room was flooding and I couldn’t swim, I’d be just as concerned now. Maybe if I wasn’t a rat in a maze being manipulated by a psychopath I would have been right here.”

“I deserve that.” He nodded.

“I meant Gizzy. We were both rats in a maze, you just…knew the way out.”

“This is significantly different circumstances, Nicole. There’s no metal bar on your neck, no joint and muscle burn from running yourself half to death, no lies, no doubting your sanity. And you can just…back out of this trap if you wanted. Nobody is keeping you here forcing you to listen.”

“Could I?” she asked. “Could I really just get up and leave? With your claw on my back and another in my hair, you think I could just get out and run if you didn’t let me? You let me out of that trap, you don’t wanna let me out of this one. Between the fake threat then, and nobody controlling you now…is the danger really any less? Nobody has you on a leash following orders. No voice in your head telling you what to do.”

“Oh there’s a voice in my head telling me things right now. It’s just not her, and I don’t hate what it’s saying, but there is still something restraining me.” He said with sadness in his dark rusty orange eyes.

“But you let me out of that trap. You could have done any horrible thing you wanted to do, and nobody could have stopped you. You’re not afraid of her now or then. You saw the water rising and saw the fear in my eyes, and you let me out to give me a fighting chance, because it didn’t seem fair.”

“And I left you to drown in there.”

“And how many times have you killed someone with your bear hands?”

“I lost count.”

“How did it feel?” she asked.

“Powerful. Like glory and honor. Those men were there to fight, they chose their death, and I accepted the role of leading them to the afterlife. But there isn’t one, is there? They’re just dead. But they would have done the same to me, given the strength. So as pointless as it all was, I do not feel guilt for it. We’re killers. We fight, we die, another takes our place. That’s simply how it is. We are toy soldiers, falling off the assembly line one by one, replaced when broken, an endless supply of equally obedient drones dying for the queen and fueled as fast as we fall, burned as quickly as we rise. My life was no more or less worthless than theirs was, and it was my choice to live and bask in the glory while they died. I don’t cry myself to sleep over it. I wasn’t raised that way and even now I feel no pity for them. They did their job and I did mine. I was better, my performance was flawless and they made mistakes. And that is why I do not have any hate for Vinn. I made a mistake, failed my job, and he got lucky and chose to live…for you, I might note. He chose to live for you. I can’t say he did anything I would not have done in the same place. He chose well, and he basks now in that glory…with you.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“And yet, here you are with me, and you’re basking in guilt instead of glory. You said you don’t regret killing, you don’t regret fighting back, and you said he earned his prize, so why do you look like someone just ran over your puppy as I lay here like your prize? Is it because you didn’t earn me? Is it because you don’t think you’re man enough to enjoy glory anymore, or are you just rebooted as confused as I am? Broken.”

“What a perfect analogy you almost had. Someone ran over your puppy. The look of someone who recently lost a pet they were just getting attached to. Something they had been playing with and watching grow and forming a bond with, now lifeless on the road, and you saw it happen. I chased you through those tunnels 3 times, playing with you, watching you learn to snip and bite at me and then run back to play again another day. You were growing, conquering your fear, and I was only supposed to help that process and guide your training along. And then when the training was complete, and I was given the order to walk away, I didn’t want to.

I enjoyed our time, and it was over, but you were ready to swim, and you were not mine to keep. Trust in the almighty Lord Gizzy and her divine wisdom. Let her swim, walk away. And then I watched the water you feared swallow you whole, fill your lungs, you struggled and yelled silently for help, and then you died. I watched my puppy get run over because I was told you were ready to do this on your own. If someone killed your puppy, and then you found another one just like it in the store, would you not take it and run? And would you not stare into its eyes and remember when you let it die, because you followed orders, just like you always do…when every part of you felt that something was wrong? You were never mine, Nicole. I was not the same person who failed her and then failed in battle to be sent to no afterlife for the sacrifices. You’re not the same girl who died. So why do I feel like a failed you?”

“Because you have a heart now. Do you know how many times I’ve cried watching a stupid commercial with some mangy dog and sad music telling me to rescue this poor pathetic animal because nobody else will? Those commercials may be 6 years old. That scruffy sick dog is either rescued or dead, and I am mopping up real tears with a tissue because I can’t save it and it’s probably too late. I just get to see their ghost look into my eyes and say ’help me Nicole, I’m hungry and cold’ and it kills me inside. That’s what having a heart is like, and maybe you didn’t have one before and this one does, or maybe it needed to be shocked to life. I don’t know, and I don’t care because that you is dead and burned and in whatever afterlife he believed in. Whatever heaven he fought for or hell he thinks he deserved, it doesn’t matter.

He’s gone, she is gone, we watched them both die and we came back stronger. You think you have guilt, mister? I’m the one who failed to save a hundred puppies throughout my life and then just when I started to get to know one that maybe I could save, I watched my husband tear its head off to the cheering of thousands of people in an arena, and I cheered with them. I cried and cheered at the same time, and then went home with the man who killed my dog, just when he was learning to play nice. Nicole with a heart did that and slept well at night. You think you feel guilty like a heartless monster for letting me die, did you cheer for it? Did your friends and family watch and cheer with you? I know what it’s like to be covered in blood and surrounded by death and feel no regret and bask in the glory, and I didn’t even get to fight for mine. Someone fought for me, because weak human Nicole can’t protect herself. And now we’re both back, hating our ghosts and feeling like it’s our fault. Maybe Kraken felt nothing when I died, maybe you just feel that now because you watched HIM do it. Maybe other Nicole was glad you were dead and I just watched that memory as a new person.” she suggested.

“You’re just trying to rescue a ghost on a screen, and I hate myself because of a nightmare of watching my puppy get run over. Do souls even exist at all, or do clones just not get one? Are we all just ghosts copies? What the fuck are we even doing?” he asked.

“Whatever we want. We’re brand new. Maybe we’re upgraded or maybe we’re defective, but you bought a new puppy you’re thinking about neglecting, because it looks too much like the old one, and I finally get to rescue your broken pathetic little ratty ass from some demented kennel you broke out of. I’m not taking you back there, and you’re not going to ignore me because I’m cute enough to make you realize at least THIS verson of you has a heart. I can feel it, it’s there.” She said, laying her cheek on his chest.”

“Why do you always pick the biggest, meanest dog from the kennel with the sharpest teeth and the history of biting, to take home and cuddle with? Is it masochism or madness?”

“Maybe it’s because I’m the only one who can, and nobody else has the guts to try and risk it. The big ugly scary dogs get left in the kennel and the cute ones go home with families. I like scary things. Haven’t you seen my tattoos?” she asked as he stretched his neck to see and lifted her skirt slightly to get a look at the classic wolf-man poster on her thigh.

“I don’t know if I should be flattered you like ugly, scary things, or annoyed that you called me ugly and scary.” He huffed. She peered up at him with a blank stare and blinked a few times.

“Do you really want me to get my phone out, bring up your picture and comparison photos so you can lie to me and say you’re actually a pretty poodle through those pinky sized yellow teeth stained by cigars and blood?” she asked.

“I think I just realized why I like you.”

“I’m a hot little monster with the thing for bigger, scarier monsters, plus I'm laying on you in a tank top and skirt?”

“No. You may be the only person who isn’t scared of me, and tells me the truth, even if it’s not pretty. The rest is just…bonus content. You could have lied to me and said I’m a handsome boy, and a very good doggy because you know either hand on you right now is capable of crushing you with one squeeze. When you’re as scary as me, everyone just tells you what you wanna hear. I could respect that enough to keep you even if you were as ugly as me. So I guess I got the better deal out of this.”he grinned.

“You keep thinking that, and I don’t know why you still think you could crush me if you tried.” She said, widening her pupils and turning her eyes black, cycling them back to normal with a disturbing little grin.

“That’s a very good point.” He smirked, squeezing her tighter. “I guess we have to just do some experimenting to figure out just what little resurrected demon Nicole can handle.”

“I’m not a demon; I’m just a little seamonster.”

“And I’m not any form of Earth canine, but neither of us wants to split hairs over those details. So pipe down little demon, you may get used to the smell of brimstone.” He said, taking a hit from his cigar and placing it back on the table, petting her head and blowing the smoke upwards and away.