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Jeremiah…
The driver eased the sleek black car up through the woods, past two gates. Jeremiah hadn’t had to do anything. His driver rolled down the window at every stop just long enough to flash Jeremiah’s ticket in security’s direction. An impulsive gift had gotten him here, given to a group of boys by a vain and preening madman. A fragile human, who wanted… what? Fame? Friends? Knowledge? Admiration?
When they reached the endpoint, a stream of fancy cars released people dressed for a gala onto the manicured lawn. Signs along the drive explained that guests would have to walk a well-lit path deeper into this theatrical mystery. Disliking the unknown, Jeremiah’s skin prickled. He dismissed the sensation and detached from it. Tonight, he was one of them. Glancing into the driver’s rear-view mirror, Jeremiah tried several options before he found the right face. A bit of excitement, a touch of anxiety, and an expectation of novelty. This was, after all, just a promotional stunt. As he waited for the driver to reach his side of the car and open his door, Jeremiah tucked his ticket into his pocket. Even though they had done what they could to find a suit that would fit him, it pulled across his broad back, tight in the chest, as he stepped out of the vehicle.
Just like many of these party goers, he would meet his friends. Just not the kind these humans would assume he was meeting. The forest would fill with wolves soon, dozens of them. The Wolves talked about the little girl as if she was a sacrificial lamb. They’d thrown her onto an altar to discover what these tainted, twisted human beings were up to. She was a child, and putting someone that young in this position did not sit well with him. Wolves did not value the lives of their children in the way Bears did. Ansel was being careless with hers. He was too certain that her small spirit would hold her shape under duress. They were counting on the girl to refuse to change.
In the works, was a plan to disrupt the Sheep’s media feed, but these humans were slippery. The night had grown warm and the evening breeze brushed moist against his face. Rain was coming. The moon, bright and full along the top line of the trees, leered at him. This was not a night for changing, but the silly humans didn’t know that.
Amongst all the crashing, crunching footsteps, Jeremiah’s steps were strangely quiet. He altered his stride to add more sound, intentionally scattered leaves. The crowd was festive. An array of sheep from across the strata of American culture headed along the path without a second thought. None of them were shape shifters. His mouth cloyed with the smell of them and the overwhelming perfumes they were so fond of. Their blind noses needed a cacophony of scent. They seemed to crave the painful loudness of it. It was his least favorite part of moving amongst them. The intensity of the stink. The stale, artificial quality layered onto them, coating them, marked them as something unhealthy in the world. A blight.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Maybe the Bears were wrong. The live and let live approach may have been an error. This couldn’t be what the world needed. These sprawling, cruel, greedy, shallow creatures. He thought of Nana, and his face softened as he nodded to an older woman when he passed her. There were a few acceptations.
*
Kennedy…
Gripping the steering wheel, Terry focused on the road. Kennedy was nose blind. She’d put so much bleach into the cleaning water that she couldn’t smell anything. She hadn’t wanted to smell anything. How would she tell him? She watched Terry’s face.
The big man took a deep, calming breath and froze. The truck fishtailed and Kennedy’s body slammed into the door. She held on as he brought the car to an awkward stop on the shoulder. The smell of burning tires barely registered.
He turned and looked at her, really looked at her. Terry took in her raw hands and ragged nails. Holding very still, he took a breath, and then another. His eyes grew wet and glossy along his lashes. Why was he going to cry?
He asked in Bear, “What have you done?”
Kennedy blinked slowly, remembering in burning flashes; the winged darkness, his mother pulling apart, the baby crying. “What she asked me to.”
For the first time, she saw a shadow of fear move across his face.
*
Jeremiah…
The interior of the venue was blindingly bright. They’d refused Jeremiah’s entrance until he signed a video release, and invited him to choose a mask to wear. Repetitive, varied in color, distinctly not male or female, he chose a pale blue option and slid it over his face. Most of the gathering people lifted masks from the table, becoming a sea of expressionless humanity. Only a handful choose to expose their bare faces to the cameras filming the evening’s events. He hadn’t expected so many people. In this room alone, he counted forty. Were there other rooms?
A large video screen flickered to life. “Welcome guests!” A resonate voice came from behind a golden mask. “Thank you for choosing to be our witnesses. You, who are here in person, will be unable to erase from your memories what will be revealed to you.” He shifted to the side and exposed a tiny girl cowering in a cage behind him. “They look so much like us, don’t you think? It’s shocking.” He clicked his tongue as he reached out toward the girl and she cowered backward in the enclosure. “Just give us a little time. Please enjoy our hospitality as we wait for the rest of our guests to arrive.” The screen went black, and a tidy row of masked women dressed in white wove through the room with glasses of Champaign and others with canape.