Rick felt himself trapped in a nightmare.

Before him stood the faceless monster of wrath.

At either side of the creature, Monica, Kat, Tomas, Charlie, Mr. Gabriel, and May.

Everything else was dark. Only the eight of them existed within this nightmare.

“You killed me,” Charlie spoke, pale blue lips curled into an emotionless mask. May, next to him, nodded.

“You would’ve gotten us killed too.” Kat, Tomas, and Mr. Gabriel proclaimed.

“You abandoned me,” Monica spoke, iron collar weighing her down, chaining her body into the ground.

The monster of wrath waved its hand, and the figures on either side went silent. Head bowed, he did not speak. His eyes were not focused on those before him but the nightmare that flashed across his thoughts. Lips trembling, he tried to form the words, but his chest tightened. Only a half choke made its way out.

“Do you really think you’re qualified to own Monica?”

The question snapped his attention forward. To look at the source, he found nothing there. He was alone. The world swirled, the void turned into something else. A room with a checkerboard floor. A chandelier hung from overhead, white light shining brilliantly, illuminating the stairs of gold and silver that led elsewhere into the building. But Rick wasn’t paying attention to the architecture. His focus was on the figure near the center.

It would’ve been easy to recognize her, the white hair and cat ears were easy to see. But everything else about her was… different.

Monica stood tall, her body as imposing and powerful as ever. And she was wearing clothes. A light gray uniform, a vest with long sleeves that reached all the way to her elbows where the fur of her claws grew. She wore a long skirt that went all the way to her knees, revealing the powerful fur covered calves and paws she had for feet. The most striking change was in her face, her long hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, her blue-green eyes shining brilliantly.

And on her throat, a green collar.

The young woman paced back and forth, her long white tail lashed back and forth nervously, ears flat against her skull. She eyed the door, twitching as it opened. Her eyes lit up and a half smile formed, but her shoulders slumped when the one to enter was another woman, another maiden. The face of the newcomer was blurred, the scene was focused on Monica.

“You look nervous.” The ghostly presence spoke with a chuckle.

“Of course I am.”

Rick heard himself gasp as he heard her speak, clearly, fluently. His eyes locked on Monica as she wriggled, pacing again, biting her lower lip and eying the main entrance every other second.

“Keep walking in circles and you’ll make a whole.”

The feline bristled. “Shut up.”

A soft click signaled the door opening, and a figure stepped through. It was a man this time. Tall and slim, his features were sharp. The figure carried poise, dominance, control. No sooner had he stepped into the room that both maidens had reacted, moving their right hand to their left shoulder in a salute.

Rick saw as Monica’s tail began to lash in excitement, her ears fully standing at attention and focused on the man that was approaching. Her lips contained a grin. “My Lord.” She spoke, puffing her chest out.

“Monica.” The man nodded in acknowledgment.

The man reached out and caressed the feline’s cheek.

“This is how her life will be.” A voice whispered into Rick’s ear.

He couldn’t look away, seeing Monica lean into the man’s touch. The man smiled.

And Rick’s heart felt as if he’d been stabbed.

“Follow me.” The Lord spoke, turning to go up the stairs.

The feline turned to follow, the lash of her tail accompanied by a bounce in her step. She eyed over to the fellow maiden and they shared a quiet giggle, moving through featureless corridors as the tall thin man remained ahead of both, not looking over her shoulder.

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“Isn’t she happy?” The voice softly spoke at Rick’s ear.

The Lord entered a room, a small room, there was something off about it. The room tingled with power, it prickled against Rick’s skin. The space small enough that it felt personal, almost intimate.

There were only two things in the room.

A window with a purple curtain, casting the room in a low purple glow. And a small wooden step near the center, a cushion laying on top. The walls were adorned with depictions of various women kneeling, presenting their naked throats to tall imposing noble figures. In each one, the nobles held in their hands a collar, its coloration varied from one scene to the next, just as the shape of each woman in each scene was different.

“Elise, you first.”

The declaration almost seemed to hit Monica, she winced and pouted, but kept quiet.

“Watch.” The formless voice told Rick, and he felt like he couldn’t look away.

The faceless woman moved to kneel on the step, raising her head and showing the green collar to the noble.

“A green collar means that they have no specific Master or Mistress, practically public property.” The voice told Rick, a hand slowly falling on his shoulder, gripping him, pinning him in place so he could not look away. “Blue means they have found an owner.”

The noble cleared his throat, reaching down to caress the green collar. There was a quiet tension as his fingers tightened around the collar. “I will break your collar.” The noble spoke. “And in doing so, your bond will break.” His eyes bore down onto the kneeling woman. “Are you willing to trust me with your sanity? With your heart, mind, and soul?”

“I do.”

A snap, the collar breaking as if it posed no more resistance than paper. The woman gasped, face tightening and her hands clenching. Closing her eyes, she raised her chin, ready for the next step.

“This is your final chance.” The man spoke. “From this day forward, you will be mine. Do you surrender?”

“I do.”

Behind the kneeling woman, Monica stood, rapt attention and unable to look away. Her face twisted in a mix of a smile and concern, her eyes flickering between the lord and the maiden.

“This…” Rick felt himself falter. “This is an illusion.”

“True. But does it matter?” The voice spoke. “This image of her feels real to you.”

The Lord spoke. “Now and forever.” His hands clasped a blue collar around the maiden’s neck. She shuddered, closing her eyes and smiling. “From hence forth, your name shall be Guinevere.”

“I accept this name.” The woman spoke, trembling. “Master.”

“See how happy she is?” The invisible hand moved Rick’s head to stare at Monica, watching as she stepped forward. Her smile was brilliant enough to flood the room with its light. “Monica will be better off here.”

“No.” His voice shook.

“Yes.” The formless voice replied. “All the fighting and hunting she could wish for. All the education and help she could need.”

“Kneel.” The Lord spoke softly, the feline not needing to so much as wait to comply.

“She’ll be happy here.” The voice caressed Rick’s chest, his heart beat wildly underneath.

The Lord reached out for the green collar around Monica’s neck, she bared it eagerly, thrusting her chest forward.

“No.” His fist clenched.

“What’s the alternative? You? You who sent one of your students to his death?” The voice hissed, Rick felt his strength falter. “You who sent her into a hole to suffer all because she accidentally bonded you?”

“No, I…”

“I will break your collar.” The noble spoke.

“Do you really think you’re someone who should ever be in charge of someone else? Let alone someone who trusted you blindly because of a bond?”

“And in doing so, your bond will break.”

THUMP THUMP THUMP

Rick’s fist clenched.

“No, Rick, you’re not able to handle this.”

“Are you willing to trust me with your sanity? With your heart, mind, and soul?”

The beating turned into a loud ringing.

Monica parted her lips to speak.

“MONICA!”

Rick roared.

The feline’s right ear twitched.

“MONICA!”

He screamed again, moving a step ahead but feeling the hands of the formless voice holding him fast, rooting him on the spot.

She blinked.

Confusion appeared on her face, frowning as she looked away from the Lord.

Their eyes met. Her eyes widened, a soft gasp.

“Rick?”

“What the fuck?” The voice gasped.

With the feeling of a rubber band snapping into place, the scene vanished, everything became white, and the hands let go of Rick. The man stumbled forward, almost falling down to the floor. But he had not let go of the hand grasping his shoulder, a vicious snarl on his lips as he swung around, clenched fist. The faceless woman had been standing right there.

And for an instant, her mask held the barest hint of an emotion. Shock.

His fist connected against her jaw, her body crumpled, falling down, the mask shattering into a hundred pieces. A pale red face with orange eyes revealed behind.

“Monica’s mine.” He snarled, stepping closer to her prone form.

She wiped the blood from her lips. “Make sure to remember that feeling.” The strange woman smiled. “You’ll need that attitude if you plan to get her back.”

With just a blink, he was back in his room.

“You should hurry.” The red woman’s voice whispered in his ear, the tingling sensation vanishing from his mind.

Rick quickly looked around, snapping his head left and right. His body felt like it was waking from a very long nap. Everything was lethargic, slow, barely clicking into place. Was he really back? He sighed in relief.

“Sir?” The voice snapped his attention, Dia had been seated there. The young woman smiled, but frowned right after. “Are you alright?”

“Yes.” He nodded, moving to stand up and almost falling over. He fell ass first back onto the bed. “Ok, maybe in a minute.”

Dia approached, leaning to touch his forehead. Her hand glowed softly and right away the odd mismatching sensations and dizziness vanished. “Please breathe. Psychic intrusion can sometimes leave one disoriented.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Rick replied. “I need to go get Monica, tonight.”

“Oh.” Thunder crackled outside, thunder making the windows rumble. “That… will be complicated, sir.”

“A little storm isn’t going to stop me.”

A loud siren broke through the silence, a long wail that reminded him of the bomb warnings from the war.

“The ferals might pose a bit of a problem, though.” She grimaced.