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Sanctuary Shadows

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

Chapter One

24th February, 2024

All Rights Reserved.

In the dimly lit van, heavily tranquilised, Misty lay with half-closed eyes – a testament to the potency of the sedatives that flooded the young kangaroo's veins. Restrained in the back of the vehicle, her form remained almost imperceptible, a silent, barely breathing figure in the darkness.

Two individuals watched over her, their attention sharp for any untoward signs of movement. Conversations in hushed tones permeated the air, harbouring and ominous undercurrent.

“You think she'll put up a fight?" One guard asked, looking down at Misty.

“She's just another one of 'em. How many is it now? Six, Seven? They all break – that last buck? Took what – ten minutes to have him crouching and coughing in submission?"

Chuckles come from three of the four humans in the van.

“He was a nice one, that one! Just needed to be...coerced..." Spoke the second man, making a grabbing gesture at his crotch. “I bet this doe will be even better and..."

“Oh, I bet she'll scream. I like it when they scream and - “

In her sedated state, Misty remained oblivious to the malevolent plot unfolding around her. The van continued its journey, carrying her to a new 'sanctuary' – only this place, wasn't the promised place they'd made it out to be...

A deafening bang echoed through the air, followed by a violent swerve that sent the van careening back and forth before abruptly twisting to the right. The once steady ride now transformed into a chaotic dance of death and destruction.

The sound of tearing sheet metal and shattering glass harmonized with the gut-wrenching sensation of the van rolling multiple times. It's sides crumpled inwards, and the back doors were mercilessly wrenched off their mounts, leaving a trail of debris in the vans tumultuous wake. In the blink of an eye, the two humans who had been stoically watching over the drugged kangaroo met an instant and horrific fate.

Amidst the wreckage and chaos, Misty, still heavily sedated and restrained, became a helpless passenger in this vehicular calamity. The world outside the van blurred into a whirlwind of disorienting sensations as it tumbled and tore itself apart along the unforgiving road.

Inside the shattered confines of the van, the once secure restraints that held Misty in place twisted and strained. The sudden violence of the crash had managed to shake her into a semblance of consciousness, the effects of the potent tranquillizer adding a surreal layer to the unfolding nightmare.

As the cacophony of destruction finally subsided, a surreal stillness settled in. The air carried the acrid scent of burned and crushed metal, accompanied by the taste of rubber, dust, and the lingering fumes of leaking gasoline. The metallic tang of blood and viscera added an unsettling layer to the post-crash environment. Misty's eyes, still half-closed from the sedation, flickered with a glimmer of consciousness.

Sickening pain gripped her, followed almost instantly by a nausea that felt as if it would tear her very entrails out. Choking and crying out weakly in fear and pain, Misty twitched and managed to drag herself from the wreckage. Pressing her leathery paw pads against the road, she tried to pull herself upright. Blood welled from multiple injuries, some rather deep, as she swayed, and through more good luck than conscious thought, managed to pull her long feet under herself and crouch.

Fear flooded her, followed by pain, making even breathing feel like pure agony. Trying to hop – Misty screamed in marsupial agony, her left ankle twisting, wrenching the long foot to the side and sending white-hot pain shooting through her body. All Misty could do, was a weak crawl, dragging one foot behind her, the tendon at her ankle feeling like it'd snap with each movement.

Instinct drove her – to get away from the van, the humans, the smell of them, and the acrid, painful scent of the liquid that splattered on the road.

“Help - “ Come a weak, blood-choked cry. “Help me... I'm trapped – oh gods – my legs are crushed...help...help me, please!"

Misty twitched, turning her head to look at one of the humans who had trapped and captured her. Carefully, she stood up as best she could, her pale muzzle twitching, her large, dark eyes gazing at the entangled human in the wreckage.

Turning away, Misty dragged herself along the road, getting as far from the vehicle as she could manage. Each movement brought pain and more blood loss due to her thudding heart. As her residual strength began to falter, Misty stumbled, then fell – only to force herself back up and forward again – her fear and instinct compelling her body.

Behind her, there was a soft whoosh, then a high-pitched, human scream of pure fear and agony, mercifully silenced as a louder whomp sounded. Misty squealed, feeling like the fur on her neck, back, and tail would catch fire, as the van behind her exploded in an incandescent black and orange ball of flame that shot skyward.

Misty struggled onwards before her ears snapped forward and her mouth fell open, as she heard the screeching of tires as two cars slammed on their brakes and skidded. As the terrified occupants poured out, staring dumbfounded, first at the bloodied, wobbling kangaroo doe, then morbidly drawn to the burning van.

Shaking her head, fighting her sickening nausea, pain, and the residual tranquilizer, Misty's vision doubled, then trebled, before she swayed and landed with a sickening splat on the ground, her head striking the road with a loud thud – and blessedly – she knew no more...

*

As Misty lay unconscious on the road, the world around her continued in chaotic disarray. The stink of rubber, burning human remains, the flames, and the sickened, horrified whispers of the bystanders filled the air. Unbeknownst to her, the people who had witnessed the explosion were torn between their instinct to flee and the morbid fascination that kept them glued in place, watching the burning wreckage.

One of them pulled out their cell phone, calling emergency services. Another, a young woman her face etched with empathy and concern, stepped out of her car. She quickly pulled a large moving blanket from off her back seat. She cautiously approached Misty, her steps measured and deliberate. Kneeling beside the bloodied kangaroo, she visually assessed the extent of Misty's injuries.

Barely conscious, Misty grunted in fear and pain, one paw twitching defensively.

“Woah, easy, easy..." Murmured the woman, gently touching Misty's shoulder. “I won't hurt you, it's okay, I want to help you, you poor creature -"

Misty's consciousness began to unravel and she fled into the darkness, willingly, seeking to escape the pain and fear that flooded her.

“Oh my god, someone, call for help!" One of the bystanders screamed, becoming hysterical. “We need medical assistance!"

“Nobody could have survived that - “ Said another, turning away, placing a fist against their mouth, fighting to keep the bile from rising up their throat. “It's too late for them -"

Ignoring the others, the woman focused on Misty. Gently placing a hand on Misty's side, she felt the rapid thudding heart, mixed with the shallow breaths.

“There's still hope, young one – you're hanging in there young doe, come on, fight for me, please?" She breathed out. “Someone, please – help me! I'm a Veterinarian Nurse, this kangaroo's unconscious and injured! If we can get her into my car, I can get her to the sanctuary – I can save her..."

Two men came to the assistance, and together, the three of them ever so gently lay Misty on the blanket, trying to support her as best they could, whilst a fourth joined and carried the unconscious kangaroo to the nurse's vehicle. In the distance, the warbling of sirens was heard, as the four of them loaded Misty, wrapped in the thick blanket, onto the back seat.

“Thank you," Exclaimed the woman, tears of gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, now, I got to get her to the sanctuary – time is critical..."

“Go, we'll wait for the emergency services..." One said as he shut the door.

*

As consciousness trickled back into Misty's awareness, the world around her coalesced into a nauseating blur. A persistent throbbing in her head and an all-encompassing ache throughout her body accompanied her return to an unwilling consciousness. Blinking against the harsh, blinding light that bathed her, Misty couldn't suppress a cry that echoed her fear and pain.

Figures in masks and gloves loomed over her, blurry and indistinct, their features obscured. A frown creased their brows as they swiftly secured a mask over Misty's muzzle. A strange hissing sound reached her ears as she instinctively attempted to struggle, yet her movements grew increasingly lethargic. It felt as if unseen weights were being added to her body, dragging her into a disorienting languor.

“What the hell --" murmured one of the masked figures.

Misty cried out, her vision blurring into double, then trembled, as gloved hands touched her body, and she fought the anesthetic's effects, trying to struggle once again, crying out in terror and agony before the sharp sting of something pricked her neck and Misty's eyes fluttered shut as she went limp.

“Heart rate almost negligible," reported another voice. “pulse weak, I... I think she's finally under, poor thing -"

“Gods, what a mess -" sighed the first voice, as he looked down at Misty's bloodied, ravaged form. “Alright team, let's do our best. Her wounds seem pretty bad; it'll be touch and go with her."

Amidst the chaotic scene, Misty's senses wavered between awareness, but helplessness and the blissful ignorance of unconsciousness. The masked figures, their words laden with a sense of urgency and concern, worked diligently to address Misty's injuries. The hissing of the gas persisted, mingling with the sterile scent of antiseptics and the low beeps of medical equipment. As Misty teetered on the edge of life and death, consciousness flowing and ebbing, the unknown fate of her injuries left her hanging in the balance.

When a cold, gloved paw pulled open her pouch, Misty struggled against the effects of the anesthetic and gas, but her weakened body refused her mental orders.

“No sign of joey presence, or embryo. Teats are small and regular in size. I'm guessing she's young, breeding age – just. Probably three or four -"

The words hung in the air, mingling with the persistent hissing of the gas and the low beeps of the medical equipment. Misty, caught between consciousness and the numbing effects of the anesthesia, strained to comprehend the information her ears were filled with.

One of the figures, perhaps the one who had murmured earlier, sighed with a mixture of exhaustion and sympathy. “Alright, let's address the wounds. This poor creature has been through hell."

Gloved hands worked with precision, tending to Misty's injuries. The masked figures exchanged tools and communicated in quiet voices, their movements a dance of expertise and urgency. Misty's body, temporarily surrendered to their diligent care, was helpless.

Amidst the procedure, the masked figures occasionally glanced at monitors displaying vital signs, painfully aware of the delicacy of the patient that lay on her back on the operating table. Their expressions shifted between concern and determination, as they continued to work. Misty, though unable to fully grasp the intricacies of their medical intervention, felt the ebb and flow of their efforts. Each touch was gentle, but the sharp sting of the needle as deep wounds were stitched closed, made her want to shriek in unimagined agony.

At last, the hissing of the gas eased, and the masked figures stepped back, as another injection was administered, their work complete. The room, once filled with the tension of a life hanging in balance, now held a different stillness – the anticipation of a recovery, Misty twitched, her gradual return to consciousness a slow, methodical movement.

“Let's move her to recovery, she'll need a heating pad, blankets, and quiet." One of them spoke.

Misty's limp body was carefully moved with care and gentleness, carried in a blanket sling into a dim, quiet room. Another hurried about, preparing the room, before Misty was carefully laid down. With a weak croak, Misty's eyes fluttered beneath her eyelids, still struggling to fight through the double-whammy of the sedatives that'd threatened to put her to sleep – forever.

“It's alright young one," Murmured a feminine voice – the one Misty's drugged brain barely recalled as the one that'd first checked her on the road. “Fight for me young one, if not for me – for yourself...please?"

Misty's eyes opened a crack, before she gazed up at the human woman, first seeing double, then triple, before Misty grunted again and her eyes slammed down, consciousness getting swept away once more.

*

Misty's eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the soft light of the recovery room. She felt the residual effects of the sedatives, her movements sluggish and uncoordinated. As she attempted to pull herself up, a gloved hand gently pressed her down. Misty, without conscious thought, relented and her exhausted, hurting body instantly fell back onto the warm, soft bed.

“Easy there," a calm voice spoke reassuringly. “you've been through quite an ordeal. Easy, steady – you must be thirsty..."

Misty blinked, barely able to lift her head as a bowl was held up to her lips and the slightest touch of the ice-cold water brushed against them. Driven by her thirst, Misty awkwardly lapped at the water gratefully.

“Easy girl, not too much -" spoke the feminine voice. “you're lucky to be alive, getting hit the way you did, you know that?"

Misty quivered and blinked, fighting to restore her muscular control, barely able to lift a paw more than an inch off the blanket. Internally, her mind was screaming in terror. It demanded she escape, run – get free anyway she had to. Wild impulses and thoughts make her fragile sanity fracture.

“It's alright, you're safe here - “Again that calming, gentle voice, lightly stroking Misty, trying to impart a sense of comfort and reassurance.

Misty lifted her head, her feral facade in place, as she remained silent, her large, dark eyes betraying a mix of wariness and vulnerability – and a frightening amount of pain.

“I know, I know, you're scared, hurting, and alone – I can get you something for the pain, it has been some time since you had any..." come that gentle, quiet voice, as a gloved hand lightly stroked Misty's upper leg.

As the gloved hand continued its surprisingly soothing strokes, Misty's eyes remained wary, but slowly, curiosity built within her.

“You've been through a lot, haven't you? I can't even begin to imagine what you've had to endure."

Misty remained silent, slowly feeling her muscles returning to their proper functionality. The pain that filled her, manifested in the way she involuntarily flinched as the careful nurse lightly stroked her fur.

“Easy darling, alright, I'll go get something for you. I can't give you too much, you've had way more tranquilizer than you should have already!"

Rising, the nurse smoothed down her uniform and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. Misty pulled the blanket off herself, then slapped her paws against the bed and clumsily pulled herself up onto her long feet. Swaying, Misty shook herself, then uttered a low hacking cough as she tentatively tried to hop, only to stumble and fall over, crashing into a table that fell over and scattered its contents everywhere.

Struggling back upright, Misty's head snapped left and right, looking for some way to escape, but only the closed door was the option she could perceive. Misty tensed and crouched as it opened, giving guttural grunts and coughs in primal fear and aggression, her entire body quivering.

“Woah, easy girl...easy!" Gasped the startled nurse. “Shh, it's alright, I know, you're frightened and... how the hell are you standing? You should be weaker than a newborn and..."

Misty, reaching breaking point, crouched lower, her aggressive posture more threatening. To her surprise, her caretaker crouched down, placing her palms on the ground and dropping her gaze, trying to appear less threatening.

“It's alright young one," She murmured, her voice compassionate and quiet. “No one here will hurt you, I promise, just... relax, okay? It's alright and..."

Misty, blinking in confusion, felt something about this human, as she slowly relaxed her threatening posture and timidly crawled forwards, then stopped and stared at the crouched nurse, before moving a little closer again – drawn by curiosity and a sense of suspicion, but a flicker of trust. Her instincts conflicted within her drug-addled mind – the desire to flee, to resist the touch of the human, yet that other side – knowing that this human hadn't hurt her, or done anything to frighten her.

“Easy girl," whispered the nurse, as she carefully withdrew a syringe and vial from a pocket, uncapping the needle. “This is just pain relief, a really small, fine needle – it won't hurt, I promise."

Quickly, the nurse measured out a dosage, then looking at Misty, added extra just to be sure. As she moved towards Misty, Misty grunted and twitched, but held herself still.

“Good girl, alright, easy now... It'll make you feel better, I promise, please? Trust in me just a little?"

Misty blinked, watching as the human reached out, timidly touching Misty's nape, then there was a prick – like the bite of a fly, and then a gentle stroking.

“There, all done! You were such a brave girl!" Smiled the nurse, as she sat down, folding her legs close, taking a chance.

The tension in Misty's body gradually eased as the medication took effect, Misty, at first frowned, then shook her head as the dozy warmth spread throughout her, taking away the throbbing pain.

“You're a brave young doe, you know that?" the voice murmured, her hand now lightly touching Misty's back. “Rest now little one. I'll take good care of you, easy..."

Misty snorted and wavered, before her hind legs faltered and she half-lay, half-sat up, looking confused and lost, her eyelids fluttering as she shook her head and lifted her head back up.

“It's alright, you need to rest, you need to recover your strength. We will move you to a more comfortable enclosure soon, get you some fresh air, a nice straw to sleep on, and some food – you must be hungry, surely?"

Misty blinked, her head swaying, as she fought against the drugs once more, but as she lay herself down, the caregiver gently lowering her head, Misty blinked once, then shivered and went still. For half an hour, her caregiver watched over her, tenderly stroking her, before awkwardly moving the kangaroo back onto her warm bed and covering her with a light blanket again.

“I'll come back in two hours, check on you again, rest now little one – I need to go write up a report about you." She told the sleeping doe, whose right ear flicked at the words.

Quietly, the nurse left the room and closed the door behind her.

To Be Continued...