Missing Person
"It's gonna be okay."
Ian squeezed at the boy's arm, smiling as best he could. He was tired - far more exhausted than he could remember being in quite a while, but it had been worth it. The boy looked away, staring at his lap, unmoving.
He sighed to himself and sat back, the old chair creaking under his weight. The station wasn't very busy this time of night. Two panthers were loitering near the watercooler, debating the merits of all-wheel drive cars. At the other end of the station, an old gray dog was leaning on his desk, trying to keep himself awake as he scanned the reports coming through on his terminal.
Ian looked over at the clock on the far wall - nearly two in the morning. His next shift started at nine, and he would have to leave soon if he had any hope of being functional in the morning. The boy - a diminutive badger - sniffed and shifted in his seat.
"How's it going over here?" Ian felt a paw on his shoulder and looked up, straight at the Chief. The wolf looked less haggard than usual. Ian wondered how he did it.
"All good, sir. Just waiting on the boy's parents. They should be here any minute," he said, glancing back at the clock.
"You look like hell, Jones," he said with a warm smile. "Go get some rest. I'll take care of this."
Ian looked back at the boy. He had been found a few hours earlier, wandering alone through a nearby park, crying his eyes out. A passerby had called it in to Social, and the station sent Ian out to fetch him. The boy had clung to him for a solid fifteen minutes, crying and shaking, struggling to explain how he had gotten lost.
He shrugged. "Thanks, Chief, but I think I'll see this one through."
The wolf nodded and padded off, heading for the nearly-dead dog. Ian checked the time again - two AM exactly.
The door to the station swung open and a pair of badgers, barely looking like they were out their teens, stumbled through. The boy snapped around at the noise, screamed happily and jumped off the chair, running straight across the station and leaping into his parents arms.
The panthers looked over for a moment, before returning to their debate. Ian stood up and brushed himself off, trying to compose himself for the last conversation of the day. The father spotted him and rushed over.
"You're the one that found him, right?" he asked, excitedly.
Ian nodded and extended his paw, but the badger leaned in and gave him a tight hug, squeezing him almost as tightly as his son had a few hours ago. Ian listened dutifully as the parent explained - they had been out at the park, Jack had been playing with some other kids, they had gotten distracted and lost sight of him, and by the time they wanted to leave they realized that he wasn't around.
All Ian could do was follow along, nodding solemnly at the right times, keeping his personal opinions about inexperienced, negligent parents masked. Eventually the story came to an end and the badger was staring at him, flushed, waiting for some sort of acknowledgement.
"You've got a good kid," Ian said, looking over at the mother. "He was really brave tonight. Just be careful in future, okay?"
The badger nodded, grabbing and shaking Ian's paw before heading back to his family. Ian watched them gather up their things and head out of the station before sitting down at his desk again. There was always a few minutes of paperwork to complete, and as dreary as it was, it always made Ian feel like he had accomplished something.
He closed the case, and it was replaced with the list of his unresolved missing person's reports - fourteen in the last six weeks. He stared blankly at the list for a moment. Every detail had already been burned into his brain, but that hadn't brought him any new insights.
With a heavy sigh he stood up, slinging his coat over his shoulder and locking his desk. Tomorrow would be another day.
The early morning air was dark, crisp, almost refreshing. Ian stepped out of the station, feeling the cool air on his exposed fur for a few moments before donning his coat. It was a short walk to the subway, and a two-stop ride to his apartment building.
He stared at the ground as he walked, turning over all the missing person's cases in his mind again, for the hundredth time that day. Fourteen teenagers, all between eighteen and twenty-four years old had gone missing from the nightclub district. Most of them were loners - isolated and single. Some were working, some were still in school. Some male, some female, some both.
Ian stopped at a sidewalk and waited for the light to turn green. There hadn't been a single car over this road for the last few hours, but he stopped anyway, staring at the light at the other end of the road as he thought.
There didn't seem to be a pattern, other than the general area of their last known locations. Some had families in the area, some did not. Four of the missing teenagers were Ward orphans, but that didn't seem to have any bearing on it.
Ian crossed when the light turned green, heading down the stairs to the subway. The tunnels were brightly-lit, loud, and smelled of old sweat and hot machines. He leaned against the platform wall, waiting for the next train to pass.
Most of the teenagers had personal net pages, all unremarkable. Two were into travel, a few were into writing, one was a sports fanatic. Some updated regularly, others infrequently. Four of them got into heated online arguments on a regular basis.
The sudden rush of wind in the tunnel announced the next oncoming train before the PA did. Ian stepped aboard and sat down - the train was almost entirely empty. He looked around at his fellow passengers - a tired-looking cheetah was staring into his portable, tinny music blaring out from his too-loud earbuds. A scruffy goat was sprawled out, asleep, just two benches down.
The train started to move, and Ian brought his mind back to the missing teenagers. He had interviewed all the families he could find, and they all had different stories to tell. Some of the kids were outgoing, some a bit more shy - some with friends, most without. He pictured all fourteen faces in his mind, trying to see even the faintest of connections between them, but it was impossible.
The train rumbled to a stop and the doors opened. He stepped out and headed for the exit, his legs back on automatic as his mind worked. In no time at all, he found himself at the front door of his building, then at the elevator, and finally at the door to his empty apartment.
Ian flopped into his single-seater couch, staring out into space, letting his mind wander. He had become numb over the last few weeks, burdened with the constant stress of knowing that there were missing teenagers out there, likely being held against their will, separated from their families. Chances were another teenager would be reported missing in the next few days, and he'd be powerless to help.
Just as powerless as when he was only seven years old, too young to understand that his parents had put him up for adoption. He remembered seeing the orphanage for the first time, and his parents for the last. He remembered the lonely nights and lonelier weekends as he tried and failed to make friends, eventually bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, the system kicking him around like an unwanted responsibility.
He had never gotten adopted, and instead went into civil service. The first day on the job as a probationary officer, he used his clearance to look up his parents. They had moved, abandoning Etrus for Treja, and the last information he could find showed that they had settled down and had another two children, and were apparently living happily.
In that moment, he finally rejected his parents, and the pain of it had burned cold inside him ever since. It drove him into civil service, singularly determined to save anyone and everyone he could from the pain of separation.
Ian pulled himself off the couch and padded over to his bed, pulling off his clothes and tossing them aside haphazardly. He flopped into bed, feeling the familiar anxiety pushing it's way up his chest, and promised to himself that he'd be strong this time, but it didn't matter.
The lights went out, and Ian cried himself to sleep.
"Morning!"
Jennifer was perpetually cheerful, which seemed at odds with the seriousness of her job. Ian put on the best smile he could, and returned the greeting. "You seem upbeat today."
"Got myself a date tonight! Barry texted this morning. I think he feels bad about last week."
Ian forced a grin, trying to ignore the twisting knife in his gut. "That sounds great! Hope you have a good time."
"Oh, I will, don't worry," she said with a conspiratorial wink. "Now, I've got some good news and some bad news for you."
Her tone darkened, and Ian sensed he was about to have a very long day. "Ok, let's start with the good news."
"One of your missing fourteen - Dylan - was found this morning. He's in holding."
"Wow," Ian started. He had a million questions.
"The bad news is, he's not in very good shape. It looks like he hasn't eaten in days, and he's a little bit out of his mind."
"What does that mean?"
Jennifer shook her head, sighing. "The psych isn't sure. He's babbling on about how he needs to get back to his family, but he doesn't seem to know who they are. And he keeps struggling every time we move him."
"Dylan's one of the orphans, though - he was given up at birth. Does he mean that he wants to go back to the orphanage?"
"No idea. When he's not babbling, he's sleeping. The psych's only been at it for the last hour though, and she's not really involved in the case."
"Can I see him?"
"Sure, but you'll have to do it quick. Social's coming this afternoon to collect him."
"Collect?"
"Yeah. He needs medical, and we're not equipped for that. They would have fetched him already, but the Chief talked them into giving you some time to interview him."
Ian nodded and pulled out his portable, unlocking it and pulling up his case notes. "Which room?"
Dylan was slumped in the corner, staring at the floor. The gray prison jumpsuit seemed almost baggy on his thin frame. His face looked haggard and drawn, his eyes unfocused.
Ian nodded to the psych and she stepped away. Ian closed the door behind him and sat down. His presence seemed to go unnoticed.
"Dylan?"
The tiger didn't move. Ian gave it a few moments.
"Dylan Kemp? Do you know where you are?"
He mumbled something in response. Ian switched on the voice recorder and put his portable down on the table.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?"
"I want to go home," he muttered, staring at the table.
"Where is home?"
Dylan looked up, suddenly angry. "I want to go home!"
Ian raised his arms in surrender. "Okay, okay, you want to go home. I want to help you go home, but I need to know where that is."
Dylan narrowed his eyes and stared at Ian without saying anything.
"Is home here, in Etrus?"
Dylan shook his head. "Home is in the dark," he said, starting to smile. "Dark and warm, and real. Black, and bright, and purple, and it's inside."
"Inside?"
Dylan cocked his head, staring at Ian curiously. "It's not inside you," he said.
"I'm sorry?"
Dylan sighed and cradled his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. "I want to go home."
Ian watched him for a few moments more, but he said nothing. Ian cleared his throat.
"Is home back at St. Christopher?"
Dylan suddenly slammed his fists into the table, screaming. "No! No no no! Home is inside, family is inside, why won't you let me go home?"
The door to the holding cell burst open, and the psych rushed in, followed by her assistant. She looked upset.
"Officer, my patient's had enough. This interview is over."
Ian watched the holding cell door from his desk, fretting over his next move. Social was on the way, and after they took him in, he'd probably never get another chance to talk to him. Whatever had happened to him had probably happened to the others too - how many more were staggering around out there?
"Jones?"
The Chief had appeared next to him, looking concerned.
"Yes sir?"
"You look anxious." It wasn't so much a question, as a statement of fact.
"Social's on the way, and they're taking Dylan. I'm never gonna see him again, and this is the best lead I've had in weeks. I've got to talk to him again."
"What'll that get you? Poor kid's lost his mind."
"I don't know, something," Ian sighed.
"You know," the Chief said, watching the holding room door. "As crazy as he is, that kid's pretty strong. I've seen this sort of thing a few times - Social usually underestimates how driven some folks are. If Dylan wants to go home, wherever that is, he's gonna find a way to get there."
Ian frowned. "Okay?"
The Chief grinned at him. "Considered tagging along?"
Ian watched as Dylan was marched out of the station in full restraint, flanked by two burly Social workers and the psych. As soon as they were out of the building, he turned his attention to the terminal, watching as the little blue dot moved away from the station entrance and into the parking lot.
Ian breathed a sigh of relief. The locator was working. Assuming they didn't check the inside of his left shoe, he'd know exactly where Dylan was.
"Crazy little toys, huh?" The Chief was standing over Ian's shoulder, watching the same display.
"Thanks, Chief, I really appreciate this."
"Don't sweat it, kid. I want those kids found every bit as much as you do. Just be careful out there, okay?"
It happened at sunset. Ian had checked the map every few minutes, willing the little blue dot to break out of the Social center box. When it finally did, he couldn't contain his excitement.
The broadcast announcement of Dylan's escape hit the police scanner less a few minutes later, and it was good news - they had completely lost him, and were appealing to all officers to be on the lookout. Night would soon fall though, and it wouldn't be very difficult for Dylan to evade detection.
Ian set his portable to follow Dylan's marker, then set out across the city, jogging down side streets and alleys, trying to catch up to him. His route took him away from the city center, out to the industrial district. Office blocks and apartments gave way to warehouses and small factories.
He felt for his sidearm again, an unconscious habit whenever he was out on patrol. The last thing he wanted was an armed confrontation, but his paranoia had built up over the last few weeks, and he'd been brushing up on his small arms training.
He checked his portable. Dylan was only three blocks away, having finally stopped inside a building. Ian tapped it and requested more information. It was a small-scale hydroponics farm, apparently with poor security.
From the outside, the warehouse looked unremarkable, and Ian could see the outer gate had been forced open. He considered calling for backup, but decided against it. No point in raising the alarm until he'd had a chance to talk to Dylan again.
Ian stepped inside the warehouse. There were very few lights on. He could barely make out the shapes of the hydroponic growth tanks. He checked his portable again - his own marker was less than fifty meters away from Dylan.
Something rushed past, just out of Ian's vision and he froze. Was there someone else here?
"Hello?" he called out, hearing his voice echo. Nothing.
He stepped forward, resting his hand on his holstered sidearm, peering as best he could into the darkness. "I'm officer Jones, thirteenth precinct. Dylan, are you in here?"
His voice bounced off the walls and was swallowed up by the darkness. He found himself wishing he had a flashlight with him, when he felt another rush of wind behind him.
He spun, panicking, drawing his weapon. There was something else here, but it was impossible to make out anything in the dim light.
"Dylan?" he called out again. He heard a faint moan, coming from somewhere to his right. He sprinted over, pulling out his portable and using it to cast some light ahead of him. He thought he spotted something on the ground - it looked like a person curled underneath a blanket.
"Dylan? Are you alright?" as Ian drew closer the shape resolved a bit more. It wasn't a blanket. He wasn't sure what it was - it shined with a dull reflection from his makeshift light.
And then it moved.
Ian dropped his portable in fright, and it clattered to the ground, casting a faint blue light all around him. He could see it clearly now - a blank, humanoid mass, covered in what looked like soft rubber, writhing and moaning softly.
"He's been a good boy," came a voice from behind him. Ian yelled out in panic and spun, sidearm raised - and then he froze.
"Wh...what are you?"
It was a monster - no doubt about it. The creature stood at least seven feet tall, black and glistening with the same dull glow of the lump on the ground. His chest and neck were streaked with purple markings, an oversized set of wings spread out behind him. The creature grinned at him, an unnatural intelligence behind his eyes.
"What are you?" it responded, almost playfully. It's voice was deep, almost mellow, and it had a familiar ring to it. He kept his weapon pointed at the monster's head.
"I'm ... I'm a police officer," Ian started, feeling totally unsure of what to say. His mind was racing. He had never seen a creature like this, and every fear response in his brain was lighting up, telling him to run.
"I see," it said, grinning at him. "You're a long way from home."
The monster stepped forward, coming a little closer to the light. Ian was frozen in place, trapped between the monster advancing on him, and the black lump writhing on the floor behind him.
"What makes you say that?" Ian asked, trying to remember where he dropped his portable without taking his eyes off the monster. If he could reach it, he could send a distress signal.
"This is no place for detectives like you," it said, stepping forward again. Ian saw something out of the corner of his eye and glanced down, at the monster's waistline. He felt a flush of embarrassment break through his panic as he saw the monster's flaccid penis, swinging in the open air.
"I, uh..." he started, looking back up at the monster. It - he - was close enough now that Ian could make out a soft glow behind the monster's eyes. It smiled at him.
"Put down the gun, Ian," he said, calmly. Ian stared at him for a few moments, processing the ridiculous request. The monster reached out a claw and rested it atop the gun, slowly pushing it towards the floor. Ian felt himself let go of the gun, and it clattered to the floor.
"Wait, how did you know my name?"
"Your brother told me," the monster said, sounding amused.
"You seem so sure of yourself," he said, in an almost sing-song voice. Ian caught himself staring at the monster again, his panic starting to subside. It didn't look like the monster wanted to hurt him. Maybe it wasn't really a monster at all. He was going to be okay.
"Well, I am sure. I don't have any family."
The monster chuckled. "Then why did you come here?"
Ian was starting to feel a bit more confident about his situation. He could probably talk his way out of this, get out of the warehouse, and call backup. He was starting to suspect that somehow - some crazy, insane explanation notwithstanding - the lump on the floor was Dylan.
"To find a missing person. It's my job," he said, trying to sound as level as he could. The monster simply nodded.
"And if you find him, what then?" The monster was watching him intently now.
"Well, then ... " Ian trailed off. He was sure about what had to happen next - the report, the interview, following up on leads, finding the rest of the missing kids. But somehow, none of those words made it out of his mouth.
The monster stepped forward again, and Ian could see the creature's impressive wingspan spreading out behind it. In a strange way, it seemed almost beautiful to him.
"Then you go back to your empty home, and your empty life," the monster said. The matter-of-fact tone caught Ian off guard.
"No, that's ... What do you know?"
The monster laughed. "I know. And I know you hate being alone."
Ian tried to protest, but couldn't find the words. He didn't know if it was the warehouse, the completely alien situation, or the fact that a big, naked bat was looming over him, but it was becoming difficult to think clearly.
He caught himself simply staring into the monster's eyes. Something about them felt familiar, and he felt an unusual relaxation coming over him as he stared. He wasn't sure whether to be worried or not.
"You want to be a good boy, don't you?" the monster asked, inching a little closer. Ian blinked, unsure what to make of the question, but it turned over in his mind all the same. He thought about how hard he worked, how much he cared, and found himself slowly nodding without really thinking about it.
The monster grinned. "Of course you do. And good boys obey their masters, don't they?"
Ian frowned. He hadn't ever considered this before. He felt his mind starting to clear as he thought about it. Yes, he supposed - if you had a master, it would make sense to obey them. Nothing wrong with respecting authority.
"They do..." Ian heard himself say, as it from a distance. The panic and fear of the last few minutes had all but disappeared, and he felt a strange warmth bubbling up inside him as he stood there, acclimatizing to the monster's presence, with those wonderfully warm eyes and smooth voice. He felt vaguely happy to temporarily forget where he was, or what he was meant to be doing.
"That's right," the monster continued, nodding. "And you will obey me now."
"I, uhh..." Ian trailed off. Something felt a little out of place, but he couldn't put his finger on it. The warmth rising up from inside him was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable, and he fidgeted where he stood, unsure what he was supposed to be doing. He stared back up at the monster, feeling all of his words dry up.
"Take off your clothes." The command shot through Ian like a drug, compelling him to obey. The tiny voice of dissent in his brain was drowned out by the sound of the monster's voice in his mind. In no time at all, his shirt, pants, shoes and underwear all came off.
"That's good," the monster said with a grin. "You'll make a good slave, won't you?"
"Yes, master." Ian said, feeling a strange rush of pleasure through his crotch as he did. He didn't just want to be a good slave, he wanted to be used. All sorts of strange ideas flashed through his mind. He saw himself bent over on the ground, his limbs held in place against the floor as his master slowly slid his rigid cock into him, moaning uncontrollably from the sheer pleasure.
He saw Dylan, looking happy as he knelt down and took Ian's cock into his muzzle, sucking him off as a warm sensation crept across his back. In his mind, he felt his master's warm body press against his own, his lustrous black skin crawling through his fur, covering it and absorbing his body.
He saw every dark moment in his past - when he had been abandoned, every friendship that failed, every time he felt the twisting jealousy of seeing others be happy and loved - and he let it all go. He felt his master's love racing through him, healing every wound, and he happily surrendered to it, letting his broken identity get washed away in a sea of bliss, finally finding peace in his master's winged embrace.
The monster stepped forward, lowering his wings around the dazed Ian, slowly closing and then constricting them a little. He lowered his muzzle against Ian's neck.
"You're mine now," he said, opening his jaw and suddenly biting down hard, sinking his teeth into Ian's shoulder, releasing his stored venom. Ian yelped in pain, suddenly fully awake. He struggled against the monster's grip, trying to break free, but it was too late.
Ian felt the stabbing darts of pain in his neck fade as the monster's venom took hold. He could feel his body going numb, limb by limb, as it coursed through his body. The monster released its grip and he staggered back, falling backwards on to the cold concrete floor.
He felt the numbing sensation crawl up the back of his neck. He knew what was coming - what the venom would do to him. He now understood what had happened to Dylan. The monster had taken everything away from him, turning him into a mindless, obedient sex slave. The same thing was about to happen to him, and he couldn't stop it. He had failed.
The world went blurry as he started crying, his mind beginning to cave in. He tried holding on to the fear, but that didn't last long. This must be what death feels like, was his last thought as the monster's spell took over completely, and Ian ceased to exist.
"That's better," the monster said, licking his lips. "From now on, you will respond only to the name of 'slut', do you understand?"
"Yes, master," the slut droned.
"Excellent. I'm very proud of your brother, Dylan. He came back home all by himself, and he should be rewarded, don't you think, slut?"
"Yes, master."
"You feel an uncontrollable lust building inside you. You want to get down on all fours, and let him fuck you for as long as he wants. You will obey all of his commands, and you will love being his fucktoy."
The slut obediently climbed up on all fours, steadying himself against the concrete. He could hear the writhing blob behind him shifting, then standing up and walking over to him.
Dylan knelt down behind him, resting his rigid cock against the inside of the slut's thigh. He felt the tiger's paws sliding up his sides, moaning softly at the touch. He felt an itch building in his belly, intensifying with every moment the tiger didn't penetrate him. He spread his legs and rode his hips against the tiger's crotch, moaning and begging to be fucked.
The monster smirked at the display, turning to leave just as the tiger entered his new toy with a lustful moan. Better to let them get acquainted at their own pace.
The night slowly rolled into morning. The rising sun peeked through the clouds, promising a bright new day. In the distance, the noise of city life started to build as people spilled out of their apartments, herding themselves into coffee shops, preparing for another day at the office.
Raak sat on the balcony, watching the horizon and sipping his coffee. He was expecting another slow day at the factory. Nothing exciting would really happen until harvest season, but the hydroponics still needed to be maintained, and he didn't have anywhere else to be.
"Raak!"
He peered over the balcony. His secretary was standing in the loading yard with what looked like two police officers. Raak set down his coffee and found his way downstairs.
"Good morning," he said, smiling. "What can I do for you?"
"We're looking for two missing persons, and have reason to believe they were here last night."
"Really?" Raak was surprised. He had been here all night - there hadn't been any intruders.
"Yes - Dylan Kemp and Ian Jones," said the female officer, showing him her portable.
Raak recognized the faces, somewhere deep down in his subconscious. An moment flashed into his mind - the tiger, bound and collared, moaning lustfully as he was slowly penetrated - dark, rubbery latex on matted fur, the tiger struggling, losing, and surrendering his identity in that moment, becoming an obedient, empty shell.
Raak shook his head. "Sorry, I haven't seen those two around here, and I've been here all night."
The officer nodded and put her portable away. "Do you mind if we take a look around?"
Raak nodded. "Anywhere you like."
He watched as they walked off towards the warehouse, reaching down and adjusting the sudden partial erection in his pants.
There would be time for that later.