FSE

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The walls were dirty, and it smelled of puke.

The walls were always dirty. Even though the grumpy dog who was cleaning the floors came through every day. He always came during the afternoon nap time. He wiped the linoleum with smelly chlorine bleach, then left. Most likely he didn't even see the the dirty walls. Programmed to clean the floor he did only that. That's what they paid him for.

The wardens didn't care either. And neither did any of the other cubs.

Samantha stared at one particular stain. There were really a lot of stains on the wall, but this stain was special.

It was hers.

It wasn't even a very big stain, and it didn't smell either. But it was a blood stain. It was now dark brown, almost black, and dusty. They had smashed her against the wall right there, beaten her, yelled at her, then left her. And the wardens hadn't cared. It had been on the first day. She hadn't know the rules yet. She hadn't known, the wolf cups always had their lunch first.

Samantha had been hungry. And there had been food!

She was always hungry. She could barely remember not being hungry.

In the streets, she took what others threw away. Sometimes she took from little street food cart. Most of the vendors thought it was cute when a little mouse girl nabbed one of their sweets and ate it. But she had gotten too bold, and this one vendor had not been nice at all, had held her, had called the police. And ever since, she was here.

Here, among the stains.

Officially the place was called "New Hope - Correctional Youth Education facility and Orphanage". But there was no hope to be found here. Only beatings, and shouting, and punishment.

This one stain described the last few months of Samantha's life so well, it was like a focus point.

Someone yelled her name, but she didn't respond. Then someone yanked her arm and pulled. It was a strong hand, it had to be one of the wardens. He kept shouting at her, then dragged her to the sleeping room. So the cleaning dog could come and ignore the stains again.

Later she was in the bed. Despite her grey mouse fur she felt cold. Barely any of the cubs slept, but she didn't listen to their talk. She closed her eyes and pretended they weren't there.

Who said they were there? Maybe they didn't even exist. Maybe this was a dream?

She knew she wasn't dreaming, she was awake, but... what if reality was just a dream?

Certainly hers was a nightmare. One she couldn't wake up from. But if she just didn't listen, and kept her eyes closed, maybe she could pretend it didn't exist. Could dream something else instead?

She tried to imagine herself on a green meadow with her mom, and her friend. Her mom was dead, raped and stabbed and left to die in a side alley. And her friend had never been anything but imaginary. But in her mind they came alive. They ate a picnic, full of fruits and sandwiches, and her mom hugged her and then she ran and played chase with her friend...

Something hard hit her in the head. She screamed and opened her eyes and the nightmare was back. The nightmare took the form of a toothy grin in the face of a hyena girl looming over her mattress.

Lydia had been punished and her punishment was to make all the beds. Someone had to do that every day. That meant nap time was over and everyone else was out in the yard to play. But Lydia had been lucky in her punishment. One of the beds wasn't empty, and she had found a victim.

Out in the yards the wards would interfere if a cub were to severely injure another. But here, here no one would come.

Lydia was strong enough to pick up Samantha by the throat with both hands, then hold her against the wall. All the mouse could do was to cling on to her arms so her weight wasn't entirely held by her neck. She didn't really listen to what Lydia yelled at her. It was mean, as always. She tried to look through the hyena girl with the crooked nose.

Lydia also was missing some teeth. She had been in a lot of fights, and it showed, even though she won most. The lack of response from Samantha seemed to make her more angry.

Suddenly Samantha saw a new emotion in her tormentor's eyes. Something feral. Something hungry. Something that sent a cold shiver of dread down the little mouse' veins. She went completely limp and stared wide eyed at the older girl.

Samantha tried not to think of the things the hyena might do to her, but she kinda knew. Some deep ancient instinct told her all that was to know about this situation.

She was prey. Lydia was a predator.

A hungry predator.

And Samantha knew all about hunger. She just had never imagined what it was like to be on the other side.

What was it like, to be food?

Something in the little mouse girl's mind told her, she should be terrified, that she should scream, that she should do anything to get anyone's attention.

But another part of Samantha wanted nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare. And that part of her, deep down, realized that the nightmare was only truly over when the monster finally got you. That, when you stared back into its eyes and faced it, the monster stopped being scary.

And Samantha knew all about hunger. She knew hunger better than anyone. She knew exactly what Lydia felt, beyond the rage and the cruelty and the need to be the biggest bully in the block.

So the little mouse girl went limp in Lydia's strong hands, met her hungry gaze with a submissive little smile, and even nodded, ever so slightly.

It was so easy. How couldn't she have seen it earlier. Everything made sense now.

She was food! She now had a purpose!

Had she screamed, maybe someone would have come to check. But Samantha remained silent like the little mouse she was. Not a squeak came over her lips, as the hungry hyena's fangs came closer and closer, as the older girl let go of her neck and grabbed her under the shoulders, so she could wrap her fangs around the poor little mouse' throat.

The pain almost ruined it. It felt so real, she couldn't not fight against it. Fight it with every strength and every flicker of life force she had. Instincts told her she was in mortal danger and no sense of acceptance or being food could deny the harsh reality of agony. Her mouth opened for a scream, and her paws on both arms and legs thrashed to fend of her assailant.

But only a gurgling gasp escaped her, and her strength was futile against the much older predator. So she fought the pain instead, clenched her own teeth and closed her mouth, tears in her eyes pressed shut. Just as she clenched her maw shut, she felt Lydia's jaws meet each other, crushing what little resistance her throat had provided. For a split second the pain was not as pad and she dared to glimpse through teary eyes.

Then Lydia ripped her head back and tore out a whole chunk of Samantha's neck. Suddenly she could breathe again, but the air came gurgling from the gaping hole in her neck. No air reached her tongue or mouth, but a shower of crimson rained instead over Lydia and the rusty bed and the walls, adding so many new stains that now no body could ignore.

With eyes wide, Samantha felt more alive than she ever had, even though it was now draining out of her. Her eyes and Lydia's met again, and she almost loved the hyena for the hungry, feral, ecstatic joy. It was the only appreciation the little mouse had gotten or ever would get in this forsaken house.

Samantha went limp in Lydia's arms. She barely felt the next bite, as the hungry predator in Lydia, acting on feral instincts, took over and tore her to shreds. Reality blurred and faded from the fringes, and this time it was so much easier to dismiss it.

Duller and duller became the pain, and Samantha did not hesitate to let go and let herself fade away. She replaced the grim world with her own, much more powerful image. Her mom and her friend on the grassy meadow, awaiting her with open arms. It was all so clear now, and nothing could hold her back. Nothing.

Her last thoughts were about Lydia. She'd be in trouble for what she had done. Big trouble.

Maybe, just maybe, she'd invite Lydia to her new reality, too. To come here with her and play on her meadow with her and her friends.... That would be nice...

After all, she was the only cub who had ever shown her mercy:

She had shown her the way out.

<End>