To Live Alone
#1 of Jaereth
Short story about a character of mine, Jaereth.
Jaereth. That's his name. He...thinks. He closes his eyes tight, tucks his tail under, and tries to remember.
He was just a normal guy, a totally normal guy. Almost boring. Well...almost. He did have a second job that most wouldn't dare try. Wouldn't even think about it. Jaereth, though...he thought about it. He had to.
He was walking home, a back pack slung over his shoulder. Over the same shoulder, a duffel bag also sat. The straps were digging into his shoulder, but he accepted it. He tolerated it. Someone watching might find his route home odd. He went from his high school to his apartment, of course. But he took a long, winding route. Now and then, he'd stop and travel down an alleyway, changing his course completely. He'd be in the short alleyway for longer than one would think it would take to walk a passage between two buildings, but no one asked.
"Eh, got the stuff?"
Grunted a large man. He was black, and his muscles were large and covered in a thick fur of body hair. Jaereth nodded and slung his duffle bag to the ground. He crouched over it, glancing up constantly to the man. His shoulders were ducked down, their peaks almost to his ears, as he searched through the bags of powder, of liquid, of vials. They clinked and shuffed as he searched, finally finding a vial of an amber liquid, a dime bag of powder, and a bag with a small plastic nub to stick a needle in full of a tar-like liquid. He separated these from the bag and stood, goods in hand.
"Yeah, these are what he ordered. Three hundred for the dime and the nectar...but this..."
He held the bag of liquid closer to his body, as if protecting it.
"This is a bit rarer. A thousand."
The man had already counted out six hun for the good, and was ready to count out more for the bag. But then he snatched the money back to the bundle and scowled.
"My boss won't like that, kid."
Jaereth held his ground, but the man was adamant. Whereas the man, the grunt, was large and muscular, Jaereth was much smaller. He was slightly tanned, and his muscle tone was just above average for an athletic teen. He was skittish, though, and always looking over his shoulder. He didn't use, but he'd seen what people might do to get their fix. His hand slipped into his pocket, closing around the pocket knife he'd stashed in his duffle bag and moved to his pocket after school. He'd never needed it, but...
"Kid, one last chance. Give me the shit."
So the man had seen Jaereth's hand slip into his pocket, curl around the object inside. Now, he slipped it out, holding it tight with his thumb nail under the ridge of the blade.
Almost before he knew it, the large man was on top of him, and Jaereth was on the ground, his head bleeding from where it had hit the concrete. He lifted his arms, his flesh looking pure white in the fuzzy, dark world he'd entered. With a pounding like a tsunami's waves, he blacked out.
Yes...that was it. That was when he'd last been awake. At least, the last time he could remember. He moved his body slowly, his numb body parts crackling back to life with painful bursts of static. He groaned and sat up, stretching his arms high over his head. Something flopped at the ground behind him, and he stretched his back to look at it. In the dull light, he just saw a...fluffy tail? It was dark grey and had long fur on it. He reached back slowly to touch it, but right as his fingers met the fur, he realized his hand had fur, too! Same color. Little, dull claws sprang from his fingertips as well. He turned back around to stare at them.
His fingertips and palms had thick paw pads on them, and he took another similarly furred hand and pulled at the fur.
"Yowch!"
He growled, recoiling from the sharp pain pulling his fur had caused. What...?
Just then, the door opened with a slam. He looked up, seeing a large man with dark brown fur and a thick belly. He...was the man from before! But now he had the short muzzle of a bear. Was he hallucinating?
"Eh, the boss wants to see you."
The bear-man growled, tapping his foot-paw. He was naked, just like Jaereth, and a small red-pink tip peeked out of his sheath. Jaereth backed away, not wanting anything to do with this man. The cell/room he was in only let him back away a few feet. The man stomped forward, grabbed his arm, and pulled him sharply out of the room and down the hallway.