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The AdvAnTAGE Project: Compassionate Creatures

By Mantrid Brizon

(02/18/2021)

Walking along the old, forgotten trail, Johnny wades through a puddle of fetid muck. After a brief struggle with the stinking filth, he manages to return to dry land, continuing along the ancient path. The Georgia swamps are especially potent this late in August, but he doesn't care. He needs the quiet of the old forest, to clear his head. Only a week ago, he and his friends watched the famous and infamous 60 Minutes interview. What a wonder of science that little girl is! The twenty-year-old man, who always had a fondness for science fiction and fantasy, was quite intrigued by Harriet, but his friends did not share his enthusiasm.

Seeing their disgust at the playful, child-like creature, the unsophisticated though open-minded man of the small Georgia town didn't voice his true opinions. If he was to be perfectly honest, he isn't even sure what those opinions are. Certainly, a creature that's sentient has a right to live. A dog and a cat have the right to live, until they prove dangerous or vicious, so why not give this new creature a chance?! However, the snickers and taunts of his friends, directed at the television set, gave him pause.

For the past few days, he's struggled with his work, his mind forever racing. His boss at the muffler and body shop has been very accommodating, though that's likely because of the untimely death of his parents to a car accident, just before the new year. They were his only family. Still, he made a mess of his last job, and Mr. Johnson wasn't pleased.

“Get yer head outta the clouds, boy!" He growled. “I given ya' a pass for a long time now, but ya' need to keep it together, son."

“Sorry, boss. I'll do better." Johnny replied.

Johnny has always been a bit of a dreamer, and while his parents found that trait endearing, everyone else saw fit to tease him. Johnny was never going to do anything with his life! They knew it, and in the pit of his stomach, Johnny knew it, too. He follows the trail as it rounds a bend, and soon he comes upon the old road. The weeds grow tall and thick, covering up the cobblestone that once lined the streets of the old, abandoned town. As of 1996, it's been uninhabited for just over sixty years, ever since the one and only factory went under, and the then-new roads went through another town.

So old and isolated is this once bustling village that even the braves of the local youths don't bother to hike the dozen or so miles. There are closer, cleaner places to drink, smoke and spray graffiti. In fact, to Johnny's knowledge, he's the only person with the sand to visit the ghost town. Perhaps his courage is boosted with his Harrington & Richardson Sportsman 999? When his parents died, he inherited his father's and grandfather's firearms, a limited and somewhat archaic collection though it may be. Whenever he exposes himself to danger, he makes certain to carry something, legal or not, and the nine-shot, .22 LR revolver that's thrice as old as he is has always been a wonderful travel companion.

As he makes his way through the desolate pathways that were once streets, he looks upon the crumbling remains of the old wooden buildings. Some of them are nothing more than foundations, while others are severely damaged. Rickety beams struggle to support crooked roofs, which have lost most of their shingles decades ago, to the storms of the hurricane season. A door creaks, snapping against a frame that no longer fits, swaying back and forth in the gentle breeze.

Johnny sighs and wipes the sweat from his brow, turning his attention toward the only building worth mentioning. The old factory, the former life-blood of the decaying corpse of a town, was built of steel reinforced concrete, and was quite a sight back in the 1920s. Now it's only a skeleton, a ghost of its former self, but it's dark and it'll provide shade. As a thunderclap startles the young man, he turns his head and peers at the sky.

“Ah, shit... Another squall." He murmurs.

The sudden appearance of wind and rain isn't an uncommon phenomenon, and so eager was Johnny to take his meditative walk that he didn't even think to pack any gear. In fact, all he has is his leather flap-holster for his revolver, a fixed bladed Buck knife and his usual belt pouch, a military style ALICE butt pack. The only thing in that pouch is a simple lunch, a fire starter, a tiny Ziploc bag with extra ammo, and a few bottles of water.

He dashes through the tall weeds that jut out between the cobblestones like the brushstrokes of an abstract painting. Another thunderclap and soon he can feel the wind. It's not far, now. He races up the steps and through the front doors of the old factory, swiftly sliding them closed. Just in time. A rainstorm chases him all the way to the door, pouring bone-chilling water all over the ghost town. Standing at the doorway, Johnny breathes a sigh of relief.

“That was close. The hell was I thinkin', leavin' without my rain poncho?! Ya' smarter than that, Johnny!" He thinks aloud.

No sooner than he catches his breath, Johnny jumps at the sudden sound of a thick glass bottle bouncing off of the floor above him. It rolls, the high-pitched noise echoing throughout the entire structure. He pulls open the flap of his holster and draws the revolver. Maybe it was the wind? Most of the windows are broken. Perhaps someone's empty bottle, after sitting on a windowsill for sixty years, finally blew over? A strange thump, and then the bottle clanks before rolling loudly across the floor. Someone's inside! Johnny cocks the hammer of his revolver. Normally, he's not so jumpy, but the last time a hiker ran across a stranger in the woods, he was a mentally unstable homeless man. The hiker's body was found, hacked to pieces, some of which were in the homeless man's makeshift crockpot.

“Ain't no crazies gonna eat me." He whispers to himself.

For as nervous as he is, though, Johnny was always an inquisitive sort. Why merely stand by the door, his gun at the ready, when he might be able to see who it is? After a brief and silent debate with himself, Johnny decides to take the chance.

“After all..." He thinks to himself. “What have I got to lose? I ain't go nobody but a handful a' friends."

Taking out a cheap pen light, often used by Johnny to check the wiring and lines of the cars he repairs, he begins to explore the factory. He clears the rooms just like he's seen in those cop shows he loves so much, making his way toward the stairwell. To his credit, Johnny has explored the ghost town, and especially the old factory, countless times; he knows these buildings like the back of his hand. He climbs the stairs very carefully. He avoids the debris that litters the ground, most of which hasn't moved since his last visit, at the beginning of spring. He does, however, notice something peculiar.

In the dust that coats the concrete floors and steps are strange drag marks. Too thin to be made by a person's body, unless that person was a child, the drag marks are accompanied by what he would assume is shuffling feet, but these prints don't look like any footwear he's ever seen. Following the trail in the dirt, he heads for a room at the west end of the complex. He swiftly jumps past the archway, shoving his back against the wall. He tried and failed to look inside, imitating a professional Agent. He leans over and peers inside, using the flashlight to look into the large room.

After a brief glimpse of the clearly vacant room, void of all machinery and furnishings, he decides to take a chance. He darts inside, his gun and flashlight held before him, his arms crossed at the wrist. Passing by a few smaller rooms on either side, he doesn't bother to so much as glance inside, focused on the corners of the larger, T-shaped room.

“Huh... Nothin'!"

He scratches his head with the hand that holds the flashlight, peering at the dirty, shattered windows that line the far end of the room. He leans over and looks down, lifting the flap of his holster before carefully lowering the hammer of his revolver and returning it to its leather carrier. He approaches the window and peers outside, looking through the cleanest of the windows. Though the image is heavily distorted, he knows what he's looking at.

“Damn... Now that's some storm, right there!"

His heart skips a beat as the bottle is kicked across the room. What's that noise?! It's deep and throaty, like growling! It doesn't sound like a human, but more like the gators that infest the swamps. Turning around and holding up the pen light, he stares in horror at the creature standing about a dozen feet behind him. He shrieks and falls back, the light hitting the creature in the face, which it quickly shields. Johnny stands a solid six-feet-tall, but whatever this creature is stands a whole head taller than him. Stumbling back from the disorienting brightness of the light, the creature also shrieks and then darts away, its feet thumping loudly. Before he has a chance to lift his head, his body slumped against the wall as he sits beneath the row of windows, the creature is gone.

“Holy damn... What the hell was that?!" He asks himself, struggling to retrieve his twenty-two-caliber revolver.

He holds up the weapon and glances at it, only to take a second look. Johnny shakes his head and sighs.

“This pea shooter prolly won't do nothin' to somethin' that big... Should'a brought the forty-five."

As Johnny pauses to listen, he can hear the thumping growing softer. The large creature scurries away, as if it was a frightened cat. He furls his brow and ponders the situation.

“It didn't attack me. I didn't even have a weapon out, and it still ran... How long was it watchin' me, anyway?! Maybe it was just curious!"

Rising to his feet, he looks into the rooms he'd passed, a large broom closet and an old utility room, with some rusty tools still strewn about the floor. He can see the marks where the creature had hidden itself in the corner of the broom closet, only to step out and watch him. If it was a threat to him, wouldn't it have attacked him when he had his back turned? A tinge of guilt washes over the young man.

“Aww, I think I scared it... Maybe it's still here?!"

With his fear melting away, replaced by curiosity, Johnny begins his search. He looks toward the floor, now realizing that the strange marks in the dirt are from the creature's long, tapering tail and inhuman feet. Watching the trail, he periodically looks up and glances around.

“Hello? Are ya' here? I'm sorry if I scared ya'. I'm not gonna hurt ya'." He calls out with a soft and gentle voice.

He follows the trail back down the stairs and then around a corner. It'd run through a hall and toward the east end, before making its way down to the basement. Down there, he won't have any light except for his pen light; there aren't any windows in the basement, which has always given him an uneasy feeling. With a loud gulp, he takes a deep breath and prepares himself. He moves slowly down the steps, making note of older marks in the dust. Perhaps the creature came into the building through the basement? It's then that he recalls the old drainage pipes.

Buildings such as this one often had large drainage tunnels, back when sewers were big enough to walk through. Even a creature of that size might have used the old sewer to take shelter in the factory. He walks slowly and methodically down the steps, a tunnel of concrete that takes him to the next landing. Upon reaching the landing, he finds himself standing in the massive, open space of the basement. So deep and vast is the basement, that his puny flashlight can barely illuminate the other side. He points toward the old power generators, nothing but shells of their former selves.

“Hello? Are ya' down here? I'm not gonna hurt'cha. I promise."

As his flashlight scans the walls, he walks toward the steps leading down to the lowest level. He stops, however, as soon as his flashlight illuminates something startling. Something pokes out of the water, near the drainage tunnel. It looks like the head of an alligator, but different! Bigger, and pink! Strange eyes stare at him, only to blink and turn away when the light strikes it.

“Oh, I'm sorry!" He turns the light upward. “Is that better? I didn't mean to blind ya'!"

The creature blinks several more times, then turns its head toward him. In the water it remains, waiting and watching. The edge of the flashlights beam is enough for him to see the beast, and he finds himself quite curious.

“You got some interestin' colors. I never seen a gator like you before. I never seen one walk on two legs, neither."

Taking a seat on the top step of the landing, he uses a rock to prop up his little pen light. Holding up his revolver as he rests his forearms over his knees, he can see the apprehension in the creature's face. It turns its eyes, looking toward the pistol. Johnny looks at the weapon and immediately feels foolish.

“I'm sorry. I guess I don't really need this, huh?" He speaks softly to the creature as he holsters the revolver for a second time. “This old twenty-two prolly wouldn't scratch ya', anyhow." He remarks with a soft chuckle. “I said I ain't gonna hurt'cha', and I'm a man of my word... Just, uhm... Don't make me out to be the fool, okay?"

The pair sit in silence for some time, staring silently at each other. Suddenly, Johnny feels a familiar grumbling.

“I nearly forgot! It's 'bout time I had lunch!" He chirps. “I ain't eaten since this mornin'."

Reaching behind him, he fiddles with the straps of his ALICE butt pack, only to retrieve a brown paper bag and one of his bottles of water. The creature cocks its head as he opens the paper back. Johnny retrieves a sandwich and carefully unwraps the plastic. He lifts the sandwich to take a bit, only to stop when he looks toward the creature.

“Had I known ya' was gonna be here, I prolly would'a packed some more... Are ya' hungry?"

The creature cocks its head in the other direction.

“I know this is prolly stupid of me, but I don't mind sharin'."

The creature's brow rises, its eyes widening as if surprised. Johnny finds this perplexing, but his curiosity trumps his fear. He looks toward the sandwich and takes a bite.

“Mmmm! See? It's good." He says to the beast. “Ya' want some?"

To his shock, the creature nods its head, the water rippling around its partially submerged jaw.

“Well, I'll let you have the rest! Just let me, uhm... One more!" He takes another bite. “Okay! That'll do me!"

Sticking his arm through the railing and holding out the sandwich, the creature begins to rise. Johnny sits with his eyes as wide as old, silver dollars. The creature slowly emerges from the water, and as it does, Johnny gets a good look at what was running from him. Its head is very much like the ancient reptiles that still stalk the swamps, and yet it has the distinct features of a human. A neck leads to a pair of slender shoulders and a human-like torso. The creature stops, seemingly hesitant to approach him. Is it still worried? Is it debating whether or not he's trying to trick it? Though he realizes this, Johnny is overcome with curiosity and a child-like glee.

“Yer one a' them AdvAnimals, ain't'cha?! Wow! I never thought I'd ever see one a' you!" He smiles from cheek to cheek. “This is pretty cool!"

The creature furls its brow, visibly perplexed by the young man's behavior.

“Wow, are ya' pink! Is that how they made ya'?!"

The creature glances down, then lifts a hand from the water. With flesh as black as charcoal covering its hand like a glove, and long, snow-white claws crowing all five fingers, it appears to examine itself. Once again focusing its attention onto Johnny, the creature responds by shrugging its shoulders.

“Oh... Well, it's a good look! Pink and white are pretty! Uhm, and black, too!"

The creature's mouth does not appear to have any lips, its teeth protruding from a long and pointed snout that's reminiscent of a crocodile's, and yet the very corners of its mouth curl up. Is it smiling?!

“Do ya' want the sandwich? It's ham n' cheese. If ya' don't want it, I could prolly eat it all in one bite." He says, bobbing the sandwich up and down as he holds it out to the creature.

After a brief moment of hesitation, the creature continues to rise from the water, climbing out of the pit that leads to the drainage tunnel. The water drips from its glistening form as it steps slowly across the concrete floor, approaching the human with visible apprehension.

“Damn, are ya' tall... And very female!" He exclaims, his eyes scanning the creature's unclothed form.

His vision cascades over her large breasts, which jiggle subtly, just like a human's. Moving down, he takes in the curvature of her waist and her toned belly, only stopping to stare at a very human-like womanhood. He shakes his head and averts his eyes, something that she immediately notices. She looks down at herself, the wet, snow-white flesh of her front glistening in the soft light from his flashlight. She turns to him and cocks her head, as though she wonders why he's suddenly turned away. She continues to approach, reaching out a clawed hand.

“S-so, uhm... You must be one a' them AdvAnimals. I saw yer kind on TV... Did they let'cha' out or did ya' escape? As scared as ya' were upstairs, ya' must'a escaped." He speaks with a nervous tone.

Within moments, the shy looking creature stands beside the steps, her fingers only centimeters away from the partially eaten sandwich. Again, she hesitates.

“It's okay. I'm not gonna do anythin'." He assures her.

Looking him in the eyes, she sees his soft features, his gentle smile, and hears the warmth in his voice.

“It's okay."

Overcoming her own fears, she swiftly grabs hold of the sandwich, pulls her hand away and sniffs the sandwich. As Johnny watches with amusement, she promptly eats the entire sandwich in one bite.

“I was only kiddin' when I said I could'a done that. Way to go, girl." He chuckles.

She bows her head and turns her eyes up to him, her brow softening. Has he made her feel self-conscious?!

“I'm sorry. I jus' never saw anyone so hungry before."

The AdvAnimal girl lifts her head, and again, her lips curl at the corners. Her sharp, cone-shaped teeth glint in the light as she steps around the railing, heading for the base of the steps. It isn't long before she stands before him, and Johnny can feel the nervousness returning. He tries to keep it at bay, lest she can sense it and turn hostile or run away. It's a challenge, however, as he's never been this close to a totally unknown creature before! With the light from outside just barely trickling in from the staircase leading to the ground floor, he can see her even more clearly than he could with his pen light. He marvels at her sheer size, her intriguing form and her vibrant colors.

“Ya' know, I ain't ever seen anyone like ya' before!" He remarks.

Furling her brow, the AdvAnimal girl looks down at herself, then returns her attention toward Johnny. She takes a clawed hand and grabs one of her large breasts, only to jiggle it for him, making him blush.

“Okay, poor choice a' words. I've seen women, before! I just meant yer kind... Man, that sounds bad." He closes his eyes and sighs. “What kind a' thing is that to say? 'Yer kind.' That's somethin' my grandaddy would've said to a... Never mind... I'm just not used to someone like yerself."

Cocking her head again, the AdvAnimal girl seems thoroughly intrigued. She squats down slowly before taking a seat on the ground, at the base of the stairs. She looks up at the human, watching him very carefully.

“I jus' realized, I never properly introduced myself. I'm Johnathan Crockam. Pretty much everybody jus' calls me 'Johnny' though... I don't suppose you can talk, can ya'?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, she shakes her head.

“But'cha' understand me, right?"

She promptly nods her head.

“Well, that makes it easy... Er. Easier!" He chuckles.

Reaching around to his large belt pouch, he retrieves the rest of his snacks and bottles of water.

“So..." He cracks open a bottle. “Do ya' have a name?"

She shakes her head.

“What?! What about some marker? A tattoo or some kind a' ID?"

Lifting her right wrist, she taps a claw against her pink flesh.

“A band? Some kind a' bracelet?"

She nods her head. He looks closely at her wrist. There's no bracelet to be found.

“Aww! Everyone needs a name! Hmm... Tell you what! I can give ya' a name, if ya' want!" He chirps.

Once again, her lips curl at the corners of her mouth and she slowly nods her head.

“Well... Yer colorful and pretty, like a flower." He begins, scratching his chin.

She bows her head and seems to shy away.

“How about a flowery name?! Lily?"

She furls her brow and shakes her head.

“Maybe Dahlia? ... Petunia? ... Rose?"

With each name, the AdvAnimal girl seems less and less pleased.

“Okay, okay! Hmm... I could give ya' another kind a' name!"

Johnny throws out name after name, suggesting all of the names of women he's ever known or heard of. Still, the creature is dissatisfied.

“Ain't we picky! Sheesh... Wait... How 'bout Sheila?!"

The AdvAnimal girl lifts her head, her eyes sparkling at the sound. She vigorously nods when he confirms her choice.

“Well, alright then! Sheila it shall be!" He chuckles and takes a swig of water.

For the next few minutes, Johnny and Sheila sit in the basement, on the opposite ends of the stairs. Sheila listens to Johnny as he rambles on, sharing little details about himself, as well as his snacks. He pauses and watches her as she drinks from a bottle of water, pouring the liquid into her mouth as if she'd done it thousands of times before. She's so human-like, even with her clearly animal traits. Even her bizarre coloration and monstrous size don't take away from her aura of femininity and shyness. With the storm raging on, the water begins to rise, and soon the basement starts to flood.

“Uh-oh. Maybe we ought'a get up top?"

Sheila rises to her large, digitigrade feet, her claws subtly clicking on the steps as she climbs. She grips to the railing with a hand to steady herself, further cementing her sophistication in Johnny's mind. They head upstairs, and Johnny feels her hand pressing against his back.

“Okay, okay! I'm goin'! No need to push."

Upon reaching the ground floor, a powerful gust blows a tree branch against the side of the building. It smashes out the glass, startling the pair. Sheila grabs onto Johnny's arm, and the seven-foot-tall AdvAnimal girl pulls him along with startling strength as she brings him back to the very room where they'd first frightened each other. She turns and heads into the large broom closet, so Johnny turns on his pen light. A massive pile of what appeared to be dirty rags is, in fact, Sheila's bedding, and a bucket near the center of the room now reveals itself to be some sort of makeshift fire pit.

Johnny cannot help but feel bad. She's clearly intelligent and very much a sentient creature - she's nothing like what his friends said when watching Harriet on TV - and yet she lives like an animal. She struggles to spark a flint and steel she'd made from scrap found in the old factory, trying to light some ancient papers stuffed inside of the bucket.

“Here. Let me."

Using the spine of his Buck knife and his Ferrocerium rod, he showers the papers with sparks and lights the papers in one try, thoroughly impressing Sheila. She looks to him and nods her head, as if to thank him.

“Yer welcome... Here... Keep these."

Her eyes grow wide as the friendly human presents his knife and Ferro rod as a gift. Though she hesitates, Sheila reaches out to take them, leaving her larger hand covering his for a moment. Her skin is so warm, and surprisingly soft. He smiles and nods his head, silently urging her to take the presents. Sitting around the fire, Sheila seems to relax, lounging on her side and looking toward the human who continues to ramble.

“Ya' know, I always wondered 'bout creatures like ya'. I watched all them sci-fi shows 'bout aliens and mutants, but seein' ya' in the flesh like this is somethin' else! They showed another AdvAnimal on TV."

Sheila perks up, pushing herself up as she sits on the floor.

“A cute lil' thing. She looked like a bunny or somethin'. My friends and me was watchin', and they was sayin' all sorts a' awful stuff. I didn't wanna say it and put myself out, but I thought they were all full a' shit. Now that I'm seein' ya' and getting' to know ya', I can say that yer real smart. Yer definitely smarter than they are, and prolly smarter than me!" He chirps.

Sheila cocks her head, her lips curling at the corners. This time, however, she lets out a strange, low growl, almost like a cat's purr.

“I jus' knew that if they let that lil' one grow up, she'll be somethin' special. Jus' like ya', Sheila! Yer somethin' special, too!"

Johnny pauses, his eyes darting around the hovel that is Sheila's home.

“This ain't no way to live..."

Sheila cocks her head and furls her brow.

“Tell you what! I ain't got work tomorrow, so I can come back and bring ya' stuff! It's a hike, but I don't mind!"

Sheila seems hesitant, looking around the room before returning her attention to him and shaking her head. This doesn't slip past Johnny, who's always been an intuitive fellow.

“I wouldn't ever tell on ya'. I promise, Sheila. I'm a man of my word. A lot a' people are real upset 'bout what those guys at Unifact did, but ya' seem nice, and bad stuff shouldn't happen to nice people. I jus' wanna help ya'. Yer my friend."

After a moment of pondering, Sheila slowly and rather reluctantly nods her head.

“Are ya' gonna be here when I get back?" Johnny asks, confirming her response.

She nods again.

Johnny smiles and as if on cue, the storm finally subsides. Johnny looks at his cheap wristwatch, only to see that several hours have gone by!

“Boy, time sure flies when yer havin' fun, huh?!"

Sheila seems amused by his chipper attitude, and nods her head in response. After staying a bit longer, walking throughout the factory to gather firewood for her, Johnny leaves the factory. For the first time in a long time, he's sad to return home. He looks back several times, seeing Sheila's form standing behind the dirty windows of the old factory, watching him walk away. Once he leaves the town, Johnny is quick to make his way back, alternating between a swift sprint and a steady jog as he races through the swampy forest. The rain did him no favors, and at times he has to wade through waist-deep water that stinks of sulfur.

“At least ain't no one gonna find her, if they gotta trek through this muck." He thinks aloud.

Finally returning to a familiar field, he takes a few breaths then dashes for home. He clears the half-mile patch of grass in record time, soon reaching the trailer park on the edge of town, where he lives alone, in an old single-wide. No sooner than he steps inside the house, Johnny kicks off his soggy boots and strips out of his dirty clothes. He moves throughout the trailer, stumbling as he tries to walk and pull up clean pants at the same time, gathering up anything and everything he can think of that Sheila might need. Sitting in the middle of his living room floor and preparing a care package for her, he pauses. The guilt returns.

“Man... Ain't nothin' I can bring for her gonna be as good as livin' in a real place... But I can't risk people findin' her. They might do somethin' bad."

Johnny rolls up an old, thin mattress, gathers a wool army blanket, and stuffs his internally framed hiking backpack full of food stuffs and tools. Knowing that someone might see him, he races off to bed, intent on leaving before dawn. Johnny, however, is so excited that he is thoroughly unable to sleep. He can hardly hold a thought in his head. Over and over again, he looks at the glowing red numbers of his alarm clock. As much as he hiked, and for all of the excitement, he can't even get one good hour of sleep before it's time to leave. Luckily, he'd spent that time on another project.

Pulling on all of his gear, Johnny takes a moment to holster a pistol. He wears his granddaddy's old Colt .45, though it's not Sheila that he fears. Leaving several hours before sunrise, he slips away while everyone else is still asleep. Using a flashlight and moving steadily, he retraces his steps. The water is icy cold so early in the morning, and the branches are as stiff is iron, grabbing onto his clothes and pack and yanking. It's a slow, arduous march to return to his new friend, but as the sun rises into the sky, he knows that it will be a beautiful day.

After many hours of marching and wading through muck, Johnny returns to the old village. For the first time that he can remember, there's something peaceful about the ghost town. Knowing that it now has a very special inhabitant has altered his perception. The air is different, and even the wind feels warm and comforting. As he approaches the factory, he can see movement near the windows. A familiar, pink and while form stands behind the glass. He raises a hand and calls out, waving to the familiar figure, which promptly disappears inside.

By the time he reaches the steps, Sheila emerges from the factory, standing atop the steps with the sun shining upon her exquisite form. Seeing her womanly splendor, he flushes and turns his head away, clearing his throat as he climbs the steps.

“Hi, Sheila. I told ya' I'd be back with st-"

Sheila doesn't allow him time to finish. She swiftly steps closer and embraces him, his sentence ending as his face is pressed against her upper chest. She radiates warmth, both physically and emotionally. Sheila makes the same growling sound; the deep, throaty noise is clearly a sign of her joy. Releasing the human, Sheila looks down, her lips curling at the corners in a manner now so familiar to him.

“I got ya' some stuff. Come on." He motions to her.

Stepping inside, Johnny pauses at the sight of a deer carcass. It's been partially eaten, leaving only the lower half and a pool of blood. Sheila rests a clawed hand on his shoulder and cocks her head, as if wondering what's bothering him.

“Wasn't expectin' to see yer leftovers." He quips.

With her brow raising and eyes growing wide, she realizes what's wrong. She grabs the carcass by the few legs it has left and heaves it into a nearby room as if it was made of paper mache, hiding it from his view. She turns to Johnny and nods, then motions with a hand toward the staircase. Returning to Sheila's room, Johnny sets down all of his heavy gear. He sighs and stretches out his back and arms.

“Man, that stuff is heavy! If I was a bigger guy, I'd a' prolly brung m-"

He stops and looks over, startled by Sheila who stands behind him and rests her clawed hands upon his shoulders. To his surprise, she begins to gently massage him. He cannot help but softly groan. She's quite good at this!

“Thanks." He says in a soft, nervous voice.

Sheila rests her chin atop his head, making him chuckle. She slips her arms around him, pulling at him and pressing her bust into his upper back. He flushes, clears his throat and then directs her attention toward his gear. Sheila releases him, and Johnny begins to unpack everything he'd brought. He starts by removing the small tarp that wraps around the old, foam mattress he'd rolled up. The ends, tied tightly, like a big, blue piece of candy, kept the water from tainting the mattress.

“It might be old, but it's clean."

He shoves Sheila's bedding aside with a foot, only to replace it with the mattress. Retrieving the wool blanket and a pillowcase stuffed with several pillows, he hastily makes her bed.

“Not sure how comfortable that's gonna be, but it'll beat that floor, for sure!" He chirps.

Kneeling beside his pack, Johnny grabs onto another bundle, only to pause and flash a little smile.

“I, uhm... I decided to make ya' somethin'. Not sure what they did at them labs ya' came from, but I don't normally see women prancin' 'bout without clothes on." He turns to her and holds out the bundle. “I made these for ya'. I hope they fit. I ain't a seamstress, but I did my best."

A thoroughly surprised Sheila collects the bundle and opens it. She finds herself looking upon two articles, a long, wide sheet of some kind and an oddly shaped piece of fabric with two holes on either side. Both are vibrantly colored.

“Ya' tie that one 'round yer waist, like a skirt, and slip that little one... Like this."

She looks to him as he pantomimes putting on a backpack. Sheila imitates his motions, slipping her arms through the holes. She looks down at her tank top, which laces up at the front. Johnny smiles and nods. To his surprise, Sheila uses the paracord already slipped through the loops to tie it closed. She makes a bow-knot at the top. Standing tall, she wraps the skirt around her body, tying the ends at the top and leaving a slit along one leg, like a sarong. Looking down at her form, she shifts her body, feeling the clothing and examining it carefully.

“It was a sheet... I cut it to fit. I hope ya' like it."

Turning to Johnny, Sheila steps closer and holds out a hand. Taking her hand in his, she pulls him to his feet before he can do it himself. He stumbles forward and falls into her, though she catches him. Looking down at the sweet and gentle human, Sheila makes her purring growl. Looking up at the AdvAnimal, Johnny cannot help but smile.

“Is that a yes?"

Sheila closes her eyes and leans closer, gently brushing his face with her snout. She's careful not to poke him with her teeth, which line the outside of her jaws.

“Seems like it!" He softly chuckles.

For the rest of that day, Johnny spends his time with Sheila, rambling on as they walk throughout both the factory and the abandoned town. Using some tools that he'd brought, Johnny does his best to improve Sheila's home, and her incredible strength proves very useful. Before either of them realizes it, it's nearly dark. Johnny, however, has to work the next day. Sheila makes a strange noise, a high-pitched whimper as he tells her that he needs to leave.

“I'll be back as often as I can. Maybe even every day. I promise, and I'm a man of my word." He assures her.

Sheila learns how true this is, as for the rest of August and all of September, Johnny returns to the ghost town. Six days a week, sometimes even seven. The human and the AdvAnimal become exceedingly close, and in early October, Johnny sits beside Sheila's fire pit, which he'd rebuilt out of old bricks. She lay on her side, an arm bent at the elbow and her hand supporting her head. Her other hand drapes over Johnny's shoulder, his back pressed against her toned belly.

“Ya' know, I was thinkin'..." He says with a little sigh. “Winters can be awful cold. I don't know if ya' was out durin' the last one, but I don't want ya' out when things freeze over."

He turns, looking over his shoulder at Sheila. She coils her fingers, her claws gently scratching his chest as she pulls at him.

“I was thinkin' 'bout this for a minute, and I remembered somethin' I'd forgot. Remember when I told ya' 'bout what happened when my parents died?"

Sheila nods her head. She pushes herself up and begins to nuzzle his face.

“Now, now! I ain't lookin' for sympathy this time!" He chuckles, petting her snout very softly. “I got all that land my daddy had, and he got the land my granddaddy had. There's a cabin there. It's kind a' far, but it's real hidden away. Maybe even more hidden than this place, if ya' can believe that! My granddaddy used it for huntin'. I ain't been there in years, but it's fenced off and I own it. Maybe we could fix it up and move ya' in there?"

Sheila's eyes light up.

“It's got a fireplace, one a' them old stoves, and even an old ice box! It's tall enough for ya' to walk around without bumpin' yer head on the beams. I think ya' can stay hidden and warm throughout winter, and if we move ya' in, I'll move in with ya', to keep ya' s-AFE!" He exclaims as she abruptly pulls him back.

She throws her arms around him and holds him tightly, giving him periodic squeezes and nuzzling him continuously. He shifts and turns, slipping an arm around her, being cautious about running his forearm over the rough hide of her back. It's only after a moment of holding onto Sheila that Johnny notices her tail. As long as her body is tall, it wraps around him, curling around her body and then his. He can feel it pressing gently against his back. It isn't the first time that she's done this, but she's never done it while he was holding her. Using her snout to brush his face, he pulls back and looks up. Sheila stares into his eyes with her shimmering, pink orbs.

“Excited 'bout livin' with me, huh?" He asks, trying to mask his nervousness.

Sheila softly growls and nods. She moves a clawed hand from his back, sliding it along his arm before grabbing onto his wrist. Pulling gently, she directs his hand and Johnny watches, looking down with confusion. He suddenly realizes what she's doing, and what she wants. She places his hand over one of her breasts, gently using his hand to knead her large, feminine mound. His face turns beet red and he finds himself trembling. He never, in his wildest dreams, imagined anything like this would happen when he befriended Sheila. Can AdvAnimals even mate with humans? Would that be wrong? At that moment, Johnny doesn't even know how he feels about the concept.

His mind is overloading. Sheila certainly isn't an animal, but is she human enough for that? She has all of the features of a human woman, and in those first two days he saw enough of her body to know that it's not only possible but highly likely that they could, and enjoy it. As she nuzzles his face and tries to make him fondle her through the top he'd made for her, Johnny, for the first time since he'd seen her on that first day in August, becomes afraid. What if he refuses? Will she be angry? Will she be sad? Will she push him away or leave out of spite? He has no idea, and he doesn't want to find out. Sheila opens her jaw and gently licks the nape of his neck. This is going too far.

“Wait."

Sheila pulls back, her brow softening and head bowing. Her eyes look so sad. Is she just as afraid as he is? Johnny thinks fast.

“I like ya', Sheila, but this is new to me. Yer the first AdvAnimal I've ever known."

Sheila pulls away, her arms and tail releasing him from her grasp as she hides her face from what he can only assume is embarrassment.

“No, no! Don't be upset!" He scoots closer. “I'm not sayin' 'no', jus'... Take it slow? Please?"

She slowly lowers her hand, turning her head and looking back at him. Johnny gazes so innocently at her, his warm smile ever present. After taking a moment to think, Sheila slowly and subtly nods her head, agreeing to his request. As he thanks her and leans in to kiss her snout, she wraps her arms around him. He must admit, even with human lovers, he's never felt quite so cherished, so cared for as he does when he's with this creature. It's why he comes back day after day after day, hiking a dozen miles each way. After spending their time cuddling, Johnny looks at the time, his watch beeping. It's his emergency alarm; if he doesn't leave now, he won't be home before nightfall.

“Damn... I should go." He says as he rises to his feet.

Sheila whimpers.

“I'll be back. I'll always be back, and we're gonna be roomies soon." He says with a smile.

Reaching out and stroking her cheek, Sheila places her hand over his. This time, however, she doesn't let go.

“I gotta go, Sheila. If I don't, I'll be walkin' in the dark."

She whimpers and bows her head, and Johnny can see something startling. A tear trickles down her cheek! She slowly and reluctantly releases his hand, only to stare pensively at the floor beneath his feet. Feeling a pain in his chest, Johnny kneels down. He places a hand on Sheila's chin and lifts her head, looking into her eyes.

“Ya' really want me to stay, huh?"

Sheila nods and rests her hand over his.

“Alright. But only 'cause ya' cried! I don't like seein' girls cry."

Visibly overjoyed, Sheila reaches out and pulls Johnny into a tight hug. Slumping over, she pulls him down with her and the pair find themselves lying atop her mattress. She only gives him enough room to turn around, the little spoon to her big spoon. Her soft, purring growls and pleased sighs warm his heart, and Johnny finds it very easy to fall asleep. Awakening the next morning, Johnny bolts up. A window breaks downstairs. He turns to Sheila, who opens her eyes and lifts her head.

“I think someone's here." He whispers to her.

Sheila looks nervous, even afraid as she sits up on her bed.

“I'll check it out." He says, drawing his old 1911 from his holster.

Making his way toward the row of windows, Johnny tries to peek out, only for a rock to come careening through the square block of glass right beside his head. He ducks down and shields his head.

“Ha! Got it!" A stranger's voice chirps.

Taking the chance, Johnny peeks over the edge, looking through the broken-out window. He sees the top of someone's head as they head for the front door. He turns toward Sheila's room, seeing her emerging with a curious look in her eyes. He brings a finger to his lips and creeps closer to her.

“Someone's inside. We need to hide ya'." He whispers.

Sheila nods and follows his lead. They step into the hall only to hear the stranger struggling with the front door. Johnny and Sheila locked it, as they always do when they stay late. Johnny leaves her with the lock and trusts her to open it whenever he returns, knowing that should she need to, she can always escape through the drainage tunnel. It seems, however, that in her comfort, she didn't notice the stranger either, and just as they make it to the top of the steps, the stranger breaks in.

“Wow! That lock was strong for being a thousand years old!" The stranger exclaims. “I wonder if there's anything cool in here?"

Wincing from the prospect of being caught, Johnny turns to Sheila and motions to head in the opposite direction. She takes a step but her tail drags.

“The hell was that?!" The stranger speaks to himself. “Uh... Hello?!"

Sheila realizes her mistake and raises her tail, walking as softly as a seven-foot-tall and over two-hundred-pound creature possibly can. As they creep through the hall, Johnny looks back at the stairwell. A shadow a person climbs the steps.

“Hide! Hide! Hide!" He whispers to her.

Johnny makes a considerable racket as he races back into the room, giving Sheila some cover as he draws the stranger's attention. Picking up on this, she darts into another room, opposite Johnny.

“H-hey! Who's there?!" The stranger calls out.

“The hell do ya' want?!" Johnny growls. “I was sleepin'!"

“Who is that?!" The stranger asks.

“Yer momma! Who do ya' think?!"

Johnny rustles his hair and dishevels his clothes, ripping off his belt and removing everything that looks even vaguely new. He takes his 1911 pistol from the holster and slips it into the waistband of his pants, near the small of his back, and covering it with his shirt. Stumbling out, as if he was a drunk, Johnny peers into the hallway and finds himself looking at a true stranger. It isn't one of his friends or anyone he knows from town, even in passing.

“I didn't know this place was occupied. Sorry." The stranger holds up a hand.

“Ugh! Well, now that ya' do, I suppose you'll be leavin'!"

“Nah! I can hang out for a bit!" The stranger steps closer.

“Ya' don't sound like yer from 'round here..." Johnny narrows his eyes.

“You're right. I'm on a hiking trip. I'm from Virginia. I take it you're a local?"

“All my life."

“Lovely..." The stranger murmurs. “So, is this your town or something? Or were you just camping out amongst the ghosts?"

Johnny grumbles. To his chagrin, he's forced to entertain the stranger with lies about being homeless. At every opportunity, he tries to talk the stranger into leaving, but the older man seems intent on exploring the place. He claims to enjoy looking through old buildings, and had actually planned to visit this old town, just to see what it looked like after more than sixty years without human inhabitants. Johnny is able to keep the stranger close, until the stranger suddenly walks away.

“Hey! Where ya' off to? I told ya' there ain't nothin' in here!" Johnny growls in his most convincing homeless voice.

“I just gotta take a piss!"

Johnny enters the hallway in time to see the stranger stepping into the very room that Sheila had chosen to hide in. He closes his eyes and prepares himself.

“I'll just be a-HOLY SHIT!"

Racing inside, Johnny stands in the doorway as the man looks back. Poking his head inside, Johnny sees Sheila sitting in the corner. The stranger had walked right past her, just as Johnny had done, however, she either had no time to slip away or was too afraid to do so.

“Oh, God! It's one of those monsters!" The stranger shouts.

“Hey! She ain't a monster!" Johnny shouts back.

“They hell it isn't! Look at it!"

Sheila bows her head and looks away, visibly upset by the stranger's words. Johnny steps into the room and kneels beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder and comforting her.

“Ya' gonna hurt her feelings sayin' stuff like that." Johnny speaks in a soft voice.

She turns her head and looks to him, her eyes showing her warmth and her lips curling at the corners.

“You... You knew it was in here, didn't you?! That's why you wanted me out of here so bad!"

“Now that ya' know, why don't'cha just go?" Johnny asks, looking to the stranger.

“Uh-uh! We gotta tell people about it!"

“No, we don't." Johnny rises to his feet.

“Yeah, we do! People are looking for these... Things! Look at it! You're just going to leave it down here?!" The stranger yells.

“Stop calling her an 'it'. She ain't an 'it' or a 'thing'. Her name is Sheila!"

“You gave it a name?!" The stranger gasps.

“The hell did I just say?!" Johnny snaps.

“Fuck you, then. I'll call the cops, and they can come and put it down!" The stranger barks back.

“Nuh-uh! Ya' ain't callin' nobody."

Reaching behind his back, Johnny suddenly draws his pistol. The stranger's eyes nearly pop out of his head as he stares down the business end of the forty-five-caliber pistol.

“Are you serious?!"

“Do I look like I'm playin'?!"

Johnny flips off the safety, to prove how serious he is.

“What the hell is wrong with you, man?! What's your deal?!"

“She's my friend. I care about her, and I ain't lettin' ya' hurt her. All ya' gotta do is walk away, and promise not to talk. That's all ya' gotta do..."

The stranger takes a moment to think, scratching his head and looking down at the floor. He mumbles to himself, though Johnny cannot understand him. Hearing a noise, Johnny looks back to see Sheila rising to her feet. As soon as he takes his eyes off of the stranger, the nameless hiker from Virginia suddenly bolts. Before Johnny knows what's happening, the stranger dashes past him, into the hall and toward the stairwell. Johnny gives chase, while Sheila stands as still as a statue, seemingly petrified.

“Get back here, God damn it!" Johnny shouts as he chases the stranger down the hall.

“Ahh! Leave me alone, you fucking freak! You and your monster!"

They follow the landing, Johnny perpetually a few steps behind. He reaches out for the stranger, only to grab onto his shirt. He loses his grip and trips.

“Sheila!" Johnny shouts, picking himself up from the floor.

Her heavy footfalls race toward the sound of his voice. Johnny's shoes slip in the dust as he races to catch up to the stranger, who's heading for the front doors.

“Get back here, ya' son of a bitch!" Johnny snarls.

“I'm gonna be there when they put that thing down!" The stranger taunts him, dashing down the steps.

“Ya' better shut yer big mouth before-"

BANG! Tripping over the threshold of the front doors, Johnny's finger slips. He fires, the round striking the stranger in the spine just as he reaches the bottom step. With a pained groan, the stranger falls into the old walkway, just beyond the stoop. Johnny stares in shock, his hand trembling as he gazes upon what he's just done.

“Oh, Jesus... I... I fu-... I fuckin' sh-... Oh, God!"

Sheila's footfalls draw nearer and she soon bursts through the doorway. She looks down at the stranger, then turns to Johnny and checks him for wounds, running her clawed hands over his body and looking for blood.

“I-I'm fine, Sheila, but... But he's..."

Johnny points with the barrel of his pistol. Hearing the groaning of the stranger, Sheila's head swiftly turns. She walks down the steps, cocking her head and looking over the man's body. Seeing his wound, she kneels beside him. Reaching out a hand, she gently, even lovingly pets his head. It's clear to everyone that she didn't want the stranger to be hurt. Turning his head, the stranger looks back with glossy eyes, blood streaming from his nose and trickling from the corner of his mouth. It pools on the dirt beside him. Sheila turns to Johnny, a solemn look in her eyes.

“W-what do we do? I mean... He said he was gonna talk. It's fifteen miles through forest to the nearest hospital. Can we even?"

Looking back at the wounded man, Sheila closes her eyes and lets out a soft sigh. Resting a hand on either side of the stranger's head, she swiftly breaks his neck, ending his life and his suffering. Johnny jumps as the stranger dies, mortally wounded by his bullet and ended by Sheila's hands. He slumps back and sits on the steps, the pistol slipping out of his hand and falling onto the concrete a few inches below. Sheila turns and rises to her feet. Johnny hides his face in his hands as he begins to cry. Racing over to him, Sheila is quick to comfort him, sitting beside him and throwing her arms around his trembling body.

“I-I've never hurt anyone like that b-before!" He whimpers and sniffles. “I just couldn't let him turn ya' in!"

She scoots closer, her side pressing against his and her long, tapering tail swinging slowly around. It curls over his side, locking him in. With her arms wrapped around the weeping human, Sheila rests her chin atop his head, embracing him so tenderly and lovingly. She begins to sway, rocking him from side to side as she softly shushes him. Her clawed hands caress his head and shoulders, his tears dripping from the tip of his nose and landing on the snow-white flesh of her chest.

“I couldn't let him turn ya' in." Johnny almost chants. “I just could. I couldn't let him. I love ya'."

Sheila turns her head down, nuzzling Johnny's face. Her arms squeeze him a little tighter, and if he didn't already know her desires, he'd guess that she's saying 'I love you, too'. After taking a moment to calm his frazzled nerves, Johnny looks over to the stranger's corpse.

“What are we going to do, Sheila? If anybody finds him, they might be able to trace that bullet."

Rising to her feet, Sheila climbs down the steps and kneels beside the stranger's body. Using her sharp, white claws to cut the stranger's clothes, she exposes the flesh of his back. She methodically carves his flesh, making a larger wound before digging out Johnny's bullet. With the flattened lead pinched between her claws, she buries the bullet in the dirt beside her and then picks up the stranger's body.

“Where ya' goin'?!" Johnny asks as he jumps to his feet.

Sheila turns to him, holds up a hand and shakes her head. She points to the steps, so Johnny sits and waits. Sheila leaves with the stranger's body cradled in her arms, disappearing down the old streets. He alternates between looking at his wristwatch, and looking at his old 1911 pistol. After checking his watch about three dozen times, growing increasingly anxious with every passing second, Sheila finally returns. The stranger's body is gone.

“I was gettin' worried!" Johnny races up to Sheila and embraces her. “What did ya' do with the stranger?"

Pulling back and looking up, he watches as she pantomimes her actions. She points to the swamp and then to her teeth before gently snapping her jaws.

“So, ya'... Fed him to the gators?"

Sheila nods.

“Oh... Well, I've been thinkin', while ya' were gone. We can't stay here anymore. While we got daylight left, I think we should pack up and head to my granddaddy's old cabin. What do ya' say?"

With her lips curling at the corners, forming her little smile, Sheila reaches out a hand. Slipping his hand into hers, the pair return to her camp. They pack up everything that Johnny had brought throughout the past few months, cleaning the campsite until Sheila's room is as vacant and lifeless as the day she first found it. As they step out into the sunlight, the breeze flowing through his hair and fluttering her skirt, the fear and anxiety begins to melt away. Johnny turns to Sheila and gives her hand a squeeze, capturing her attention.

“I won't ever let anythin' happen to ya', Sheila. I love ya' and I'll be with ya' forever. I promise... And ya' know I'm a man of my word."

Sheila's lips curl at the corners and she nods her head. Hand-in-hand, the pair begin walking, eager to reach their new home.