Putz12 Plus One

THIRTY SEVEN | AN INK TO THE PAST

Why was the room so painful to look at? The lights, blinding. Iza sat in the chair with her tentacle protesting all it could. The pain would have been unbearable, had she not been numbed up.

"There. That'll keep you." Said Kleims. "The drug should wear off soon, don't scream in pain too much." An alarm rang from the door and he looked at his watch. "You should be put in the recruitment center shortly. I've gotta take this. Take care, and welcome aboard."

"Take care." She mumbled finally. "What a sweet piece of squit you are."

A member who sat just behind her on the rounded bench approached her with curiosity. Long tentacles, she didn't remember seeing those in person ever. Everyone always looked the same, but her curiosity bothered Iza very much.

"What are you f... I mean, what are you staring at?"

"You are very beautiful."

"Thanks, but we all look the s... same." Her mouth drooled a little, and the girl wiped off the saliva for her. "So, when do you think Pokeyman will come back?"

"I'm not sure, those intruders were very foolish. He may just kill them, or send them in a sorta hell of their own. From what I know? They'll just recruit them. Besides, one of them was an inkling."

Inkling. The word was familiar, her body and mouth lagged behind her mind. Inkling... "INKLING BOY!!!!" She nearly toppled over the chair, the member catching it just in time.

"Yes, he was an inkling boy." She sat down. "You are very smart!

Whatever slowed her down just stopped. The pain was gone but she had grown very talkative. "Untie me, love."

She giggled. "Now why would I do that? Silly little captive, you have no ri-"

"Because that inkling you saw was my best friend. And there's more of that where they came from."

"You have... more than one best friend?"

"What?" She sighed. "No! We're gonna take you guys over, and if you don't let me go I'll kill you."

The member giggled. "What an imagination you have!" She moved to taunt her. Pheobe taught her from an early age every situation was escapable. Now was the test of those sentiments. "Sweetie," She put her hand on Iza's shoulder. She finally made eye contact. "You think you can use that mouth to talk your way out of anything, you--"

Pitch-black ink oozed out of her arm. Iza's teeth were deep inside the skin now, causing her to shriek and howl out in pain. She made eyes with her that said she was not letting go.

"Release your hand!" Warned the member. "Or... or they will come back and--"

"How's about I bite your arm off?" She mumbled through the mouthful.

"What?!"

Iza resorted to growling. She knew if any superior saw her like this, vulnerable to the captive, it would be game over for her. This is how things were handled in the sector, and would be here.

"Fine!" She finally caved in and used a shaky hand to set her free. Iza wanted to smile, but remained stuck on her. Once she untied her, she fervently searched the cabinets above.

"Stay here." She ordered. "Or I will kill you."

She gulped, watching Iza search the room for anything she could use to latch on a single loose tentacle to her head. "Tell me," She said upon the search. "How closely does your Poke boy pay attention to detail?"

"Hmm, I'm not quite sure," She admitted. "He likes numbers."

Finally finding the super glue, Iza squeezed it over the severed limb, attaching it to the girl's head. "Useless, you're useless, you know that?"

"I, so... what do I do to not be... that?"

"You help me out, you come to the surface." The air was heavy. At any moment she expected footsteps, but there were none. She continued. "I don't know if your culty beliefs have any truth up there, but it's better than living in a zombie existence in a dark place with a fake sky. Don't you think?"

There were the aforementioned footsteps she'd been worrying about. The member tried to run, but Iza stared at her intently, grabbing her, putting her on the chair and loosely tying it up.

"If he questions the loose ends, you tell him you used your teeth to get out."

"Stop!" She was a bit too loud for Iza's liking, and was met with a scowl. "Stop! What if he kills me!"

"Listen here," She whispered, deeply close to her face. "He's not, because you're a good soul, and you wouldn't just sit there and watch while he tied me up and cut my fucking LIMBS off if you thought he was going to kill me. So now you're Iza, and he's not gonna kill Iza. Do you understand?"

She nodded, tears streaming down her face. Iza wanted to say more, that when she made a promise she kept it, she was no liar, she...

The doors opened. The other limb had been snatched by Iza, leaving the decoy for inspection. Pokeness came close, noticing "Iza's" skin bleed ink.

"Didn't I already dehydrate you to prevent you from doing that stupid ink escape you think you're so clever for doing?" He asked. The decoy was too frightened to speak a word. Even her initiation wasn't this painful, and if the tentacle somehow fell, she would be caught and perhaps killed. He grabbed a long-needled syringe and walked toward her. She squealed in fear. "Be a good girl for Father Pokeness, understand?"

Iza better have meant every word she said. Dammit.

The mirror-like walls of the outside showed her reflection. I look good in short hair, she thought. The recruitment centre was full of weird, sciencey-looking rooms and schools for the little Orderlings. It would have been cute if they weren't repeating phrases like "Obey the Order at all costs. Down with inklings," And the likeness of such.

She understood their righteous indignation. They had been locked for a while. Rumors had it inklings did not accept octolings. Inferior species, Putz's words echoed in her skull until she was sick. But that didn't mean there couldn't be change.

She remembered being a little girl, stuck in the tattered, worn-down concrete hideout her parents had made. Nothing but books were accessible in the small corner of her room. She had read about the human history and was shocked at how close it was to them. That no sentient being was above foolish hatred. One wrong, loud person is all it took to turn sweetness into brimstone.

One book was an autobiography of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a man who fought racism of the humans. She always thought it was silly that humans would fight over color, yet even sillier that inkling and octoling cultures presumably pushed aside the past, causing them to repeat the mistakes of their inferior predecessors.

"Oh, hello." Said a voice from behind. She turned to see a taller octoling girl, black tentacles into a bowl-cut. It was so strange to see, but she was taller and had a blue, glowing medallion. 

"You speak." Her voice was beautiful, shocking to the tall one. "I, I need your help."

"You sound like you do, come with me."

She followed her into a room and closed the door. It was very cramped and she had her sit on a chair. Iza told her everything but her name, desperate for help with promises of the surface, warm, different food, no more of this 'Order' which was more chaotic than above. When one was stripped of their identity and expression, it was anything but orderly.

The taller one nodded, writing down notes. Soon feeling slowly registered and her entire body jolted with pain. She grimaced, digging her claws into the chair's arms. Her hissing caught this member's attention, and she rushed to inject her with more medicine. The pain faded, and as Iza looked forward, she saw a flash of light, and then there was no more Iza.

"Obey The Order." She said.