Claws

Swear

LUKA

     When I finally saw my bird again, he was walking oddly through out front door at the asscrack of dawn. I figured his strange gait was because of Joan's punishment, but when I went to ask, he held a hand up and said "You don't want to know."
     Apollo was on the tail end of a cold shower when my cell phone rang.
     "Hey, Luka, how are you doing today?" George drawled out from the other line.
     "Hey, Dad!" I exclaimed happily from my seat at the kitchen table, "I'm great, how are you?"
     "I'm doing fantastic, we got some good news today." He announced proudly.
     I knew what was coming. "Oh, hold on Dad," I interrupted as my bird entered the room in pajama pants and still-wet hair, "Apollo just came in."
     Then to my charge, "Hey hun, come here!"
     Apollo made his way lackadaisically to me and took a seat across from where I sat. His gait was still a little off, and he grimaced when he sat.
     "Okay," I address my father, "Go ahead, Dad."
     "Great news, boys," George buzzed with excitement, "Blizzard is pregnant!"
     Apollo grinned ear to ear at the announcement. I followed suit with my own smile, ruffling my bird's hair.
     "That's awesome to hear." I hummed blithely, "They're a good pairing. I can't wait to see what they produce."
     "Exactly." My dad responded, before adding "Hey Luka, come up to the mansion. I have something I'd like to discuss with you and Joan."
"Anything bad?" I asked hesitantly.
"No, just private." He clarified, and I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
"Alright," I agreed, "Be there in twenty."
"Okay, see ya." George drawled. With a click of a button, he hung up, and we were left with a dial tone.
As soon as my phone hit the kitchen table, I was embracing my bird.
"Congratulations!" I cried out, "You're a dad!"
"Thanks." Apollo appeared at a loss for words.
"Are you excited?" I asked.
"Yeah," The bird replied, "I'm happy for Blizzard, and I think we could co-parent well."
My heart dropped.
"Apollo," I began cautiously, "Do you know what a lionheart farm is?"
The red-and-black winged bird laughed, more in disbelief than humor. "You're funny, Luka." He responded, "No, I think we've got this."
My next words were gentle and careful. "It's not a choice, hun."
I watched as my bird's heart broke again.
"That's not okay." He attempted to steel his voice, but sadness crept through anyways. "Blizzard and I could be great parents."
"It's not about your competency as a parent, hun," I told him, "It's about your careers, money, and resources."
"It takes a pack." Apollo retorted.
"They'll have one, when they're old enough." I hummed, "But from when they're born to until they go through puberty, they're going to live on a farm."
"No." My bird tested, and I remained firm. At the unwavering look in my eyes, he repeated, "No, that's not happening."
"I'm sorry, Apollo." The sigh left my lips in a single breath. "Farms aren't bad places, you know. I interned at one."
"Did you live on one?" My bird began to growl, and I corrected him.
"Aht aht! No sir, you do not get to argue. This is a human decision, not a lionheart decision." I corrected him.
"I am making the lionheart decision not to rip your throat out." He snarled, spitting in Avic, "So maybe you should have a little grace."
He got closer, fangs bared and claws protracted, in an attempt to intimidate me. It worked.
"Apollo, I am warning you." I growled back, trying not to show any fear.
"Warning what, exactly?" He retorted, "You're shaking like a leaf, and you smell like running food."
Apollo growled savagely. Without so much as a word, I shocked him. My bird yelped and sputtered, falling out of his chair and to the ground.
"Do NOT make me paddle you, Apollo!" I threatened, and the bird on the floor snarled.
"Paddle it is." I grumbled and pressed the shock button once more. This time, I held it down until I could retrieve the paddle Chiaki had given me from under my bed and return. It was cherry red and decorated with diamond-shaped holes along the striking surface.
When I was face-to-face with my still-screeching lionheart again, I released the button, wasting no time in picking up his left foot and paddling it as hard as I could. Wincing at his screams of agony, I reminded myself not to falter, and struck him over and over again. Once I counted to twenty, I let his foot fall to the ground.
"Apologize." I commanded, just as Chiaki taught me to.
Apollo hissed. A disappointed sigh left me.
I'm going to be late.
"Count them out loud." I instructed my bird.
This time, I picked up his kicking right foot, holding fast the deadly weapon by his ankle. I hit him once, then twice, but didn't hear him utter a syllable.
"Count!" I demanded. Next time, he complied.
A hard, meaty slap. "O-One."
Whimpers more suitable to a kicked dog than a lionheart. "T-Two."
"Three!" Was cried out before the paddle even hit.
A reverberating smack. A deep breath. Then, "Four."
Agonized yelping. "F-Five...."
Silent writhing, followed by a whispered, "Six."
A let-it-all-out scream came as "SEVEN!"
Tired, horrible whining. "Eigh-Eight."
Exhausted tears rolled down my bird's face as he stuttered out, "N-N-N-Nine!"
Body-racking sobs. "Ten!"
     Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen....
     I kept going, thinking back to a conversation I had with George just a few days earlier.
     "If you don't get your bird under control, son, he may turn on you. Your aunt Macy was torn to pieces by her rebellious bird."
     My father wiped a stray tear from his face before continuing, "I don't want to lose my only son to another lionheart."
     A big sigh, and at my silence, George was speaking again. "These things are dangerous, Luka. There's a reason why they're collared, trained, beaten, and forced into subservience. They can and will kill you if given the chance. We cannot get complacent."
     "Your love-and-be-loved approach won't work on Apollo. He has killed people, Luka. He has eaten people. He has mauled them— not for food or for sport, but for fun."
     "Luka, I hate to be the barer of bad news, but these are not people. These are animals, monsters, that will not conform to the standards of man."
    "I am begging you, son, please have the heaviest hand you can. Your life depends on it."
     I kept beating Apollo. Even as he cried and screamed for mercy, I kept hitting him. Something inside of me broke. Flood waters of rage and embarrassment from his behavior rushed out, breaking down my walls of sensitivity and empathy.
     I thought back to Riya's mauling. I thought back to the man on the roof in Veridian. I thought back to every single death caused by Apollo when he was housed at the facility.
     And then, I thought about how he bared his fangs and claws at me, growing closer, a snarl on his face.
Would he eat me too?
     I didn't want to find out.
     Apollo had stopped counting. He was sobbing and clawing at the floors, no longer withstanding the torture. I had never seen him in such a state.
     The paddle kept walloping down on his already-swollen feet.
     "MASTER!" He screamed, "PLEASE STOP!"
     I pretended not to hear him as I continued.
     Watching as he sank his fangs into his wrist, my automatic hands kept striking. Blood pooled on the floor as the lionheart released his fanged grip, but he still yowled as I smacked as hard as I could against the arches of his feet.
Switching hands back and forth, I was able to continue until my bird was hoarse from screaming. It was hard to tell when to stop; I needed to guarantee that Apollo never threatened me again, all other repercussions were insignificant. My safety was more important than our relationship.
Better safe than sorry.
Losing track of time, I went until each of my hands were completely numb and my arms were too tired to swing. With a heaving chest, I finally set down the paddle on the kitchen table.
I offered a hand to help him get to his screaming feet. Instead, he opted to drag his body to the couch and hoist himself up onto it. All I could do was watch with a soul-consuming numbness.
"Don't go anywhere, you're in house arrest again." I commanded as steadily as I could, "I'll be watching you on GPS. If you leave, I'll discipline you remotely. Don't test me, Apollo."
My heart broke just a little bit when I saw him nod with his head in the fabric of the couch. I had thoroughly broken him.... for now, at least.
On my walk to the mansion, I reflected on Apollo's recent behavior. It was all because he was breeding, of course, but if I couldn't handle him with multitudes of extra testosterone coursing through his body, should I be handling him at all?
     The question perturbed me.
     Worried teeth worked on my bottom lip as I made my way up the front steps of the mansion, through the winding hallways, and up eight flights of stairs. By the time I reached the top floor, I was panting lightly.
     The fourth floor was all George's penthouse. The staircase terminated at an ornate doorway. Knocking before I opened it, I heard a "Come in!" and entered.
George and Joan sat chatting over mugs of tea around a cherry-wood coffee table at the far end of the room. The man sat on a leather armchair and the woman on a leather couch. I took a seat in an armchair opposite of my father.
"Would you like some tea?" The older man offered, and I offered back a polite, "That would be great, thank you."
George poured the cup of tea, handing the hot mug to me.
"Right," He began, "I'm here to talk finances with y'all."
Joan and I waited patiently as George continued.
"I'd like to purchase your current pairing's fledgling. 'Course you both know me well, so this shouldn't be an issue. I plan on compensating both of you handsomely."
"My offer to you, Luka," He met my eyes. "for providing the stud, is five hundred and fifty thousand dollars." His words hit me like a brick over the head, but I tried my best to not appear shocked.
"And Joan," he turned to the middle-aged woman, "I offer to cover all prenatal expenses for Blizzard, as well as pay one million dollars for the fledgling."
He just has over one and a half million dollars sitting around?!
"Luka, what do you say, son?" George sipped his tea nonchalantly.
I tried my best not to appear flustered. "Well," I stalled, "I agree, but I think Joan's opinion is more important than mine."
"Perfect!" George hummed, addressing the senior handler next, "Joan, what say you?"
Joan appeared to contemplate his offer— longer than I had, anyways.
"I'm sure you know that this will be a stunning multipurpose bird. Hell, you could make them a show bird if you so please. I could easily get over two million for this pairing." Joan was an expert haggler, it seemed. "Since we're friends, I'll cut you an offer; make it one-point-five million, and we'll have a deal."
"Goddamn it, Joan." George set down his cup of tea and ran a hand through his hair. "One-point-three." He countered.
"One-point-four." Joan said flatly.
George sighed. "Okay, one-point-four."
The two shook on it. I started to feel stupid for not haggling my offer.
     Our meeting ended after chatting about the birds for another half hour. On my way home, something felt off. I couldn't quite shake an unusual anxiety. Eager to get back home to my bird and snuggle the worries away, my pace quickened.
    Something felt intrinsically wrong as I entered the garden gate. My soul burned in a fashion that felt so familiar it made my skin crawl. I could feel all of my bones, all of my teeth, all of my joints, and it was nauseating.
     I called out for Apollo as I entered the front door. The house felt cold.
"....Apollo?" I called again. There was no answer.
A nagging feeling told me to run back outside. I ignored it.
Picking up the circular remote hanging around my neck, I pressed a button labeled "GPS" and took a look at the screen.
Apollo's tracking device showed that he was inside the house.
     At the chilling sight, I pressed a little red button on the side as well, which didn't appear to do anything at first glance except make a small red light on the remote blink.
Slowly, silently, I took a step forwards, armed with my tiny remote. I felt like I was walking into a lion's den.
I heard a floorboard squeak from behind me— and I pressed the tiny shock button so fast, it was as if my life depended on it.
Apollo screeched, swiping protracted claws at me as he went down, and took five vertical strips of flesh from between my shoulder blades. I screamed just the same and found myself on the entryway floor next to my lionheart.
Our eyes met. Crazed, hungry, and animalistic, his gaze fixated on me for only a second until we were scrambling to and away from each other.
     I'm going to die.
Apollo grabbed a handful of my left ankle, claws digging in to keep me trapped. I kicked and thrashed as hard as I possibly could, my opposite foot meeting his hand and crushing his fingers until he let go.
I'm going to die.
Rolling over, I just barely dodged clanking teeth colliding just where my throat had been. The lionheart snarled, teeth chattering, and continued his pursuit as I struggled to my feet with my damaged ankle. I struggled to get away and found myself in the kitchen with nowhere to go.
I'm going to die.
The dial on my remote was turned to one hundred. As the bird clambered to his swollen feet, I noticed he was limping as he progressed blazingly quickly towards me. I pressed the shock button, and he barely faltered. He was a yard from me when I turned tail and ran, sights set on climbing over the couch.
I'm going to die.
I didn't get very far. Apollo snagged me by the back of my neck, protracted claws digging so far into the nape of my neck that I heard and felt them scraping against my vertebrae.
I'm going to die.
By his grip on my neck, my lionheart spun me around and shoved me face-first into the kitchen wall. A rouge tongue tested the flesh of my shoulder with a curious lap.
I'm going to die, but he's going to eat me first.
"Give me one good reason," the monster growled in Avic, "Not to eat you alive."
"I don't taste very good." Was all I could think of.
Apollo let out a chuckle.
That was my only chance, it seemed, because the next thing I knew, he was taking a bite out of my shoulder. A scream of agony left me at the sensation of a mouthful of sharp fangs piercing my flesh.
     "Apollo!" I cried out, "Please, please stop!"
     My words fell on deaf ears. The lionheart went in for another bite, this time taking a chunk out of my tricep. It was so much that I couldn't scream— my mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to make a sound.
     The noise of Apollo chewing the mouthful of my flesh made we want to gag. Soon, I was gagging, and a handful of my breakfast made its way up my throat and out onto my face and the shirt on my chest.
     Sadistically, the bird took a handful of sharp talons and dragged them pointlessly down my back, leaving five rows of gouges from my right shoulder blade to my hip. The gashes spurted blood at an alarming rate. I couldn't scream, but threw up again at the pain, coating my mouth and neck in another layer of grime.
     Either I was bleeding out or passing out from the pain— whichever it was, I pined for escape from reality.
     My ears listened without my consent as Apollo slurped the strips of flesh out from under his claws and down his throat like spaghetti noodles. I felt another round of vomit coming up my gullet.
     "Apollo...." I groaned, feeling the world spin, darkening and brightening over and over again. "Please.... I just wanted to help you."
      I was flipped around like a pancake on a skillet. One clawed hand pinned my weak wrists above my ahead. Another squeezed my throat, penetrating the skin just enough for blood to lazily ooze out.
     "You collar me, beat me, treat me like a dog, and use me for your little human games. You think that's helping me?" Apollo snarled and purposely spit in my face. "I thought you were my friend!" His voice broke. "Shows what I get for trusting a human."
     All I had left to save me was my rehabilitation skills.
     "I am your friend, Apollo." I struggled to speak. "I helped you trust people again. I reintroduced you to society. Together, we won medals in agility. I helped you meet Blizzard, and now you have a baby on the way."
     I gasped for air as the world blurred around me. "Don't let yourself miss out on your offspring's birth just to get back at me. If you kill me, Apollo, you know you'll be slaughtered."
     "Not if I run." He hissed.
     A pathetic laugh escaped me. "To where? No matter where you go, someone will catch you, and you'll be domesticated all over again. Just give it up, Apollo. I promise I won't be mad." The world around me was starting to fade from view. Groggily, I said, "I swear.... I won't be mad...."
     The clawed hand grew tighter around my throat. "Apologize." Apollo demanded.
     "I'm sorry, Apollo." I whispered as I faded in and out.
     "For what?" He snarled.
     "For hurting you." The words barely left my throat. "I'm so, so sorry, Apollo."
     I was dropped. Sliding down the wall, I left a thick trail of smeared blood.
     Again, my bird was on top of me. "You have to swear!" He urged through clenched teeth and tearful eyes, "You have to swear you won't let them hurt me, or I'll kill you right here!"
     "I swear, hun." I murmured out.
     Through all the anguish, I felt little drops of water fall from Apollo's face onto my abused body.
     A few minutes passed until Darnell rushed through the door, his bird, Fig Newton, in tow.
     "Holy fuck!" Darnell exclaimed at the sight of my blood and flesh scattered around the bungalow.
     "Luka? Apollo?" Fig Newton called out cautiously from the doorway.
     Once Darnell saw the two of us, he sprinted into the fray, unaware that Apollo was the attacker. Fig Newton appeared wiser, attempting to stop their master; they were unsuccessful. The only thing that stopped Darnell in his tracks was the image of Apollo rising to his full height, expanding his wings, baring his fangs and talons, and roaring with blood and flesh coating his body.
     "It's okay, Apollo! We're here to help Luka!" Darnell attempted to appease the bird.
     "Master." Fig Newton grabbed his attention quietly, "Back away."
     "What?" Darnell was stupefied. "Luka is hurt!"
     Fig Newton shimmied an outstretched wing in front of their master. With extended wings and a bared throat, Fig Newton communicated that they weren't a threat, but weren't a target, either.
     "Apollo." The other bird addressed calmly, "Stand down, and we won't hurt you."
     My bird hissed at his senior threateningly.
     Fig Newton's next response was a lighter, "It's okay, little bird. I'm here to help you."
     Apollo's feathers laid down.
     "I need you to be still and put your weapons away. Can you do that for me?"
     Slowly, but surely, the black-and-red-winged bird retracted his claws and let his fangs shift back into teeth.
     "Thank you." Fig Newton hummed, "Now take some steps back so we can check on Luka."
     The lionheart surprisingly did as he was told, submitting to his elder and giving them space to access me. As soon as he was out of the way, Darnell rushed to my side, checking my barely-there pulse.
     He was quick to radio for help. "Darnell to all available units. Luka is hurt really bad— it looks like his bird attacked him. We need medics ASAP."
     I'm not sure how much time passed before Kye sped into the grass just before my front yard, tearing dirt stripes into the earth with a truck. He ran into the home sporting his leather briefcase.
     "Baby," He cooed, finally kneeling by my side, "What happened to you?"
     I only shook my head. Kye seemed to take that for an answer, getting to work on me quickly. I don't remember what he did to me. All I know is that after he intravenously administered me morphine, nothing hurt anymore. Unconsciousness quickly took me.

••••••••••

     Hazy eyes drifted open. An intravenous drip. The feeling of a thin robe on my numb skin. White walls and linoleum floors. It was clear to see that I was in a hospital.
     My exhausted gaze searched the room, finding my dad in an armchair at my bedside. Just a little farther, next to a window, laid Kye passed out on a padded bench turned makeshift bed.
     "You're awake." Dad hummed from his spot. At my attempt to sit up, he corrected me. "Woah, take it easy there, son. Go slow."
     Kye shifted awake. "Luka?" He called out drowsily, "How are you feeling?"
     "Numb." I responded groggily.
     "Good." The dark-skinned man sighed. "You had us all worried back there."
     "It's safe to say I was pretty worried as well." The long sentence danced lazily on my tongue.
     A single staccato laugh left my dad. Seriousness permeated his tone, however. "Don't worry, son, we're slaughtering that monster this afternoon. He's in a holding cell right now."
     "Wait, what?" I forced my way back from the drugged haze. "You can't kill Apollo!"
     "Luka," Kye addressed me incredulously, "He carved you like a turkey!"
     "If he wanted to kill me, he would have." I rationalized. I didn't dare mention that it had taken some convincing.
     "It doesn't matter." My dad replied, his voice raising incrementally. "You nearly died from blood loss anyways."
     "He's right." Kye added. "I had to pump you full of O negative on the way to the hospital just to keep you breathing."
     "He doesn't deserve to die!" I yelled, and the duo went silent. "You can't kill him without my permission, I'm his master!"
     My dad took a deep breath and yelled back, "That thing tried to kill you!"
     "That thing," I cried out, "Is my best friend! I made the mistake of caving into peer pressure and hurting him, and look where it got me. He did this to me because I beat him. Hell, I probably deserved it."
     "You did what you had to. He did what he wanted to." Dad murmured.
     "I didn't have to beat him— I chose to." I could feel my eyes start to burn. "Please, please don't kill my bird."
     Everyone was silent for a few minutes. Finally, my dad spoke. "I will give him one— and I mean one— last chance."
     A huge sigh of relief left my body at his words. "Thank you." Was all I could mutter out.