Claws

Door Nail

LUKA

I wasn't cruel. I wasn't unnecessarily evil. I was just what I needed to become to survive being torn apart by the creature that was supposed to love me most of all.
At least, that's what I told my therapist.
Dr. Hendrix didn't seem particularly impressed by this. She peaked at me over the rim of her lowered brow line glasses. They were black with golden accents. Her piercing brown eyes inspected me for any sign of faltering character. Dark, straight hair framed her oval face. Brown Indian skin wrinkled on her forehead as she thought.
Finally, her clipboard was placed in her lap.
"Luka," The doctor addressed me casually, "Have you achieved lower anxiety from our sessions?"
I thought for a moment from where I sat in a tiny office on a rather comfortable gray couch. I was calmer around my lionheart. My nightmares were less extreme. The heart in my chest didn't begin racing when I saw feathers or heard growling.
I settled on a, "Yes."
"Good. How about your depression? Has that been lessened?"
My thoughts were aloud this time. "Well, I haven't cut myself in a few months. I've been able to feed and clean myself recently. So yes."
"And what about your relationship with your lionheart? Have you been able to build upon it with the skills we've covered?"
My mouth moved to one side of my face, scrunched up in thought. "Apollo and I aren't best friends anymore, but that's to be expected." I rationalized, "We have a more traditional handler-lionheart relationship now."
"And are you pleased with that?" Dr. Hendrix questioned.
Again, I was left deep in thought. Eventually, I decided on, "It's adequate."
"But are you fulfilled?" The therapist pressed.
"It'll never be the same." I relented, "And I'm coming to terms with that."
Dr. Hendrix nodded, and took a calming breath. I followed suit.
Our weekly sessions took place in Veridian. Like every week, I sent Apollo to go play with Blizzard while I was gone. Joan was happy to watch him. Or least, that's what she told me.
Like every week, I got fast food after my session. A double-decker cheeseburger, large fry, and a cherry cola. The meal gave me a semblance of "normal" and I held onto it as long as I could before venturing back to Blue Moon.
Today was a little bit different, though. Today, I got a call from my buddy, Mateo, on the drive home.
"Hey!" I greeted the other man with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. "How's it going?"
The slightly-fuzzy voice at the other end of the phone greeted me back. "Hi Luka, it's going alright over here. How goes it over on your end of the US?"
"It's okay." I replied.
"Are we still on for tomorrow?" Mateo asked.
"Yes, we are. Getting my bird prepped today." I hummed blithely. I was soon to be seven-hundred-thousand dollars richer.
"Excellent." Mateo replied, "I'll meet you at the front gate around 8am. Just call me when you pull up."
"Sounds good." I finalized, "We'll get headed that way tonight."
"See you soon, Dr. Fryre." Mateo hummed.
"See you, Dr. Gonzalez." I returned, and the phone call ended with a click.
Did Apollo know we were taking a little road trip this evening? Nope. But he didn't need to know, either.
As soon as I parked the SUV in the mansion's garage, I went to fetch our weekly ration from the kitchen. It came in a cold, cardboard box that required two arms to carry. I thanked the cook, and was on my way home.
The walk back to my abode was long with such a heavy parcel. Ever since the attack, I hadn't worked out nearly as much as I previously did, so the box was especially heavy. The only exercise I got these days was running Apollo.
The attack....
Flashes of memories flitted past my eyes. For a moment, I was there again, and then back on my walk to my home. The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. The sound of flesh being torn from my shoulder.
Deep, calming breaths centered me. I closed my stinging eyes and focused my hearing to find the furthest thing away from me that I could still hear— a woodpecker knocking on the bark several hundred feet away.
Opening my eyes once more, I scoured my surroundings to find something red. A stripe on the side of my tennis shoes. Next, orange: a meek flower that I had accidentally crushed under my right foot. I continued with all of the colors of the rainbow until I felt particularly centered.
Then, I continued on my stroll home as if nothing had even happened.
Once I arrived, I set to work making a delicious lionheart meal. It wasn't because I loved my charge— it was because he needed to eat well before being bred, and I doubted that he would eat once he found out where I was taking him.
Approximately an hour later, I had a full sautéed heart, diced liver, two pickled eyeballs, some downtown-style steak, and an entire human hand arranged on a platter in front of me, complete with a glass of blood on the side.
"Apooooolloooooo!" I sang into my bird collar remote as blithely as possible, "I made you lunch!"
He wasn't so easily fooled. "Why?" My bird questioned.
"No reason." I hummed back, "Come before it gets cold!"
Radio silence. Then, two minutes later, I felt the earth shake as Apollo touched down particularly hard outside.
The bird gave me an angry, yet curious look as he entered. He still hadn't forgiven me for the comment I made while we were away at agility trials, and frankly, I didn't need him to. I just needed him to eat.
"What's all this about?" He asked again, motioning to the platter I had set on the kitchen table.
"To celebrate your recent win!" I lied with a smile.
That seemed to satiate the creature. He walked himself over to the plate, and tested out a pickled eyeball. Immediately, he fell in love with the meal, sitting down and digging in without any utensils.
"AHT AHT!" I corrected. The bird looked up at me with big blue eyes, and for a moment it seemed that he was unaware what he had done wrong.
"Utensils." I reminded him.
"Mmmmm." He hummed, using a once-clean napkin to wipe off his grubby fingers and getting to work with a knife and fork this time.
I was astonished by how quickly the lionheart devoured the gargantuan meal. If I hadn't known any better, I'd say he hadn't eaten in days.
When all was said and done, Apollo looked uncomfortably full. Perfect.
"Oh, hun, do you not feel good?" I murmured to my charge. When he shook his head No, I offered, "Why don't you get a shower and take a nap?"
"That's a great idea." Apollo groaned, rising from his seat and making his way to our bathroom.
Really, it was like he knowingly played into my hands.
Not twenty minutes later, the lionheart was sprawled out on my bed, snoozing away. I took a seat next to him and began planning our trip.
If I were to make it to Mateo's facility by 8am, we needed to leave at midnight. The drive itself would be fairly easy. Keeping Apollo sedated the entire time, however, would not be.
What if I just kept him in restraints? That would remove the need for sedatives and painkillers once they wore off.
Restraints sounded like a better idea. The last thing I needed was to waste both Mateo and I's time with a drowsy lionheart who couldn't get it up.
     I decided to take the opportunity to pack while my lionheart was incapacitated. My good ol' black duffel bag was loaded with two outfits for both me and my bird, some books to keep him occupied— if he was feeling up to reading, that is— hygiene products, restraints, of course: gloves and mitts, muzzle and a gag, boots, leather ties for the ankles, wrists, and wings, and we were good to go!
      Next off was to plan my route. My phone's built-in map software made easy work of that, and soon, I was all ready to go.
     Checking the time, I noticed it was only five in the evening.
Well, I guess I could get some sleep before hitting the road.
     And that I did. My dreams were filled with money, money, money. Showering in money. Spending money; spending money on cars, ranches, birds, entry fees. Plopping in bed at the end of a long day, only to find out the mattress was comprised of freshly-laundered hundred dollar bills.
     It was a great dream. Too soon, however, it was over, and I was face with the reality of getting my ornery lionheart eight hours away from home with nothing but a van and heavy restraints.
     "Oh well." I hummed to myself, "Let's get this show on the road."
      Apollo stirred next to me at the sound of my voice. Groggy eyes blinking open, he asked, "Master?"
     "Hey, hun." I whispered to my charge, gently stroking his cheek as I spoke. "We're going somewhere."
     The lionheart furrowed his brow. "Where?"
     "I'll tell you in just a minute." I said, "First, let me restrain you."
     Apollo's trust went out the window. He scooted away from me in bed, claws carefully slipping out of his fingertips. "....Why?" The bird inquired.
     "Still." I ordered, and almost instinctively, Apollo did as he was told.
     Opening our luggage, my first order of business was to get those grabbers contained. This time I opted for mitts rather than gloves; they were a bit more secure. Next, leather binds which ate my charge's wrists, tying them together. Apollo shifted his wrists uncomfortably at the newfound tightness.
     My trusty silver basket muzzle came third. I fastened it tighter than usual to the bird's face. There was plenty of padding— he'd be just fine.
     Boots were next. Black, ankle-high socks with reinforced kevlar padding along the toes were pulled onto the lionheart's feet. Custom made, size ten-and-a-half. Foot by foot, the equally-custom boots were pulled on and laced up. Finally, another leather restraint fastened together the ankles of now-fully-tied bird.
     "Good booooy!" I praised the bird, ruffling his hair. He looked a little perturbed, but this wasn't anything he hadn't experienced before. "Now stay." I stressed, despite knowing he couldn't move if he wanted to.
     As I turned tail to fetch the SUV, Apollo asked meekly, "W-Where are you going?"
     "Getting the car." I hummed. I left out the front door before his line of questioning could continue.
     Fifteen minutes later, I pulled up to my home with a black SUV. This model was specifically fitted with a large metal-bare cage in place of a back seat and trunk. Perfect for transporting lionhearts. Popping the trunk and unlatching the cage door, I went to fetch my bird.
     Apollo was much heavier than I remembered. Either that, or my muscles were much weaker than they had previously been. Whichever it was, I struggled to lift the lionheart over my shoulder and carry him to the back of the vehicle. It was an act of congress to maneuver the tall bird into the cage.
     "You know," Apollo finally spoke up, "This would be much easier if I was unbound. I could get in myself."
     "Not...." I strained to finally push his body through the cage door. "....Happening!"
     "Can you at least tell me why you've got me bound like a mummy?" Apollo demanded.
     I locked the cage door and closed the trunk, effectively ignoring the lionheart.
     "Luka!" He yelled as I clambered into the driver's seat.
     "Remember Void?" I hummed. My bird's face dropped. "You're going to have a play date with her."
     "I don't want to." Apollo's voice was crestfallen.
     "Oh well." I retorted.
     "I don't want to!" He yelled this time. "God damn you, Luka!"
     "That's Master, to you." I sighed. The bird kept griping and squeaking and screaming.
     Good thing I grabbed noise-canceling headphones.
     Fishing the Bluetooth devices out of my pocket, I paired them quickly, popping them in each ear.
     Sweet, sweet silence.
     We took the back ways, where less cops patrolled the roads and we were less likely to get pulled over for something mundane. I didn't feel like paying off a police officer today.
     The drive was relatively peaceful. For several hours, anyways, until halfway through my bird began to kick and scream again.
     "Do you need anything, birdie?" I asked lightly, taking out my right headphone.
     "Let me the fuck out of here, Luka!" Apollo screeched. "I'm not some kind of stud!"
     "You were fine with it for about four hours." I hummed with a playful tone, "What changed?"
     A vicious snarl emanated from the bird. "I've been growling at you for about four hours. You just haven't heard me!"
     "Mhm." I hummed, slipped my earbud back into my ear.
      Barely audible, I heard a "DON'T IGNORE ME YOU BASTARD!"
      An hour later, I desperately had to pee. I wouldn't dare stop, however; all Apollo needed was a chance and he'd escape. I didn't doubt it for a second.
     Well, I wouldn't dare stop until another sixty minutes droned by. I could practically feel kidney stones forming.
     Taking out my right ear bud once more, I was pleased to hear my bird snoring away quietly.
     I guess he wore himself out.
     Now seemed like an ideal time for a pit stop. Taking the next exit, I located a gas station and pulled in to the darkest corner of the parking lot. A quick check on my bird told me that he was still snoring lightly.
     A deep breath. The cracking of the joints in my neck. And off I went on to the world's fastest pit stop.
     As soon as I entered the rather slimy gas station, I noticed there was a line for the bathroom.
     Really? At five-thirty in the morning?
     I decided to gather my snacks while I waited. Snow Balls, potato chips, and a cherry cola found their way into my hands before I spied something I hadn't laid eye on in years.
      A Twinkie.
      The sight of the golden prize made me think back to when I first met Apollo— then, Derrick. So much had changed between us. So much had changed with each of us.
      I decided to grab the Twinkie, too.
      As I checked out, I put on my best southern hospitality for the exhausted clerk. With a Thank you much here and a Have a blessed night there, I felt just a little bit better about my impact on the world.
Finally, the line to the bathroom had died down. The world's quickest wiz and hand wash commenced, and soon, I was out the door of the gas station.
My heart jumped into my throat at the sight before me.
Someone was trying to break into my car.
Someone was trying to break into my car, which had an incredibly angry lionheart inside.
"HEY!" I screamed at the bald-headed white man in a maroon hoodie. He looked up from where he stood at the driver's side door, fiddling with a lock pick.
Sprinting towards the man, I didn't care if he had a gun. I didn't care if he shot me. All I really cared about was if my lionheart would be alive at the end of whatever path I was sprinting down.
Surprise, the man pulled out a gun.
"Get lost!" He whisper-shouted at me.
"I already called the police!" I bluffed, and the man laughed.
"No you didn't, you scrawny little twink! Now get lost before your brains end up on the sidewalk!" He hissed.
I didn't like where this was going.
There was really only one option here, and I didn't like it much at all.
I backed away slowly, put my hand on my bird collar remote, pressed the call button, and said, "Apollo, I need you to roar really loud right now."
A yawn, and then a "....Fuck you, Luka." was my bird's response.
The thief froze. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he made direct eye contact with my lionheart.
Then, Apollo had the sense to obey me, snarling and screeching like a demented dinosaur.
Screaming in terror, the thief dropped his gun, scrambling away from the car. He yelled obscenities and hollered all the way into the street, where a car collided with him at a blistering sixty miles an hour.
"Holy shit!" I cussed. He was dead as a door nail.
Did I kill him?
No, no, the driver killed him.
....Right?
Regardless, I ran to my car, unlocking the door with my key fob as I approached. The engine roared to life as I jammed the keys in the ignition. We peeled out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, merging on the interstate not long after, the dead man in the street in the rear view mirror.
"What the hell just happened?" Apollo demanded, popping his head up as we accelerated to the speed limit.
"I'm pretty sure that guy just died." I replied anxiously.
"I heard tires screeching." My charge replied.
"He ran into the street and got hit by a car doing about sixty." I revealed, and Apollo just shook his head and laid back down.
"This doesn't mean I'm okay with what's happening." He clarified, "I'm just exhausted from fighting these restraints."
"You've been fighting your restraints?" I questioned with amusement, "I suppose it didn't get you anywhere."
Apollo was giving me the silent treatment, now.
The rest of the drive was thankfully quiet and uneventful. I counted my lucky stars that we made it out of the attempted robbery in once piece, even if the thief himself didn't. I needed to count my lucky stars again to ensure the breeding would go well.