Content/Trigger Warning:
This story includes mentions and graphic depictions of bodily harm, abuse, and lots and lots of crying.
The bell rang, signaling yet another customer into the pet shop. A brief shadow passed overhead, of a human, and Shark ducked behind the cheap plastic coral. It wasn't much, but it was enough to hide how his whole body trembled, enough to hide him from view.
Loud, booming voices rolled overhead, and he felt himself shrink into a tight, curled ball. It was all so much, all too much, he was going to die...
The net tangled around his entire body, wrapping him in an unescapable web of thick, heavy rope. His gills flared, as he gasped and hiccuped. His tail thrashed weakly, but he was still being pulled upwards, faster and faster. Suddenly, he couldn't feel the water anymore, and then-
Shark let out a brief, strangled whine, and slowly let himself sink into the cold rocks at the bottom of the tank. It was foreign, artificial; none of it reminded him of the warm sand and small, cool pebbles that he loved to rub his scales against. He shivered at the cold creeping up his spine, and let himself tremble.
He could still feel their hands, their claws, their tails beating down on him... they jeered, they laughed, they pushed and shoved; one moment he was upright, and then he was tumbling head over tail, an agonizing bruise formed on his cheek. It wasn't the first one he'd received, not by a long shot.
And it certainly wasn't the last.
He didn't even realize he was crying, sobbing, until he saw the little glowing whisps of tears mixing into the water, like thick blood.
He didn't even fight against capture like the others, like they'd all been trained to. Instead, he'd simply surrendered to his fate, while he bawled like a newborn.
He probably deserved capture, if he was that much of a failure.
Shark wrapped his arms around his midsection, arching over, and letting his tail bump his forehead as he wailed, his eyes bleeding tears, like a fish stabbed straight through its soft underbelly. His chest stuttered in uneven rhythm, as he heaved and sobbed. His fists clenched and unclenched weakly, numb and shaky.
He didn't even notice that he was being taken away, until he looked up, and met a cruel sneer.
...
Two Months Later
Mel rubbed his eyes, tiredly, and stepped into a dinky pet store, half-chewed dog collar in one hand, and a crumpled up five-dollar bill in the other. The bell tinkled lightly, and a brief barking could be heard. He quickly pulled out his cellphone, sending his friend a text.
Hello_Mello
i swear, u owe me one|-
GarageMan
-| i owe you nothing <3
Hello_Mello
how did u even convince me to come here? |-
GarageMan
-| i know you care about buster and hes a sweet pupper
Hello_Mello
when i get him a pink collar ur not complaining |-
GarageMan
-| i would never complain ;)
Mel groaned inwardly, and glanced around the shop for a decent collar for Buster. The puppy had already chewed through the ridiculously low-quality collar, so Gareth had given him five bucks, and told him to just "buy whatever collar he felt was right for Buster."
