Creatures of God

The Master Seeks A Human Monster

"What do you want?" Tober cried out.

He lay prone on the cold, damp ground inside a rocky cavern, somewhere deep within the citadel forest. Trembling, he pointed his face downward, his nose wavering just above the gravel floor. He held out his arms and at the same time kept his elbows tucked in to protect his battered ribs. He dared not move from his position of vulnerability. Although he had survived the canine attack on his traveling party, he knew it was temporary. He had been allowed to live, still under the watchful eye of a pack of threatening mongrels. The real question was why.

"There has to be something you guys want, or, or need?" Tober negotiated.

Limiting his outward gaze, Tober found himself in a geologic shelter, enclosed by layers of brown and orange sediment rock. Firelight in the space flickered as the young man watched the shadows of his captors flash upon the walls. There were no doors, only entryways; paths that were not necessarily exits as Tober did not know where he was or how to get out. Any ideas he had of escaping were fleeting. He feared being ravaged by his canine captors at any moment.

"You were in such a hurry, young human," General Mawgrin said in a smooth, deep voice. "You were trespassing."

Mawgrin's voice was sharp and cold, expressionless, as was his face. The brown markings around his eyes and head combined with his white muzzle to give him a sinister look: yellow citrine eyes peering from beyond a dark, fur mask, disguising an unknown -- if not dangerous -- intent. The General circled the young man, as if to tighten the ropes around his preordained fate. He openly carried a firearm strapped over his shoulder and made sure the human noticed.

Tober stared at the pair of boots standing in front of himself. A brown tail moved like a whip in the background.

"We didn't know we were trespassing."

"How could you not know? Humans know better than to cut through Canine territory."

Tober breathed heavily. He had been in charge of a special envoy sent to HP headquarters. Their mission: to coordinate evacuation plans from the Science Center. Unfortunately for the humans, Tober's small group had gotten turned around in their direction, and captured. The other humans in his party had already been killed.

"Where were you going?" the senior mongrel questioned.

Tober could not excuse his travels. "Nowhere, really."

Mawgrin snickered. "What were you doing?"

"Nothing, we were just going for a visit to, uh, see some other people."

"Going nowhere, doing nothing, heh-heh," Mawgrin smiled. "Sounds like a load of cat crap." The General pulled out an outdated wristcom and activated it. A green hologram popped up and played a video of Tober's traveling party moving discreetly through the forest earlier in the day. An audio portion was heard:

" 'This ain't right. We're lost.' "

" 'Sons of Shermin, I think we're gonna have to backtrack and reorient.' "

" 'Hurry, we've gotta get this mission completed!' "

Abruptly, the General snapped the imaging off.

"Now that sounds like someone doing something more than just passing through by mistake."

Tober's jaw loosened. Humans had long suspected the canines' surveillance capability. Even encrypted messages were now at risk. Previously captured humans and their seized equipment had compromised their means of communication.

"Tell us about this mission," Mawgrin growled, "and maybe we'll let you live."

Tober had not really believed in the animals' intelligence capacity. Until now.