Canid Undead: A Dog's Story

4 - Little Experiments

Juno laid, sprawled out on the floor of the abandoned building he and Token had found.

Juno's mind wandered; he'd begun to reminisce about the little memories he'd built with Token as he relaxed beside him.

I can thoroughly remember being in that lab, where the humans would create bio-weapons out of ordinary animals (usually canines. On occasion, they would pick off the useless, fleabag of a cat like me). They gave the dog through the walls horns, and jagged, varying spikes that, according to him, covered his back and tail.

We were in different little rooms. They threw us in here when they don't need us for... whatever they did (I didn't see any point to it all, what they did). A room of confinement.

The dog tells me stories of how he has these thoughts of tearing other dogs and cats and other bio-weapon animals to shreds. He has to taste their blood hitting his tongue, and feel the flesh tear beneath his teeth. He has grown numb to this, in those thoughts. This happens when he is infuriated, and even when he doesn't want to see these thoughts. The very thought disgusts him. I wonder where they come from?

The humans try to make the dog fight, even kill these other animals. Because he refuses and often times will simply stand in the "arena" or "pit", not trying to fight back as his opponent bit and clawed him, the humans whip him and bolt him. Still, he does not comply.

The humans would lock him up.

After, the humans would try to "duplicate" his strength upon the others here.

Through the thin walls, I built a relationship with a dog named Token.

I think back to Token's plan. We would bolt and find the nearest ventilation system to escape through the moment a human opens his door again - opening the door to my enclosure, obviously, after he headbutts that human.

I hope it works out, like Token said it would. He tells of two possibilities he foresees. Failure, success. I don't know what he means by this. Hopefully, fate will choose success for us.

Token often seemed dissatisfied. He was distant at times. He was quiet. Rarely would he ever exhibit true happiness to Juno. It happened, but not too often did it ever occur. It was so lovely when he would. Even in the silence, Juno knew that Token loved him. Was it platonic? Juno didn't care.

Juno made Token feel better about himself, but not exactly "whole". Token felt as if he may never feel whole.

Juno, sitting in the cold, confined, dark room, smiled to himself. He really liked Token.

Sadly, though, the cat knew he could never be Token's. Especially during, what, an apocalypse?

Juno would frown, but cats can't frown. Besides, Token's presence made him much too happy to be sad over something so small, so insignificant.