Writetober 2019

October 3-Bait

"You're sure she's been seeing the place these fights are happening?" The tall man asked his bearded friend.

"Dude. I work on the north side. I recognize the place she described from her dream. Grim was 100% a bait dog there. I knew there was something fishy about that place." The bearded man scowled as he thought.

"I still can't believe she's actually seeing things from that dog's memory."

"Have you told her?" A petite strawberry blonde asked.

"No way," The bearded man objected. "Do you know what will likely happen to those dogs when we bust the place?"

She flinched. "Point taken."

"Hold up," The tall man interjected. "What do you mean 'when we bust the place?'"

The bearded man grinned and glanced at the blonde.

"No! No way," She said, suddenly angry.

"Come on. You know we can't let Caitlyn get involved, or she'll want to keep them all."

The tall man frowned and scratched at his stubble. "That wouldn't end well, even if she could get them to all play nice with each other." His posture slouched in resignation. "Alright, when are we doing this?"

"You can't actually be going along with this? John?" The blonde questioned.

"The sooner the better. I've already put Caitlyn off exploring the city to find the place once," The bearded man said.

John nodded. "I should be free tomorrow evening. Connie, you with us?"

"You would make getting inside a lot easier," The bearded man wheedled.

"Oh, fuck off, Everett. I'm in," The blonde grudgingly agreed. "Who else is going to pull your asses out of the fire when this blows up?"

Everett laughed. "There's my girl. You'll be the bait. Now, do you want to go in as a fighter or a bitch? I can see this working either way, though the introduction will be a little different," He mused.

Connie gave him a flat look. "I'll be a fighter. Thanks."

"Can you do scars?" John asked. "Don't think I've ever seen one of your morphs with any. They would make your cover more believable."

Connie sighed and melted before their eyes, Changing from human to canine. In seconds she was a fawn and white male pitt bull with cropped ears and scars across her muzzle and front legs.

Everett looked her over and recommended one or two adjustments. Increasing her bulk here, decreasing the layer of fat under her skin to emphasize muscle definition there. "There we go!" He clapped. "You're practically a canine Adonis! Just one last change, Sweetie. Fighters aren't neutered."

Connie huffed and corrected her morph.

"That is a pretty great disguise," John commented. "I wouldn't mess with you if I saw someone walking you down the street."

"That dogfighting ring won't know what hit them."