Here, Gun || OffGun

Chapter 9

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Gun rolled onto his side and pressed his back against the cold transparent wall behind him.

He was tall enough that he could stand up and stretch his legs if he needed to. The walls appeared to be made of clear glass or perhaps plastic with symmetrical air holes drilled into it every foot.

Their dingy rooms were complete with a pillow and an itchy green blanket.

Gun had spent a weekend in a cage in humane society once when the kennel grabbed him outside. By the time Off arrived to pick it up two days later, Gun had been more than ready to go.

The cages then had smelled of other cats and fear, a lot, a lot of fear.

It just smelled of fear.

Gun was full of his own fear, enough to fill twenty cages. The men who had come to the front door of Off's house had threatened to hurt Gun's clueless scientist if he didn't go with them.

Gun knew they were bullies, plain, and simple.

They didn't even pretend they weren't. Gun had no doubt that if he didn't do exactly what they wanted, they would follow through on their threats.

He couldn't allow that.

Gun had always liked Off. He was even proud of the fact that the man was so damn smart. Many of the other pets in the neighborhood were envious of Gun for having such a good human.

It was one of the reasons why Gun often had to fight to maintain his position as the owner of Off. He would fight this time, too ... as soon as he figured out his way out of this bloody transparent cage.

Gun quickly checked the room, grateful to find it empty. He hadn't had much time when he was dragged inside to get a good look at the place. Now that he did, he was a little wishing he hadn't.

The room reminded Gun of the laboratory in Off's basement. There were counters lined with beakers and Petri dishes, microscopes, and formula tables. There were liquid-filled test tubes and bubbling flasks on the Bunsen burners.

It looked almost exactly the same as Off's lab, with one exception. Off did not keep live animals in cages. At the other end of Gun's wide room was a row of smaller cages.

Some were empty. Some were full.

Gun counted two cats, a beagle, and a white bunny.

He's level of fear jumped quickly when he got a good look at the caged animals. They didn't look so good. A couple of them had stunned expressions in their eyes as if they weren't completely there.

Or they had an overdose of catnip.

One of the cats, the brown one, had patches of its fur missing. There were obvious signs of incisions in the exposed skin. The bunny was clearly terrified, pressed back into the cage as much as he could, his pink-rimmed eyes as wide as they could get.

The beagle was just laying there with his head propped between his paws, the sad look in his eyes as if he couldn't understand why he was being treated the way he was.

Gun looked around the room again, making sure they were alone before sitting up and moving to the front of his cage, pressing his hands against the clear plastic wall.

"Hey," he called, trying to keep his voice low, but loud enough to attract the attention of those in the cages. "My name is Gun. We're going to get out of here somehow. I promise."

Not a single ear moved. The animals just kept staring at Gun as if terrified by his very presence. Gun couldn't blame them.

It was obvious that they had been horribly abused by those who had them.