Creative Writing: Only the Animals
Dog Onyx = husky Cat Firestorm (sunny) = Ashera Savannah
The sound of the gun firing makes my ears ring but I merely blink. The thud of the body hitting the polished wood is all too familiar. I yawn and get up to move to my plush cushion, careful to avoid stepping in the spilled blood, to prevent the gruesome red from getting onto my gorgeous black and white coat. I lazily watch as the boss presses a button on his intercom and speaks into it. Soon after a group of masked people come in and remove the body and it’s remains. Good, I think to myself. I hate it when anything is dirty, everything as to be nothing short of spotless. The boss starts talking rapidly on his phone and I listen in hopes of identifying any words. Many of my kind have been known to replicate the human language and I pride myself in my ability to pick up this skill. I watch as Boss Man finishes pacing around his expensive office and then finally sits back down, so I take this as my cue to rest my head on my paws and welcome the abyss of sleep.
I sit by the door, alert and waiting. The boss has a new companion in the room and it is my job to watch and predict her every muscle twitch.
I am the protector of the Boss. Many times, I have been the difference between life and death for my Boss. Countless people come into this room under the guise of striking a deal with the Boss. Although many of these criminals have different tactics when it comes to trying to kill the Boss, few ever succeed or even leave this room. Those that do leave the Boss’s office are caught in an “accident” sooner or later.
I listen in to their conversation as best as I can and come to the conclusion that there is a negotiation being made about two Mafia families joining together with the same goal in mind. Suddenly, I detect a flicker of movement from the corner of my eye. I jump up, already growling, as I begin stalking towards the continuous activity. I begin to get into position to attack when the Boss calls out for me to back down. A sleek cat emerges from behind the antique cabinet and I take a few steps backwards, still growling quietly in warning. The cat lets a small smirk slip as it gracefully jumps into the lady’s lap and then plants its spotty ass down. She pats the miniature leopard and starts gushing over the feline. I stomp my way over to the Boss’s side, glaring at the new comer the entire time.
As the conversation continues overhead, I learn many things. The pompous cat is a purebred Ashera Savannah Cat named Firestorm. The Boss and the Lady have struck a deal and are joining the two Mafia Families together for a few months to execute some master plan. It seems the stupid Cheetah rip-off is going to be staying. At some point the cat had curled up in a ball on the Lady’s lap and judging by the steady rhythm of it’s breathing, had fallen asleep. I whined and lay down with a paw over my nose, deciding the Boss was safe enough. In moments like these, I don’t let myself fall asleep. I only let myself relax but I keep alert and awake in case something unexpected happens.
Currently the Boss is out on a mission. Usually I would come along on the operation but I am stuck babysitting a pompous furball. Speaking of that cat, where is he? I survey the room, keeping calm like my years of training have taught me. I spot a tail slip out of the slightly open door and leap to my feet, ready to follow it. Out the door and into the hallway, weaving my way through the forest of moving legs as I attempt to keep up with the liquid feline. “Oi Sunny cat!” I call out, making a few startled heads turn my way. Humans, always so baffled by my native language. I tilt my head in confusion as the cat speeds up instead of slowing down. I roll my eyes. ‘Selfish furball,’ I think to myself as I break into a light jog. I catch up to the cat in just a few steps and I think I hear this poor excuse for a miniature cheetah mutter a curse, but I just brush it off. We stay in silence as we walk down the blank hallway. I really don’t want to waste my voice on this annoying cat, but the silence is starting to pick at my nerves. “So you said your name was Sunny?” I break the silence
“It’s Firestorm, you mangy mutt,” the cat hisses at me.
“Ok Flowerpower, where are we off to?” I purposefully take a jab. The cat’s fur begins to stand on end and I take great delight in it.
“Where I am going is none of your business. Now get your derpy snout and inconsolable tail out of my sight!” The angry feline takes a swipe at my face with his claws extended. I sit down on the cold marble floor as the cat stomps off, giving the impresson that I had given up following the cat. Just as he turns the corner, I race up to him and resume my position at his side. Firestorm startles, hissing at me with his back arched. On the inside, I am rolling around howling at this fool before me but on the outside, I keep my composure. The cat stands in front of me, screeching insults about my kind but I barely hear the angered feline. Instead, I am focused on his collar, on the sparkling fake leather and in the place of the usual nametag or bell, is a small camera.
Instantly I am on my paws, growling and baring my sharp teeth as I back the sly cat into a corner. “What is it Soggydog? Something I said hit a little puppy nerve hmm…?” Firestorm asks, trying to taunt me.
I snapped my jaws in his direction, making him fold into a crouch.
“What is with the filming device?” I growl.
There is a flicker of panic that crosses across Firestorm’s face, a crack in his mask, before he is back to being calm and conniving. He decides to act innocently. “What camera? I don’t see a camera anywhere on my collar.” The cat says feigning confusion.
“You can’t see your own collar, dumbass!” I snarl, taking a step toward the cunning cat.
Suddenly Firestorm lunges forward, hissing and spitting as he swipes at my face with extended claws. I am stunned by the attack and belatedly realise my snout is bleeding. However, injuries do not matter right now. What does matter is that the cat needs to die. I race off after Firestorm. I give him credit for how fast he is. Turns out that cheetah insult wasn’t much of a lie. Unfortunately for him, I am bigger, faster and overall more powerful. I am a purebred huskie. Descendant of the almighty wolf. I am a fierce warrior trained to draw blood.
I race after the cat. Doorways and faces alike blurring as I speed past. Some idiotic humans aren’t nimble enough to get out of my way so they end up flailing around but I barely blink as they land on the marble ground with a pained shriek. Suddenly Firestorm takes a sharp turn, making me skid on the slippery floor in an attempt to slow down. I shoot around the corner into a familiar room but I don’t have time to ponder on the feeling before I am launching myself at the sly cat. We roll around on the wooden floorboards scratching and trying to bite the other’s throat out. Each patch of fur ripped out is followed by hissing and growling and a steady flow of blood. I can faintly hear somebody else yelling but the rushing of blood in my ears makes it near impossible to distinguish who or what they are saying. Just as I have the cat pinned and ready for the final kill, I am yanked away by some unidentifiable force. I writhe around trying to snap at whoever dares stop me from finishing the job when I belatedly realise that my boss is the one holding me back. I hang suspended in mid-air with spit flying into my face as the boss yells at me. I whine in confusion. “I thought I was doing the right thing? He has a camera on his collar!” I want to scream back in his face. All of a sudden, we are moving. I cannot see anything besides the boss’s angry red face so I have no idea where I am going. I don’t even have time to blink before I am flying through the air. My ragdoll body hits the stone ground with a sickening crack. I barely have time to stop my head from spinning before rough hands are grabbing my snout and forcing some metallic cage over it. I am helpless as a chain is tightened around my neck then secured to the floor. An insult is thrown my way before the door slams shut. I lay my head down on my paws which is when I realise there is something clamped in my jaw. With a bit of effort I relax my jaw and let the thing fall. It makes a metallic sound as it hits the stone. I let out a breath in surprise as I realise it is the stupid cat’s collar.
An indiscernible amount of time passes before the door opens. A shaky underling walks in carrying a bowl of what I presume is food for me. He timidly puts it down near me and I push the collar towards him with my nose. He reaches a shaky hand towards it and inspects it before scampering out of the room with it. ‘What a knob’ I think to myself as I miserably look at the food. I don’t have much of an appetite.
Minutes tick by in an agonising fashion. I am startled awake when the door bangs open. There stands the boss. The light behind him makes me squint as he marches up to me. Any other dog would cower in fear but not me; I have been trained to never show signs of weakness. I am stunned when instead of the awaiting violence I am swept into the bosses arms. He starts talking about betrayal and me being right. Honestly, I only understood little bits of the word waterfall spilling from his mouth but I do understand that I saved the day and I deserve a lifetime of pampering. The mouth cage and chains are removed and I am carried out of the room. I perk up at the prospect of getting my matted fur all clean. After all, I saved the day, I deserve a bit of spoiling.