Dog Gone (21)

Story by Roofles on SoFurry

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Dog Gone (21) By Roofles

Chains, hooks and barbed wire like a masochist closet. It was a bit melodramatic, I mean really. But Hudson had always said if you wanted to do something right...make it as over the top as possible. At least in that case he had a strange sense of humor. The wired mesh screen allowed us a clear view of the room from where we stood like the seats for a rather sick, twisted movie theater. And to put it bluntly. I wasn't impressed as I examined the black, soot covered, bars next to the wire mesh. It just...could've been done better is all.

The large pit in the middle of the room was located above the furnace which heated this section of the facility. It looked more of a sacrificial pit than a furnace opening though. Blood had been smeered on the walls and body parts lay in the corners. I don't even understand why this was exactly. It'd be simply easier to push them in rather than chop them up and slowly drop the pieces in one by one like ingredients to a stew. Maybe to allow the hosts of said parts to watch them drop into their doom? I wasn't sure, the heat was getting to me even from where we stood. It was hard to think. The heat was almost unbearable and I found myself perspiring even standing where I was. The smell was sickening and it turned my stomach. But it looked like a bad horror house otherwise. Still I wasn't impressed.

Several other dogs had been...crucified in the same manner as 612. He seemed to be the only one alive though. But Biscuit insisted we checked them all. It wasn't as if a minute or two would make a difference in getting 612 down anyways, so I obliged if only to humor him. The husky was taking this rather hard and his apperance had turned to stone. It wasn't that big of a deal really, after everything we've been through afterall. But again a cold exterior formed around him hiding any trace of emotion or humanity from view. He really was a good actor. That annoyed me.

There was a walkway on the side of the screen and bars that stood before us. There weren't any doors; there wouldn't really be much need after all. No sane creature would venture into this place willingly and those inside weren't exactly in the position to get out. No matter which position they were in... I thought having to turn my head upside down to really get a good look at the Afghan hound.

We hugged the wall, without touching it seeing as how it was still dripping, and made our ways around to the far side. Several medieval torture devices had been set up and mounted on the walls. Blood stained and gritty as the floor itself. There was even an iron maiden in the corner. It was shut tightly and we both decided it was best not to look inside. Several dogs had been locked up in different mechanisms, chained and locked up each worst than the next. He didn't have the heart to look inside some of them and I had no interest either. It was kind of clear that those ones weren't worth saving. It'd be better if they just died than live after the turmoil they had gone through.

"This ones still alive. The other two..." Biscuit voice trailed off as he shut the dogs eyes laying them to the side with the others he had collected. I tended to the living one. Not sure why he didn't just push 'em into the pit like the ones before. Be a better funeral than rotting up here. The ancient viking had set fire to their dead. It was an honorable thing...for some cultures.

He was a yellow lab, this survivor. His fur had been mostly stained and soiled though with dirt, grime, soot and blood. The chains peeling off his flesh leaving behind large bloody scars on his wrist and ankles and neck. His back had a large gash in it as well but the wound wasn't as deep as it appeared even if it was still dripping. Like a mother carrying her pups the hook only dug into the back of their loose neck fur and skin. It seemed to serve more as a means of holding them than any actual damage. Prostating them up high for any passer byers to see. A warning? Or testament to the insanity that had seemed to have taken the minds of my coworkers.

"Most of them died of thirst." Cracking his muzzle open I could see just how dry the mucous membrane was. His skin was dry, cracking and had no "bounce" to it I explained to the husky. His eyes might as well have been marbles from a childs playset, devoid of any moisture. They were sunken in on themselves as well. Racing pulse and rapid breathing. All clear signs of dehydration. "Their wounds are mostly minimal. Painful? Yes. Lethal? Not exactly." Prisoners of torture. Those who resisted and fought only trying to survive against the system. Imprisoned here to die, a pity really. Even I could see that. Torture was rather pointless unless you were trying to extract some kind of information from them. This was just cruel and unusual and served no mans needs but the sick and twisted of a sadist. Unfortunately that could left any of the half dozen that could be responsible for this predicament.

"Check this guy," Biscuit said hefting the dog from his shoulder next to the yellow lab. An australian shephard. It was hard to tell what was wrong with all his fur at first. I did what I could and cleaned the wounds on the neck though as I had the other. He too was alive at least. More than what could be said about the dozen others Biscuit had brought over. The pile only grew larger. It would be easier to carry the survivors out and screw the rest. I couldn't even work properly under these situations with this environment only making the matter worst. At least hung up on the walls they weren't exposed to this places...charm.

The ground was...slimey. The air around us was muggy and heavy and it was hard to breath. The smell of death was in the air and the furnace opening only made it worst. Like a tomatoe rotting in the sun the heat made the left overs around us rot and decay faster. And sweat continued to trickle down my forhead matting my fur to my face, sagging my whiskers. It made this muzzle feel heavy as if weighing my face down. I wanted to wipe it away but the grime in the air had coated the top layer of my fur in filth making it impossible to wipe it off without just smeering it around and making the matter worse.

"Three bullet wounds on the chest?" I inspected the largest dog in the room. My fingers traced through that matted blood soaked fur slowly feeling the smooth outline of his muscular chest before my finger dipped into one of the holes. He had died a long time ago.

I think the husky purposelly got 612 down last. The rottweiler was torn up worst than the others. Most the wounds had healed already, old scars thankfully... The ones on his face were from infighting. I remember reading reports about it and I believe it was Hubert that had pitted them against one another to weed out the weak and sickly; he always had been a huge fan of Darwin. The winners could get warm fresh meals and the loser were left to starve in the hopes that the next day they would try harder. The ones on his head however were from... I gritted my teeth inspecting them. It looked like the scarring of an exploritory search. Like a child cracking their toy open to see how things worked inside. Something I would've done...

"We should get the three out of here before any patrols come through." I picked up 612, tossing one of his arms over my shoulder and hoisting him up. One of his legs helped support the weight a bit but he leaned mostly on me. That rich pugnet smell was strong and the familiar weight and warmth was...comforting. I didn't want to admit it though and found myself unable to look at the dogs head now resting on my shoulder. Yet smelling him was far better than the room around me and I would've gladly dug my nose into that fur than smell this room any longer - dog nose or not the smell would make even a couriner lose his lunch.

"I got these two then." Biscuit said picking one up under each arm. Out of the seventeen we found we only managed to save three. Or rather only three were left alive.

612 was sweating, his under arm dampening my shoulder. I didn't even know the Brutus line could sweat. In fact they couldn't. The bio matrix was designed like any other dogs. Their paws could sweat but thats about it. "It's ok to carry them like this right? They aren't going to get worse are they?" The husky asked looking over at me for clarification as he always seemed to.

I shook my head. "Their injuries are minimal once more. Someone peeled their nails off, plucked their whiskers, elecrtified their scrotum." I shrugged. "Minimal stuff. Painful but not lethal. The atmosphere here is perfect for infection though. Starving and dieing of thirst is what caused most of them to perish."

Biscuit shivered though even in the heat. "Sorry I asked."

I barely heard him as we headed out. 612 had let out a low groan and he had my full attention. He was steadily coming to consciousness but the pain kept him in an almost drunk stupor sleep he couldn't wake from. "It's alright," I found myself saying. Of course it would be it didn't need to be stated though. "Everything's going to be fine. I got you." It was rather redundant to say to the nearly unconcious dog. It might've been true but it didn't needed to be said. "You'll be fine." I continued though despite myself. Whispering soothing words to a dog that I doubt could even hear me. It didn't make much sense.

He rested against me a bit more as the weight increased, unable to support himself anymore. His breathing was labored and he kept twitching. "If we find a med lab I can dose 'em up a bit. Make things easier." I said aloud as we got them into the corridor. It was almost cold in the hallway in comparison to that room.

I looked over at Biscuit and he was smiling at that. His tail even wagged. It wasn't that great of news. Yet he seemed happy so whatever worked. I gripped 612's side a bit more as I carried the mutt resting my head against the one on my shoulder as we went. It was just easier this way. I didn't get why he was so happy. We had three nearly died dogs with us and still had to make our way back to the central part of the facility.

"So now that we got your...dog, what's the plan?" Biscuit asked as we made our way back.

"We'll meet up with the Brutus line stationed around Eden and deal with Hudson. Once we tended to these guys wounds." I nuzzled the head on my shoulder and he groaned again. The familiarity of it all was beyond comfort. I couldn't explain it...but I was happy to have the dog here again. His weight, smell, the feel of his fur and the voice all seemed to ignite a torch inside me. Like finding an old lost friend or remembering something you had forgot. Once lost and forgotten and now found. It was trivial. Stupid. But I enjoyed the moment. I didn't even really feel like myself as if it was another experiencing these emotions instead of myself. But I couldn't deny the connection I had with him.

His paw was resting partially on my shoulder and as we made our way up the stairs it gripped my shoulder a bit tighter. Those strong fingers tightening on my lab coat. The weight eased up against me and I stopped letting him get his footing before continueing at a much slower pace. It was like trying to rehibilitate a car crash victim. I kept a steady eye on him and stayed by his side as one leg supported most of his weight. The other followed but both gave out and he fell to the ground.

I guided him, catching his fall and lowering him down a bit. "Easy does it. No need to rush." Once more the words weren't needed and yet I found myself saying them. My ears had folded back and I was panting looking at him. Those words didn't even sound like my own.

Such a scarred face he had. Beaten and battered. He kind of looked like a street thug having fought in one brawl after another. Everytime coming out the victor. I couldn't think of what he was fighting for. Food? Survival? Some kind of reward I'd imagine but the details eluded me. The reason for his actions were a mystery, shrouded from my understanding. I barely remember him as it was. I kept assosiating him with the Brutus from the false reality which only made things more confusing. And seemed to put me more at ease.

His fur was black, greasy and soiled from that Jail Cell. But even so I found myself trailing my fingers through the brown part of his cheek and to the back of his neck where I scratched. A lot of dogs prefered belly rubs or back scratches but 612...Brutus had always liked the neck ones best. Especially under the chin. My hand drifted underneath scratching that downy fur and feeling the strong thick neck under it. Pure muscle. I doubt I'd find a trace of fat on this dog. Which was kind of sad, really. That only further told me how much hell he had been through. Unable to even get the luxury every American had. To get fat, heh.

Those hazelnut eyes were looking at me. I hadn't even noticed as I was inspecting one of the scars on the back of his head. I pulled back, nearly flinching before that gaze. I found myself breathing heavily, panting even. My face was flush and I felt hotter than I had been in the room before. Didn't make sense...

"You back with us, 612?" I asked my voice cracking a bit. I swallowed loudly in the quiet hallway trying to quench my now parched throat. It was as if I was the hung up on the wall like smoked meat.

"Heh," his voice was gruff and deep. Dry. His tongue must've felt like sandpaper. "I hadn't been called that...in a long time." He took his time speaking. Forming the words slowly like a new Brutus. I doubted most of the ones from before could actually speak. It was something you had to manually teach them.

"Easy," I spoke again as he rested forward against my chest. Breathing hottly against it which only made my fur stand on end. I looked over at the husky who had been watching us the whole time. "Canteen." I didn't really ask as I reached for it.

The husky had set the others down and was administering water keeping the corner of his eye on us. The australian shephard seemed to be in worst shape than the yellow lab. Biscuit had to rub his throat just to make him swallow the liquid. He'd be the first to treat...after 612 that was. The husky tossed me the canteen and I caught it and pulled back a bit to offer it to the dog.

He looked at it, before looking up at me with those hazelnut eyes. They were weak, sad eyes drained of all energy. He barely had the strength to speak let alone drink. I poured some in my hand and offered it to him. I felt that warm, thick tongue run across my palm as he lapped at the water and between my fingers. I continued as long as he needed.

"Do you prefer 612 or Maximas now?" I asked pouring some more water in my hand. He looked at me still lapping at the water. He swallowed loudly resting back a bit on his arm and coughing violently. I rubbed his back as he smacked his lips.

"Your palm tastes horrible." Even after doing my best to clean it it wasn't much of a surprise. The first thing I was going to do was wash my hands as any doctor should. I smiled weakly at the comment and he returned the favor. "How do you know about the name?" He inquired looking at me, those uncropped ears lifted up as he looked at me. One ear was only half of what it should've been as if someone had taken a literal bite out of it.

It was interesting. From what I recall of being Doug he didn't seem to recognize me. That was fine though, possible for the best. "We've met before." I said. Even though I shouldn't have. I should've avoided the subject. "I'm Doug Coldsteen." He opened his muzzle and I stuck the spout of the canteen in and slowly let it trickle out onto his tongue. "Now I'm this." He might've been on the verge of asking that very question but for the time being it was best if he didn't worry about such things.

His throat bulged as he closed his eyes drinking the water down. I rubbed his back softly as I pulled it away. It wouldn't be good to just give him all the water so quickly. He let out a long breath and moved his leg, again I found myself flinching for some reason. A low whine creeping into my throat as he did it that I coughed off.

"Finally remembered then?" It wasn't much of a question. He looked at me a bit cold before shaking his head. "About damn time." He laughed dryly, almost more of a bark than a laugh.

"Thats an understatement. I only recall some things." I spoke softly, my tail moved behind me though. I wasn't as composed as I should've been. My emotions were betraying me and I found myself confused as to why that was. Why my tail was wagging behind me or how I found this all far harder than it needed to be. "I have more memories of being Doug than I do of being Eddie." Again I wasn't sure why I was telling him this. I might've been just saying my thoughts aloud though.

A heavy paw gripped my shoulder and I looked at him. He pushed himself up a bit and I ducked under his arm helping with the weight. The smell from before lingered on us but his large, sweaty frames musky odor masked it. He even smelled the same as the Brutus from before... He slowed down as he pushed himself to a standing position. He stood...before nearly falling to the side. I caught him and he was leaning on me again.

"Thanks," he said looking around. "Whats with the husky? He's been starring at us for a while now..."

"That's Biscuit. An...associate. A friend," I quickly corrected not wanting to have him think he was the same as the other doctors. They were associates. And they tried to kill the two of us. Sounds like someone I would've worked with.

"Sup?" Biscuit said looking at him. He lifted one of the dogs up before helping the other up as well. I half expected him to wave at the rottweiler using one of the other dogs arms like a prop.

Maximas just nodded turning away. His grip tightened on my shoulder as we continued down the hallway but he was able to support himself somewhat. He was awake but his body was still weak and drained.

"There should be an emergency shower up ahead." I said looking at the layout as we left the cell area and into the medical bay. The areas had the same design all around the facility. "I don't know about you guys but I think a shower is in order." I caught the look on Biscuit face and rolled my eyes with a small laugh. "And yes we can treat the dogs as well in the area of course. I'll hook them up to IVs and let them rest. They need it more than anything else." I'd clean the wounds as well once they were washed and clean.

Thankfully the facility had been nearly evacuated. We didn't run into anyone and other then us I didn't see anyone on the monitor. We had three wounded. I wasn't looking forward to a confrontation at the moment. That'll come later. Still there was the issue about the evacuationg order and who had given it. I could see Hudson both doing it and not doing it. He wouldn't like to let so many potential test subjects get away. But in the state he was in now anything was possible.

I hoisted the yellow lab up onto the table with Biscuit's aide. Maximas was sitting in a chair, resting against the sink, watching us drolly. We had already gotten the Australian shephard onto the other table. Both were in pretty bad shape; most likely having been there longer than Maximas had. They were missing most their nails and whiskers and showed worst symptoms of dehydration. There were slight electrical burns on their fur and with a thorough inspecting other parts of the male body... I found most the wounds during the showering of the two who we had stripped down. There was no point in putting the old, tattered soiled cloths back on them. And for now I doubt they would mind.

I had washed my hands and put gloves before beginning of course. These medical bays were stocked full thankfully. While some of the others had been rummaged through this one was almost eerily untouched. Biscuit kept an eye out coming to the same conclusion as I had as I tended to the wounded and finished connecting the IVs.

"Stop fidgeting you big baby," I chided Maximas when it was his turn. It'd sting like hell but the cuts and scraps needed to be cleaned. Biscuit was working on one of the other dogs making sure he was fully cleaned up and dried. The best thing now was to clean them up. In the mean time I'd deal with this child.

"Ow!" Maximas whined pulling back again and glaring at the cotton swab soaked in solution. He growled at it and I half expected him to bite it as his lips rose. No matter the show he gave though he didn't do anything to stop me as I cleaned the burn on his chin. "Son of a bitch." He yelped wanting to pull back. To punch something but only snarled.

"Your built like a tank and your whining over this?" I rolled my eyes, shook my head and went behind him. I peeled the loose flesh on his neck and inspected the cut. There was some kind of...substance in the wound which I began cleaning. The hook had been coated in something, an I doubt it was a numbing agent. Blood was still seeping from the wound. Possible some kind of blood thinner to make sure the wound never clotted, draining the body of the precious fluids in the hot setting. Maximas didn't even seem to notice his whole back was covered in his own blood much as the other two had been.

"It still hurts," he complained folding his arms across his chest. I had dealt with children that could handle the cruel fate life had dealt them better than this dog could with a few scraps and bruises. Children that wouldn't live to see their tenth birthday. And this big baby... "Stings! It stings!" He whined folding his ears back and tipping his muzzle towards the ceiling and letting out a low howl.

"How's it going over there?" I called over to Biscuit ignoring the dog.

"This stuff isn't really coming off but they are looking better." He replied using a wet rag to scrub some of the caked gunk off their fur. He had gloves on as well, large rubber ones that came up to his elbows.

"Just make sure their wounds are cleaned. And do the best you can." I was being far more patiant than I thought I'd be in this situation. We were beginning to run behind as it was. Maybe it was being back in the lab. Treating people that made me feel so at ease now though. Or it was the dog in front of me whining like a child who had dropped their icecream cone.

"Let's switch." Biscuit said standing up and shaking himself. He had taken off the padded armor vest and arm bands. The front of his pants were soaked though and he looked kind of like a drowned rat after the showers.

I stuck my tongue out. "Fine. Let's get you in the shower then." I'd dress the wounds once Maximas was cleaned up. I ducked under his arm that he lifted for me and helped him up. He was able to walk a lot better than he had before but still leaned against me for support.

I helped him hobble over to the shower an even placed his paw on the handle bar. I took my lab coat off and hung it on the wall. I'd prob just grab another. Even if it was my lab coat...it was just a coat after all. "Ok, first things first." I muttered more to myself than him. I was staring rather shamelessly at his ass as he faced the wall. It defiantly matched the one I remembered and had to stop the urge to grope him. In a friendly locker room manner of course...

I closed the distance between us and wrapped my arms around his waist undoing his pants. He didn't say anything and I wasn't about to either. I gripped the bands and pulled them down, slowly. All the way to the ground and he lifted one foot out, then the other. I tossed the pants to the side and he turned around to face me. I was still crouched down and had turn turn away quickly being at crotch level.

I felt that flush in my face again as I grabbed the shower head and turned it on. Making sure the spray was nice and warm before dowsing his chest with it. That brown fur chest and belly clung to his frame even before the water hit it. The grime slowly peeling away like congealed grease. I scrubbed his chest...before just rubbing it. Feeling the strong pecs underneath it. It was probably a lot more tender than I had ever done in my life before. It was like the time I had washed Brutus as Doug, even if that wasn't real. It was the same. This feeling.

I caught the look he gave me and my ears folded back and I continued to work quickly moving to a different section to clean. Washing his shoulders and scrubbing them off. Across his neck and other shoulder. Down his arms and to his hand. Having him spread each finger as I washed between them. I grabbed some soap from the wall and rubbed it in, up his arm as I moved the spray down his other. Across his shoulder and chest and down his other arm, now washing the sudded arm off.

"Most the wounds are superficial." I stated rather robotically wanting to say something but unable to come up with anything else.

"I know." He only said looking down at me. Even as a dog as I was now he was taller than me. His shoulders were broader than mine. I was slim and fit. He was built like a soldier. "It isn't anything to worry about." I wasn't sure if he was talking to me about it or himself.

"Lower please." I said as I washed over his face. He kept looking at me with almost unblinking eyes as the water ran over his head, down his muzzle and along the sides. I scrubbed...and scratched his hair, behind his ears and along his cheek. Again far longer than I should just scratching and staring at his defining features. Tracing a scar with my thumb.

"I wanted to help you then, you know." He spoke up making me jump. The water sprayed him in the face and he folded his ears back.

"Sorry..." I laughed a bit lowering the spray back to his torso.

"When you were first locked away in your cell." He continued as if I didn't just spray him in the face a second ago. "There just wasn't any good time to do so and your orders said not to. You were safe there, for the time being. Safer than I could've kept you." Stupid. Why was he saying this? And why was I glad he was? "I made sure to keep an eye on you. When I heard you got out I was already heading towards you. It wasn't by chance we ran into each other."

I didn't answer or respond. Just kept washing the same spot on his stomach with my eyes down. I leaned against his chest a little bit so I wasn't just staring at his groin.

"But when we met you weren't who you were. So I kept my peace. Hoping that that dog would lead us somewhere safe. I still ws just following orders. But then we got seperated and..." His voice trailed off. He was still looking down at me with those hazelnut eyes.

A paw touched my shoulder and I wanted to shrug it off. To laugh at this whole thing. He was a trained soldier not a nurse maid. His job was to follow orders and obey. And here he was telling me he wanted to toss them out the window to come to my rescue like some gallant prince. Then again that would make me a princess... A Brutus shouldn't have been able to even think such thoughts though. They were but empty puppets following orders. Yet I found myself resting my forhead against his shoulder as the water sprayed against his thigh and leg.

The handle of the shower head nearly slipped from my finger tips as his arm hugged me and I found myself crying against that chest. "I hate this. All of this." I sobbed against that chest. It rumbled and rubbed my back. These thoughts and feeling coursing through me...in this moment I felt more like Doug than I ever had before.

"Life's a bitch." He laughed softly and I felt his chest vibrate with that voice of his. I rested my cheek agaisnt it and closed my eyes going back to my bed in the apartment I didn't have. Where me and Brutus had slept so many nights that never were. And I really did feel like Doug again with his dog.

But that moment was gone. And I was not him anymore. These lingering memories of his aren't mine. They never were. The dog in question isn't even the one before me now. It was all but a cruel summer nights dream. These fantasies would have to stop...because I wasn't that man anymore...

I pushed Maximas away and handed him the shower head turning away from him to inspect the others. "Finish up." The yellow lab had come to and Biscuit was talking with him. Good. At least we were making some progress with this waste of time.

Finding 612 was just a way to kill some time while the Brutus set up as well as get what it was I was looking for. They would be ready by the time we were finished and things would finally be getting under way. Its been too long since I' had a chance to talk to my old associate again face to face. It would also be nice to be able to begin working again. To experiment and...improve life for the masses, heh. How funny how things appear.

Dog Gone (22)

Dog Gone (22) By Roofles "At ease." I raised my hand up to the two Brutus in front of us. They saluted as we approached. They were much faster than I expected them to be. And here I was trying to rush things. I was getting far too earger to end...

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Dog Gone (20)

Dog Gone (20) By Roofles I took the wrist band from the wall and clipped it onto my arm. It gripped my wrist tightly and I felt the pressure increase before it relaxed, adjusting to my arm size and fur. The machine turned on slowly before...

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Dog Gone (19)

Dog Gone (19) By Roofles So many pairs of eyes. All a tinge of yellow in the darkness that slowly reveals itself as my own eyes adjusted to its veil. The sewer systems had the canal running through the middle with two walk ways on the sides. The...

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