《Animals》 1- DUBLIN The sun was starting to color the roofs, the streets became more crowded with the sound of horns and the brightness bothered Hellen''s eyes. It looked like she had barely slept. She had arrived late after another shift at the pub and knew she was already late for work. Again she would have complaints about the lack of coffee on the boss''s table, but she turned over in bed and watched the light coming in through the crack in the curtain. Reluctantly, she stretched with a groan of displeasure before standing up. Her small two-room apartment was getting more and more chaotic. She even stepped over papers scribbled on the floor on his way to the bathroom. Covered her dark circles with makeup after a cold morning shower, and tied her blond hair into a braided bun as she searched a pile of brushes and more stained papers for a pair of shoes. Looked at her brother''s portrait and wished him good morning before hurriedly leaving with her bag over her shoulder. She smiled when read "Animalia" in a graffiti as she walked down the already busy street towards the newspaper. Took the cable car and in a short time she was going up the stairs and across the corridor to the coffee room. She glanced discreetly out the window of Mr. Byrne''s office and was relieved he wasn''t there. She made coffee and greeted colleagues before heading to the boss''s office and leaving the cup on the table. It was then that her eyes caught the words ¡°New disappearances of young¡­¡±, but she could barely finish reading as the deep and clearly irritated voice startled her. - Late again Miss Carrot She turned around, smiling as gently as her tiredness would allow her before answering. - Good morning Mr Byrne, your coffee is here on time as usual. - You think I don''t know you''re late? How many times will I have to threaten you with dismissal? - You know I''m an essential part of the company''s functioning - she said, smiling seductively in a joking tone - who else could get the coffee right? Byrne was a big man and of a certain age. His mustache revealed that he had once had hair as black as pitch, but now it turned a dirty gray like a few strands of gray. He sighed with displeasure and sat down before picking up his cup, drinking a good amount and turning his eyes to the girl. He liked her even though a lot of the time he lost his temper with the petulance of youth. With an impatient gesture he sent her out and began to organize the papers scattered on the table. Hellen frowned in an attempt to see the boss''s scribbles again as he ordered her, this time rather rudely, to leave. Closing the office door, she went back to the coffee room so that she could have her breakfast. The room was small like the rest of the place, it had a table with three chairs and a simple counter with few cabinets. She helped herself to steaming coffee and enjoyed the comforting scent of something warm in the morning. Hellen started to search through the cupboards for something to eat, when heard more people approaching. From the excited voices, she can see that it was Frank and Rian, the one responsible for a column on economics and the other sports critic. They walked in laughing and greeted her smiling. She returned the smile and sat down at the table with a piece of cornbread that still looked edible. - I''m telling you Frank the source is reliable, but after the last few weeks I don''t think it''s worth it. You know things are tense, it looks like a new Bloody Sunday is going to happen. - Don''t be silly, it looks like you would miss a scoop like that even if it''s not your thing. Hellen brought the cup to her lips and fixed her gaze on the two standing next to the coffee pot. She was sure they were talking about the disappearances herself was investigating. Perhaps fate was smiling at her once more in the same day. Frank caught the girl''s gaze and with a thin smile approached the table. He was tall and firm, wearing a fitted suit and a brightly colored tie. He had small eyes and thin lips that twisted in an expression of superiority. Half the women at the paper were already on his way, but Hellen found him despicable with his lame jokes and inappropriate comments. She smelled the strong scent of cologne as he leaned against the table closer to her. - Byrne looks furious with you again, little bunny, if you want I can intervene on your behalf. - Very kind Frank, but I think he''s just in a bad mood as usual. - She replied smiling kindly, taking another sip of coffee and avoiding looking at him. Frank had been trying to get close to her for days and didn''t seem to realize that the more he called her ''bunny'' the more she wanted to throw up. - Are you free today? I have tickets to that movie Ian reviewed last week. - Thanks for the invite, but tonight I''ll be covering one of the girls at Flogging Molly''s. - She replied dryly, standing up to leave the room with the cup in hand. As she made her way to the door Frank held out his arm in front of her barring the exit. She looked up at him with clear displeasure, but still in a gentle tone asked him to get out of the way, but nothing happened. - What is bunny? You never have time for a little fun. I guarantee you won''t regret it. - Why don''t you call Lana or maybe Kelly? I know they loved their last few dates with you. - without disguising her discomfort with the whole situation, she spoke in a firm tone. Again she tried to go through the door but he remained as stubborn as a mule. Tired and out of patience for his advances, she pretended to bump into him and spilled hot coffee over the bright yellow tie. His protests and curses mingled with Rian''s uncontrollable laughter who was now leaning on the counter with his hands on his belly. When Frank went out to try and save his tie from a terrible stain, Hellen breathed a sigh of relief and managed a childish smile of victory, figuring he wouldn''t have to deal with the ridicule anytime soon. - I think he didn''t expect this one - said Rian approaching with tears in his eyes. Unlike Frank, Hellen even liked Rian and didn''t understand how the two could be friends. He was slender and already beginning to bald despite being the same age as her. His suit always looked a little bigger than necessary, which made him even thinner. He had dark kind eyes and he always treated her with respect. She saw the opportunity there to get the information she needed. - You were talking about the disappearances, weren''t you? Are you going to ditch the stock market and become a detective? - She said smiling kindly. - I know what you''re thinking miss and no, I''m not going to help you with that.- he replied crossing his arms despite still smiling. - You know I would never do anything irresponsible, Rian. You know that don''t you? It''s just some good gossip you could tell me. - She joked with a shrug. The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Rian thought for a few seconds while the girl made a cute face trying to amuse him. Finally he rolled his eyes with a sigh. He knew she wouldn''t leave him alone until she heard what she wanted, and he knew this girl was as hungry for news as a wanderer in the desert. - All right, I''ll tell you as long as you promise me you won''t go there alone.- he held up her thumb in imitation of a mother trying to catch the attention of a child who is about to do a romp. - I swear by what is most sacred - she replied making an X over her chest on the left side with her index finger. - I have a source that says there will be a suspicious shipment tonight on the docks - he said softly, glancing at the open living room door as if hoping someone would soon catch them in the act. - I don''t know what will be there, maybe something related to the disappearances of the last few weeks¡­. - He leaned closer to her and his voice was heavy - Anyway, don''t go there alone tonight. They had to end the conversation because soon more people entered the room and both exchanged only serious looks. Here was her big break, the chance she''d been waiting for to get out of the newspaper office and into fame. Her instincts tinkled with the certainty that she would find the story of the year. She could imagine his name plastered on the front cover of the paper just below the kabbalistic headline. The day went on without much news, apart from the fact that for the first time Frank was without a ridiculously colored tie parading through the office. By the end of the day, the poles had already started to light the streets. She took the cable car back to the apartament and began preparations for the night. Put a change of clothes and notebook in a bag and sat on the bed soon after. She looked at the smiling boy in the photograph on top of the dresser and smiled back at him. Her chest tightened with a feeling of longing and guilt. Opened the drawer and took out a small pocketknife with the initials ''R.C'' carved into the wood in a rustic way. He ran his fingertips over the letters, feeling the groove carefully before tucking it into her boot sock and heading out of the house. Flogging Molly''s was a small but very popular pub in central Dublin. It was one of the few bars that accepted both humans and beasts, and for that reason it often suffered retaliation from both sides. Despite this, the atmosphere was always pleasant and the most popular nights were when amateur bands came to play jazz or blues, musical styles increasingly popular in Europe. Donald, the owner, a burly man with thick blond hair, serious and of few words, was cleaning glasses when Hellen appeared through the door behind the counter, still fastening her apron. - Aren''t you on your day off today? - he said surprised but without taking his eyes from the glass that so eagerly seemed to shine. - Megan asked me to cover for her today, looks like her dad isn''t doing well - she replied as she arranged the chairs and tables. - Okay¡­ I just thought you''d be tired after yesterday. I must say that your singing with the boys always attracts customers. She admitted she was tired, but singing was one of the few things that relaxed her, even if it meant losing precious hours of sleep. Soon customers began to arrive and her mind was filled with orders. When it was close to 10 pm, she saw a gray wolf enter and sit next to the bar. He was wearing a long, shabby coat, and Donald quickly poured him a glass of Jameson. Hellen approached him and sat beside him crossing her arms on the counter with a serious look. - Whiskey? What will Maria say if she catches him drinking again? The wolf turned black eyes to her and smiled in amusement, and she smiled at him before hugging him tight. She felt how warm he was and the gray fur brought a sense of comfort. They were friends since childhood. Robin, Hellen''s older brother, and Thomas were inseparable when they were young. It was thanks to him that she got to know Jazz and together they played at Flogging Molly''s when they had the opportunity. - I hear you''re going to the docks today- he said with a certain disapproving tone. The girl couldn''t hide her surprise, nor her displeasure. - And if I go? You know I know how to turn around. - Hellen¡­ - he sighed, taking his hand to his face before turning his eyes to her - You know very well that I promised your brother not to let you get into trouble¡­ - You already have yours to take care of, Thomas - she interrupted with clear irritation in her voice - I''m not a child, you know that. I won''t do anything more. I go there, I see from afar and I leave. - We know you won''t stay away... - he said with a tired look. - I promise - she started raising her right hand seriously. - Well, if that''s so¡­ - He sighed, reaching into his inside coat pocket, pulling out a package in dirty rags and passing it to her on the counter. Helen discreetly opened the package and inside was a small, shiny-barrelled, antique-looking gun. Surprised, she quickly wrapped it in the rags again and looked at Thomas curiously. He didn''t say anything, just stared at her and then finished his whiskey in one gulp. - I hope you don''t need to use this, but if you do, just aim and shoot.- She left the package on the counter and hugged him again. A long, tight hug like he hadn''t received since that rainy Sunday years ago. He then withdrew from the pub with a discreet wave. She finished her shift around midnight and after changing into more comfortable clothes and putting on her coat, she left for the harbor. Filled with confidence now that she had the cold of the gun next to her belly stuck in her pants. Upon arriving at the pier, as expected for that hour, everything was silent. She approached the entrance with the greatest care that he could even see a security cabin with a watchman inside who seemed to be dozing carelessly. Crouching and holding her breath, she passed him without a hitch. Calmly she approached the docks, watching for any suspicious movement. When was almost at the end, she noticed in the distance a ship docked. It was relatively small, barely bigger than a fisherman''s boat, and with shapes that moved in the pitch black near where it was moored. As she got closer she saw that the figures were loading the ship with crates. In the darkness her eyes couldn''t make out faces or whether the figures were human or beast. Hellen was starting to think of a way to get on the ship without attracting attention and investigate the contents of the crates when one of the porters tripped, spilling the goods onto the dock. She took advantage of the commotion and nimbly entered through an open window on the side of the vessel. When her feet hit the ground he could hear a roar, animalistic and loud as she had never heard before, followed by a lone gunshot. She sat on the cold floor covering her mouth with the shock her imagination supposed had happened. She didn''t have time to waste, she''d grab a sample of whatever was in one of those boxes and get out of there as fast as he could and call the police. The place was poorly lit and full of boxes of different sizes, some were ajar and empty, others closed with nails and, even in the low light, you can see a drawing containing an eagle with open wings painted with blue paint. She tried to pull from her memory if she recognized the symbol when something hugged her from behind and covered her mouth. Panic returned and she struggled until she realized it was Thomas. He released her and with a look of hate scolded her. - Thomas? But what¡­ - It is not obvious? Prevent you from doing something crazy, but it looks like you already did! Let''s get out of here, don''t you know who''s out there? Who does this boat belong to? - confused she didn''t answer. The wolf put his hand to his clearly annoyed face - William Simons of the Bowery Boys. Fucking William Simons Hellen. Jesus Christ! - he shouted in whispers, taking the girl by the wrist so that they went out the window when it was possible to hear the roar coming again. Thomas made Hellen back away and, clearly desperate, looked at an open crate and let her into it. She protested but obeyed him. Before closing the lid she asked what he was going to do, and he smiling just said: - Stay there and only leave when you don''t hear anything else, okay? He closed the lid and she was immersed in darkness. - when you arrive look for Hariwald Kludd. - He said leaning his face against the wood. She could hear Thomas'' footsteps coming up the stairs to the deck, and despite the muffled sound, she heard him yell: - Go to hell William! The sounds of muffled gunfire filled the girl''s chest with a terror she hadn''t felt in a long time. Huddled in the crate, she covered her mouth with her hands and even in the dark she closed her eyes tightly until silence came. The cold, terrible sound brought pain and panic. Once again gripped by fear as in the past, all she did was lie cowardly inside the box without moving. 2- STATEN ISLAND Some say that rain plays an indispensable role not only for the ecosystem but for the soul. The rain represents hope in times of drought, it is the symbol of the cleansing brought from the skies. Regardless of what society and science think about it, Stu was extremely uncomfortable inside the car as a fine drizzle outside made the night even more hazy. He stared at the drops running lazily down the glass and took a deep breath, gripped the handle of his burnt brown leather briefcase, and opened the door. - I''ll be waiting here Mr. Smith - said the driver, a goat with black fur and short horns. Stu didn''t answer him, didn''t want to be rude despite his discomfort increasing when he felt the drips on his snout. The car was parked at the entrance to the docks. He slammed the door behind him and walked over to the two figures standing by the entrance gate. The largest lit up his face as he light the cigarette, revealing his black-stained eyes and white fur before it was again hidden in the low light. - Good night, Stu - greeted the second, not much bigger than him, with a British accent. - Hello - said the fox as he approached, looking in the pockets of his overcoat for a bottle of painkillers, because his head was already starting to hurt. - As I was late, I came straight and didn''t talk to Winston, what do we have to solve here? ¨C Looks like a suspicious ship is stranded in the harbor. - Said the larger figure approaching and taking shape with the light of the nearby light pole. His name was Peter, a panda with almost two meters tall and strong in structure. He carried a baseball bat over his right shoulder. His face had some flaws in the fur, mainly near his right eye due to scars. - It''s on Nikolas Blunt''s private dock. But no movement in the last 3 days. - Some sailors found it strange and went to investigate - said with accent the smaller figure that also approached. An owl with its hands in the pocket of its tailored pants and a dark overcoat. He was known as Harry - But they called the police when they heard frightening screams. They think it¡äs haunted. Stu opened the bottle of painkillers and chewed three pills while listening to his colleagues. The bitter taste brought comfort before he even finished swallowing, his pain was getting better despite the irritation from the drizzle still being present. The three walked down the street and passed the gate without difficulty. Staten Island was neutral territory in New York, there was no reason for a lookout in the abandoned guardhouse. They followed the docks along the seafront with ships of all sizes and freighters, until they saw a large, metallic fishing boat in front of them. The silence and the poor lighting of the streetlamps gave the place a ghostly air, like something out of a Lovecraft tale. The silent craft floated on the black water. Peter approached throwing his cigarette on the floor being followed soon by Stu and Harry. A ramp connected the ship to the dock, which raised suspicion among the three investigators. There was no doubt that they would soon have company. Stu pulled out his magnum and started up the ramp. His footsteps made the wood creak. Upon reaching the deck, he assured that he was alone, sniffing the air before signaling to his colleagues to follow him. They split up and searched the entire deck, where they found nothing but some fishing nets and old rope. As Harry watched the ship''s control room, Peter and Stu approached the trapdoor that led to the lower deck of the boat. The iron door was closed, but not locked. Stu laid his chest against the icy metal and again sniffed for traces of others, to no avail. Harry soon joined them, making a gesture with his hands that indicated that there was nothing interesting. The fox knelt by the door and slowly opened it while the owl readied its weapon and Peter squeezed Lady Luck''s hilt between his fingers, but nothing jumped out to surprise them. The panda cocked its head and looked down the path, dark and silent as a tomb. They descended the stairs and entered the room dimly lit by the streetlights that shone through the tiny windows. The place was wide and empty, containing a single door at the far end. Peter and Stu approached cautiously and then stopped when the fox raised the magnum, ordering them to stand still. Stu could distinguish the scent of two people. The panda and the fox each stopped on either side of the door hoping that whoever it was would soon appear. They could hear footsteps in the distance but it didn''t seem to be approaching. Harry, standing near the stairs, hid in the shadows and with a glance at his colleagues slammed the barrel of the gun against the metal wall. The footsteps that seemed to go away stopped and soon they could hear a whisper. Peter was already raising the club above his head, ready to smash the brains out of the unfortunate who passed by when a flash lit up the room and Harry fell to the floor with the excruciating pain in his left shoulder. The fox aimed the gun through the door in the dark and fired, followed by a squeal of pain from the enemy. They could hear footsteps, they approached running and as soon as they were close enough it was time for Lady Luck to make her attack hitting the second one and making him fall to the ground. The first was still cursing as Stu pulled both of them into the light. There were two young raccoons, both wearing shabby coats. As soon as he dropped them in the middle of the room, Peter tied the unconscious with an old rope while Stu went to tend to Harry''s injuries. The owl was lucky, the shot grazed the left shoulder avoiding any vital structure. Stu gave Harry some of his painkillers as he opened the case and bandaged the wound to stop the bleeding. - Motherfucker, my arm! - cursed the raccoon lying on the ground, crouching protecting his bleeding arm. - You shot first - said Peter calmly lighting a cigarette - It was self-defense - Fuck you - the raccoon spat and then fell silent when the panda''s foot hit him in the stomach. - Who are you here for? - Asked the panda, taking a drag on his cigarette and putting the baseball bat over his shoulder again. The raccoon didn''t respond, it just spat and that was enough for Peter to step on his injured arm leading to a scream of pain. - Better talk soon partner, I don''t have all night. Stu and Harry approached, the latter was silent and looked at the young man who was squirming under the panda''s boot with pure contempt. It wasn''t the pain in his arm that irritated him, but the knowledge that his beautiful body was hurt. Would you have a scar? The idea tingled in his mind and soon he felt the blood boil in his hands. He took the gun and stuck it into the boy''s mouth. Stu and Peter recognized the gleam in the owl''s eyes. The panda backed away and took another drag on his cigarette while the fox took more pills into his mouth. The Raccoon realized he was doomed but it was too late. Blood and brain matter spattered the metal. Harry hated to admit it, but it made him feel a little better despite the searing pain in his shoulder. Stu approached the one who was unconscious and slapped him in the face until he woke up. The raccoon took a while, but it opened its confused eyes. As soon as he noticed the red face of the fox in front of him, he tried to free himself, without success. He saw the body of his colleague dead on the floor and his eyes filled with tears. - Son of a bitch, you killed my brother! - He whimpered. And that''s when the three realized they were just kids. Guilt seized Harry''s chest for a moment and he pulled away pretending to look out the window. Peter knelt beside the boy blocking his view of the deceased. - Why don''t you be smarter than your brother and tell us who you work for, boy? - He said in a gentle tone despite the serious look. The raccoon sobbed a little and with a shaky voice replied. - Bow... Bowery... for the Bowery Boys... - he stammered - I was just watching the ship, sir. - What has this abandoned ship that your boss told you to stay here? - asked the fox. - I don''t know¡­ my brother and I were responsible for watching¡­ The ship is empty, there''s nothing. - He sobbed, his nose already running. - If you''re going to let me go, you''d better kill me soon¡­ Mr. Simmons has already eaten my whole family¡­ and now without Ben I''ll be eaten too. The investigators looked at each other in some surprise. They knew who the young man was referring to. William J. Simmons, the leader of the Bowery Boys, an ultra nationalist eagle who controlled the borough of Manhattan. Like any other crime boss he was feared and respected, he had great political influence in the city, and even members of Congress were said to owe him favors. However, the history of ¡°eating¡± members of his own gang was something that even for him would cross the line of reason. Eating meat was taboo among humans and beasts alike, even more so after the war. Carnivores were frowned upon and judged by the possibility of succumbing to the desire for cannibalism. - Put him to sleep Peter and let''s walk - Harry said walking towards the door. The raccoon''s teary eyes stared at the panda in silence. Peter knocked him out and went after the other two. ***?*** Helen opened her eyes and felt her body aching. It was dark and when she tried to stretch he realized he couldn''t, he was in a tight space. Then he remembered the box and the boat. ¡°How long was it?¡± she thought. He listened to the sounds, trying to identify any noise, but the grave silence remained. Slowly he pushed back the lid and looked around. The low light allowed to see some crates on the floor. He came out of his hiding place cautiously for fear her own breathing would catch the attention of whoever was lurking in the shadows. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. The ship''s once-crowded hold was practically empty except for the box she was in and a few smaller ones scattered around. She went to one of the windows and tried to identify her whereabouts, but the darkness was thick and she could only see the pearly glow of the sea. She looked for the stairs that led to the deck and only then realized it didn''t exist. A strange feeling of doubt and anxiety took over her chest. Helen was sure there was a ladder there when he entered, but all he could identify was a door in the far wall. The girl walked over to it and opened it to reveal a long corridor of metal walls and lit by electric lights. Her mind was confused again, as she was sure the ship wasn''t big enough to have a long corridor like that. She was at the end of the narrow path that went straight to the right. Swallowed hard, trying to calm the frantic beating of his own chest. Reached down to the waistband of her pants and picked up the small, rusty gun and held it close to her body with one hand. She followed the hallway with slow steps, running her free hand over the metal wall, watching for any sign of life beyond it. She reached the next door and listened for something on the other side. It was entirely metal with a circular lever in the center. After seconds without anything raising her suspicions, decided to proceed. Helen turned the lever with some difficulty, making a loud creak. The next gallery made her hold her breath for a moment. She expected metal walls or a new dimly lit room, but what she found looked more like a hospital hallway, with white brick walls and tiled floors, wooden doors that were glazed and numbered. The girl glanced back and saw the metallic corridor of the ship before looking again at the path ahead. Her confused mind was seething with intrigue trying to understand the logic. Maybe she was on some hallucinogenic drug or it was just a dream. Pinched her own arm until the pain made her wrinkle her nose in hopes of waking up or realizing that this was real. Helen took a step forward and watched the details slowly. Before she reached the first numbered wooden door, she heard a shrill sound, coming from all sides, causing her heart to forget what it was like to pump blood. A metallic, arrhythmic noise mixed with what she might have imagined was a dark melody. Involuntarily the voice broke her lips, expressing the horror that filled her chest in a panicked scream before her instincts made her run. With each step, the lights behind her went out faster and faster as if the darkness itself were her tormentor. The path seemed endless, taking a turn to the right and when she did, she ran into a double wooden door. She pushed it and, clumsy in her race for her life, she fell to the cold floor. The terrible sound ceased the moment the girl¡äs body hit the floor. Helen slowly rose to her knees and watched where she was. It was a large and bright room, everything was extremely white and clean, there were no windows, panes of glass flashed on the walls with luminous writing in red blue. In the center of the room appeared to be an operating table was suspended from a metal arm attached to the ceiling. She approached it and could see that, unlike the rest of the room, it was smeared with stains of something dark red. Ran her fingers over the metal and smelled. Blood, the girl thought, and again her heart sped up. Still on the table were some similarly stained papers. She tried to read them but the dried blood didn''t let her extract much. There was also a small amber glass bottle next to the papers. She brought it closer to her eyes and saw that on its label she could read, despite the wear and tear of the letters, ¡°Arsenic¡± and, curious, she kept it in her pants pocket. She approached one of the walls and observed the glass that magically flashed words formed by lights. Helen had never seen glass capable of producing words. But the writing that was revealed there did not seem to be in any language she knew. She realized that there was, however, a pattern. First, symbols in blue flashed in sequence until letters written in red glowed for a few seconds. FACE Helen noticed that a door concealed amid the white walls and floors, making itself noticeable only by the round silver handle. If it hadn''t been for the doorknob, she probably wouldn''t have noticed that there was a passage there. Again she listened for any sound, but nothing came out. He turned the knob and pushed open the door. ***??*** Peter soon caught up with his colleagues and they went down a narrow hallway in single file. The walls to the left were littered with rusty, salt-weathered-looking pipes. Leading the way was Stu, who, still with his gun in his hand and his leather case clutched in his other hand, was sniffing the air as Harry tightened the bandaged wound. At the end they found a metal door with a circular lever in the center. Stu sniffed the metal but could only smell the raccoons and the fresh owl blood. He turned the lever and pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit, brick-walled gallery. It was wide enough for the three of them to walk side by side, the floor was dirty concrete, and the walls looked like they had black mold. The smell of the sea air was intoxicating. The bad lighting came from hanging lamps a few steps away from each other. As Peter walked through the door with his cigarette between his teeth, he looked at the other two in confusion. - What the hell is that? - he exclaimed looking at the metallic corridor of the ship behind him before turning his attention to the gallery. Harry approached the wall, analyzing the growing mold. Stu shook his head, covering his snout for a moment. The place smelled terrible to his sensitive nose. The panda stubbed out his cigarette on the masonry and took a few steps forward. - Perhaps we should inform the office about this - began Harry. - Clearly something is¡­ A high-pitched sound filled the gallery, interrupting his speech. It sounded like a distorted and out of tune melody with metallic beats that caused an immediate discomfort to the three investigators. Not just from the fright, but something about that sound sent their minds into deep, primal terror. The melody only lasted a few seconds, and once again, given over to silence, Stu opened the bottle of painkillers and chewed a handful of them. Peter took out a new cigarette and had difficulty lighting it due to the uncontrollable shaking of his hands as he handled the lighter. Harry felt a wave of searing pain in his arm and squeezed it tightly, feeling the cold sweat trickle down his beak. A scream echoed in the distance in the gallery. - As much as I want to get out of this place - began the fox breaking the silence as he straightened his suitcase. - We still have to figure out what the fuck this is. - Let''s settle this soon - said the panda with smoke coming out of his nostrils. They went on in silence. They walked for a few minutes until they finally came to a large, old-looking metal door with damp-eaten hinges. At first it felt stuck and Stu had to force it open. The next space was wider than the previous one. The heavy musty smell was gone and the walls were now weathered with paint. It was a room with several cells with metal bars, one next to the other that in a row formed a long corridor, the ceiling high and the lighting precarious. They observed the first cubicles, which, like what the place itself looked like, had been abandoned for a long time. The cells contained a concrete dais along one of the walls and a sink. The investigators split up to search the place until Stu broke the silence by returning to the hallway, clearly annoyed. - There were humans here - He said with the hairs on the back of his neck standing up and went to the next cubicle - Humans and animals, together in cells?! - he foamed. - Humans? Are you sure that old nose of yours isn''t messed up? - Asked Peter in disbelief - There are no humans on this continent for years. - Do you think I''d forget the shit smell these cretins have?! - The fox swayed, putting his hand to his head, which was hurting again. -Take a look at this.- He called out to Harry in one of the cells and the other two went to him. On the wall, painted with what appeared to be dark, old paint was written Sometimes it''s torture, the sound is torture, it seems we don''t speak the same language Stu walked over and ran his finger against the ink and sniffed it, it was human blood. In some of the prisons there were other similar writings, some with human blood and others written with animal blood. They also found cutlery, metal plates and torn clothes. At the end of the hall again was a metal door, and above it was written in letters drawn in a dark, faded dye: I never knew much about people until I took one apart to see how it worked It is undeniable to say that the sentence itself was already somewhat disturbing, and the three looked at each other with clear annoyance. The war seemed distant, but still very much alive within each one. Even those who didn''t go to the trenches heard stories and, even though they were largely regarded as legends, knew that much of what was reported could be real. It wasn''t just the night raids, famine, bloodshed and gunpowder curtains that filled the history books. Accounts of cannibalism, experiments, and the occult brought a certain air of terror and mysticism to the conflict. Peter stepped forward and gripped the handle firmly. He was already tired of the whole place, his cigarettes were at an end and after his last job the night before, he wanted a shower and sleep. He turned the knob and pulled the door open. *** ??*** She was no more than five feet tall, with long, oval ears, and her fur grimy and unkempt. The red eyes stared at the panda, initially with the same surprised expression as he did, but soon took on a glint of panic and horror. The tattered rabbit let go of the door handle and shivered back into the room. The red-furred fox appeared just behind the bear. - Stay there! - She shouted, staring at the panda and as soon as she saw the fox she took out the gun. The subtle click made Peter raise his hands, demonstrating that he did not pose any danger. The girl was clearly upset. She had wounds on her arms and legs, her clothes were torn and she looked sick. The room smelled of excrement and blood. It was a small room, with a metal chair in the center, close to where the girl was standing, with chains and bindings. - Calm down there bunny, we didn''t come to hurt you - said Peter entering the room slowly. She was shaking from head to toe and being in that place he couldn''t help but feel sorry for her. - You''ll end up hurting someone like that. - I told you to stop! - She said through gritted teeth. The gun felt heavy in her hands and she was tired. Hearing the word ¡°bunny¡± irritated her deeply. - Let me through. Harry, standing in the doorway, watched silently, lowered his hand from the wound and, like Peter, tried to approach her slowly. She backed up again and bumped into the chair, which made her realize where she was. It was no longer the white room with the blinking glass, it was a dirty, fetid place with stone walls and no windows. The girl looked at the chair behind, smeared with blood and urine, with heavy shackles. Her confused mind tried to look for a logical explanation for it all. She felt pain and despair take over his chest, wished she were home and wanted to wake up from this nightmare. - My name is Harry, we are investigators - began the owl in a gentle and low tone, interrupting the chaos of thoughts and making her look again at the three - we heard a scream earlier, was it you? She felt tired, the gun seemed to weigh even more between her fingers. She nodded and the gun lowered slightly. She felt her eyes fill with tears, making her vision difficult for a moment. - I just want to go home - she said, sitting down in the chair. 3 - PAST To understand a culture, it is not enough to just analyze a clipping. Of course, diagnosing an entire population based on a portion of its people or its history would be a fallacy, but it can be said that New York City would serve as a curious specimen of study for anyone interested. When the Great War ended, it was believed that the utopia created in the United States would be an example for the world. A model country where the superiority of beasts over humans would be proven. Since the end of the armed conflict, American borders were closed to any human and those who lived there were expelled as part of the ceasefire. New York City was booming with the influx of immigrants looking for a fresh start, which has caused its population to triple in recent years. A country tainted by the greatest military conflict that has ever occurred in world history, it still rose with the untreated wounds of the past, exposed to the new inevitable trials of a post-war period. As expected, neighborhoods and ghettos, mostly separated by immigrant cultures, gave the city new colors and leadership, as well as new forms of violence and lawlessness. The current mayor, an ape named C¨¦sar Walker, was in trouble with crime. With the support of the general government, it approved tough measures to combat crime, drug and alcohol trafficking. Yet corruption in a new state like the one that ruled all of North America only saw restrictions as a means to increase its profits and influence. Gangs ruled the neighborhoods, put fear and what we might call "order" into chaos in the new world. Conflicts and deaths were constant in the headlines, present even in the Manhattan neighborhood, where the American elite had its nest. In the heart of the city, considered the ground zero of the new hope of a whole species, is the University of Columbia, renowned even before the armed conflict as one of the poles of knowledge and scientific training. It has no gates or walls, the academic blocks seem to blend in with commercial buildings and the financial core. In the center, a large garden surrounded a tall, long black stone memorial, like a large blackboard. Engraved on its smooth surface were the names of soldiers who lost their lives in the conflict. Even after years of the ceasefire, people pay their respects to relatives, with flowers and notes left next to the representation of a longing. The sun was already high in the sky when the drizzle started to improve. Peter crossed the garden, stopped in front of the monolith and lit a cigarette. He felt the toxic smoke fill his lungs, then the sensation of pleasure was present and released through his nostrils with white smoke. He watched a group of students crossing the garden and could not contain the feeling of nostalgia and anguish. He walked to the entrance of one of the academic blocks, up the stairs and past the open door along with a few students no older than him. He knew those corridors full of history and the smell of old wood was delicious for the memory. Professor Kludd was on his feet erasing the blackboard when Peter entered the room. The owl didn''t seem to notice the panda''s presence, which remained standing near the door without greeting it. - Free for a coffee professor? Harry turned to the door and faced the young panda who was watching him with a smile and arms crossed. He dropped the eraser on the table and turning his attention to a pile of books as he replied. - Did you remember to bring the sugar this time? With a nonchalant gesture, Peter opened his coat to reveal a small metallic bottle tucked into an inside pocket. The owl smiled at the glint of metal and left the room. They walked through the hallway side by side in silence. They descended the stairs towards the basement of the building where the chemistry laboratories were. The place was cold and silent, few students were seen inside the rooms. One of the frosted-glass doors read in gold letters "Hariwald Kludd - Department of Psychology." The owl unlocked the door revealing a small, windowless room with two armchairs facing each other and a small coffee table. One of the walls was made up of a long bookcase, filled with books. The room smelled of something citrus that Peter found oddly comforting. With the door closed again, Hariwald sat in one of the armchairs while Peter studied the bookcase. - Can I borrow this one? - said the panda, looking at a dusty copy with curiosity. - I don''t think you came here to borrow books, but you know you can. - The owl watched him carefully, crossing his legs and resting his face in one of his hands. Peter returned the book to the shelf and sat in the other armchair. He took the bottle out of his coat and took a sip before passing it to the professor, who accepted it but didn''t drink it promptly. He looked at the young man with some affection. They were friends, and Hariwald knew how difficult it was for him to return to university, probably something important happened. - She woke up - whispered the bear, even though they were both in a safe place, he seemed cautious. The owl lifted the bottle to its mouth and took a long drink. It had been nearly two weeks since the Staten Island incident and still there was no logical explanation for what they saw on the boat. Investigations were made after the rabbit was rescued, but no one found anything unusual. As a man of science, he could only think he was under the influence of some hallucinogen. The survivor himself reported nothing unusual in his interrogation of the boat. Hariwald handed the bottle back and placed a hand on his injured shoulder before facing his friend again. *** *** The green grass that emerged with the onset of spring moved gently in the breeze, giving the lawn along Dublin Pond the feel of a vast sea of green. As a tradition at the turn of the season, families took advantage of the first warm day of the year for a picnic. The lake was full of young people who challenged each other in who would have the courage to take the first dip in the still icy waters. Perhaps this was one of the few moments in the city when beasts and humans shared the same space in the sun in harmony. Laughter and the scent of green filled the air with a vibrant sense of hope. Helen, sitting by the pier, watched as a boy older than her emerged from the cold water in his bathing suit and swimming goggles. His wet blond hair glistened in the sunlight and soon he threw himself exhausted on the grass beside her. He was still panting without taking off his goggles, but then he smiled when she avoided his wet hand that tried to touch her. -Get out Robin! I don''t want to get wet - she protested as she turned away from the affection. He grinned even wider and sat down removing his glasses. His brown eyes watched her tenderly and before she could react he enveloped her in a soggy hug. The girl grunted in protest. He let go of her with a laugh and rolled on the grass trying to fend off the young girl''s punches. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. - Okay, okay I''m sorry, that''s enough Helen! - He laughed standing up and looking satisfied. - Poor Robie, why don''t you mess with someone your own size? - said an approaching voice. It was a young gray wolf, also dressed in his bathing suit, his fur dripping onto the grass. - Is it? So are you looking for a fight? - replied the boy with a grimace. Both faced each other and raised their fists as if they were boxers, when the wolf began to swing its body and raise its fur, splashing water everywhere. Hellen screamed madly and jumped to her feet, her blue dress soaking wet and her hair disheveled, staring at her two friends who were laughing and running towards the pier. The three of them fired at the wooden planks over the lake, and when the boys reached the end, they jumped together. The girl arrived soon after and looked around for them in the black water. She crouched down and stared at the shivering surface, as dark and dense as an abyss. Silence screamed in her ears and she became aware of the reflection staring back at her. Big red eyes in the midst of darkness. She felt a searing pain in the back of his neck. Helen opened her eyes in fear and stared at the white ceiling. She could hear the sound of the rain mixed with his panting breath. For a few seconds she was motionless listening only to the sound of the rain. Still lying down, realized that the place resembled an infirmary. It was a small room, to the left was a window with the curtain open to reveal the light rain. A small table and a glass cabinet were at the far end and a dark wooden door was closed. She sat up in bed and looked at her own body. She was wearing a light green nightgown and when she looked at her hands she was confused. They were covered in soft white fur, as were her arms. She ran her fingers uncomprehendingly, thinking it might be part of her nightgown. She pulled back the sheets and looked down at her legs, covered in fine white hair. Confused, she slowly got out of bed. She felt her bare feet against the cold floor and walked to the window. When she got close enough she saw that the reflection had the same red eyes as her dream. She brought her hands to her face and realized that the reflection of the white haired rabbit staring at her was herself. Panic mounted and she felt sick. Her desperation was such that she didn''t notice when a light brown fur goat wearing a green plaid shirt entered, watching her as he held a clipboard in one hand and slowly closed the door. With the sound the rabbit seems to have realized that she had company and turned her frightened gaze to him. She didn''t feel like screaming or running away like before, she just stood still. The goat approached slowly and calmly touched her shoulder carefully guiding her to sit on the bed. She offered no resistance and obeyed. He sat beside her and in a soft voice asked her name. - Hellen Carrot - she replied looking at her hands moving her trembling fingers. - Do you remember what happened, Miss Carrot? - What place is this? - She asked still not looking at him. - In my ward at the organization where I work in New York. I''m Dr William, responsible for the medical sector. - New York? You mean in America? But¡­ I can''t go in here¡­ I''m human. - Said the girl looking at him with red eyes scared. - I know you''re confused but... - Doctor, I''m serious¡­ I''m human! What happened with me? I¡­ Am I a beast now? - Why don''t we talk about it later? You must be hungry. I''ll bring you something to eat, for now, stay here okay? - said the goat gently with a light pat on the shoulder of the girl before withdrawing again. *** *** Stu''s hands were shaking, but it wasn''t from the cold water from the surgical sink. He was tired and he knew what he needed. Another sleepless night, but this time because of work and not because of memories he would give anything to forget. He crossed the hospital corridors that were losing the lull of dawn and now, with the change of shifts, they were filled with sounds and colors. He went into his office, put on his coat, and felt the tremors get worse. Annoyed, he barely bothered to check that he was alone when he opened a small metal vial that he took out of his briefcase. As soon as he raised it to his lips, he heard a knock on the door. He could see through the discreet crack that opened that it was David, a spotted dog with a tired look. - Sorry for interrupting Dr Wild, I know you''re leaving, but about that last patient, sir... - he started before being interrupted by the fox clearly out of patience. - I''ve already got everything ready David, and if you have any questions ask the next person who''s going to take over the day.- He took a sip from the bottle, not caring about the act. The dog cowered in the doorway and left without continuing. Stu put the bottle down and for a moment felt bad for the boy. He was a good intern, as much as he pissed him off, he still knew he was a good doctor. He thought about going after him and apologizing, but exhaustion got the better of him. He left the hospital without greeting the other employees who wished him good morning and went down the street. He crossed the Santa Barbara Church square and glanced briefly at the entrance. How long has it been since you went to confession? He would have a lot to tell Father Nutts the next time he visited, even if he didn''t always tell the whole truth. He was grateful that the morning was cloudy, but still without a drop. The thought of the cold rain had already made him begin to feel a discomfort in his temples. He rummaged through the burnt leather case again without stopping in his tracks. He chewed three painkillers and it seemed the bitter taste on his tongue made him feel a little more willing, he could already see the red brick house a few feet away. He walked through the faded gate and across the garden, whose grass was already more than a foot high. As he was looking for his keys, the front door of the house opened and something start to wrap around his legs. A red-furred fox, he couldn''t have been more than 5 years old, looked at him smiling, wagging his fluffy tail from side to side. He smiled back and ran his hand between the boy''s big ears. - Good morning daddy! - shouted the child before releasing him and running back inside the house. Still unresponsive, Stu stood in the doorway for a few seconds. The scent of fresh coffee filled his nostrils as a tightness in his chest grew. He closed the door behind him and as he looked into the kitchen he saw a very familiar silhouette. She wore brown pants and a navy blue sweater, her hair was short and as red as her fur. - Good morning Catherine - said the fox softly, his heart seemed to freeze as she twitched her ears to hear him. She dried her hands before turning back to her ex-husband unsmiling. Her dark eyes stared at him with an expression of discomfort. It felt like a hallucination, for months they hadn''t sat at the table together. A dream that brought a nightmare feeling. Stu was as anxious as he wasn''t in a lot of times, completely forgetting about his tiredness. He approached the table and poured a mug of coffee. The silence between them was deafening. Her perfume filled the kitchen and it made him more bewildered. - Nick said he had forgotten one of the books here - she began, looking away and returning her attention to the sink - This place is a mess and I had to clean it up or I wouldn''t have peace... - I''m glad you came, it was a nice surprise - We''re leaving, come Nick - she called, taking her bag from the kitchen counter and running her hand over the child''s head. - Aren''t we going to have breakfast with Daddy? - Asked the little one, still doodling the paper with a pencil. - Next week you can have breakfast with Daddy¡­ now you have to go to school - Catherine said affectionately kneeling beside the table as she took the pencil from his fingers. The child wrinkled his nose without looking at his mother. She walked towards the entrance and Stu, still in the kitchen, hugged him tickling the boy who soon started laughing, before escorting them to the door. The weight in his chest only increased as he watched them disappear in the distance. The house felt dark and cold like never before. He went back to the kitchen and picked up the torn piece of newspaper on the table. Between advertisements for canned soup and the result of the last game, there was a doodle of a fox holding a bag in one hand with a sad expression. He took a sip of the hot, bitter coffee, feeling guilt fill his chest as he placed the drawing on the fridge with a magnet. The doorbell rang and he felt his heart race. He dropped the mug in the sink and with hurried steps ran to see who it was in the hope that his old family had forgotten something. As he opened the door, a black-haired, strong-built goat wearing a suit stared blankly at him.