Monstrous Tendencies [Finished]

[Travesty]

Ambrose leaned against the mildew-stained brick wall directly outside the opening to what appeared to be a disgusting alley undoubtedly filled to the brim with the degenerates of society. I probably look like I fit right in with this crowd, the ferret thought to himself and smiled grimly. He was dirty, his back legs splayed out unnaturally – a remnant of an experiment gone awry, involving an overdose of muscle dissolver, and did he mention the needles?

Oh yes: there were at least four in his body at all times, although honestly he often found it hard to keep track of them, they were constantly falling off or attaching themselves. Hell, he sometimes couldn’t even remember what was in them, except that at least one contained his beloved morphine-saline solution. That way, when the others either ate away or increased his muscle mass he couldn’t feel a thing. Everything just went numb.

If only his brain could react the same way and stay paralyzed. Then he never would’ve thought of this idea – this terrible, wonderful idea – and no one would get hurt. Alas, he was always thinking, and now Ambrose couldn’t help it; he was going to destroy someone. And why? Was it to fuel his hidden lust for violence?

No, he swore silently to himself. That wasn’t it at all! It was all for science, for the betterment of mankind and nothing more. He wanted to create a vaccine against lactic acid build up in the muscular system…which sounded pretty silly when he thought about it but actually could prevent a multitude of problems from back aches to paralyzation. Theoretically it could also improve the condition of the heart, which was really nothing more than a large muscle, preventing heart murmurs or even heart attacks.

Of course, he needed to find out the exact relationship between lactic acid production and particular fibers of muscles in order to create this miracle drug. This was proving to be quite a conundrum, as he usually experimented on himself but for once his body wasn’t a viable option. Messing around with muscle mass was all well and good, but even Ambrose wasn’t about to pump so much acid in his muscular system his body could very well dissolve.

So here he was, sitting outside this dark alleyway he’d have to saunter down if he ever wanted to get the ball rolling. The rumors he had heard – that Aces were abandoned here by their ashamed parents – were true; he had in fact run into at least three by now, but it hadn’t felt right to take them. They had been smiling, how could take something that was at least in some way, happy? But there was no more time to dance around it: tonight he was going to kidnap someone.

[The Jenn]

Ace skittered through the alleys of the Outer Bazaar, stopping for minutes at a time before he moved quickly to the next hiding spot. His wide eyes flicked around in agitation, trying to catch sight of the numerous people he knew were out to get him, the nasty things that hunted and stole food he'd already stolen and tried to kill him. Lots of things, all around, all out for him, and so he had to be careful. Always.

He moved to the next spot, small mustelid claws ticking along the ground as he scrabbled over a makeshift wooden barricade in one of the alleys. Such things were good enough for keeping banders from getting through, but nothing for a fully grown weasel. His teeth gnashed together for a moment as he surveyed the area, making a quiet, grating noise. Then he moved again, going for the next spot.

Twilight provided the perfect cover to get food, whether from a dumpster or an absent-minded vendor, when they were thinking about packing things up for the night and tossing any hard or spoiled food that they couldn't otherwise use. Prime pickings.

[Travesty]

Feeling an intoxicating mix of self-revulsion and motivation, the ferret scrambled to his feet, mindful of the needles hanging of his limbs. He’d find someone tonight, he’d go through with his endeavor, and that would be the end of it. Ambrose would do everything perfect so there’d never be a second time, because of course he’d never, ever want to do something so terrible more than once, right?

“Right,” he muttered, as if to reassure himself of his good intentions. The alleyway was shadowed and undoubtedly filled with those up to no good, but he wasn’t worried; why would he be, when in his paws he had three different injections. The clear one was a paralyzer, the yellow-green one a tranquilizer, and the milky-white one was lethal. He would really prefer it if he didn’t need to use that last one – his little test subject wouldn’t be all that helpful dead.

…Speaking of test subjects: Ambrose’s lilac eyes spotted an Ace up ahead that appeared, at least so far, to qualify. He didn’t look remotely happy, in fact he looked downright unbalanced.

I’ll be doing him a favor, the ferret reasoned, his paws wrapping around the tools of his trade. He'd knock the poor thing out quickly, so there'd be no suffering at all.

[The Jenn]

Ace twitched as he stood otherwise still in the alley, mostly hidden behind a pile of refuse as he stared at the street about a dozen feet ahead of him. There was still the occasional foot traffic, which made him leery, but his stomach roiled with hunger and he knew he needed to get some food soon or he would get weaker. Being weaker made him prey. Being prey meant that he would be caught. Being caught... well. He would die, and that was that. He'd sooner die trying to get food than being caught by them.

Whoever they were.

Movement not far away startled him badly and he twisted almost the entire way around. He'd forgotten that this part of the alley had two back-entrances from two entirely different alleys connected to different streets! Someone! His huge, dark eyes stared, trying to pick them out, and the second he saw an outline, he sprinted in the opposite direction.

[Travesty]

The ferret, with his belly low to the ground, crawled with a hunter’s precision closer to his prey. He ducked for cover behind a rusty trashcan, watching the Ace scurry here and there. Up close it was obvious it was a nervous fellow, with wide eyes and a twitchy demeanor. He stood out against the dark, what with his brilliant, neon blue markings; Ambrose didn’t have to worry about losing him.

Which was a perfect really, as just when the ferret was about to strike the weasel turned tail, running as if Ambrose was the devil himself. Ah, fuck. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen; the ferret didn’t very often have to run in order to get what he wanted, his legs were too stubby for that. Luckily, being a Spade gave him the gift of speed he wouldn’t otherwise possess.

In an instant he was after the Ace, moving quicker than he could have imagined possible. After getting traction on the slippery cobblestones he was sprinting, barreling towards his prize like a missile, the needles held protectively in his mouth. They were so close Ambrose sensed he could hear the weasel’s heartbeat pulsing in his veins. He made a move to grab the Ace by the ankles and drag him down, while at the same time retaining his speed.

[The Jenn]

Horrible thing! It was fast! He panted and darted in between piles of garbage, weaving through small piles in the alley like a crazed drunkard as he tried to reach the street. There wasn't time, though, because it was fast!

It claws at his ankles, yanking him around because of their momentum and he went under it, thrashing and kicking and biting and trying to get away get away getawaygetawaygetaway! It had him! It was going to eat him! He was going to die! With everything in him, he writhed and twisted and spasmed.

At the same time, because the other Card had retained his speed, they rolled at high velocity and almost careened into a wall. One of Ace's forelegs crunched ominously into the brick surface as he bounced unpleasantly, still turning himself into a writhing mass of panic. "NO! No! No, bad, die! DIE! Run!" He screamed his distress and pain in a high-pitched, crazed voice.

[Travesty]

Ambrose had a split second to reconsider his pace and their combined momentum before the little weasel collapsed in a fit of seizures, his body twisting this way and that. The ferret didn’t have time to stop, only attempt to drag his paws into the ground, before the both of them were thrown against the wall. He heard the sound of snapping bone and felt his own right back paw twist unnaturally.

Seeing stars and hearing a slight ringing in his ears, it took the screams of the Ace to bring him back to the situation at hand. He sprung to his feet, grimacing as little shocks of pain reverberated through his paw; hopefully it was just badly sprained, and not broken. He wrestled with the Ace, using his forepaws to keep the weasel down. The Ace continued to wail and claw at him; lacerations were beginning to form on his chest.

He had to shut him up and get him still. Ambrose removed one of his paws for an instant to grab the yellow-green injection, trying to hit the thrashing creature in the neck.

[The Jenn]

Ace was an overly experienced thrasher and Ambrose was an extremely experienced jabber - both of them had an advantage in the situation, and both were at an extreme disadvantage. The pain lancing through his forepaw was enough to make spittle froth at the corners of his mouth as he continued to babble a few random words and one or two expletives that he didn't know the meaning of, only that people sometimes used them in times of strong emotion.

Well, he was feeling it! He could have gotten away ten times over if it hadn't been for the body holding him down. He could feel blood underneath his claws and in his mouth, though he couldn't tell if that last one was his or his attacker's.

He felt something slam into his neck and screamed again, the sound akin to someone having their intestines removed forcibly with a hot poker. All of his worst fears and nightmares!

[Travesty]

Ambrose felt a claw drag across his belly and he rose desperately away from it, an angry howl emerging from his lips. In retribution, he slammed his knee hard into the weasel’s midsection, just below his ribs. He hadn’t expected it to be quite this difficult; after all, the vile thing was an Ace. But they were both Mustelids, with only slight differences in builds – next time he’d have to be more prepared.

There wasn’t going to be a next time, remember? This was a one-time thing to gain knowledge.

It bothered him that he had to remind himself of that. Scared by his thoughts, Ambrose jabbed the Ace three consecutive times, and crueler than was probably necessary.

“It’ll just take a moment to take effect, so if you could just quite struggling,” he growled. “It’s not going to kill you.” In a few seconds the weasel would be only half-awake, allowing the ferret to drag him back to his lab that was, thankfully, not too far away. Now that he was bleeding and broken a long walk would be out of the question.

[The Jenn]

Ace felt something slam into the squishy part of his stomach and something else inside squished the wrong way, making him gurgle for a second while he thrashed. Anything and everything he could do to escape, he was trying, including bodily injury to his captor. Unfortunately, the position in which he'd been pinned heavily restricted his movement and put pressure on his broken foreleg, which sent stars and spots reeling through his vision.

Between a combination of the drug and the pain, the Ace felt bile rise up into his throat and he vomited, heaving and twitching beneath his captor as the world started to get wobbly. He didn't understand anything besides the fact that he'd been right, he's always been right, that they were out to get him. And now they had. And they were going to kill him. His gasps turned into keens, which quieted into whimpers as he fell into the lesser half of consciousness, eyes unfocused and head lolling to the side in the vomit. What a nasty mess.