Whisper the Wolf locks up the meeting place for the night. The counselor sighs, squeezing the keys in her hand.
She drives off into the darkness of the night, far away from the city and far away from anyone, save for the prying eyes of the system that’s always watching, constantly reporting.
Out in the Great Forest, she can get away from it all, and when she does, she makes it to the cabin she always stays at. Her phone buzzes, and she checks it.
It’s from Tangle.
“Sorry, can’t talk. Work is late,” she replies, unlocking the secluded camping sight door.
Inside, the furniture is sparse, and what furniture is there is torn apart. Hidden away, however, is a bed roll for traveling and emergencies stuffed up the chimney. Rolling it out, she curls up for a night that is hopefully alone.
The following day, Whisper leaves the cabin only to stop and growl. Sitting on the hood of her car is Rouge, leaning back a bit, sipping a drink from a vacuum flask.
“You know, you’re up early. Take it from a fellow night owl. That can’t be good for you.”
“What are you doing here?” Whisper asks.
“I want to help you out. You’re a hero, you know.” Rouge hops up from the car, pulling out a manilla envelope. “I’ve been following your career with great interest ever since what happened with Mimic.”
Whisper snatches the envelope and pulls out the document on it. Her eyes widen, and her body trembles.
“If I felt someone betrayed me as bad as he did, I would have probably snapped as well,” Rouge says. “Of course, no one noticed the connection between his grisly demise and their decision to return to their home planet. Or, was it actually your decision for their betterment?”
Whisper drops the envelope, grabbing her head. “Please, don’t…”
“Don’t what? Expose you for what you’ve done in the intervening years? Why would I do a thing like that? Like I said, you’re a hero. Little girls look up to you as a triumph of love conquering all. And yet, here you are, a woman so consumed by your hatred that you hide yourself from the woman you love.”
“Let me guess. Did Lanolin quit the Diamond Cutters because she learned about your other side? What would Tangle think?”
Claws slash at the bat, only to hit the car's hood as she hops onto it.
“Now, that’s going to be difficult to hide, Whisper dear,” Rouge says, leaning her cheek into her palm. “Just like how all those disappearances of violent criminals. Oh, quite the hero you turned out to be, didn’t you?”
“Stop.”
“The first were murderers… then it was abusers, and then it was dealers.”
“No!”
Whisper falls to her knees, clutching her head.
“I can help you,” Rouge says. “But you need to help me first.” She holds out a hand. “I’ve got a project that needs monsters, but I also need stars, and Tangle is just the kind of star I need.”
—
The crowd at Club Rouge cheers for the fight as Tangle sits in the locker room, all dressed back up in her casual gear. Again, she tries calling her phone. Amy steps out of the shower, frowning as she looks at the lemur. “Still hasn’t called back?”
“This whole fighting thing was her idea,” Tangle says, sighing. “The least she could have done is watched the match.
Amy grabs her purse from her locker and sits on the bench beside Tangle. “It’s probably nothing!” The Hedgehog says. “Here, the cards will tell us. Just draw one, and I’ll interpret it for you.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. If she wants to be sneaky, I’ll be too!” Tangle says, stretching. “Besides, I don’t want to be distracted by it.”
With that, Tangle bounds off, leaving Amy alone to draw the card. Her smile fades as she stares at the portent, wondering what such an ominous card would mean for Tangle or Whisper.
—
This last room is devoid of light, save for a single bulb that illuminates the black-coated surfaces of the three specialized seats. Rogue steps ahead of her companions, kicking off her shoes and pulling off her gloves, sitting into the seat, her extremities disappearing into handholds and footrests. A visor lowers over her head as she sits, her ears poking out. “Please, join me in the other seats,” the bat says to her companions. “This is the best in virtual reality technology. It’ll allow you to see and experience what’s to come in the most intimate ways.”
“More sex shit?” Clutch says, removing his hat. “This is getting old, Rouge.
“It can be used for that,” Rouge says, her investors joining her in their own seats, “But I figured to understand what is to come next, we would have to experience it ourselves. Only the most dedicated battlers would subject themselves to the treatments necessary for us to observe and feel everything they experience because their very existence is on the line.”
The three would find themselves in another dark room, this one large, with the echoes of clawed footsteps reverberating off of many walls and pillars. The familiar scent of wolf fills the room, lingering and mixing with another lupine scent.
The fighter growls, a feminine voice broken with an animalistic desire as she skulks through the chamber, nose to the ground, claws digging at the floor.
On the other side, another lupine form also steps forward, scratching his chin, his ears twitching. When the scent arrives at his nostrils, he whimpers slightly. Some of him recognizes the smell, but his baser instincts tell him it’s impossible. It’s just another female wolf, not the loving and caring Whisper.
Whisper has a moment of slight recognition that disappears when she hears it. There’s no way one of the members of her support group would be in a place like this, where monsters come to shed blood.
Rouge smirks, settling into her seat, and with nothing more than a thought, the buzzer sounds, signaling the start of the battle!