Burned to Ash

By: Fathom Valkea

***

​	“Come on… c-come on, just a little more! Oh, please, dammit, just a little more…!”

​	So pleaded the gray, quivering wolf in tired, labored breaths. He worked with the fury of a madman, yet hardly with the nonsensicality of one; his eyes, long since adjusted to the dreadful darkness of the small, wooden storage room he found himself in, focused fully on the back left corner of the floor, and into the beginnings of the tiny hole he’d just managed to carve out. Many gallons of tropical rainwater had long since damaged the ceiling of the storage; the temporal leaking causing the wood above and below, over time, to warp and to weaken, and even more so due to his efforts. The hole wasn’t much, admittedly… it wasn’t clean, it wasn’t smooth… but it was something. And he swore he could see all the way down it: and into the hope that it promised…

For a moment, he took a breath, relieved at the thought… but as he moved his arms to wipe the sweat off his brow, he found them arrested - a jingling of chains resonating forthwith. A whimper escaped him, as he followed, with disdain, the chain’s length, from his wrists to the wall, stapled and in excellent condition. He shook his head, a tear rolling down his cheek as he turned back to the crevice, scraping and chipping away with his metal cuffs of his enjoined paws…

Anything, he thought. Anything and everything… if only to escape him…

“A-Any minute now…” he muttered, working shakily. “A-Any minute now… a-and I’ll have my route. I-I should’ve never come to this damn island… t-trusted that crazy folf! Wh-Why is he so obsessed with me?! Wh-Why…?” Another whimper escaped him, before he shook his head, gazing back at the crevice with his lips quivering. “N-No. I can’t think like that. Just… just a little bit more. Th-Then when he comes back from his… h-hunt… a-and loosens me… I’ll m-make my escape! I’ll go through the back door in the basement, find the police, and… a-and then that goddamn fox-wolf will get sent off to prison where he belongs!”

It was a thought the wolf particularly delighted himself in, considering his current living arrangements. How nice, it would be, to inflict such pain unto him for a change. How nice it would be… to see him in chains. But in truth, even that pain wouldn’t equal a fraction of the pain the folf had inflicted upon him…

The pain he had inflicted… upon so many others…

Ash couldn’t know exactly how long he had been away from home. Months, he presumed, and indeed it very well could have been. Despite his many restrictions, even still he could sense the changing of the seasons: the late fall and early winter contrasting so greatly from the mid-summer, when he’d first arrived…

It had seemed like such an exciting idea at the time. Who wouldn’t want to spend their holiday on a tropical island, after all? It was a paradise on earth, Valkoi’in, one to which no other island south of the equator could possibly compare. How nice it would be to soak in the rays, enjoy the seafood, hit the beach and dive in the deep blue. He’d worked hard, he knew he deserved it. And all the conditions had been ideal for him to embark. Really, the only thing that had been a cause for concern had been that of the mysterious… disappearances on the island as of late…

To be fair, it hadn’t been totally his fault he’d managed to overlook it. A brochure’s goal, after all, is to incite and to inspire - not to warn against. And, being so far away from the place, it wasn’t like his small suburban town back home had reported on it regularly. Indeed, it was only after he’d already booked the vacation that further research was undergone, and discoveries made too late. Natives, foreigners, young, old, mammal, reptile, female or male. It didn’t matter. No species nor gender was pardoned, and none left even a trace. Add to that the strange nature of the island itself, purported to be imbued with mysterious water and fire magic of a long-forgotten tribe, and concern, understandably, was soon expressed among his loved ones. His friends, his family, his parents…

Alas, the airline would not accept a refund, nor the hotel itself. He, as he reasoned, hadn’t had much of a choice:

“It’s okay! I’ll be safe, you know I will!”

“How could I not go to a place as beautiful as this?!”

“What else am I gonna do, just sit at home? I gotta live a little, you know that!”

“I promise I’ll not trust anyone suspicious!”

It made him sob to think about it…

For what it was worth, the first four days had indeed gone remarkably well. He’d been as diligent and careful as possible, and had been rewarded handsomely for it. Succulent seafood was consumed, sunrays were absorbed, massages were enjoyed. All had gone well! And on the final day, as he swam blissfully in the ocean, belly-side up, he couldn’t help but smile, thinking himself silly for having ever considered cancelling his trip at all!

But then… that was when he’d heard it. A voice, amongst the ripples. A voice, so smooth and so clear, curious like a child, yet demanding like an adult. And imbued, all - with an irresistible charm. A voice that would haunt him for the rest of his days. The voice of his captor, the voice of his master. The voice of the monster who had reduced him to such a pitiful state…

The voice… of Fathom Valke–

*Click!*

*SLAM!!*

“Helllloooooo~!!”

​	A heart palpitation.

Instantly, the wolf’s labors ceased. His blood froze solid, a shiver running down his spine. For a moment, it looked as if the wolf wasn’t alive at all, as if he were a statue sculpted by some grand artist. Slowly, however, everything returned to him - and doubly as intense. His breaths became wheezy, his eyes watery, his lips quivery. His strength… all but gone…

Fathom… was back from his hunt…

“No… Nonononono…” he whimpered, physically unable to stop himself from shaking. “Th-There’s no way… he’s back already?! Th-That can’t be… th-that can’t–!!”

“Oh Aaaaaaash~!” the voice sing-songed, footsteps rapidly approaching the wolf’s position. “I hope you’re all rested up, my delicious little friend~”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit!! What to do… w-what to do?! There was no way the hole was big enough yet, he… he’d have to cover it! B-But… goddammit, he’d kicked the box too far out of reach! H-How was he to–?!

“Because you and I, my friend…” the voice whispered, nuanced by a very, very wet lick over the lips. “We are gonna have some fun tonight~”

Panicked and with no other options, the wolf was forced to use himself to cover the hole, sitting over it as innocently as he could manage. It wasn’t clean, it wasn’t smooth… but it was all he could do…

From there, every second that passed felt like complete agony to the poor lupine. At length, however, a sorrowful sort of finality was offered, as the lights of the hallway, visible through the gap between the door and the floor, flickered on, and only seconds later, two dark, imposing shadows appeared. The folf’s boots. Soon after, a loud click was heard, and at last the dark, bleak storage room was bathed in the hallway’s warm, incandescent glow. And in the middle of it all… stood the figure himself…

Despite how many times Ash had had the unfortunate honor of laying his eyes upon the folf, he somehow found himself terrified, awestruck, and, though he loathed to confess it… enamored, every single time. He was admittedly a rather handsome beast, with a dark blue coat and a grey-ish white middle, but what really set him apart was the fiery orange emblazoned throughout. His forearms, forelegs, tip of his slowly wagging tail, and his long flowing hair was practically shining with the brilliant hue. He seemed to radiate this powerful, mystical sort of energy, one which begged to be harnessed and understood. It only took a sinister twinkle of those orange eyes and a slow, sultry slurp of that orange, magmatic tongue to remind him, as always, the true venom that lay beneath such understanding…

The folf sighed, a hearty, heavy sigh, Fathom’s warm breath steaming into the storage’s cold confines. He rested one of his elbows on the door’s frame, leaning against it as he glared, imposingly, over his helpless, adorable little captive. His tasty, adorable little wolf…

His…

“Hello, little one~”

The words were simple and clear. Concise with no room for argumentation - only reciprocation. And the wolf, with shaky terrified breaths, was forced to oblige.

“H-Hello… s-s-sir…”

Like music to the folf’s ears. It was a greeting Fathom had instilled well into poor Ash by now. It was important to establish hierarchy: the folf being on top, and the wolf, unquestionably, being on the bottom. Language was the first step in this endeavor. Paired with action, submission would naturally follow, and from there he could get the poor, cute little guy to do pretty much anything he wanted. It had been difficult to get the wolf to call him as such at first, the hybrid remembered. But, as the folf huffed a hot puff of fire from his mouth… he also remembered, fondly, that it didn’t take much convincing to get him to change his mind…

​	“Hope you’re doing well, runt,” Fathom murmured. Suddenly, the folf lifted his free paw. Ash’s eyes followed, and Fathom snickered darkly as he watched those innocent, shining golden eyes widen with horror, as he observed what lay within his grasp…

​	“Managed to get quite the haul this time around,” the folf mused playfully, twirling about the bulging burlap sack by the string. Around and around it went, like the most wild of carousels. And indeed, it may have very well felt like one to some, for as the twirls came to an end, the many bulges on its surface began to contort and to squirm, sobs and pleas emanating from within…

​	It was enough to almost make the wolf throw up…

​	“M-My god…” Ash muttered, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Oh, Jesus Christ…”

​	“Yeeeeah~” the folf sighed, chuckling heinously. “Found these poor li’l cuties off the side of the mountain road. Engine failure, if I recall. ‘Oh, you poor things! Don’t worry, I’ll help you get to town! You all must be so thirsty, here, please drink this!’” He smirked, patting the bulges teasingly. “Oh, I helped ‘em out alright. Helped ‘em to myself! A sip of that tonic, and they were out like a light. And now, well… we know what happens to cuties like these, don’t we, Ashy-boy~?”

​	Indeed he did, the wolf thought. Indeed, he did…

​	It was always so disheartening to see whenever the folf’s hunts were a success. Perhaps, to some degree, Ash should just be thankful it was them and not him. But it just hurt… to see it at all. To know how many innocent lives had been stolen - had been snuffed out of existence and gurgled away in a disgusting folf stomach… it was appalling. Whole lives, full of hope and dreams… reduced to nothing but gut slop. And so thorough he was too, precise like a surgeon. Fathom needn’t even tell him how he’d already blown up the car with his fire magic, allowing the hunk of metal to come careening down the mountainside and into the vast ocean below. To an outsider, it would look like any other tragic accident: a group of vacationers accidentally driving off the side of the road, the bodies, perhaps, getting eaten by sharks and never to be seen again…

​	Well, Fathom may not have been a shark himself, but he was surely as voracious as

	one…

​	“H-How many?” the wolf asked feebly. “H-How many… l-lives are you holding?”

​	Fathom smirked, panting in excitement as he poked around here and there, as if counting them, a muffled mewl coming from each bulge…

​	“Mmm… don’t remember exactly. But enough to know their many tiny bodies will suffice for a single normal sized one. And for that, you should be thankful, wolf boy~” Ash whimpered pitifully, and Fathom winked. “Of course, the best case scenario would’ve been to keep ‘em all up normal sized and feast on ‘em over a week. Wouldn’t that be something, Ashy? Barge in, grab one of ‘em by the collar, and drag ‘em away, leaving the rest to whimper and sob as their dear friend is carried off to the smelting~”

​	A long, slow slurp over those folfish chops drove the wolf to tears, visibly shaking now. Fathom sighed, gnawing playfully at the bag’s exterior, eliciting many cries from within…

​	“Ahh, but who would I be to separate such good friends? No, it’s only right that they should all die together, don’t you think? Besides, I think if I just left ‘em tied up, their bonds might not hold up as well as yours. Only the best of restrictions are saved for my special li’l wolfo. Can’t have you leaving any time soon. Isn’t that right… Ashy boy?”

​	Suddenly the folf’s eyes rolled, quickly and with deadly precision, right onto the wolf’s awkward, terrified frame. The simple motion caused the wolf to elicit a strong and violent one, gasping and trembling spasmodically. Soon he couldn’t help but whine as he watched the folf tie the bag, briefly, to one of the overhead ceiling beams before slowly, tauntingly making his way over to him. Once there, he carefully knelt down at the wolf’s side, lifted his chin, and gave his cheek a long, slow lick. The tongue was so thick it smothered all of his cheek with ease, and so slimy, so rancid, so absolutely dripping in slobber it would take at least a couple showers to wash the feeling away entirely. Once the lick was complete, the muzzle moved to the wolf’s ear, the folf’s fur tickling the wolf as he went, as Fathom panted excitedly into it…

​	“Tell me, my friend,” Fathom whispered. “What do you think you’re playing at?”

​	Ash gulped, too nervous to look the folf in the face.

​	“W-Wha… What do you mea–”

​	“Don’t play dumb, pup. You’re hiding something, aren’t you?”

Ash froze, and Fathom smirked, tracing his thick, folf paws along the wolf’s fur. Ash’s heart felt as though it was going to burst…

Had he… truly figured him out already?!

“N-No! I-I’m… I-I’m just…”

“Mmm…” the hybrid hummed. “Don’t feel too bad about it, my friend. It was a good try, it really was. But I can smell your fear, your distress… your hope. So delicious… and more so will it be, to destroy it right in front of your eyes.” He chuckled, tracing his paws from the chains to the wolf’s quivering wrists. “Not to mention, it’s kind of a dead giveaway when you insist on constantly stretching these chains. That can’t be comfortable for you. Now, be a good boy and move aside, would you please?”

Ash, despite every fiber of his being begging him to do the opposite, found himself hesitating. He knew it was futile. He knew it was hopeless. But… but still, it was the only hope he had. The only hope… to leave this hellhole. To make it back home. To see his family and friends again. To hug his parents. All of it… rested on this…

“A-AHH!!!”

But the folf, as always, would have none of it. In the fraction of a second, the once soft and playful grip of the hybrid turned firm and tight, his paw squeezing harshly around the wolf’s forearm. Ash started to scream and beg, watching as the once solid orange of the folf’s fur rapidly began to glow and pulsate like magma. A deep, intimidating grumble echoed from the hybrid’s chest…

Fathom… was unleashing his fire magic…

“N-No! NO!!” Ash screamed, crying in horror, as what felt like sinews of liquid flame began to trickle through his bloodstream, immolating him from the inside out. It was pain indescribable, heat indescribable… it felt as though he were literally being burned alive. It coursed, more and more through his body. His blood began to boil, his nerves spitting apart one by one. If it reached his brain, then…

“F-FATHOM!! S-STOP!! PLEASE, I-IT REALLY HURTS!! S-S-STOOOP!!

“Are you gonna be a good boy? Gonna do what I tell you?”

“Y-YES!! I’M SORRY, I’M SORRY, JUST PLEASE LEMME GO I-I’LL BE GOOD!!”

“You prooooooomise~?”

At that, the wolf let out one final, terrifying yowl, to which the folf, with a casual chuckle, finally relented. The next moment, the flames dissipated, the burning was gone… and all was quiet. No lasting damage, no melting or bubbling of his insides. It was as if it had never happened at all…

But Ash… he would never forget. Indeed, even after the pain dissipated, there still lingered a terrifying trembling coursing through his body. His speech was all but gone. He was little more than a quivering, sobbing mess, and it was only after one final push by the terrifying folf that Ash, whimpering and with his tail tucked between his legs, moved over at last, revealing the hole he’d worked so hard at…

“Ahh…” the folf mused, admiring his friend’s handiwork, taking but a moment to analyze the situation. The hole, the leaky ceiling above, the weakened floorboards below. He nodded with admiration. “Impressive! I have to hand it to ya, Ash, this is good work! Your determination knows no bounds. Just a little while longer, and you probably would’ve dug straight through to the basement!” He closed his eyes as if to ponder, folding his arms and tilting his head. “And then… knowing how, out of the kindness of my heart, I usually allow you a little bit of time to stretch and walk around in here before we have fun, you would’ve slipped down, ran out the door, and, well, presumably to the police! Am I right, little buddy?”

“I…I-I-I…!”

Fathom chuckled, closing his eyes and shaking his head like a disappointed parent, before standing himself up and loosing a deep, breathy sigh…

“What a baaaaad boy you are. Hehe, funny thing is, though… even if you had gotten down there… you wouldn’t have made it much further~”

Ash’s trembles suddenly ceased. Fathom snickered heinously, resting his paws on his

hips.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” he teased. “You didn’t actually think I didn’t know what you were doing all this time, did you? I’m a water-fire folf, my friend. I can sense eeeeevery molecule of water running in this whole house. Inorganically-contained or… otherwise.” He licked his lips, and Ash whimpered. “I was just using you to help get me at head start at renovating. These floorboards have definitely seen better days… even if they still do well at obscuring what’s underneath~”

Fathom smirked, before once again his orange fur began to glow and pulsate. This time, however, a majestic blue aura surrounded him as well. It was a terrifying yet spectacular display, and with it Fathom made great use, burning the rest of the water-damaged floorboards in the corner. It was a controlled fire, the hybrid actually pulling out the entrapped fluids in the damaged wood as he burned it, dousing the flames just as they destroyed it. Once complete, he stomped his boot into the ground, crumbling the brittle damaged floorboards in an instant…

And what it revealed underneath… was enough to make Ash cry…

“Ah, I forgot to tell you, didn’t I” Fathom chuckled, picking up one of the many skulls from the ocean of marrow below, causing a multitude of femurs and other bones to clatter down further into the darkness. “With all those cops getting on my case a while back, I decided to move my special ‘collection’ from the kitchen to the basement. Juuuuust in case any peeping Tom happened to come by~” He sighed lustfully, turning to the skull, holding it in an almost Shakespearian manner before giving it a long, stroking lick. “Mmm… been a real pain having to subdue my hunts till now. I was just starving! But now that their investigation has died down… haha, now the feasts can really get goin’ again. And at least I had you to hold me over in the meantime!” He looked over to Ash and winked. “Truly, I would’ve been at a loss otherwise. I’m so very glad you and I met, Ashy. Aren’t you?”

“S-Stop…”

For once, Ash managed to make Fathom shut up. The wolf sobbed, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. Fathom looked on, his smirk noticeably vanished.

“J-Just… s-stop,” Ash whimpered. “Y-You… y-you’ve made your point. I-I’m… s-sorry, okay? B-But… B-But I…” He began to break down, cupping his head in his paws, and crying like a baby. “I just c-can’t take it anymore. A-Any of this. I just wanna go home. See my friends again… my parents… m-my family. P-Please… I-I can’t… I-I’m begging you… please…”

Words, once more, seemed to escape the poor wolf, and soon he found himself breaking down in another fit of sobs and whimpers. He’d poured his heart out… it was all he had… all he could have done… and now he had nothing left…

Fathom, meanwhile, simply continued to look on, relentless and imposing as ever… though just for a moment, if one looked close, one could swear his expression might have turned to something that could be considered… sorrowful. A soft twitch of the lips, a slight twinkling in the eyes or movement of the brows. It was subtle, it was brief… but it was definitely there…

*Grwwwrll~*

An impatient growling of his stomach, however, called the folf out of his daze. His ears twitched as he rubbed a paw over his belly. He looked to the bag he’d hoisted up, and then finally to his sobbing captive. He discarded the skull, throwing it into the pile below as he crossed his arms and sighed, tapping his boot against the old creaky floorboards, a look of deep contemplation over his face…

Whatever he was pondering, however, was resolved in little time, and with a huff, he suddenly moved over to the nearby boxes. A couple seconds of searching yielded for him a firm, black collar and leash, and he wasted no time in heading over to poor Ash and securing it around his neck with a sharp click. After which, he released the chains that so bruised the lupine’s wrists, and gave a firm tug.

“Up and at ‘em, boy,” he muttered. “You’re coming with me.”

“N-No, w-wait…” Ash whimpered. “F-Fathom, please… I’m sorry, I-I’m sorr–!!”

A very firm tug cut him off, forcing him to stand shakily in tow behind the demanding

folf.

“NOW, runt,” Fathom commanded. “We’re gonna have a nice, long talk about all this. But first…” Fathom paused for emphasis, smirking before, with a clean swipe of his free paw, snatching the bag full of poor, screaming, squirming micros. “It’s dinner time. And you, my dear little wolf, are going to pleasure me as always. Is that clear?”

“But… B–B-But…!!”

Another firm tug, and the wolf was lurched forward, mere inches away from the folf’s terrifying, darkened face…

“Is. That. Clear?”

At last the lupine relented, holding his head down as he whimpered like a puppy…

“Y-Y-Yes… s-s-sir…”

“Good boy.”

​	With that, the hybrid gave one final tug, and at last the three parties, as one unit, moved along. Fathom the folf, Ash the poor, terrified wolf, and the many squirming, crying micros in the folf’s paw. All moved together, out of the frying pan and into the fire, the light to the storage being snuffed out in an instant as the folf shut the door behind them, blanketing the room, as well as the basement of bones below, in a sad, debilitating darkness once again…

​	***

​	The storage, admittedly, was not a room Fathom was particularly proud of. Though it served its purpose well, it was, as he also knew, rotting and decaying, and nothing short of an eyesore. Frankly, he always felt a little uneasy leaving his prized possession in such a place whenever he went out on hunts, but alas, it was also not unideal: it was convenient, away from any exterior doors or windows, and served well for, well, storing him. Nevertheless, it was clear renovations were in order, and indeed, had one somehow toured only this particular room of his house, one might have walked away (yeah, right) with the impression that the folf lived in a pigsty. An unkempt, shabby little place, befitting for an unkempt, shabby little animal to inhabit…

​	This was not the case.

It was by no means a mansion the folf lived in, but it was not a slum either. It was quaint, humble, and gave off good, warm vibes all around. Almost everything was made of wood - solid and firm - and all of his furniture carved the same. He’d built it all from the ground up, the crafty hybrid - his place of residence akin to a log cabin one would find in the middle of the woods, and had many of the amenities one would expect thereof. Plenty of beautiful, handmade quilts, a rustic, cozy atmosphere, and a palpable, intimate connection with nature…

But though it was simple, it was by no means devoid of technology, or advancements used to make life easier. Science, indeed, was something the folf had the utmost respect for, and incorporated into his everyday life. He still preferred to keep it straightforward for the most part though, so while he indeed had running water, electricity, and cable TV, it scarcely excelled beyond that…

The only exception, of course, being that of chemistry. And, as the poor, sobbing micros in his bag could regrettably attest to… he was becoming ever more proficient in this regard. Of understanding the properties of substances from which matter is composed, learning how they interact with one another…

And utilizing it to his full advantage…

Smirking, the folf at last made his way over to the pullout couch in the living room’s center, before which sat a modest television set and some of his favorite video game consoles. Of course, no gaming or marathoning would be necessary for tonight; his beloved wolf, and the incredible score of fresh meat in his gripping paw, was all the entertainment he would need…

​	And so, tail wagging, Fathom sat himself down in the soft cushions with a long, blissful sigh, hints of folf breath steaming into the air. Warm it was, of course, in the living room, but warmer still was the folf’s breath - and ranker just as well. Fathom closed his eyes, murmuring to himself in delight, just about ready to get the show on the road. But that was when he realized…

​	“Ahh…” Fathom chuckled to himself. “Silly folf. Ashy, be a dear and fetch a cold one for me, would you please?”

​	Of course, what was a meal without a good, hearty beverage to go along with it?

​	Ash looked to the folf, nervously, before checking out the mini fridge just behind him. Fathom smiled, as he extended the length of the leash and flicked his wrist, encouraging him to “go along.” It wasn’t a particularly odd request, of course; he’d asked the same thing numerous times before. But… after everything that happened tonight, Ash… was feeling particularly queasy. Every little action the folf made, every word uttered by that hot mouth of his… was enough to make him on edge. Was this some sort of ruse? A trap?

​	In the end, he decided it wasn’t his place to argue. Thus, with a whimper, the shaking wolf slowly, begrudgingly padded his way over. Even at his pitiful speed, it only took a few moments for him to get there, and once he did he hesitantly opened it up. He winced, half expecting some ghoul or desecrated corpse to pop out and scare the daylights out of him.

Luckily, however, no jumpscares were to be had; only the sight he’d been all too familiar with. A couple racks of beer, stacked one after the other: cool and strong. The folf’s favorite.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he leaned forward to reach for one. But then–

“Ack… G-Gck!”

He suddenly felt a strong tug at the front of his throat, cutting off his ability to take in air. Confusion and terror befell him instantly, his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. Just at the same time, a cruel chuckle could be heard from behind.

“What’s wrong?” Ash could hear Fathom tease. “I’m parched over here, Ashy boy! Hurry it up now… unless you’re rarin’ to join these tasty li’l guys in my gut~”

​	Holy shit.

Desperation like never before overcame the poor wolf. Instinctually he reached for the collar at his neck, trying to pry it loose, to take in that sweet, sweet air he took for granted. All of it proved to be in vain; the collar was too tight. Fathom’s hold… was too tight. And as the words of the evil folf resonated through his mind, he realized, with despair, he would have no choice but to play Fathom’s game…

And so he did. Regrettably, shamefully, and knowing full well how pathetic he must look, he did. Tears streaming down his cheeks, he tried desperately to reach the beer before him. That cool, amber bottle of alcohol - poison in any other circumstance, a lifesaver in this one. He tried and tried with all of his might, but always just when it seemed like he would grasp his paw around that cold, crisp glass, the folf’s hold would tighten, pulling him back a couple more inches. Leaning forward even a little bit would result in more strain, and yet he had to do it, over and over again, choking himself further every time. It was a cycle of helplessness the wolf had never known. His face was rapidly turning blue, his eyes popping out of his skull, his tongue forced out of his mouth as he tried to take in air, only to utter shrill, bone-chilling choking sounds instead. He was a toy in the folf’s grasp, there was no doubt. Nothing… but a mere toy. He knew it. Fathom knew it. And yet he had no choice but to assume the role… for his own sake.

For the sake… of those he loved…

For how long it went on, neither of them could say for sure. Eventually, however, whether it happened that Fathom surreptitiously lengthened the line or Ash just got lucky, the wolf did indeed manage to grab hold of one of the bottles. Victory, however, was short-lived, for before the wolf could manage to take a sweet, sweet breath of fresh air, before he could take a step back or even close the fridge door–

“Gooood. Hold it tight, now~”

He suddenly found himself flying across the room.

A mighty tug from the folf rendered the poor, starved lupine airborne, twisting and and turning - yet unable to scream - as he was called back to his captor. Ash’s vision became warped and blurry, his brain quite literally unable to comprehend the rapid change of movement until there was another, going from one hundred to zero in the fraction of a second, as he collided on the wooden floor. He coughed and sputtered, his throat sore from all the abuse. He raised his head take in a breath, his heart practically alight in the anticipation of tasting that sweet air once again–

“MMMPH?!”

Only to find himself tasting the folf’s massive, naked footpaw instead…

​	A deep, sinister chuckle echoed from the hybrid’s throat, reverberating all the way down to Ash’s quivering, grimacing muzzle. The next second, a loud slam could be heard as Fathom removed his remaining boot from his other paw, throwing the leathery piece of footwear against the still-open fridge door, shutting it effortlessly. He was now fully naked, fully exposed… and as always, fully in charge…

​	“Thank you very much~” Fathom teased, snatching the bottle from Ash’s paw, which for some reason he had indeed kept his grip on. The folf opened it with ease, and greedily took several large swigs of the stuff. Great watery bulges squelched one after the other down that furry throat, before the folf pulled away, sighing satisfied…

​	Ash, meanwhile, was helpless to do much else but cringe, whimpering as the sweaty, earthy folf paw danced teasingly over his muzzle. It was so large it covered his entire face with ease, and so warm, so drenched with perspiration one might assume Fathom had run a marathon before arriving. In truth he was just excited - evidenced as the folf tugged once more at the leash, burying the whimpering wolf even deeper into that mighty footpaw. Fathom panted, tail wagging still behind him…

​	“Aww, Ashy…” Fathom cooed. “You’re looking rather thirsty yourself! Poor thing. But hey, since you’re down there, give my steaming paws a good licking, why don’t you? It might just solve both of our problems~”

​	Ash, needless to say, was appalled. He grimaced, eyes beginning to water from the sheer stink and heat emanating off that mighty paw. He wanted so badly to turn away, to shove the paw off him and tell the folf how much of a sick freak he really was. Alas, however, he also knew that fighting back would get him nowhere, as the trembling coursing ever still from his internal immolation could attest…

Thus, with a whimper, the wolf begrudgingly got to work. He gulped, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose, before at last he slipped out that long, pink canine tongue of his, contacted the rich and earthy paws… and began to lap over his captor’s feet. Slowly, at first. Gagging, even, at the salty, cheesy taste. But eventually, a sad, submissive rhythm was attained, the lupine transforming himself into the most adorable, obedient little paw licker for his folfish captor…

​	“Good, goooood,” Fathom moaned in delight, lips quivering, toes curling, resting over the skull of the poor wolf licking over them. “Now, I’m going to enjoy my dinner. And as I do, let’s take some time to reflect, you and I. Not just on how much of a baaaaad boy you’ve been tonight. But on just how and why you find yourself where you are - and myself inexorably above. That sound good to you?”

​	The wolf whimpered in response. Fathom snickered, taking that as affirmation. At the same moment his stomach uttered yet another impatient grumble, and he nodded, deciding it was time, at last, to begin…

And so he did. Slowly, teasingly, fathom undid the knot sealing the burlap sack, taking delight in releasing every small loop, sensing every squirm and plea, begging to leave them alone. He ignored them all, and only a couple seconds later the twine was down on the ground, and his face aglow in pure, predatory excitement, as he admired the squirming, sobbing mass of innocent micros within. They were all unique and diverse in their own way, canines, felines, reptiles and avians: but all wore the same look of terror. It was both an impressive and pathetic sight: seeing all the life before him, so civilized and intelligent; yet seeing also how small and feral they had become, squirming desperately on top of one another, trying to escape…

In mere moments, they’d be trying to do the same exact thing in his stomach…

Licking his chops, Fathom reached for one at random, pulling out a red fox. He was crying the poor fellow, squirming with all his might and begging with his tiny, shrill voice for mercy. Fathom merely smirked, leaning inward and giving him a couple curious sniffs, which made the vulpine tense up, feeling with horror that powerful suction of that huge wet nose. The horror was soon only accentuated, however, as that broad, slimy orange tongue slipped out from between the lips and and licked him over, from his toes to his face, in one powerful, deep, tasting slurp…

*SLLURRRP!!*

In an instant the poor vulpine was completely dripping in hot, steaming folf slobber, wincing and whimpering from the malodorous feel of it all. He quite literally had difficulty in keeping his legs apart with how thick and slimy it was. Hardly, however, had the unfortunate vulpine time to even try, for the next second he was smacked in the face with a foul, satisfied breath, deep rumbles emanating from the hybrid’s vocal cords, ones which reverberated all throughout his ginormous body to the micro’s smaller, ever more delicious one. They were not sounds uttered forcefully, however, calculated and with forethought; they were natural, genuine, in the moment…

And overflowing with pleasure.

“Delicious~”

​	It was only a single word, but perhaps the most terrifying one the poor vulpine could’ve heard. The next moment he was being lifted, up up and away, higher and higher, until he found himself, pinched at his scruff by the hybrid’s extended grasp, staring into the slobbery chasm of orange flesh miles below. Breath steamed like a volcano from his throat, clouding his vision, yet not enough to distract from the tongue flopped out beyond, pulsing and quivering, eager to catch and subdue him. To slobber and slurp and ensnare, before his fate was sealed for good behind those two fleshy, pillowy mounds at the back, lost in the fiery darkness forever…

​	The fox screamed. He screamed and screamed and screamed, crying like never before, squirming like never before. They were cries so pitiful, so sorrowful, so embroiled in sheer terror and misery, that it made his dear friends, watching from the bag, whimper and sob in perfect disharmony, crying his name in desperation. None of it, however, even fazed the evil hybrid: it only made him pant even harder, wag his tail more vehemently, drool all the more excessively…

Eventually, he just couldn’t wait any longer. There was no fanfare, no elegance, no ceremony that anyone forced to suffer such a fate would be deserving of. It just happened. One moment the fox was there, fighting for his life, and the next the poor, innocent vulpine was released, landing onto that broad tongue with a slimy squelch. A final bloodcurdling scream, and with a sharp snap of those teeth… he was gone…

​	After that, it… it all went by so fast. So fast, and yet, in the most painstaking, anxiety-inducing slowness imaginable. And quiet just as well. Where once his friends were screaming and toiling away, now they all lay, on top of one another, completely silent. Their eyes wide and lips trembling, hesitant to believe what they had just witnessed. And yet, as a resounding, powerful gulp pulled their poor fox friend into that throat, reducing him to a mere bulge stickily squelching his way down, they found they had little choice to. Especially as the folf took a brief sigh, belched softly… and turned his gaze back to them~

And through it all, Ash just kept on licking. He had to keep licking. He had no choice… but to keep licking. Even as the screams erupted once again as Fathom reached for another, he just kept slobbering away at his captor’s paws like the slave Fathom had turned him into. It broke his little heart in half, knowing what was happening. Knowing he was pleasuring the beast that was causing so much pain to so many people. He felt just as responsible, like as much as a monster as the folf himself…

And Fathom knew this all too well~

​	“I’m a predator, you see, Ashy boy…” the folf mused, snatching up a rather beautiful tiger girl. “A biiiiig, bad, hungry folf. I’m sure you’ve noticed that by now. But have you truly sat back and wondered… what exactly that means? What it means to be a pred. What it entaaaails~”

​	Fathom chuckled, actually playing around with the terrified cat’s orange and black, fluffy tail before tossing her in the air, snatching her up and swallowing her just the same. Ash could hear it all, his lips quivering, licking ever harder…

​	“It goes beyond hunger,” Fathom continued, now swiping up a particularly terrified bird, a robin from the looks of it. Pity, it was, that he couldn’t fly away. “For someone like me… we’re never full. It’s not about satiating oneself in the literal sense, about fulfilling one’s… nutritional needs.” He licked over the bird, who squawked in response, and Fathom licked his lips before swallowing him down. Just like chicken, he thought. He reached in and grabbed another one, a poor mouse fellow.

​	“You know what it’s really all about?” Fathom teased, using his slobbered-up footpaw to shove poor Ash’s face into the lesser clean one. “Power. Domination. Lust. The ability, the want… the perpetual, incessant need to conquer. To hold one’s life in your own paw, and bend it to your will. I don’t eat people because they’re food… I don’t eat them because I’m necessarily even hungry. I eat them, my dear little Ash… simply because I can~”

​	He gave the poor mouse fellow a strong, stroking lick before popping him in his maw, slurping up his tail like a noodle and swallowing him down. By now the folf was in quite the frenzy, losing himself, steadily, to the twisted predatory euphoria. He just kept devouring them, one after the other, without a care in the world. Sometimes not even bothering to affirm the species or gender before shoving them in his maw, as casually as one would a piece of popcorn. He was completely in bliss: his maw, his gut, and his paws all being cared for and massaged, unwillingly, by his poor little preythings. He simply couldn’t stop panting, couldn’t stop wagging, couldn’t stop swallowing…

​	Just as Ash couldn’t stop licking. Couldn’t stop crying…

​	“Do you remember that day, Ash?” Fathom ventured, taking a breather, sighing huffily over a poor, quivering human. “The day we met? I’m sure you do. And I’m sure you wish you could take it all back. That you could go back in time and pull yourself away from that beach as fast as possible, get yourself on that plane and never return. Just as these little guys wish they could go back and rent a different car, take a different route, travel to a different island altogether~”

​	Fathom’s eyes narrowed on the human, giving him several huge, slobbery licks before his predatorial urges came back to him full force, shoving him in his maw, slurping and slopping over that tasty, skinny human body - admittedly one of his favorites - before gulping him just the same. By now a sizable bulge was forming in his gut, the contents of his bag, rapidly depleting…

​	“But here’s the thing, little one,” Fathom mused, already swallowing down a helpless doe. “None of that matters. It happened, it’s over, and there’s nothing you can do about it. It’s never been about what you want. It’s about what I want. Because I’m a pred. A big bad folf who takes what he wants. And what I want, dear Ash… is you.” Another swallow, another bulge, another life lost. Again and again. “Maybe you thought you were in control of your destiny all your life, that you could be anything that you wanted to be. That you were… you. But the truth is, you’re mine. That’s all you were ever meant to be, what you were born for. I saw you that day, laying so placidly among the ripples. The warm sun beaming down over you, the kindest of smiles on your face. You were special. You were absolutely, completely perfect. Innocent and unspoiled. And I knew, I just knew… that I had to make you mine.” He smirked. “And so I did. I

snatched you up, plucked you out of your life… and claimed you. Because I wanted to. Because I could. It’s as simple as that…”

Fathom swallowed - loud and proud - the poor lizard he’d managed to grab slipping down with ease, as he uttered a long, blissful sigh, tongue flopped out and breath as rank as ever. He reached for another, and found himself puzzled and a bit surprised to find that only one micro remained. Upon pulling him out, however, his cruel smile returned, the black wolf in his grasp shaking and trembling like nothing he’d ever seen, sobbing and whimpering and curled up like a kicked puppy. Understandable, considering what he’d seen happen to all of his friends… and guessing, with disdain, what was about to happen to him. Fathom licked his chops, and just at the same time the other wolf at his paws noticeably stopped licking. Exhaustion, fear, and sorrow, evidently, had taken over at last. And although Fathom was just about finished himself, the night wasn’t over just yet. He’d have to put both of these pups in their place, once and for all…

And so, with his leashing paw, he grabbed Ash by the scruff and lifted him up. The wolf squirmed and whimpered over the folf’s groin, and over his now freakishly squirming gut. It was muddied amongst the fur, but faintly some details could still be made out. Horrified faces, mouths open, screaming in terror, limbs twisting and turning, paws pressing desperately at the stomach walls for succor that would never come. Ash’s heart rate exploded, his breathing becoming wheezy and his eyes shaky - all exemplified the moment he was brought forth, at last, almost nose to nose with the folf’s terrifying face. And just below… was a sight he would never forget…

“Heeelp! Please!”

The terrified, pleading face of the black wolf met his gaze, staring up at him from those dark, rubbery lips. He swore he could see the whole world in his eyes, his fellow lupine. Wolves held such camaraderie with one another, such familiarity and kinship. To see a fellow wolf in such a precarious state, one who could have even been a pack mate in another life… it drove him to tears. Tears which only became all the more bitter and torrential as that orange tongue slipped out, danced around that tiny lupine face, and smothered him, pulling him in just as all the rest. He swished him around teasingly, drenching him in slobber, before bringing Ash’s face down to his throat, holding it steady…

*GLRRRRP!!*

And giving one final, good, impossibly wet swallow. Ash could only keen in despair, sensing that bulge, hearing that bulge, feeling that bulge press desperately against his cheek, uttering one final plea before a final squelch of that relentless peristalsis claimed him for good. The only thing coming up that disgusting throat being a long, wet belch…

*UUURRRP!!*

The feeling was nothing short of euphoric, as Fathom discarded the empty burlap sack and wrapped his arm around his precious Ash, burying him into his fur possessively…

“So…” he mused. “When you plead with me all teary-eyed that you ‘can’t take this anymore…’ that you ‘just wanna go home…’ that you ‘just wanna see your family…’ or your friends or your parents… I have only one thing to say to you…”

He slipped out that long, orange tongue of his once more, licking deeply against Ash’s fluffy ears. The wolf whimpered in dismay…

“Tough shit. You’re mine now, little one. Mine and mine alone. I don’t care how much you miss your family. I don’t care what aspirations in life you had up until now. I don’t care how much you beg and plead. I own you now, pup. In the most intimate way imaginable. I am your family. Your aspiration. Your one and only friend. I’m your entire world, little one, and I’m never, ever letting you go.” He paused briefly, and then chuckled, nuzzling into his fur. “And now that I’ve said that… do you have something to say, Ashy? Come on… you’ve been aaaawfully quiet as of late… I’ve been missing that angelic voice of yours. Speak now… or forever hold your peace~”

It would be satisfying to say that Ash had indeed managed to say something. Something vulgar, something powerful… something that, despite all the insults and horrors he’d endured that night, he could spit in Fathom’s face as one final, staunch act of defiance. Instead, he simply lay there, completely petrified, buried in the folf’s fur. For some time the only sounds to be heard at all were the wet squelches and gurgles of the folf’s packed stomach, working with overdrive to churn his prey to gut slop. At length, however… a series of remarkably sorrowful, wholly depressing sobs joined in. The next moment, the wolf found himself resting his chin along the folf’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around him tightly in a defeated, sorrowful hug…

Checkmate.

Fathom had won. He knew it, Ash knew it… everyone knew it. With that simple act, Ash’s hope was sealed away for good, submitting himself fully to his captor. There was no doubt Ash hated the folf’s guts… wanted him to suffer… regretted even laying his eyes upon him at all. But the pain was immense… too much for him to handle alone. He needed someone… anyone… to help him through it…

And Fathom… was all he had…

The hybrid was all too happy to oblige. He wrapped both of his arms around him, hugging tight. He murred happily, tail wagging before giving unto him a surprisingly tender smooch, burying his muzzle into his fur…

“Aww… there, there. Folfy’s gotcha. Foooooolfy’s gotcha…”

*Slurp~*

“And he always will.”

It was an embrace that seemed to last hours. Hours lost in each others’ fur, lost in one another’s warmth. But while just the mere thought of spending such a great period of time with the folf would normally be enough to drive the lupine to despair… for some reason he found he just couldn’t let go. He needed him. He was wholly dependent… on him. It was such a twistedly sad scene to behold. Indeed, had one not known any better, one might assume the two were lovers, the folf perhaps comforting the wolf after a particularly bad day. Everything about it seemed so genuine, so heartfelt, so peaceful and warm. So full of care and understanding…

*Sllk!*

But of course… one must not forget the venom that lay behind such understanding…

It was hardly perceptible, the tiny syringe. Compared to everything else Ash had experienced that night, the pain was nothing; and it happened so fast, and had appeared so rapidly out of nowhere, that Ash almost didn’t even realize it at all. But oh, he did. And once he did… his eyes shot open in absolute horror…

“But you know…” Fathom giggled, easing the syringe out of the wolf’s flesh and tossing it safely into a nearby trash bin. “Let’s not forget that you’ve been a veeeeery bad boy tonight. And, with that storage room out of commission, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to keep ya somewhere else nice and secure until I get it fully renovated. Luckily… *slurp!*... I’ve got just the spot for ya~”

“O-Oh no…” Ash whimpered. “Oh god no… F-Fathom, plea–!!”

“Shhh,” he hushed. “Just let it happen~”

Ash was about to retort, to beg and plead and do anything in his power to change the folf’s mind… but it was too late. The next moment, the lupine’s mind became cloudy. His speech failed him, his limbs just as well. A terrible burning sensation overcame him, and it felt as if the world was swirling and warping. The world, however, was fine, turning as it always did. Instead the problem was with him, and his rapidly shrinking self…

Indeed, impossibly, remarkably, seemingly going against the laws of physics themselves, he was shrinking. Inch by terrifying inch, the wolf found himself rapidly miniaturizing before the smirking folf, who himself appeared terrifyingly larger and larger by the second. That confident gray muzzle, that sloppy tongue licking over his chops, those huge and imposing eyes glaring down at him. All of it growing bigger and bigger, his expression more and more sadistic. In all the time they had known each other, Fathom had never gone as far as to shrink him down. God only knew when, or if, he would ever grow him back to normal size. But now that he knew what it was like… Ash never wanted to go through it again…

A smirk from that teasing folf told him, however, it would merely be the first of many…

The process itself only took under a minute. The whole time, Fathom never kept his eyes off him, holding him level by pinching him at the scruff of his neck, the wolf’s collar falling off

naturally on his lap. And once the process was complete, and Ash was a sad and pathetic three inches in height, the folf sighed blissfully, licking his chops with pure elation~

“Oh, but don’t worry, Ashy,” Fathom teased. “I’m not gonna digest you like these fools. All I’m gonna do… mmm, lock you up in here~”

Fathom opened his maw slowly and deliberately, holding the terrified, shrunken wolf over it. He flopped out his tongue and huffed that foul, rancid folf breath over him in what felt like titanic gusts of raw stink, before clicking his teeth shut decidedly right in front of him…

“For safe keeping~”

“Oh god…” Ash whimpered, squirming wildly. This couldn’t be happening… this just couldn’t be happening! “P-Please, F-Fathom! I-I’m sorry! N-No, I… a-anything but this!”

“Uh-uhh~” the folf teased, waggling his finger. “Can’t let you out of my sight ever again, I’m afraid.” He paused… and then chuckled. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to if you’re inside me… but if I’m not seeing you, I’m at least gonna be tasting you.” He winked. “Either way, I’ll know exactly where you are. Now, be a dear and scream for me, would you?”

“N-No! F-Fathom! W-Wai–!!”

But it was too late. The next moment the wolf found himself in a free fall, the folf’s terrifyingly large, orange, fleshy maw waiting just below. He landed on the tongue with a sickening squelch, reeling him in and holding him tight, as those dangerously sharp teeth closed slowly before him. He screamed, reaching an arm out, feeling his heart drop more and more as inch by inch, centimeter by painful centimeter, the outside world escaped from him…

*CLICK!!*

Until it was gone at last. Razor sharp teeth, sliding perfect one after the other, sealed him inside. Cutting off the light from the outside, and reinforcing his hold in his newfound cell…

Ash whimpered in horror, his heart dropping fully as he was forced to acclimate to the organic environment. It was not a welcoming place at all, deserving not even for the most horrid of criminals, let alone someone like him. It was humid, slimy, appallingly foul… and it was everywhere. He was fully inside Fathom’s maw now. His captor, his tormentor… Fathom Valkea. His whole body… lay helplessly on his tongue like a simple scrap of meat. The hot throat at his back and the terrified screaming resonating beyond it reminding him, constantly, of what fate he would suffer if he dared resist…

And yet somehow it only got worse. In but a single motion he suddenly found himself, once curled by the slimy tongue, to be thoroughly buried underneath it, immobilizing him completely. And under all that hot flesh and slime and mucous, he could only help but whimper and sob as the folf’s chuckles reverberated disorientingly around him~

“And be careful now~” Fathom teased, his voice a bit muffled with a whole micro in his maw. “I’ll do my best to not swallow, but I might not be able to control myself if you slip too far back. So be a good boy like I know you are, and just rest there a while, yeah? Lest you wind up… burned to ash~”

The folf chuckled heinously at the sick pun. Ash merely whimpered, after which the hybrid gave a long, satisfied stretch before patting his gut, turning out the lights, and closing his eyes to enjoy a nice, long slumber. His precious wolf held nice and tight under his tongue… safe and secure…

And poor Ash… all poor Ash could do was whimper. Whimper and sob and gag in disgust, as the reality of his situation finally and relentlessly drilled itself into his tiny wolf brain. With that hug he’d given him earlier he knew his fate was already sealed. He knew there remained, now and forever, no hope of escaping this folf. No hope of making it back home. But now it was clearer than ever. This was his home. Fathom was his home. Fathom… was his whole world. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was gone from the outside, little more than a name and a memory, vanished from any and all who had known him…

*Glrrrrgle~*

*Mmmph!* *Hlllmph!*

*Whimper~*

And if Fathom had anything to say about it… he’d made sure he remained that way…