What's Meant to Be
©2007 comidacomida

Cory tightly gripped the remnants of his shirt, eyes clenched as he lay upon the cold, stone floor shivering from the lack of heat as well as the embarrassment--and the pain.  The young buck didn't move, fighting back any sign of tears as the guards laughed together.  The larger of the two, a black bear, finally took his foot off of the deer's neck.  The other guard, a gray wolf, pulled his pants up.  It wasn't the first time the guards had raped Cory and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

"Well... as long as this pretty little doe continues to behave I guess we can make sure the cook finds it in his busy schedule to get her fed, don'cha think?" the wolf grinned sadistically to the bear.

"We don't have to worry about that... prisoners like this one love that sorta treatment." the bear responded, and both continued laughing all their way out of Cory's cell.  He remained on the ground; face down on the stone, tears leaking noiselessly out of his eyes until he was sure they were gone.  Slowly curling himself up into a ball, the young buck finally gave over to humiliation and pain... and he cried.

Numerous months previously, Cory had been living a good life... or at least a reasonable one for the standards of the kingdom.  His father was a tanner and his mother worked at the shop sewing.  Cory was especially adept at the trade and was planning on one day taking over the business.  The kingdom was good to its common folk and it wasn't unreasonable to assume that the young buck would eventually become quite comfortable with his modest income.  Things would have continued if not for a few indiscretions on his part.

Though the ruler was quite benevolent to the majority of his subjects, there were certain activities that were met with harsh punishments and merciless judgment.  Interspecies mingling was not only frowned upon; it was against the law.  Cory had made the mistake of taking a fancy to a young ferret, and the ferret had returned the interest.  While the general punishment for commingling intimately was public flogging, things were not quite so easy for Cory.  The ferret was the heir of a petty noble... and the ferret was male.  Homosexual relations were cause for a far harsher penalty.

Cory's breath slowly evened out.  The shaky tempo smoothed and solidified as his crying abated.  He had been taken from his family some time ago and had been imprisoned ever since.  The stay had never been a good one; originally the guards had picked on him, poked him, prodded him, goosed him, and generally made his life uneasy.  After a time, however, they began to grow tired of the casual accosting and left him to rot... until the raping began.

The two guards charged with overseeing Cory's wing of the dungeon were usually too busy with other prisoners to bother him but, by Cory's estimation, at least every few weeks they would force themselves upon him... sometimes one or sometimes both.  He fought back tears as he considered it: used for the pure enjoyment the guards had for humiliating him while getting off.  The buck picked up the scored remains of his shirt and draped them across his shoulder, shakily getting to his hooves as he weakly slid his torn breeches back on.

Taking a seat on the ground once more, Cory wiped at his shoulders and back with the remnants of his shirt, blotting and rubbing at the scent of wolf and bear that still lingered on him.  There were some scents he knew that would not go away easily, but he couldn't bring himself to sit there and still smell his abusers without trying something.  The buck stood once more, more secure on his hooves as he moved underneath the sole window in his chamber.  Nearly 15' up along the wall, a small, one foot by one foot, barred window permitted light into his cell. It wasn't so much the light that he was after-- it was water.

Downspouts clung to the outside of the building near the buck's cell.  One of the tubes was apparently damaged, allowing an almost steady trickle of water to seep into his room after pooling on the stones of the window.  Cory rubbed a bit of rag across the wall, wetting it.  He began to slowly scour the fur on his neck and along his back where the bear had held him down.  

He dampened the cloth further before sponging his hips and ribs where the wolf had gripped him.  Once the scent of the guards was out of his fur, Cory sloshed the rag around in the small pool of water on his floor.  He lowered his breeches before slowly easing it up underneath his tail, and the buck winced as the cold shock of water met a hot stabbing of pain; whether it was the wolf or the bear or both, they were never gentle.  He gingerly dabbed at his tail hole, cleaning it as best as he could manage without bringing more tears to his eyes, but not stopping until the red stains were gone from the white fur of his tail. 

Cory folded the cloth, distastefully crinkling his nose at the mixed blood and semen on it when a sudden commotion from the hallway drew his attention to his door.  He recognized the sound quickly enough; a new prisoner was being "gently" escorted down the hall.  The tell-tale sound of someone being dragged roughly across a stone floor revealed that, whoever the new prisoner was, they weren't giving up without a fight.  The darker side of Cory hoped inwardly that they would manage to hurt one of the guards... but he didn't dwell on the thought very long.  He heard the sound of a door unlocking from the cell next to his.  Pulling up his pants, the buck moved closer to his cell door.

"Get in there!" he heard the bear's gruff voice, followed by a loud, heavy thump on the floor.  While a stone wall separated the cell from his own, Cory could still hear well enough, and whomever was placed there wasn't about to take it lying down.  The buck heard the new prisoner scamper to his feet, but by then the cell door slammed.  Cory was somewhat intrigued, having been one of few prisoners on his cell block, he had rarely been next to an occupied cell, and after so long in captivity, having someone-- anyone other than the guards nearby seemed like a godsend.

Whoever was in the next cell was shouting and screaming.  The new prisoner's voice was deep and powerful, but, even with a voice like that, it wouldn't last forever.  The sounds continued for quite some time, and Cory had to admit that the fight had not yet left the new prisoner.  By the buck's estimation, the exclamations continued for over two hours-- Cory's own, to his recollection, abated after mere minutes.  The buck sighed as he remembered his first few hours in captivity.  He remembered his first few days... and his first few weeks... his first few months...

Cory remembered, at one point, not counting any longer.  He realized around that time that he would never escape; keeping track didn't seem worthwhile any longer.  When the shouting abated, the young buck felt awkward-- the silence had had grown accustomed to seemed almost out of place after such a vocal display from the new prisoner.  Cory felt himself begin to grow curious.

The buck slowly moved closer to the wall that he shared with the new prisoner.  Placing his ear against the stone, he tried to make out a sound-- any sound. He strained to catch the faintest sound, and he was rewarded with the sound of quiet sobs.  Deep inside him, the buck felt a vice-like grip tighten strongly, making his stomach churn and his viscera ache.  Cory felt powerful pangs of empathy wash through his body and he quickly scrambled away from the wall.  The buck had experienced those same feelings-- the sense of abandonment and hopelessness that came with imprisonment.  The new prisoner felt alone... and now the buck felt it anew.  

Welcome to your new home. Cory thought, it never stops hurting.  He lay down in the corner amidst several bits of hay and discarded clothing.  The buck was cold, but he was used to it at that point.  Slowly closing his eyes, he found they were full of tears once again, and he felt another moment of camaraderie with the new prisoner; they were both crying.  Cory did not sleep easily... not that he ever did.

* * * * *

The buck awoke, to his estimation, sometime near midnight.  The faint, silver light issuing from his window meant that the moon was well into the sky, and that it was full, or at least close to full.  Cory hugged his arms close to his body, shivering as the winter air chilled him to the bone.  While he had hay to lay on, the air was still cold enough for his breath to come out in puffs of steam.  Waking up at night was not at all abnormal for him, but this time, he realized that he was awakened by the sound of movement in the hall.

Moving over to his door, the buck pressed his ears against the wood.  The door was easily 10' tall, and about 7' up it there was a small opening with bars on it.  Gripping the bars, Cory pulled himself up, slowly and silently.  It was a simple enough task, and, having gained enough experience doing it, the buck had been able to take several peeks out into the hallway.  On this peek, however, Cory saw something he truly didn't want to see; the guards were heading off down the hallway, dragging what appeared to be a dead prisoner by one leg.

Though Cory couldn't get a good view, he knew enough to guess. It was a badger, judging from the fur coloration and build, though, as he'd expect from any carnivorous prisoner who'd spent time in the dungeon, the badger looked thin and malnourished.  Food served in the dungeon was the same regardless of race, and, while the food was hardly sufficient for even a deer, it was harder for those like tigers or wolves or badgers to subsist on the meager fare.  Bread and grain wasn't much, but it wasn't even close to enough for one of the fanged.

Cory shuddered, not liking the idea of any prisoners dying, not even a meat eater.  From his time imprisoned, the buck knew that fanged were generally kept several cell blocks down.  Though he didn't know why, he'd heard the guards talking often enough and knew that there was a separation.  There was no cell on the other side of the wall to Cory's right... just a drop down into the ocean below.  As for the cell to the left, Cory didn't recall who the last resident was... that prisoner had only been there for three days before succumbing to some kind of sickness, and the cell had been unoccupied ever since.  Before that prisoner, however, it was a mole named Vicente.

Vicente had been in the dungeon long before Cory had arrived.  The old mole had managed to scrape away some of the mortar between a set of stones on their joint wall.  For the first few months of Cory's stay, Vicente had been his company.  They talked, albeit short amounts at a time.  The mole had been in bad health, and knew he would not be long in life.  

Vicente said many times that hearing another person's voice in conversation helped him feel better... and having someone to talk to helped calm Cory.  The deer really didn't know Vicente that well, but he still cried the day that the mole stopped talking back.  Cory had watched from his cell as the guards brought Vicente's body away, much in the same way as he saw the badger being dragged off.  It brought some of those emotions back, and the deer let go of the bars, sliding back to the cold stone floor as he let out a shaky breath.

His emotions, however, were stalled as he heard movement from the cell next to him.  The new prisoner, Cory could guess, would be having trouble getting used to the accommodations; the buck didn't even want to remember his experience on the first night.  Cory heard pacing-- big, heavy steps.  Bull... maybe an elephant or rhino. Cory thought to himself.  Scooting over to the shared wall, the buck put his ear to the crack between stones and listened.

The prisoner adjacent to him had deep voice, and was talking, most likely to himself.  Unable to make out the words, Cory reasoned that he must have been on the far side of the cell.  Continuing to listen, the deer heard the prisoner move from one side of the cell to the other, then back again, most likely, Cory thought, he was pacing.  Swallowing a lump in his throat, the buck put his muzzle up to the spot where the mortar was weakest, and tried speaking.

"Pstt!  Hey!" he hissed in a loud whisper.  He waited, not knowing of the other prisoner had head him.  After a few seconds, he tried again, "Hey!" a little louder, and that time the pacing halted.

"Hey!" Cory tried one more time, hoping that the other prisoner would hear enough to come closer.  A half second later, he heard movement from the cell drawing closer to the wall.

"Huh?" came a bewildered response from the next cell.  Cory found himself smiling.

"Hey." Cory noted.

"That all you say?" responded the voice from the other side of the wall, and Cory almost leapt up as a huge weight settled down with a thump against the other side of the wall.

"Uh... no.  Sorry." Cory responded, feeling his ears grow warm from embarrassment, "I just haven't talked to anyone in awhile." he offered.

"Well you still aren't talking to anyone... I'm no one."

"Nice to meet you, No-one.  I'm Cory." the buck responded, grinning, though the other prisoner couldn't see the expression.

"Smart ass." came the grunted reply.

Cory paused at that, wondering for a moment if he had started off on the wrong foot, or if he tried for something too light-hearted considering it being the other prisoner's first day.  "I just..." Cory backpedaled.

"I was joking." the other prisoner replied flatly, "You lose a sense of sarcasm too?"

"Oh... I..." the buck responded, feeling at once embarrassed and relieved.  He didn't want to start off on the bad hoof on the first night with what could possibly be his only company other than the guards for a decade or more.

"Relax... you have the next 40 years to get used to it." the bold voice interrupted neutrally.

"Heh... yea." the deer replied, feeling even more foolish, "Anyway... I'm Cory and--"

"You already said." the voice interrupted him again.

"Right... I guess... I was hoping you'd introduce yourself too."

Cory heard the prisoner shift against the wall, possibly standing, "Like I said, I'm nobody."

"Is that what you want me to call you?" Cory asked, confused.

"Call me anything you want... if you're talking, it's pretty safe to say you're talking at me."

"You're not really making this easy..." the buck offered.

"I'm making it real easy. I said call me anything you want.  In here my name doesn't matter anyway." came the gruff response.

"It matters to me." the deer noted, resting a hand against the stone wall, "I want to know, please." a half second later, Cory smacked his hand over his muzzle, ugh... that sounded needy, he noted to himself.

"Did you know someone named Vicente?" the gruff voice from beyond the wall inquired.

"Yea." Cory responded, perking an ear at the question, "He was in that cell before you.  How did you know his name?"

"He did a good job of stone carving... left a message here."

"Vicente was a mole... he's the one who cleared out a hole to talk through." Cory put his eye down to the hole, trying to peer through it to catch any glimpse of the new prisoner.  Judging from his attitude, Cory was leaning towards rhino,"What does it say?" the buck inquired.

"It's just a message saying welcome to hell." the prisoner responded.

"Doesn't sound like Vicente." Cory noted.

"That was a summary."

"Ah..." Cory offered back, ears drooping a little.  Though it wasn't obvious at first, the buck did realize after the continued exchange that the new prisoner still needed time to settle in.  From what he'd understood from talks with Vicente, most prisoners needed time to themselves to assimilate what was happening to them.  Taking that knowledge to heart, Cory sighed, pushing his own loneliness away as he backed up from the hole, "Anyway, I'll let you get some sleep... sorry to bother you."

There wasn't a response from the other side of the wall, and Cory signed, scooting further away from the break in the mortar.  His ears perked when he heard the large shape on the other side of the wall shift closer to it, "Cory?"

"Yea?" the buck called, controlling his voice so he didn't seem too overtly happy being addressed.

"The name's Ackert."

Cory smiled; it was a start, "Nice to meet you Ackert." the buck replied.

"Yea... it'd be swell if it were under better circumstances."