Commissioned by
\n\t\t\t\t\tfurx.- - -
I regain consciousness to the intermittent scream of duct tape coming off the roll. My head is throbbing. I squirm reflexively, moaning softly in pain. I quickly find my legs are stiff and fused together. I can hardly even bend my knees. Someone is holding my ankles, bracing them as a wave of tightness coils up over my calves. Tugging at my arms, I find I can't move them either; they're folded across and pinned against my chest. Both my hands are closed tight around some sort of padding, trapping my fingers in place.
A pair of large, strong hands on my shoulders responds to my movements by tightening their grip, which digs their thumbs painfully into my clavicle bone. My vision swims as I squint open my eyes, allowing me to resolve nothing more than afterimages of dark silhouettes swaying in front of the bright light shining overhead. I count at least three shadows before I shut my eyes again.
I can feel my natural regeneration at work; the double vision and the quickly fading ache in the back of my head suggests I was knocked out from behind. I try to remember what happened, but all I recall are flashes and sensory fragments: walking at night, looking at the stars, a cold damp mist, talking to someone, laughing at a silly pun, the warm smell and chewy taste of fresh soft pretzels, a scaled hand, a screech of tires...
Everything after that is a blank void.
I stretch, whimpering as I feel a suffocating squeeze everywhere along my rubber skin. The taping pauses and a gruff voice barks at me while another voice, more silky and lenitive, hisses darkly in my ear. I can't understand what they're saying, but a sharp chill of fear runs down my spine.
The floor I'm resting on tilts slightly one way, then the other, which is followed by the slam of doors. I realize I'm in the back of a large truck or van. It's psychosomatic, but I can feel my heart start to pound in my chest as the figures around me go silent. An oppressive anticipation hangs in the air, as the driver and front passenger hold a conversation with others outside. I hear hands rummaging around in a canvas bag beside me, followed by the sound of crinkling plastic.
I open my eyes again to find the overhead light now switched off, but the interior is more than sufficiently lit by the bright lights streaming through the rear windows of the van. I cast my eyes about, blinking as my vision is fully restored, and get my first good look at my captors, a wolf and an ocelot. I cry out as I look at what I thought was a third shadow, only to find a red scaled lizard cocooned in duct tape from their chin to the tip of their tail and bungee tied to a side railing. The light cast directly on their face shows mottled bruising and a tiny trickle of dried blood trailing from their nose. Their eyes are glassy and half-lidded, but a labored rasp reveals them to be alive...but just barely. I turn and lift my head back to my kidnappers, jaw hanging and my lower lip quivering. The wolf seated behind my head stares down on me, their expression impassive, bordering on stoic. The ocelot smiles, whispering something that sounds reassuring until I feel their hand touch my legs. Looking down, I squeak at the sight of my own body completely mummified in several layers of silver tape. I can quickly tell that my limbs and torso were sealed separately before I was wrapped into one tight little package.
I can hear myself starting to beg, "Please, let us g-," but before I can vocalize another syllable, I'm interrupted by the noise of handles turning and the rear doors grinding open on creaking, rusted hinges. The cat climbs out first before reaching back in, grabbing my ankles, and dragging me toward the rear like a sack of mulch. Teetering on the ledge, they lever my mummified body into their arms like a bride being carried across the threshold. The timber wolf scoots out behind me, dragging my mummified companion with them and hefting them onto their shoulder.
Four sets of boots crunch along a pea-gravel lined path as we are carried to the periphery of what appears to be a deserted construction site. A rectangular panel of powerful LEDs is stationed between a backhoe and a cement truck, illuminating a hole in the ground approximately two meters in diameter and two meters deep. The spotted feline lowers me back to my taped feet, holding my biceps to keep me steady, while the wolf does the same to the red lizard.
I watch as a short crocodile wearing a business suit and hard hat emerges from the darkness and trudges up to the lizard. They mutter a few words, nudging a small mound of dirt into the hole with their expensive shoes as if to emphasize their point. The threat is obvious to everyone. The croc looks up expectantly as the lizard's eyes swivel down to them with a dimming spark of recognition. A look of serious consideration passes over their face, but only for a moment before their lips curl into a lopsided smile. The croc's smirk droops into a frown as they shake their head in annoyance, turning around and trudging away as they raise their left hand in a dismissive gesture.
Signal given, I instantly feel something brush past my ears, yank down over my muzzle, and draw tight around my throat. I gasp, rearing back and twisting side-to-side as I hear more duct tape being ripped off the roll and wound around my neck. Eyes wide, I watch the wolf and a brown bear in overalls doing the same to the lizard, who by then is too far gone to put up much of a fight. I watch the bag fog up faintly at their lips, crinkling as it puffs out and contracts. The wolf reaches up and slides their hands down over the lizard's cheeks and snout, plastering their stiff head-scales against their scalp and removing the excess air pockets. The ripping and tearing of duct tape echoes against the heavy construction vehicles for a solid minute until the wolf and bear each grab an end of the lizard and lower them to the edge of the pit before rolling them down the steep incline. Like a rag doll the lizard tumbles, slides, bounces, and finally lands face-up on the soft, sandy bottom.
As they turn to me, I begin to scream and wail, bucking and thrashing as I feel their hands latch on, lifting me off the ground.
"Personne ne t'entendra ma chérie."
I see stars as my tailbone impacts a small stone on the way down. Thankfully, I also land face-up on a soft cushion of dirt and sand. I continue to struggle, but give up on calling out as the cement truck revs its engine, drowning out everything else including a series of beeps as its crusty chute backs into view and hovers over the side. Contorting my body and kicking my bound legs, I try to get a last look at the lizard, feeling a sudden spark of familiarity return to my memory. The wrinkled plastic is sealed against their face, their staring, bloodshot eyes and lolling tongue practically laminated by their terminal breath.
"No, please no...," I whisper, but it is too late. A lever is thrown, then another, and soon a gurgling noise is followed by a splash and torrent of thick, wet cement. The lizard's body forms a barricade to the sludge for a short while, his final gentlemanly act towards me. I watch in silent horror until the moment the cement washes over his slack face. I wriggle frantically, but quickly exhaust what reserves of strength I have. The cement engulfs my legs, my feet, my arms... even squirming becomes impossible from the sheer weight. Yet, the inexorable tide continues to rise; I feel the liquid stone pressing the plastic up against my chin and lips, compressing my cheekfur and seeping into my ears. The air bubble trapped by the plastic shifts upward, causing my nose and the rest of my slender muzzle to disappear, shrinkwrapped in silence. Soon, I see the cement creeping over the edges of my vision. In my last moments, I witness the wolf light a cigarette and leave alongside the bear, but the ocelot remains, smiling saucily and purring as she makes a show of digging the ring and middle fingers of her left hand between her thighs. When the cement finally swallows over my right eye, she uses the last opportunity to wave goodbye.
"A bientôt dans mes rêves, petite renarde. Adieu, mon ami écailleux."