Maybe I don't have a choice, and maybe that is all I have, and maybe this is a cry for help.

The smell of frying meat and vegetables makes me wrinkle my nose, but I continue to stir and turn the food in the wok. My hands shake as I hold the utensils, blinking rapidly to clear the film of red from my eyes. I hear the stomp of heavy boots coming down the stairs, and grit my teeth and Marina enters the kitchen. Her voice is rough with sleep as she inquires, "What did I miss?" 
I hear the snap of her unbuckling and removing her tactical vest. Keeping my gaze on the cooking food, I reply, "Oh hey. You're awake. I figured you'd be hungry, since you need to eat, so I'm making you something to eat." I cringe at the sound of my own voice, and its unnatural, disjointed tone.
As Marina continues to remove her boots and outerwear, her scent fills the room, reeking of sweat, dirt and river water. She moves close to me, and her hands come into my view, reaching for the spatula. "I can cook, Madelyn. Here, let me-"
I needlessly inhale, whimpering quietly as Marina reaches past me. My throat burns at the smell of her blood flowing so nearby. "I can...I can do it."
She pushes at me with her shoulders. "Really, it's not an issue. You don't have to cook for me."
I look up to her finally, attempting to fight my hunger. My fangs extend and I cover my mouth, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to help...I'm sorry." I drop the cooking utensils and move away from the ghoul.

Marina seems mildly stricken, "No, no," she apologizes. "It's not that, I'm just not really used to being waited on. You know? It's not really something that I encounter often." She follows me step for step, despite my angst, "I'm not used to someone serving me, instead of the other way around."
I hold my hands out, attempting to halt Marina's following. "Please stop...you smell...you smell like.." I press my hand harder against my mouth and nose.
She stops, then lifts her arm and sniffs underneath. "Good god, you're right." She pauses, staring at me with a curious expression. "If you don't mind, could I take a shower? I don't want to impose further, but I could use a bath, like, yesterday."
I nod my head, still covering my mouth. "You can do whatever you want "
"No, it's your house. Just because my regnant is your... you know, doesn't mean you can't have a pair when you're talking to me. I'm a ghoul, Madelyn, you're allowed to say 'no' to me."
I force my hand from my mouth, attempting to muster an iota of control as I respond, "It's fine. Really, Marina. I'm just..." I take another step back, desperate to escape the reek of her blood. "Don't worry about it. Go...shower." She gives me a wary glance, before heading upstairs.

The floor creaks under her every step, and I hear the bathroom door shut and the groan of the pipes as the water begins to run. With struggle, I return to the food. The hand not stirring creeps up to my mouth, and I bite into it, relishing the pain and the taste of my own blood. I finish the stir fry and turn the stove off, rocking back on my heels until the sound of Marina's voice coming down the stairs jolts me from my fugue. "Uh, Madelyn? Got any clothes I can borrow?"
I pull my hand from my mouth, swallowing harshly before answering. "Yeah, I'll...yeah."
Marina waits at the top of the stairs, clad in a damp towel, her strawberry blonde hair spread in wet hanks over her shoulders. Some of the wounds on her shoulders seem to have healed. I stop at the top of the stairs, unable to keep my eyes from her neck as she speaks. "Thanks, again." Nodding, I duck into my room, avoiding looking at the bed as I pull an armful of clothing from my closet and step back into the hallway, offering it to Marina. She chuckles. "Any for you? You need them almost as much as I do."
I glance down at the same clothes that I've been wearing for the past five nights. "No, I'm fine." I squeeze my wounded hand at my side, hoping the sting will distract me from the vein that pulses in her bare throat. "I should leave you alone..."
She accepts the clothing, but sets it aside, studying my face. "Madelyn, do you need to feed? If so, you need to tell me now."
"I need to.." I shrink away from Marina. "I don't want to."
T
he ghoul breathes heavily, then sighs out in a sort of confident declaration of intent. "Madelyn, I have enough blood to sustain you. Just take enough to sustain you, until I can grab you a willing participant. Luckily, you're not one of Tommy's people, so you'll at least be able to do it without making me want to die." 
She smiles and chuckles at her last statement, and the sound makes me flinch. "I'll hurt you. I can't not." My tone is conflicted, torn between hunger and distaste.
Marina falters slightly, "Of course you can. What is it that Littany said? It's an expression of intent. Just think about not hurting me, and it won't hurt."
I swallow a mouthful of air, looking to Marina, my eyes sad. "That's why I can't."
She places a hand on my shoulder, holding up the towel with her underarms, and asks, "Why not? Maybe I can help? I was there when Tommy taught the Caitiff how, maybe it'll help."
I stiffen under Marina's hand, but don't move away. Shaking my head, I reply, "I don't want to...not hurt you." I lower my face, avoiding the ghoul's eyes.
I feel her warm hand under my chin forcing my eyes to hers. Her expression looks hurt as she asks, "You want to hurt me?"
I clench my hands tightly at my sides, struggling. "Marina, please stop. I'll just...I'll figure something else out.." My hunger grows, despite the tears that well in my eyes.

Marina seems to be steeling herself, her muscles stiffening as she bites down hard on her own tongue. She opens her mouth, displaying the welling blood to me. I groan aloud, wanting to turn my gaze away and retreat. Her expression shows defiance and power, but there's a hunger of her own in her eyes. I envy her control, exhaling sharply and pushing her away with clawed hands. My lips pull up, exposing my teeth in a snarl. Marina's towel drops as she parries my claws to the side and forces her mouth against mine. The smell of her blood is too strong. My fangs grow and I bite into the ghoul's lips and mouth with a growl. She growls back in response, her wounded tongue pressing into my mouth. I clamp my jaws down, severing part of the organ and relishing the gout of blood that escapes down my throat. Marina's gasps in pain, her body pinned against mine as I dig my claws into her shoulders. I reach out to her with my thoughts, not speaking, but implanting a taste of the sickening madness into the ghoul's subconscious. I watch as her eyes grow wide and frightened, her stance becoming defensive. I tighten my grip, my lips turn up into a smile against hers as I continue drinking. Marina begins to pull away, a high pitched groan emitting from her chest. I remove my claws from her shoulders as she breaks free, shredding her lips in the process. Hissing angrily, hot blood running down my chin, I lunge as she runs into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I follow, slamming my open palm against the door hard enough to shake it in its frame.

A shudder runs through my body, and my guts churns, threatening to lurch up the blood I just consumed. I hit my palm against the wood again, half-heartedly. My mouth tastes sour and I fight away the shame and horror that spreads its seeds in my thoughts. The sound of thumping comes clearly from inside the bathroom. Squeezing my eyes shut briefly, I turn the knob and open the door. Marina cowers in the bathtub, wielding the curtain rod in a scene that's painfully familiar to me. Her green eyes show a deep terror, the terror that only comes with being surrounded by your own worst fears. "Please," she pleads with a wounded tongue and with lips that have only slightly healed. "Please, make them stop."
Any sense of hunger left runs out of me, replaced with pity. My own voice sounds pained as I pull a towel from the rack and reply, "I told you, Marina. I told you." I approach the ghoul slowly.
She brandishes the rod, her feet slipping under her as she tries to stand. "Madelyn, please. Tell him to make them stop."
My brow furrows. "I can't." I reach for the shower rod, pulling it from Marina's terrified, grasping hands. I set it on the floor and climb into the tub with her, holding the towel out. "I'll protect you, though."
Marina grabs onto the towel, and then clutched at my arms. "Tell him! Tell him to make them stop, Madelyn. He listens to you. Please."
Her words send a pang of agony through my chest. My words are weak and shuddering as I reply, "Shh, it's alright." I move to sit in the tub with the other woman, pulling her close to me and wrapping the towel around her. I pet her hair, keeping my tone soft and comforting. "I'm sorry, Marina. I'll protect you, OK?"

The woman shakes in my arms, her skin covered in goosebumps and bruises. I tuck the edges of the towel under her, as she stares up at me, the wounds on her face healing quickly. "Madelyn, when will I go back to normal? When is it going to stop?"
I meet her eyes, before forcing my own closed. "Soon." I sigh, fighting overwhelming exhaustion. "I promise."
Marina continues talking in a terrified tone. "I wish I'd never met him, I want to be who I was, Madelyn. Just make me normal, again. Just let me go back to the way it was." She continues to shake, silently.
I frown, eyes still closed, smoothing Marina's hair from her face. "Just..." I force air from my lungs. "Just sleep. It'll be safer for you." The ghoul trembles in my arms, but remains silent. Even with my eyes closed, her fearful expression and torn face haunt me. It's replaced with Sailix's anger and hurt as he pulls his wounded hand from mine. Tommy, clapping a hand over the claw marks in his features. Alex struggling fruitlessly under me as I clamp my teeth into his shoulder. I quickly forget Marina's anguish and drown in my own, my arms falling away from the ghoul as I regress into sleep, into an escape from the inescapable.

https://youtu.be/AKNo3J4daDk

Hard and silent but, softy breaking. No beloved to comfort me.

I don't realize that I'm already home until I trip on the front steps. My already scraped up shins bang against the porch. Unconcerned, I move to a sitting position and lean against the rail, wincing as the engine shaped burn on my back presses into the wood. After a few minutes, I head Gadzooks' small whine, and the sound of her pawing at the door. Everything else in the house is quiet. Everyone else. I squeeze my eyes shut, hands held limp at my sides.

"..Ms. DeWittier.."
"...she's a guard dog.."

Never have I ever felt such dread from my name on someone's lips. I move my arms around myself, holding tightly to try to control my shakes. He knows my name. He can call me to him...he can control me. I ignore Gadzooks' more persistent whimpers. No. No, he can't. I'm not dead, I'm not a ghost. My jaw clenches shut like my eyes. But he can call me to him. Like he did with Tommy. Like he did with Sailix. My minor wounds are nothing compared to the ache in my heart.

"God dammit Madelyn, come down from your high horse!"

I still smell Sailix's blood on my claws, but any anger I mustered against him is long gone. Replaced by hurt, by loneliness, by betrayal. My hands, clamped into fists at my sides, long to turn on me. To bring to the surface enough physical pain to distract me from the war in my head. I want Tommy to wake up. I need his guidance. His punishment.

"Thomas is ours."

The voice is so real that I leap from the porch, nearly barreling Gadzooks over as I rush into the house. I dart upstairs and into the bedroom. Tommy still lies in the same position I left him in when night fell. His chest slightly more healed, his expression blank. I silently curse the tears that escape, wondering how there can even be any left in me. Pressing my hands against my chest, I move to his side of the bed. "I...I love you Tommy." My tears spot his cheek as I bend forward and kiss his unresponsive lips. The smell of his blood makes my mouth water, and I quickly turn away, wrapping my arms around myself again. I want so badly for it to be someone else's arms around me, but there's no one. Nothing. Just like I deserve. I'm so tired.

I take off my filthy, torn up hoodie and toss it onto the bathroom floor. Gadzooks yips and jumps on me, desperate for my attention. I kneel to pick her up, but stop in mid motion. The dog's innocent eyes stare up at me with adoration, but it repels me instead of engaging me. She only loves me because she has to. Because my blood runs in her veins. Even that fact doesn't make me feel any less guilty as I shoo her gently from the bathroom, closing the door on her confused face. She whimpers by the door, and it presses against the frame slightly as she lays down in the hallway. Averting my eyes from the mirror as I pass, I crawl into the bathtub, curling into a ball at the bottom of the cold porcelain. Before sleep takes over, I slip one of my socks off, stuffing it between my jaws, hoping the gag is enough to muffle the screams from my inevitable nightmares.

https://youtu.be/XNot0KYfMJA

This was never my world you took the angel away. I'd kill myself to make everybody pay.

I sit up in the bed, arms wrapped around my knees as I stare down at Tommy's inert form. He still hasn't woken up, and it's only the brief response I had from his thoughts that keeps me from losing my mind completely and hunting down Bernito. Or Tony. Or whoever it is that did this to him. I lift his limp hand from the bed, resting my cheek against his cold skin. He doesn't respond, and I'm disappointed even though I didn't expect him to. I look down to the wound on his chest and flinch. It looks better since I've cleaned it and since he's had time to heal, but the skin is still raw and painful looking. From her spot at the foot of the bed, Gadzooks whimpers in her sleep, her paws twitching slightly. My eyelids feel heavy, and glancing at the clock, I realize it's already noon. "I should probably try to sleep." 

There's no reply from the torpid vampire, or the sleeping dog, unsurprisingly. I lay down next to Tommy, placing my head in the crook of his shoulder and his arm around my back. His arm falls back onto the mattress as soon as I let go of his hand. I stare up into his blank face, frowning. "I'll fix this for you, Tommy. OK? I'll fix this for us." Forcing a breath through my lungs, I fight down the threatening tears and press my face against his shoulder. "No matter what, I'll make sure that you survive this. I'll do what I have to..." Gadzooks growls in her sleep as my voice changes, becoming almost bestial. "Kill who I have to." There's still no change in Tommy's expression. "Sailix and I will start tomorrow. The Sabbat...we'll talk to Zaahir and Shackles..." I curl tighter around his body. "We'll talk to...I'll talk to Odessa and Torsten..." The fight with tears is lost as I think about leading my friends into a war. Losing more people I care about. For Tommy. For Tommy. My tears still trail down my cheeks as I fall asleep clinging to Tommy's body.

The hooded, bundled figure trudges closer. The sewer stink surrounding his clothing is overwhelming, but I stand my ground as Vogtman crosses the yard. "You can't have him." I state, my voice sounding more brave than I feel. From behind me, safe on the porch, Gadzooks barks at the creature.
He chuckles, the sound a stark contrast to his putrid appearance. His voice comes out clearly, articulate with an Irish lilt. "He's already ours, but what about you? What about you, little spirit?" 
I shrink back, involuntarily. Of course I know that Bernito knows what I am. Or was. I didn't consider the rest of the circle knowing as well. The Vogtman's tongue creeps out, tasting the air, tasting my scent in the air. I hear quiet growling at my side and before I can stop her, Gadzooks charges at him. A puny, black projectile heading straight to the arms of a beast. "No! Gadzooks, come back! Come back!" My shouting turns to a shriek as Vogtman's hands dart out and snatch the little dog off the ground. Gadzooks struggles fiercely and fruitlessly, yipping in pain as she's squeezed between his palms. Her terrified bay and my own scream meld together as Vogtman clamps his jaws and teeth around Gadzooks' neck, hers being cut short when he rips her throat out in a spout of blood. I press my clenched fists against my lips, horrified as he tosses her spent corpse into the grass. Before I can scream again, I'm choking on the smell of his foulness and the feeling of his tongue wrapped around my neck and mouth. Clawing at the layers of his clothing, I can't even scream as I feel my flesh under his clutching tongue rotting away the skin to the muscle beneath. I fall against the stairs, pinned by his bulk and unable to fight as muscle gives way to bone, the last sound being the disintegration and separation of my spine as

I wake with a jolt, quickly jamming the side of my hand into my mouth to stifled a scream. Gasping needlessly, I roll away from Tommy before I can disturb him. Gadzooks climbs over my lap, licking my face and struggling to give me some sort of comfort. Confident that I've got myself at least slightly in control, I pull my shaking hand from my mouth and gently set her on the floor. A glance at the clock tells me I only managed an hour of thoroughly unwell sleep. Exhausted, frightened and forlorn, I turn to Tommy. His body is still, unresponsive, inattentive and utterly comatose. I move to him, taking both of his hands as my tears splash onto his bare skin. "Tommy, please. Please wake up! Please, you promised! I need you...please I can't do this without you Tommy!" There's no reply at all, and the only assuagement I receive are his cold and still hands in my own. I stare at him for awhile, the tears eventually tapering off. Settling his hands back down, I slide off the bed and order Gadzooks to stay, petting her head before I exit the room.

My feet drag as I cross the hallway, peering into the spare bedroom where Marina is still sprawled across an old mattress. She snores lightly, looking worse for wear but deep asleep, regardless. I turn away from the smell of her blood and warmth and make myself move down the stairs. Reaching the kitchen, I listen at the basement door. It's silent, and I assume that Sailix is also fast asleep. Lifting myself onto the counter, I rest my head against the cabinets, keeping my eyes forced open as the long daytime hours slip away to night.

https://youtu.be/jDO2TrYdM70

I know that you've been damaged, your soul has suffered such abuse. But I am not your savior.

I keep up the facade. Even as I watch the people I love settle into what is little more than a death pact. I keep up the facade as I lay Tommy in our bed. His pained and tired expression terrifies me more than the raw, charred flesh across his chest. I kiss him and comfort him and apologize to him. I keep up the facade as he sleeps, taking only the slightest relief at the temporary peace that stays across his features. My eyes remain open, despite the sun that rises on the other side of windowless walls. I know the horrors of the night will only be repeated tenfold in my nightmares. When I slide off the bed, I hear a small yawn and the quiet thump of a wagging tail. Gadzooks stretches on the bed, preparing to follow me. "No, stay. Stay with Tommy." Her head cocks to the side, but she sits back down, heeding my command. "Good girl."

I cross the bedroom, my bare feet making no noise on the scant carpeting. Even in the dark, I find the door with ease, opening it and shuddering at the feel of cold tile. My hand feels along the wall until I find a light switch. The bathroom floods with light, and the first thing I see is my own corrupt, gaping reflection. A sickened moan escapes from my lips as I clutch at the edge of the sink, unable or unwilling to take my eyes off of the mirror. I pry a hand from the porcelain, pressing my palm against the silvered face of glass. It doesn't change. I move my hand to my face, feeling my features, feeling the furrowed brow and curve of a frown.

That's how they all see you. The beast matches you perfectly.

Dropping to the floor, I'm spared myself of my own monstrous reflection. My claws extend, tearing at the flesh of my chest. I need to pain to distract me. To divert my attention from my failures. Tommy in pain. In agony, as the strangers faces look on. A familiar expression from an unfamiliar face. Sailix's pain and struggle. I make sure the link between our minds is closed tight, knowing the Assamite is likely as sleepless as I am. He mourns his children, anguishes over their fate.

And you willingly offered yours up as a sacrifice. As an experiment.

I yearn for consolation from Pyotr or MacAllister. I could never deserve such caring father figures, but they bring me solace, regardless. I want my dad.

You are no ones daughter. Dead twice over, no one will claim you as kin.

My claws scrabble against bone, and I force my bloody hand into my lap. More blood wells from my clenched fist as I fight the urge to dig deeper, but I refuse to disturb Alex. All that I have left of him. A soft keening echoes against the tile. I want him. I want his arms around me. I want his warmth and his assurance that I am worth something.

Alex would be ashamed of you. Disgusted, even.

I'm ashamed of me. Because I know. Because I will lead all of my friends into a war. Into death. Because my choice is everyone, or Tommy. And I can't save everyone. I won't. Tommy chooses him over me, and I choose Tommy over everyone.

You will fail. Tommy will die in your arms and you won't even have time to mourn before the rest of them die, too.

"No."

I can't even cry anymore. There's not enough energy left in me. I'm so tired. So tired. I can't. I should be dead. I should be bones in a coffin. I should be ash in the dirt. I should be at peace. I should be so many things, but instead I am this monster. This monster that fights for what she loves. This monster that fights what she should be. What she is.

I force myself to my feet, dripping blood over the clean tile. I leave a red stain as I spin the knob of the door. Another as I switch the light off. I hear Gadzook's soft snore, and the continued silence from Tommy's undisturbed sleep. I climb back into the bed, laying stiff and disquieted. I want to curl against Tommy, but I'm afraid of disturbing him. I want to keep my distance, but I'm afraid of leaving him without my protection. The wound on my chest gapes open, but the resulting pain is unsatisfying. I'm so tired, but there is no graceful drift to slumber. The morning forces itself further, as a unrelenting, inescapable hand that pushes me under the ocean of nightmares that awaits.

https://youtu.be/FmIEbhW7VNE

I've been looking for a way to bring you back to life. And if I could find a way, then I would bring you back tonight.

I limp out to the back porch, Gadzooks following at my heels. Settling on the steps, I take a moment to brood and heal my injuries while Tommy prepares the rest of my punishment. Absently stroking Gadzooks' fur as she tries to lick the dried blood from my hand, I stare out into the woods. The images from my nightmares still haunt me, mixing with the residual fear that somehow Bernito will find us. That he'll find Tommy and take him from me. Horrific, if he takes him forcefully, more horrific still if Tommy goes willingly. I draw my knees up, hiding my face against them. My thoughts are full of masks of flesh and Ferris wheels. I try to clear my head enough to hear Tommy when he inevitably summons me back into the house. Gadzooks barks once at my side, and I shush her. She barks again, a curious sound, rather than alarmed. I move my arm enough to glance down at her. She stares intently down into the yard, and lifting my head, I follow her line of sight. A male figure comes from the woods, his hair and eyes dark, his skin tan. My heart seems to both leap and drop, simultaneously. I don't rise from the step, simply settling on leaning forward, taking in the sight, regardless of its actuality.

"Alex." I state, simply.
The apparition stops near the porch, staring up at me. His expression seems conflicted, torn between pleasure and anger and settling on the latter. His anger shames me, but I don't dare drop my eyes, wanting to absorb every moment I can. His face is the same, his clothes are the same, and his voice is the same as he chastises me. "You know...this is exactly the opposite of what I want for you."
I frown, pulling my knees tighter to my chest and wincing at the tenderness there. "That's not fair to say, Alex. I'm doing the best I can considering..." My eyes well with tears.
His expression falters, some of the anger seeming to dissipate. "Madelyn. This isn't your best. This is nowhere near your best. I've seen your best firsthand, and..."
I cut him off, my own voice loud and petulant. "No! Don't say that! That isn't fair!" Gadzooks yips and runs behind me to cower under the porch bench. "You're gone. You...you died and you left me alone. If Tommy hadn't been there, I would be dead too. And you know damned right that I wouldn't end up the same place as you." Alex just stares at me, his expression rife with skepticism. "Tommy loves me. Not in the same way you do..." I drop my gaze for a moment, pausing. "The way you did. But, in his own way. He takes care of me."

Alex steps forward a little, then stops with a frown, moving back to his original spot. My hand creeps up to my chest, pressing over my sternum as if to alleviate the agony there. He watches this, his voice pained as he responds. "Stockholm syndrome, Madelyn. I've told you so many times. He doesn't care, he just uses you as an outlet for his own sadistic...bullshit! If he loves you, it's only because of your blood." He appears regretful of his words when a hurt whimper escapes my lips. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...I don't want to hurt you."
I wipe at my face. "S'fine. I guess out of anyone, you have the most right to hate Tommy. I.." I trail off, staring at Alex, knowing he's not really there and aching to touch him, regardless.
His stance seems to mirror my own yearning. "I wish I could hold you," he whispers. His eyes meet mine, sad and sorrowful. "I miss you so much." I rise to my feet, wiping splinters from the back of the ridiculous schoolgirl uniform Tommy put on me. Alex smirks at little when I stand. "You look really cute tonight."
I watch Gadzooks as she creeps from beneath the bench, hopping down the wooden stairs and approaching Alex cautiously. "I love you, you know." 
"I know," he responds, bending down to pet the dog. She wags slightly, sniffing his sneakers and looking to me for approval. Alex scratches behind her ears and straightens up. "It'd be better if you got a cat." 

The statement is so perfectly Alex, that I find myself giggling, covering my face as I laugh through my tears. I hear Gadzooks climb back up the stairs and when I drop my hands again, Alex is gone. My chest throbs dully, and I know that he wasn't really there. That he never will be, again. Instead of crushing sadness, I feel angry. Furious, even. The people that did this, that took him from me...they still live. The bastards that hurt me so badly, both physically and emotionally, got away unscathed. I pace in short circles, periodically glancing towards the house and wracking my brain for a way to find them. As if summoned by my thoughts, my phone goes off. I look at the sender, reading the message with a furrowed brow. OK. This could be progress. I hear Tommy's voice beckoning from inside the house. Risking his ire, I take a moment to type out a response. As I hit send, he swings the door open, his expression thunderous. Plucking my phone from my hand, he commands, "Now," punctuating his command with a hard swat to my behind. Pausing only long enough to allow Gadzooks to run in before me, earning another swat in the process, I enter the house and prepare for my punishment.

https://youtu.be/xJtBYAKBByk

In spite of a warnin' voice that comes in the night and repeats, repeats in my ear: Don't you know, little fool, you never can win?

I'm awake before the sun sets, and awake before Tommy. Gadzooks is still curled by my feet, paws twitching gently. I prop myself on one elbow and wait for Tommy to wake. His sleeping expression is a stark contrast from the usual, without put-on or performance. I reach out and stroke the hint of gray at his temples. My fingertips only graze the strands of his hair before he catches my hand and presses my knuckles to his mouth. His lips are cold and dry. Almost sheepishly, I whisper: "Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you." He doesn't respond, simply throwing the covers off and rising inelegantly to his feet. He knocks into the side of the bed, jostling the mattress. Gadzooks wakes up with a yip, her ears flattening to her head. I pet her, offering comfort, but she jumps off the bed to retreat to the corner. I ignore her low growl and look back to Tommy. My brow furrows as I watch him pace, his movements cumbersome at first, then slowly more fluid. "Tommy? Are you OK?" I slide off the bed, approaching him tentatively. "Sir?" I add, in case I've displeased him. His gaze lands on me, depth-less and almost oppressive. I shrink back slightly as he reaches out, his hand settling solidly on the back of my neck. Pulling me closer, he says my name, the three syllables sounding harsh and alien from his lips. The close proximity makes my nose wrinkle, the powdery scent of Tommy's flesh becoming overwhelming.

From the corner, Gadzooks begins barking, the sound sharp and staccato in the otherwise silent room. I open my mouth to shush her, quickly closing it again as Tommy turns his harsh glare to the dog. His eyes seem to burn with a frightful strength, sending Gadzooks running from the room with her tail tucked tightly between her legs. Without looking back to me, Tommy's hand tightens its grasp, sliding against my skin and under my collar. He fingers the charm dangling against my throat, face turning and eyes settling on the inscription. I keep my body still, wary of rousing a temper in him and glad that there are no visible signs of my anxiety. As he traces his thumb over the words, his mouth tightens into a straight, stern line. Elevating his gaze to my face, his eyes bore into my own. Anxiety breeds terror as Tommy chants in another language, gesturing in the air with his free hand. I try to pull back but his grip is firm. Feeling some supernal force pull at me, I strike out at him, knocking his hand away and swiping my nails across his face. He curses, almost taciturn, turning his face from my view as I make space between us.

Safe on the other side of the room, the bed a barrier between Tommy and I, I spit out "What the...what the fuck, Tommy?!" He turns to face me, strips of his flesh hanging from his visage. My hand slaps across my mouth, my expression aghast. Under the torn flesh, shades of deathly pallor show through. His skin seems to hang loosely, as if knocked askew from his body. My gut churns, dread seeping from my very pores. "...no. No, please.." He reaches up, hooking his fingers under the shredded flesh and peeling it back. Tommy's face distorts as the sinews stretch and tear. Under the mask of skin, the face is corpse-like and impassive, the eyes staring into mine as he continues to slough off flesh. Tommy's scalp is drawn back, exposing long dark hair greased down with reddish fluid. Crawling over the bed, Bernito tosses the remains of Tommy's face onto the floor, his own features exposed through a layer of gore. The skin gathered around his neck puddles and sags as he lurches closer. I retreat until my back hits the wall, terrified tears trailing down my cheeks. Petrified, I can't even grow my claws as Bernito closes in. He reeks of dirt and viscera as his hand closes around my throat once more. I grab halfheartedly at the appendage, my hands unable to gain purchase as his skin slips loosely over the muscle underneath. He resumes chanting, and I shriek through my constricted airway as my soul is ripped from my body.

The Master wakes me up with her sounds. She's scared again. Scared bad. She hasn't been scared for awhile, and she is again. It smells so bad. My Master's claws are long, and I hide from them. I move to the Man, my tail and ears low. He is scary and mean, but my Master needs him. Master would be sad if I wake her and make myself hurt. I push my muzzle at the man, whining at the cold feeling on my nose. My Master moans and groans, making pain sounds. I match the sounds with my whine, and put my teeth on the Man's hand. He moves his hand a little, so I bite. His hand hurts when it hits at me, but my Master's scream hurts us both. The Man sits up, worried for my Master. He touches her, says her name, and I wag nervously. She wakes up, and her face is animal scared. Prey scared. I jump from the bed, cowering as she screams at the Man. He says more words to her, says her name more. He touches her and her scream hurts my ears. My Master's claws hurt the Man, and I whine at the smell of blood, fear and bad dog.

My shriek is loud enough to hurt my own ears, but I know he's still here. There's a quick and graceful movement at the side of the bed, and gun in hand, Bernito glares at me through Tommy's visage. My lips draw back from my teeth in a snarl as he stows away his gun, offering his open hands in supplication. "What's wrong little one?" His voice is full of pseudo concern that enrages, rather than assuages.
Terrified, I shriek at him. "I'm not going back to what I was!" I hear Gadzooks whimper from the floor as I move with unnatural speed and rake my claws across his face, wanting to expose the monster for who he really is. Bernito falls back, hitting his head against the wall and sliding down to slump ungainly to a sitting position. He lifts his left hand, covering the gaping wound. I stop in the midst of drawing my hand back to swipe again, catching a familiar scent from the dripping claws. I bring them closer to my face, absorbing the unmistakable odor of Tommy's blood. Horrified at my actions, I lower my hand, compulsively wiping it across my shorts. Covering my mouth with my clean hand, I try to blink away the tears welling in my eyes. "Tommy? I...oh god. I thought....I thought you were him again." Tommy's face twists and distorts as his emotions churn between rage, confusion and concern. The tears spill over as I rip away a piece of my shirt, lowering to a kneel and holding the balled up fabric towards his face. "I'm so sorry...I dreamed that..." I can't force myself to speak the nightmare aloud. I open the link between Tommy's thoughts and my own, sharing the horror with him. He rises to his feet, opening his arms to me in a swift, decisive manner. I ignore his awaiting embrace, rising as well. Dabbing gently at the claw marks in his flesh, I whisper a endless flow of apologies. The torrent of conflicting emotions across his face frighten me, and I flinch as I quietly inquire, "Are you angry with me?" His expression seems to settle on disgust as I tend to his wounds. Dropping my eyes, I complete my task, wringing the bloody rag between my fists. "I'm sorry..." I repeat, to no response. "Do you need to...do you want some of my blood?" He places his hand at the back of my head without a word. I stare at the drops of red that fall and stain my socks, my voice growing desperate. "I could sleep in the bathtub if you'd rather..."

Tommy's expression is without change as he twists his hand into my hair, pulling me to the side of the bed. I move willingly, despite my trembling. A small, fruitless growl comes from the floor, and I silently hope that Tommy doesn't take his anger out on Gadzooks. He pushes me into the mattress, pressing my face against the sheets and gripping at my hip with his free hand. I remain quiet and complacent, knowing I deserve whatever punishment he deems necessary. I hear him calmly state, "I love you, little one." as he holds me in place. Mouth full of mattress, I don't respond as he continues, "I forgive you, little one. You can satiate me tomorrow morning, but I forgive you." 
His words bring a small, muffled whimper to my lips. Gadzooks discontinues her steady growl, seemingly just as placated. Tommy's hands release their grasp on me, and I can practically hear his fists clench. I straighten my stance and only glance at his face before flinching away. Climbing onto the bed, I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Risking another inquiry, but not willing to break the silence with my own prattling, I speak into Tommy's thoughts. "Will you come back to bed with me?"

Tommy replies, out loud, "In a moment. Just sleep." He leans a hand against the wall, the other pressed against his forehead.

I burrow into the blankets and whisper, "Yes...yes, sir." Gadzooks hops up onto the bed, curling into a ball by my feet. I watch Tommy from over the top of the covers as he stands, still, silent and stoic.

After a few moments, he lowers his hand from his face, wiping the blood from his palm onto the wall. He returns to our bed, laying stiff over the covers. His back and nape offer no comfort, and he does not move to face me. I stare at the back of his head, as my pillow grows increasing more damp. After awhile, maybe after he's fallen back asleep, I turn away from him. Gadzooks crawls unobtrusively further up the bed, nestling against my chest as I succumb to sleep and its torments once more.

https://youtu.be/C1AHec7sfZ8

I'll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons.

The smell of my new Master comes strong, and I follow it to a warm room. Nosing the door open, I see Master and the Man. They say words I don't understand, so I sit and wait to be wanted. My Master is strong and frightening, but she shows her belly to the Man. The Man commands her, and my Master submits as the Man offers his throat. My nose twitches and I smell the same food that the Master fed me earlier in the night. I'm hungry, and I breathe through my muzzle. They ignore me. The Man grabs my Master hard with his hands, and I can smell that she's afraid. My teeth show. Fear is sour. I am small and weak, but I want to protect my Master. Sniffing, sour mixes with sweet. She does not fight the man, despite her fear. She gives him affection. The smells make my nose sting. I whimper. They ignore me. I back away, towards a dark place with fabric that smells of dirt and blood and beast. Crawling under the fabric, I paw at my muzzle and wait to be wanted.

Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, I look down at Tommy. He seems pleased, the wound on his throat healing as he whispers, "Good girl."
I kiss him lightly and move to my side of the bed. Glancing and sniffing towards the closet, I smile, even as my brow furrows. "Tommy?" I don't wait for his response. "Could she sleep in the bed with me? With...us?" My head tilts towards the sound of shuffling from the closet.
Tommy touches the collar buckled around my neck. "Of course, little one."
I smile, almost giddy as I call towards the closet door, "Gadzooks! C'mere girl, it's OK."
Distracted by his phone, Tommy offhandedly replies, "You named it?"
A small, furry form crawls out of a pile of clothing, a pair of stockings trailing behind it, wrapped around it's tail. "Well, yeah. She's gotta have a name..." I move to the edge of the mattress, patting the comforter next to me. "Up Gadzooks! Up!" 
She wags, coming closer and rising onto her hind legs, front paws pressing into the bed. My hand reaches out, hesitant at first as I expect her to flinch away. She doesn't and I scratch the white patch on her chest. "Good girl." Grasping her under her front legs, I pull her onto my lap. "Good girl Gadzooks, are you ready for bed?" Rambling, I continue, "You probably don't understand anything I'm saying. It's OK. I'll learn. I have Troy or MacAllister teach me how to talk to you."
Setting her onto the bed, I turn to Tommy, enthusiastically kissing him. "Thank you, Tommy. Thank you for her, thank you for everything..." I rest my head against his stone chest, closing my eyes and smiling as I feel Gadzooks curl warm and soft behind my knees.

My Master and the Man are asleep. It's cold, but I'm warm and the room is safe. I stay close to my Master as she sleeps. She moves and makes small noises in her sleep, but the Man stays silent and still. The room smells sour again, and I whine quietly. My Master moans. She's scared, sad, bad. I push my nose under her hand, but she pulls away. Panting nervously, I can't understand what my Master dreams. She says a name. Not Gadzooks. Not the Man. She says it again and I try to remember, try to smell something. My Master says the name again. She cries. The Man isn't awake, so I crawl forward and taste my Master's face. I lick the salt on her face and I try to remember the name so I can make my Master happy. So I can find who owns the name and make them make my Master happy. I lick her face and her hand grabs me and I'm afraid like when I saw the monster. But my Master is gentle and her eyes open. She is confused, not as sour, not as scared. She pets me and says my name. Her face is still sad. I lick her and press my muzzle against her. Her eyes are closing but she pets me and nuzzles my fur. The smells stop hurting my nose, and the room feels safe again. My Master sleeps. The Man sleeps. I stay awake and protect her.

https://youtu.be/lrEP3RPgEao