I drove throughout my hometown; Cloud City, Georgia, witnessing the advertisements, the people, and the injustice of modern-day America, just to get back to my apartment. The drive back home is almost never peaceful. The horns blaring, the cursing, the occasional shootout in the street. It may be bad for a normal human, but if it happens to a possession, and the rabbit hole only gets deeper if it’s a beastkin possession. It’s almost a badge that says; shoot on sight.
I slow to a stop at a red light and sigh. I look to my right as I hear a small commotion to see a few normal humans holding up signs and protesting.
There’s only white men and women screaming about beastkins. “Get them out of our country! They don’t deserve to be here! Beastkins are the creation of the devil!” My mood worsens as I witness what’s going on. My focus pinpoints on a man with a megaphone who seems to be leading the protest. My hand begins to glow as my thoughts fixate on the prejudice against my kind. I could burn all of you into crisps. You are nothing, but a stain on this earth. I could kill your whole group of protesters and I’d get a metal from the beastkin community. My thoughts become increasingly hostile as my right-hand bursts into flames.
As my anger cultivates, I am taken out of my daze by the sound of several blaring horns, as I realize the light has turned green. I drove the rest of the way silently, attempting to calm myself from almost losing control. I pull up to a beaten down subsection of my city. There’s nothing but homeless people, gangbangers and beastkins. We keep our distance from each other, but occasionally the beastkins have run-ins with the gangbangers, and it ends violently. I try to keep my distance from both parties, it keeps my ass from getting shipped into a secluded desert and being tested on.
I step out of my car and see an older possessed human with gray hair, a plump body and a kind smile. “Hi there, Ski. How was your interview?” It’s Mrs. Ragamist. She’s a kind old lady. She tends to greet me and check on me, when I stay in my room for too long.
I give a kind smile as my ears perk up a bit. “Hey Mrs. Ragamist, how’s the family?”
She gives her trademark smile. “Well, I’m doing perfectly fine. My back is doing great today. Blaze is still reeling from her divorce, and my brother was finally laid to rest this afternoon.”
My smile fades as I remember. Her brother was killed in a shootout between police and the local gangbangers. It’s sad, he was such a great person. The government didn’t even have the kindness to give her money for consolation. That’s what the government does. It rapes us of our rights, mocks us, tortures us, kills us, and expects us to pay them.
I feel an arm on my shoulder and calm voice. “Ski, it’s okay. He’s finally resting, you don’t have to get so angry.”
I come out of my thoughts to realize that my arms were glowing with heat, and Mrs. Ragamist was comforting me. “I’m sorry… it’s been happening lately. I’ve been getting caught in my thoughts.”
She gave another calm smile as my arms came back to normal temperature. “It’s okay, I understand.” Her smile faded as she looked back at her apartment then turned back to me. “Listen Ski, I hope your interview changes at least some hearts and minds. We could use some sympathy in the worl-“
The sound of a gun shot echoes throughout the parking lot, and Mrs. Ragamist’s hand loosen’s its grip from my shoulder as she begins to lose her balance. Blood begins to seep out of her temple. My eyes widen as I look to my left to see four gangbangers aiming at me. My expression of disbelief turns to apathy.
I catch Mrs. Ragamist and lay her body down in front of my car, before walking towards the gangsters. “Ay yo, we heard that yo ass got on the news. Who knew those white mofos listened to dirty bitches like you?”
My steps went to a steady rhythm and my voice was quite and low. “Why..?” My arms began to glow once again.
They begin to mock me. “Lil’ bitch say what?”
The volume of my voice raises suddenly. “WHY?!” I felt tears roll out of my eyes then evaporate as the glow from my arms had burst into a blaze of bright orange flames.
The internal fire in me had grew into an uncontrollable blaze. My emotions began running wild. They kill a sweet old lady, who was taking care of her daughter. And act like it’s a fucking joke? I can’t take this anymore. I’m gonna burn these goddamned normies to a fucking crisp!
As I thought that, the gangsters had begun shooting. A bullet grazes my arm, causing my body to cover the wound. I knew more gunshots were coming and expected my end to be beside Mrs. Ragamist.
I stood there for a moment with my eyes closed. I opened my eyes expecting to see an ethereal realm, but, in fact, it was something frightening.
Mrs. Ragamist had a black figure with a hood holding a large black scythe with all four gangbangers stuck to the end of it like a kabob, surrounding her. The anger I had was transformed into disbelief as I witnessed this.
The black figure then dissipates into a black fog and the gangbangers with it. Mrs. Ragamist then walks towards me with a bright smile on her face and laughs. “I’m a possession, son. Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I’m defenseless.” She then makes her way up to her apartment. “Until next time, Ski.”
I smile a little and laugh as she enters her apartment. I begin to make my way up to my apartment with a small grin on my face, then a voice rings in my head. “Why are ya smilin’?”
I freeze for a moment before remembering that my possessor can talk to me through my thoughts. It just gives me a bit of relief that Mrs. Ragamist isn’t going to die by the hands of some unimportant idiot with a gun.
I walk into my apartment to see my beat down, messed up home. Sheet rock from the walls have fallen onto the floors, exposing the frame and insulation of the rooms, mice and bugs have ravaged and tattered the carpet flooring with poop pellets and unfinished food, which have turned it from its original light brown color into an unpleasant multi-colored mess, that produces a smell equally atrocious.
I begin to walk into the kitchen, which is the only room other than mine, that I try to keep decently clean. The floors are a patterned cream color, that gives off a slight sheen. The walls are plywood, with a dark stain coat on them which keeps bugs and mice from eating into them. The countertops are dark brown with a wood finish, with white cabinets to counter the color. The room is complete with a midline refrigerator, microwave, stove, dishwasher, a small deep fryer, and a pot rack, mounted to the ceiling, in the middle of the room to keep the bugs from getting into the pots, pans, and my favorite wok.
I grab a small pot, from above, a ramen packet from one of the cabinets, and a bag of discounted frozen vegetables. I boil the ramen and the vegetables together, drain the water, put it all into a bowl, add soy sauce, grab a fork from the utensil drawer next to the kitchen sink, and walk across from the kitchen to a set of stairs leading up to my room.
I enter a bare room on one side with the exception of a, less than tidy, bed. The other side of the room housed a large 50” UHD Television, an older model PlayStation 4, a newer model Xbox One, a desk with a dual screen set up for a custom PC built by designer Nicholas Kersey.
I walk towards the desk and sit down, putting the bowl of ramen to the far right of the desk, minimizing the danger of a spill on the keyboard or CPU. The interview should be up about now. The time was 5:00. I turned on YouTube TV and switched the channel to Channel 14 and broadcasted the program to my TV via Chromecast.
I began taking off my suit, to reveal my not-so-chiseled body. I’m not fat by any means, but I don’t have a six-pack, nor do I have huge bulging muscles, but I am decently muscular, and my body is a bit vascular.
I throw on a gray V-neck and some faded jeans, grab my ramen and lay back on my bed to watch the interview, in which, about 5 minutes into the show, I go to sleep getting a well-earned rest.
I wake up to the sound of my doorbell. I jump up, and rush down stairs, while trying to button and zip my jeans. I reach the door to see Mrs. Ragamist standing there.
“Hello, once again, Ski. I wanted to ask you a private question. May I come in?” She gives her trademark smile, as she stands with her hands behind her back.
I open the door up wider to let her in. “You may. We can talk in the kitchen. The living room is always a mess.”
She smiles and walks through, making her way to the kitchen, as I close the door behind her and myself, then follow her to the kitchen. “I know you don’t know much about me, Ski, but I’d like to offer you a job opportunity.” She props her self up against a counter top, as I make my way in and lean against the refrigerator.
“Huh?” I was taken aback. Of anything out of her mouth, I was expecting do you want some apple pie, or a date with her daughter, an offer which I would kindly decline, because her daughter is crazy as fuck.
Her head cocks to its side. “You don’t want it? You haven’t even heard what it is yet.”
“No, No, No. That’s not what I meant. I just wasn’t expecting to hear that from you.” I try to mend the situation, as I feel that I’ve offended her somehow.
“Ah, okay, well it’s with the military in a branch called the W.O.L.F. Corps. I was once a recruit with them.” Her smile fades and a serious expression falls over her face, changing the mood of the room.
“… W.O.L.F. Corps?” My eyebrow raises out of curiosity and a slight amount of doubt. “What are they? What do they do?”
“It’s a highly trained group of possessions that keeps the worlds of possessions and possessors in check. They overthrow unjust uprisings around different worlds, create uprisings when needed, rescue those who need to be rescued, and kill those who pose a threat to our world, but as of late the current commander of W.O.L.F. Corps has started to become a tyrant. I thought that maybe, if you would join, you could calm him down or even oust him from the wolves.”
I slouched to express my disbelief, and my doubt grew exponentially. “So… what your saying is that there’s more than one world that we as possessions can go, and that I can join the government in ruling over more than just this realms injustice against possessions? Sign me up! Not.”
She sighs and looks me in the eye. “I figured you’d say that, so I thought about another organization that might want you. It’s called Lynx.”
I jokingly guessed, because my doubt was slowly turning into disrespect. “Let me guess. It’s a group of people that are trying to liberate possessions while also tackling injustice in the world…s?”
Her eyebrows raise. “Yes, that, and the fact that their two biggest threats are W.O.L.F. Corps and Darwin’s Vision. I’m not a huge proponent of Lynx, but they’re a good team, and they aren’t strangers to beastkins like yourself, so I feel that you’d fit right in.”
“I’m not completely sure what day it is, because if this is an April Fools joke, I’d like you to leave right now, because this sounds too outlandish to be true.”
“I assure you, Ski, it isn’t an April Fools joke. This is real, and it may be a shot at creating some equality between possessions and the normal humans.” Her eyebrows curl up, as she extends her hand to me. “What do you say?”
The final pitch of equality grabs my attention. She’s been trustworthy the whole time I’ve lived here. I have no reason not to trust her, and from seeing her abilities as a fighter, she isn’t lying about the military part. I sigh, close my eyes, and grab her hand. “Okay, I’m damn near homeless anyway, what have I got to lose?”
She smiles, then pulls me towards her, moving her other arm across her body. As my body approaches hers, her other hand creates a long rod from black fog, which she then uses to plunge into my solar plexus. She lets go of my hand and grabs the rod as it completes a transformation into a scythe. She then uses the side of the rod without a blade to slam against my head, disorienting me. The room begins to blur as all I can see are vague colors with a few black dots scattered in between. I lean against the wall of the kitchen, and I begin to regain my vision, only to see Mrs. Ragamist approaching me with the black scythe on her shoulder. I feel her hand on my right shoulder with something in between it. “W-why?”
I then feel a piercing pain in a vein in my neck. “I’m sorry, Ski, I promise this will be worth it in the end.
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