I was standing on the doorstep of some guy's cabin with cuffs on my hands, a muzzle on my face, and a shock collar on my neck. Three men in suits stood around me in case I tried to escape while five more waited in a nearby vehicle. It was snowing, getting the thin clothes I had on wet. The furry ears that were atop my head uncontrollably twitched from the cold. I wanted to just fucking run but that’d be a death sentence. To be clear, none of that was my choice. Not once in my life did I ever get a choice being that I was a hybrid. Part cat to be specific. Unlike most hybrids, who are either made in a lab or conceived between two hybrids; I had been so lucky to be created in the basement of a former government worker who knew too much. My discovery led to the Counsel of the Americas realizing that they had to up security and also when they implemented the “Selection of Those We Trust Act” stating that people who worked in the government would no longer be hired, rather hand-picked at random. They weren’t allowed to even leave until they were 45. Even then, their every movement was monitored. The ideology was that it would prevent a breach of information as government projects became more and more dangerous if they were put in the wrong hands.

I almost felt bad for those who wanted to continue their work past that age, being that some did. When I was found I was deemed as useless as well. According to some bitch who had examined me while I was only just reaching the young age of 12, I could “do nothing more than what the average house cat could do.” I was of no use to the higher-ups, but they couldn’t just throw me into society. They were worried that an untrained hybrid would cause trouble. All of the other hybrids were of larger felines, aggressive canines, and a few other animals that could actually do the heavy work for people once they were “trained”. My father, the man who made me, always said I was created to bring joy. That’s not what hybrids were for. There were two wars that occurred dozens of years ago, WW3 and WW4. Many soldiers and citizens lost their lives during that time. After those occurred, The whole of North and South America decided to create one union controlled by “The Government” which the Counsel of the Americas was at the very top of. When my father first explained this to me as apart of my home tutoring, I couldn’t help but think of how stupid and uncreative that name was. Anyways, to replace the depleted population, hybrids were created. 

Half-human, half-animal intellectuals trained to kill, do heavy work, or even complete simple tasks such as taking on the day to day jobs that were left open after the population dropped. After 30 years of creating the first few hybrids, training them, and letting them out into the world; the government saw improvement in society. North and South America had finally begun rebuilding themselves from the wars at a faster rate than before. Any hybrid that could do shit was treated fairly and given housing with good pay at the age of 21.

Unfortunately, I never got that. Instead, from ages 12-15 I was thrown into a training program with the rest of the hybrids my age since they weren’t sure what else to do with me. We had normal academic classes if you consider normal to be college-level courses, along with a P.E class that was so intense, the average adult couldn’t have even done it. We were taught by military men and at times were forced to experience extreme hot or cold conditions while we trained. Since I wasn’t strong I couldn’t keep up. 

After 3 years and little improvement, the government used me for different projects. Some were as simple as solving a timed puzzle while others involved me getting strapped down to tables and poked at with needles. I almost lost my sanity at that time. It was also the start of my scratching. When put under stressful situations, I would scratch up my own arms with my sharp nails. At one point, I was put under a special watch to ensure that I didn’t take my own life. I had no intention of doing that and even if I did I was never sure as to why the workers cared. The news of a hybrid attempting suicide had spread in the facility being that nothing particularly interesting happened there. I once overheard from a few janitors that someone had requested for me to be kept alive. It could’ve well-been gossip, so I didn’t think too much about it.

Despite my use for experiments, I suppose the leaders of the training and experimental facilities saw that I was a waste of a lot of their time and money. Apparently, my body’s part in the experiments didn’t amount to how much it cost to take care of me. “Take care of” literally meant providing me with the bare minimum to survive. That’s when they decided to send me to live at some guy's house. He was supposedly the son of someone working on the counsel. That also meant he was never on the list of kids/ teens who were thrown into boarding schools to be the next scientists and workers within the government.

As soon as I thought that, the door swung open to reveal a man that had to be at least 6’7. I was a bit above average being 5’10 but this man was a literal giant. He had bright orange locks and a bit of a 5 o'clock shadow on his face. His arms folded across his chest showing off his muscular arms and his tight tank top allowed for his abs to be seen as well. I couldn’t help but stare at him. Even his eyes, which were a bright blue, were beautiful, “Is this the kid?” he asked, looking right back at me. I switched my gaze to the ground. I already hated him for getting me all bothered. In my defense, his voice was the epitome of masculine. It was deep with a slight rasp to it that would have anyone falling head over heels for him if his face hadn’t already done that. His looks, however, did not distract me from the fact that he called me a kid. I wanted to correct him but decided to just keep my mouth shut.

“Yes sir. He’ll be in your care for the next month. We hope you can make some use out of him at that time. We’ll contact you at the end of the month and you can make your decision as we discussed.” one of the men responded. I for sure didn’t know what the hell they were talking about but I didn’t care. “A few things to know before we leave: He has a history of cutting using his claws and he doesn’t like talking. During this time of his stay, you are allowed to use any form of training you see fit. If for any reason you’d like to send him back before his stay is completed you may and assistance will be sent a day after notice. More information regarding that is in the email you were sent.”

“Noted. You all may leave.” I remained still as the people in suits handed a suitcase of my few belongings over to the man, including the keys to my cuffs and remote to my collar, before leaving in the vehicles. Without saying a word I walked into the house, moving past the man. “Wow, you really were never taught any manners. I thought the facility would at least teach you to introduce yourself to new people.” I was taught manners by my “dad”, but they didn’t stick after being put in the training facility. Without responding, I walked farther into the living room decorated with three tapestries hanging on the walls, a couch, a lazy boy chair, and a coffee table. I could hear the door close. I was about to take a seat before my handcuffs were pulled back. “Hey, I was just joking. No need to get upset already,” he smiled.

I stared at him without saying a word. I didn’t want to talk to or try and get along. If anything I wanted to make him miserable. He gave me a warm smile despite my death glare and let me go. I returned to the couch to sit and was surprised when he knelt down in front of me. His arms reached out to unclasp the muzzle. I could feel his large hands slightly brushing across my skin sending a shiver down my spine. He let the muzzle fall in my lap, but I barely noticed since he was so close to me. He had a very interesting smell to him that I didn’t pay attention to before. It smelled like warmth if warmth was a smell. 

“I’m sorry if you didn’t take my joke too kindly, but listen up,” he began as he remained in the kneeling position with one knee up supporting the weight of his upper body as he leaned on it, “There are things I don’t do. One of them is yelling. I will never yell at you. I will expect you to respect me as I will respect you. As long as you live with me, you should see me sort of… like your boss per se. That being said, when I speak to you I’d like you to say something back, please.”

He stood up and placed his hand on my head as if he was going to pet me which I found myself wanting him to do. “My name’s Liam and I know you to be Nickel. I hope we can get along together. Is there perhaps another name you’d like to be referred to as?” he asked. His eyes were captivating as I found him holding my gaze throughout his whole speech. Normally I’d tune people out, but somehow he was different. He was being kind and wasn’t talking to me like he thought less of me. I felt like I could let my boundaries down around him. Out of the 12 years I spent in that hell of a place, I could count the times I felt that way on one hand. It scared me and I didn’t like it one bit. He was just faking it to get close to me so I’d listen to him. He had to have been. “Fuck off,” I whispered to myself a bit annoyed.

Thanks for reading! Please like, subscribe, comment, share, and join the discord! To people who already read my other novel thanks for checking this out and thank you to any no viewers! Please let me know what your thoughts are so far! I've never tried writing a story like this before so constructive criticism will be much appreciated. I haven't figured out a schedule for when I'll update, but after I finish my other story, I'll probs try and update on either Sundays or Mondays. Thx again and stay safe! 

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