The Coven's Pets

A Pet’s POV

Inhale.

The smell of Spring daffodils and wet grass after a rainstorm.

Exhale.

Metal banging sounds and soft sobs from some run down the line. A bird chirping in flight.

Inhale.

Fingers fidgeting through the soft white fur of her own tail. Layered blonde hair tickling her shoulder blades in a light breeze.

Exha—

A loud shout jolted her blue eyes open to Master against the fence of the run next door. The pretty redhead there rushed to the gate and he clipped a lead to her permanent collar. She was led away and it was momentarily quiet again. So much for her grounding exercise.

Her eyes travelled down the line of runs to the other pets. Always nekos, like her. Part cat but mostly human looking, and as varied in appearance as any human sampling. She had heard their kind were originally bred as companions, but as the world disintegrated, they devolved into nothing more than slaves. At the end of the world now, they were no more than currency.

She tucked strands of blonde hair over one white cat ear at the top of her head and turned to watch the direction this Master had left in. He had been the most decent owner so far, albeit that was mostly due to his constant absence.

She didn’t remember much of her young upbringing. Pieces of memories strung together painted a clear picture of being born in a breeding program and trained for servitude.

Passed on then from Master to Master. The Pet Store Master with his steel cages and beer belly. The vampire in his fortress with a demand for complete silence and darkness. Then the Elite Sisters; vampires from the underground coven who knew only cruelty and spoke a different language.

Near-death, she was traded lastly to this Master who seemed to be another middle-man seller with some beautiful stock. He’d given her time to heal, rare interactions a welcome change.

She watched his approach now though with a sense of dread, cemented when he pointed directly at her. Her ‘smell-hear-feel’ practise hadn’t kept the panic surge away.

She stood from her cross-legged sit though to meet him at the gate with eyes trained to the floor. A click to her collar and a small tug led her from the reprieve of the hot sun back toward the cold indoor kennels.

They took a left on their way though and her bare feet touched plush blue carpeting in a new room. A few deep breaths brought the smell of beer and whiskey into her lungs, and somewhere a cigarette was burning. Her leash rattled her collar loop and in her side glance she saw the pointing down command. She kneeled and made out sounds of a male cough and keys jingling. In a side eye the other way she saw the red head similarly kneeling with chin on her chest.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…

“As requested, these two are the newest. The white one is a bit bruised, but the small red girl is young and very obedient.” It was Master’s voice.

This must be the viewing room, she thought between calming breaths. She nibbled her bottom lip in a nervous habit and fought the urge to lift eyes and see the potential buyers. It was strictly forbidden to make eye contact. That was one rule universal to languages and locations.

“And blood types?”

She frowned and closed her eyes to keep her breath steady. No! More vampires.

“The ginger is A positive.” She felt Master’s shadow behind her. “An’ this one’s O negative. Always a crowd pleaser.”

A sigh from in front preluded one of the buyer’s disinterest. “Neither for me Alex. I’m still sore you sold that olive sweetness out from under me last week.” His voice was silky, deep... and very scary.

Master hurried his excuse out. “It’s first come, first served Master Damien. You know that I wouldn’t dream t’ piss off the leader of the local Coven! I ’ave a lead on another though, and you’ll be the only one I call when I ’ave her.”

“You better.” The man sounded bored under the veiled threat. Some finger snapping sounds made her flinch. “Now, you. Pick one.”

Keys jingled and someone to her left seemed to stand as footsteps headed her way. Muddy military boots hidden under overhanging dress pants stopped inches from her knees. “Her,” he said simply.

Her stomach lurched into her throat, a sound like rushing water flooding her ears with a threatening panic attack. A blood pet, again! Through the roar of panic she tried to listen to the transaction details, passing of documents, and a reading of some disclaimer waiving any refunds for any reason including ’accidental draining’. Her collar was tugged and she stood to follow.

The two Masters rarely talked in the truck ride, so she chanced a look out the tiny back window. The Spring greenery of the kennels dissolved into city streets and forgotten buildings. The delivery truck turned into the lot of a crumbling multi level high rise and she read a lopsided white sign out front.

City of Lost Angels Hospital

She frowned and quickly dropped eyes back to her lap when the doors opened and she was pulled from within. Dressed in only a short sun dress and thin underwear, her bare feet padded carefully on the cracked pavement between wind gusts. Entrance doors slid open and ornate carpets with plush couches filled the converted lobby.

The smooth, scary voice of the man named Damien suddenly spoke, "Drop her upstairs and meet me in the Red wing. We've lost most of the day on this little... errand." He strode in the opposite direction, heel clicks the only thing making a sound in the huge lobby.

She followed quickly behind her new Master's boots through a maze of sterile hallways, stairs, and sliding doors. Keys and clunks opened a door and they stepped through the threshold into her new home.

Inhale. Exhale.