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Time: 8:00pm-10:00pm

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Several hours passed after Artie was beaten unconscious. Now nighttime, he awoke to stinging bruises and cuts on his face. The left half of his head had been tightly wrapped, leaving him with one working eye. He rose from another bed then inspected a small, cold, and unknown room. It was made from dark oak and barely lit by a single candle.

Artie carefully stood and made way for a door. After exiting the first drab room, he found himself in another. This one was much larger but similar in appearance to the last. There'd been no natural lightning, only two lit candles spaced around the room. One on a shelf located in the rightmost corner, and another on a long desk. Because of the minuscule amount of light and his hazy sight, Artie crept slowly.

Advancing closer, he spotted the figure of a woman sitting perfectly still at a work desk. As he lurked across the hardwood floor, soft creaks sounded. Once the person heard the sound, they slightly shifted, turning to Artie.

"You're awake," Observed Wana, unhurriedly closing a thin book.

Artie halted at the sound of her unmistakable voice. She'd been sitting in a square space the size of a classroom, but only a single desk and wide shelf occupied the chamber despite the size. The cold, dark, red room had a mysterious pressure that pulled down on him like gravity. Wana clearly had no qualms with it because she calmly sat with her legs crossed, peering at Artie. The woman was dressed in an oversized nightgown, which revealed excessive cleavage.

Upon seeing her, the fresh bruises on his face throbbed and ached further. Artie speechlessly wobbled across the ghostly, empty room, then stopped in front of Wana.

"..."

He scanned the desk from one end to the other until his eye fixed on a wooden ink pen headed with a sharp, shiny tip. Wana maintained her elegant posture and watched Artie nonchalantly grab the pointed pen.

When his intentions were clear, Wana uncrossed her legs, scooched her chair back, then slowly stood. While standing, she gazed down at Artie, who absent-mindedly stared at her chin.

There was no consideration or moment to consult his thoughts. Artie pulled the pen back and lunged it at the woman's gut in a single act. His entire body jolted forward when he struck, colliding against Wana's feminine frame, his head arranged on her shoulder.

There was no vulgar sound of impaled flesh, nor could he feel the unpleasant wetness of blood. The tip had not pierced her skin, so he jerked his hand back and stabbed again. Then again, and once more before an audible snap met his ears. The sharp tip and a quarter of the wooden base broke off and fell onto the ground. This, however, did nothing to deter Artie. For another two minutes, he continued to thrust with what remained of the wooden handle.

Despite his malicious intent, he only managed to poke a discernible round hole in the women's sleepwear. While she was unharmed, a guilty satisfaction sedated his anger.

"What am I doing…."

Artie's vision further weakened, and he became woozy from exhaustion. His awareness of his body quickly thinned then he fainted. After he collapsed, Wana promptly and firmly grabbed his shoulders. Artie's lifeless head tumbled forward onto her chest and rested there as she held him up. Even after fainting, he could feel Wana's body's warmth and cushy comfort. Being dragged further into unconsciousness.

 

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Day: 11 / Time: 11:00am-1:00pm

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The next day came, and Artie reawakened on the same bed. The first thing he noticed was the clarity of his eyes. Whatever bandages he wore before were gone, and so was the pain. Beyond that, replacing the misty haze that shrouded his mind was a clear and refreshing feeling.

"Feels like I was dreaming…." Whispered Artie.

He dearly wished it'd been a delusion, but reaching up, he felt the furry ears still planted on his head.

Artie lowered his hand and slowly breathed. Within time he recalled the events that led to him lying in that unfamiliar dark room. It was unpleasant, but he processed and swallowed the truth, Both the reality of his cursed form and the matter of the citizens' attempted murder.

"At least one good thing came from this," Artie muttered, observing his fully healed body.

He was not concerned with how or why he was suddenly fixed, and once ready; he guardedly stepped from the room. While he expected guards or hunters to ambush him, none did. There was just Wana sitting at the same desk, reading an inscribed document.

Dreading the idea of speaking with her, Artie tiptoed in the opposite direction, searching for the room's exit. The creaky wooden floor made his attempt unreachable, for he was detected only four steps in.

Discovered, Artie placed his total weight on the floor and disappointedly sighed. Wana, who'd worn a flowy burgundy shirt and tight leather pants, placed the papers down and glanced at him. Artie wavered as he avoided eye contact, thinking of any excuse to go free.

"Sit," Uttered Wana, pointing at the floor.

There'd been apparent hesitation, but Artie obeyed and tensely kneeled directly in front of her.

Wana did not speak right away but stared at him for a minute before starting.

"You must be hungry."

Without his confirmation, the woman suddenly called a girl outside the room. She entered, received her directions, then departed. As soon as the girl left, Wana returned to her work at the desk, leaving Artie befuddled on the cold floor. He had not eaten in days, so the mere mention of food was so thrilling he patiently sat without a sound. After several minutes the food was delivered, and he hastily devoured it leaving nothing behind.

"Now, we have a lot to discuss," Wana announced, returning her attention to him.

"Right…" Artie nervously mumbled.

The woman started by recounting what he already knew. That he epically failed his assignment and that a majority of the town detested him because of his unforeseen transformation.

"Despite the circumstances, we've agreed to grant you a temporary position as my attendant."

"Huh?" Sounded Artie, dumbfounded by her words.

He thought the sudden offer was incomprehensible, considering he'd just tried to kill her, but he wouldn't dare bring it back up.

"You'll refuse?" Asked Wana, slightly raising her brows.

"No, I'm just a bit surprised…." Explained Artie, continuing to avoid her sharp gaze.

The dark-skinned woman turned away and grabbed the candle on her desk.

"There are, of course, strings attached." Informed Wana, holding the flame up in front of Artie.

Apprehensive, he gradually lifted his face. He became concerned about what those "conditions" could entail.

"We know very little about this world and how it affects our bodies." Started Wana, slowly placing her free hand over the candle's fire.

"A lot is demanded from my job, so scarcely can I dedicate time to research."

"Instead, I'll suggest you take my place."

Artie only partially listened because the other half of his attention was on Wana's hand. He was shocked that she didn't burn, cringe, or make any unseemly faces. Out of his control, the ears on his head and the tail at his rear impulsively stood up.

"Well?" Wana asked, regaining his attention.

Artie's knees began to hurt, so he shifted onto his bottom and crossed his legs before acknowledging her.

"Do they know?" He quietly asked.

Wana stood from her chair, grabbed a leather vest, and began to pull it over her top.

"If you're referring to my altered body, no,"

"People fear what can't be explained, so it'll stay a secret until we figure out the cause."

As the crimson-eyed woman spoke, she equipped even more leather armor: arm guards, gloves, and other heavy articles of clothing.

"There's a researcher named Oscar that's aware of my condition. Starting today, you'll also be under his care." She continued.

With a sudden jerk of his leg, Artie sent an empty plate barreling across the floor before frantically standing.

"An attendant is one thing, but I'm not letting another stranger experiment on me."

"Another…" Wana mumbled, leaning down to tighten her boots.

"The name of the person who initially examined you, what is it?" She firmly inquired.

It was clear to Artie where she was leading with her question. He anxiously stepped back and pulled at the uncomfortable black nails growing from his fingertips.

"She was hospitalized, so-"

"I asked for a name." Interjected Wana.

"..."

He inevitably cracked and revealed the woman's name who'd previously tested him. Once Wana had her answer, she sent a guard ahead then beckoned for Artie to follow. He did so reluctantly, internally screaming at the situation he'd created for himself.