9.5 // An Epitaph for the Test Monkey
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“Been looking everywhere for you,” Jorge said.

“Oh hi, Jorge,” Leo greeted him with a smile.

Leo was unrealistically cherry for a leopard confronted by a gorilla half his height taller and thrice as wide. He gave no concern that this angry primate standing before him has his intentions visibly imprinted in the wrinkles of his scowling face, nor that it was even more clearly shown within the knuckles on his trembling fists. Leo’s gleeful, green gaze was a planet away from Jorge’s dark, pitch-black glare, its pupils shrouded behind blinding, simmering rage. It was like a complete loss of self-preservation. It was like watching a mouse casually strolling towards a cat without a care in the world. That is what Leo seemed to be at the moment.

“Where were you last night,” Jorge growled.

“Last night?” Leo asked, “Was there something last night?”

There was nothing that could hold back Jorge. Not the passer-bys walking along the corridors, nor the usual lackeys hanging behind the gorilla. It never seemed to matter in the first place, with the former actively looking the other way and the latter looking more joyful than willing to aid. Jorge seemed to have grown an inch from all directions, either by pure anger alone or the atmosphere radiating off his sheer intimidation. His muscles seemed more jacked under his uniform, with a glare in his eyes saying nothing but murder, regardless of how, but preferably by his own hands.

“Ah, you mean yesterday night when you wanted to meet me for sleeping with Jorgina.”

Jorge was one notch away from blowing up right then and there.

“You see,” Leo threw a light-hearted chuckle, “That was a bit of a mistake, I think.”

Jorge responded in a tone that is anything but light-hearted and rational, “Excuses ain’t taking you nowhere now.”

“Oh, no, not that at all. In fact, I do think I slept with Jorgina, though I’d be more pleased to remember when, where and how-”

Jorge was ready to explode.

“-but what I think, is that she actually brought a friend to stand-in for her. Or how I remembered it. I don’t even know who asked who in the first place. You see, I usually recognize people from their spots or their fur at least. Jorgina didn’t really have either and thing is, to me, Jorgina looked quite a lot like her other friends. This isn’t an insult, by the way; plain average is beauty in and of itself. Since she had quite the resemblance with the others, I might’ve accidentally mistaken her for someone else, whoever ‘her’ may be.”

Jorge closed in, jabbing a fat finger towards Leo, “If you think I’m gonna stand here and listen to your dicked up bull-”

“Then check with her. Call her.”

Jorge jammed in his words. His mouth cranked to a halt, along with his voice. All the things he had to say suddenly came to a stop right as Leo suggested to call the girl itself and make confirmation. Jorge couldn’t think of anything else to say aside from an enraged, “What?”

“Call her to check. See if she’s really the one I slept with before. Tell her it’s a little friendly trust exercise between you two if it turns out she isn’t the-”

“You’re not getting out of this,” Jorge cut him off, “Not like this. Not in any way.”

“Why not? Are you scared? If you treated her right you wouldn’t need to worry about this. Just give her a call and know the truth. You could’ve done this before. You could’ve done it yesterday. You could’ve done it when you heard the news.”

Jorge didn’t seem to be listening. In fact, he didn’t look anything within the spectrum of rationality. He was a hair’s thread away from tearing away his material being and pouncing upon Leo with nothing but the pure spirit of his anger, engulfing him in rage and choking him to his death.

“Who told you I slept with her anyway? Maybe he knows. He could ask around, find out what--”

“I’ll find out when I’m done with you.”

No words could possibly drill into Jorge’s head at this point. He was dead set on reigning over Leo in any way possible, be it in pride or through violence. He had diluted all his thoughts and reduced them into a simple goal - to gain triumph over the leopard. He was ready, like a pulled rubber band about to snap.

“So this is how much you trust your girlfriend?”

No words; aside from the few Leo muttered.

The rubber band snapped, not in half but back to itself. For unknown reasons, the fury dissipated from Jorge’s pupils, clearing his mind for once, letting in rationality for a tiny moment. In that small frame of time, the gorilla glanced to his back, looking at his lackeys. The primates didn’t know what to say, and some of them simply looked back to their boss, save for the nervous orangutan, who looked to the side instead.

He turned back, his gaze stuck at Leo for a fleeting second before the wrinkles on his face returned, along with the pent up anger from before, clouding his eyes again.

“It doesn’t matter no more. I’ll know as soon as I go through with-”

“Leo,” someone else cut Jorge off, calling the leopard from behind.

Dove came by, striding by towards Leo, his glare ever so present on his expression. The Doberman had his eyes staring straight at the leopard. Never once did his gaze wavered to the side, as if he never noticed the behemoth of a primate standing beside Leo. He walked up to his side, with a strange, small red straw sticking out from his snout.

“Your straw’s in your mouth,” Leo pointed towards his own mouth.

Dove stared at Leo for a moment before realizing and grabbing the straw from his mouth, tossing it aside, “Hm.”

“How’s Shiro?”

Dove answered straight away, “The wolf’s alright.”

“Just alright?”

Dove raised his right hand, caressing his knuckles with the four remaining intact fingers on his left palm.

“For now.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

Dove lowered his gaze to his right hand. He balled it into a fist, digging his fingers into his palm. Then he looked to his left hand. He tried to do the same, struggling to barely raise his ring finger before setting it free.

“I’ll wait until this gets better.”

“What then?”

Dove’s gaze rose sharply towards Leo. His glare changed up a bit. There was a level of intense sincerity in his pupils, crackling with determination.

“Maybe I’ll find it. Or not. Until my finger heals, I’ll wait.”

All the while, Jorge listened to the exchange between the mutt and the leopard as if he was merely a spectator on the wayside. He watched himself pushed completely out of the scene by the two, treating him as some sort of a minor inconvenience out of the way, finally out of their hair for good.

No, it was worse. They were speaking as if he was never in the picture in the first place. The moment Dove strode into their conversation Jorge simply ceased to exist. His presence was never there. Not before, not during, and definitely not after. His state of being was wiped away in an instant like he never left a trace on the planet before.

The amount of disrespect did not translate well to his anger.

“Oi,” he boomed, shoving his giant hand right between the two, jabbing a finger towards Leo, “You and I got unfinished business.”

He turned his head to the side, shooting a glare right back at the Doberman, “Sore losers can stay-”

“Say,” Leo cut Jorge for the umpteenth time today, “You took Dove’s spot last night, didn’t you?”

Jorge reared his head back to the leopard, unsure of what to say. For one, he was proud of that achievement. It was that one thought that had consistently put a smile on his face for the past few hours. If anything, he wanted to rub it onto Dove’s face more than ever. If he didn’t have a reputation he reckoned he’d be extremely childish about it. But pride was not the emotion he was looking to put on, nor is it gratitude. He simply remained silent, putting on the rage still boiling within himself.

“I was meaning to congratulate you on that, but your angry face made me forget. Now that we’re at this point, I guess it wouldn’t be too late to send me regards, wouldn’t it?”

Jorge growled, “Compliments won’t get you no-”

“Which is the end of it. Now that I sent my regards for your new placing, it’ll be a shame for you to lose it so quickly, right?”

Jorge was about to retort when he caught onto the last of Leo's words. He had his mouth ajar before he paused. He slowly closed his mouth, his heightened rage coming down to Earth for a fleeting moment before slowly rising once more at the realization of Leo’s intention behind his words.

“What?”

“It breaks my heart to say this but I have to be honest to you, Jorge. You’re just not interesting anymore.”

Jorge could only listen. He didn’t say anything, mostly because he had nothing to say. He couldn’t understand every single word uttered by the leopard. He could only hear the blatant mockery behind his tone.

The veins in his forearm bulged outwards, growing and coiling across it like roots, grasping it hard with hot, boiling blood.

“This was never about you, Jorge. I’m sorry. You had potential, but there isn’t really anything else after that. You never really mattered until last evening at the corridor, and since last evening, to be frank. You served your purpose, and I’m grateful for that, I really am.

“But you were only a test monkey. Always, from the start.”

 


 

Different species are born with special gifts from the start.

Canines always had an affinity with biting strength, blessed with the teeth to chew through bones. Hawks always had binocular vision, allowing them to see further and clearer than everyone else. Humans have displayed their higher mental capacity through their actions and placing upon the food chain. Despite being the most scarce, they’re the most tenacious, trading physicality with raw mental talent. Birds always have a better sense of direction than most others. Felines and their flexibility. Owls and their night vision. The list goes on and on.

Gorillas always had their size to their advantage.

It may not reach the capacity of rhinos or elephants, but in terms of strength to mass, the gorilla is unmatched. In most brawls, they’re the one to come out on top. To put it in perspective, it is difficult for them to lose in a contest of power, at least believably in the eyes of others. The sheer velocity capable of being put out by their limbs cannot be understated, so much so that they’re practically banned from most sports in the name of fairness for other smaller species, save for the major leagues and championships. One attack from them can mean an end for most.

Unfortunately, it is also the gorillas' greatest bane.

With size, it is easy to understate everything else around you. Just as a Doberman can never imagine how big it is to be a gorilla, a gorilla can never imagine how small it’ll be to be a Doberman. An uneven disposition compared to the more average body sizes of the world can give unfair impressions towards the world around you. One might be proud, perhaps even arrogant towards their born advantage, to the point where they rely on it so much that it becomes a crutch to them.

Just as size can be a power, it could also be used against the assailant.

Gorillas may be bigger, but they’re not much different than the others. Like many bodies, they too possess joints; joints easy to be broken and pressured against by their own size and weight.

A gorilla who understands their affinity can use it to their advantage. A gorilla who only understands their affinity as an advantage is nothing but a glass-wall building; chock full of windows.

Jorge bent his arm and threw a vicious backhanded swing. It was a swing powered by his strength, body weight, and unquenchable wrath fueled by the intoxicating image of having Leo’s face plastered all across his knuckles. It was a swing powerful enough to break bricks and crack cinder blocks.

The swing phased through Leo.

It didn’t seem to be a work of illusion, but rather pure, unexplained magic. The leopard was there the whole time, standing and talking, as solid as everyone else. Anyone could reach out and caress his yellow, spotted fur and feel the warmth within. Jorge was so sure he was within reach and yet when his knuckles blasted through Leo it did the opposite. The swing simply went through the leopard as if he was nothing but a mirage. Jorge was stuck in his stance for a moment. He watched in awe as the smug face of the leopard he was so sure to be splattered across his arm remained intact as if his swing was nothing more than a light, gentle breeze across his face. 

Jorge held onto his rationality. He was determined to convince it was nothing but a play by his mind. Jorge kept his arms spinning, using the momentum to launch an uppercut with his other arm.

As Jorge spun, from the corner of his eye, he caught a tiny glimpse of Dove, who stood beside Leo, or at least just then. He wasn’t standing anymore. In that fleeting moment, Dove turned a faint blur. It looked as if he was moving in great motion, right where he stood. His legs remained stationary, but his upper body was a smoky shadow, like a hazy outline of a dog drawn with haste and carelessness.

Then the floor started to stand up.

It happened slowly for Jorge. He was ready to throw a boulder of a fist towards the leopard, looking to finish the job. Then he noticed the slight elevation from the ground. In a split second, the marble floor seemed to grow under his feet. Before he knew it, the floor beneath him started to rise up. The gorilla felt his understanding of the world break into a million pieces before his eyes. For that passing moment, he instantly forgot about his feud with Leo. All the neurons in his head burst into action, looking for a fast, logical explanation to the phenomenon he’s witnessing.

Then he started to feel pain.

It wasn’t any general ache, but a sudden jolt of pain tearing away at his lower jaw. He felt it cranking to the side by its own volition, breaking away from the side of his mouth, tugging along strings of meat from within his mouth. He felt his neck twist as it went. The pain immediately multiplied, this time stinging in his head as if a boulder had crashed into the side of his skull. Not from outside, but from within. All the neurons in his brain simply shut off altogether, throwing both comprehension and rationality out of his mind. With that, he lost all the energy in his limbs. His uppercut still flew, but all the weight behind it was lost. He felt his legs give way, his joints melting into liquid.

As the marble floor grew taller in his eyes, he drew his stunned gaze to the side, away from the marble floor towards a dark, shadowy figure looming before him. As the last of his consciousness hung onto his head he recognized the silhouette watching him from above. The silhouette was holding a stance, with slack arms holding open hands resting below the hips. Just above the shoulders was a familiar pair of eyes he’d seen just the night before. It was brown, glaring and crackling with intensity.

Only this time, there was no emotion behind it. Even with the scorning gaze, it held no weight within. It was just an empty stare, ripe with apathy and indifference.

Then everything went black. It drowned over his senses, dousing his sight and the pain in benumbed, murky darkness. However, just before the shadow covered everything, Jorge made out a voice. It was no speak, but more of a growl, grizzly and somewhat annoyed in its tone as if it’s been let down, somehow.

“Easier than I thought,” it said.

 


 

Ay, thanks for the wait. Work on Chapter 10 will start immediately upon publishing this chapter.

Which means I'm working on it. Right now. As you're reading this.

So why not give a little encouragement eh,? That grey, sad heart over there. See it? Good. Make it red. No biggie, right? Unless you're some pasty kid coughed out of some cheap whore who's all talk and no bite, that is.

C'mon, prove you ain't.

Make that heart happy. Make it bleed.

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