Merrick was troubled.

He thumped his head on the shower stall as the water of the hard pressure spray washed away his body's reactions to a shitty week: fear, anger, and despair. A few moments of panic. A few of arousal. A lot of hunger.

Lady was right-- he did stink.

Thinking of her, his mind drifted to his and the kids' current circumstance. The Lady had been nothing but nice. Overly nice. She showered them with stuff that he knew cost a whole lot of credits. More than what his piddly-ass labor, that he hadn't even done yet, was worth. She fed them --twice-- at the food court at the mall. If any of their eyes lingered too long on any one thing, she picked it up and bought it. She gave the kids light touches and encouragement. She told them jokes and tried to make them laugh. She often tried to get a rise out of him, but he was still too thrown and scared since he realized what she was, and what he had done. What it meant.

"Of us." He muttered. That's what the scary and horny asshole, Mr. Green, had said.

The papers he had signed were adoption papers. Like he and the kids were the stray puppies the Lady had called them, and she had just bought them from a shelter. He felt the embers of resentment kindle to life in his chest.

No, that's not right. It's not really like that at all. The embers winked out.

Adoption papers, like for a kid. Three kids.

'Rights and privileges', he remembered, we have those. You don't give rights and privileges to adopted pets. You don’t teach them magic, either.

A loud knock on the door shook him out of his contemplation.

"Merri, you've been in there for thirty minutes! It's my turn!" Em called through the door. "I need to pee! I can't wait!" She jiggled the knob.

"Use the shop bathroom, I'm not done yet." The water felt too good. Very high pressure, it felt as if it could scour away all of Merrick's problems and leave him clean. In his spirit. In his soul. It wasn't quite working, but maybe if he stood here long enough, it would.

"No, Merri. It's my turn and I want a shower too. You're gonna use up all the hot water and then the Lady will tell me I stink again tomorrow and I don't want her to do that. It's my fucking turn!"

Merrick sighed. Finished rinsing. Turned the water off. Sighed again and grabbed the towel. "Give me five more minutes and it's yours."

"'Kay!" He heard her little stomping footsteps run back down the hallway and into her room.

He stood in front of the overly large, overly fancy mirror, in the overly large, overly fancy bathroom. He looked at himself.

The lost kid looking back at him was not the burgeoning adult he saw in his mirror at home a few months ago.

Skinny. He'd lost weight. His face was pale and wan. His eyes had bags. All of the things he saw in his reflection were all the things he'd harshly judged Lady's glamor about.

I look weak.

He dismissed his reflection and ran a towel over his hair.

Maybe a good run in his fur through the jungle the Lady had grown in this magic madhouse would make him feel better? Fucking it out of his system was off the table. No one to fuck. Fighting is also very much off the table. Lady would probably eat him. Running it is.

He hadn't shifted in months, not since Ma and Pa were killed and the safety and shield of childhood had melted away. His beast brain took his worries and wanted to fight his way out. Fight everyone. Fight the world. Merrick knew he'd probably lose control of himself and hunt down Paul the piss ant. Alpha or the witch. The old betas and their custom slave collar made for Thom. Clark and his wandering eyes and lingering scents left in Sheila's clothes. The other kids that just graduated school with him had better plans for their lives than he did and had a way out of the town and the pack. All the stupid and evil fucks left in a town that was supposed to protect him, protect the kids, and be an actual pack and not useless degenerates, but instead found a way to use children for their own sick ends.

He would have bitten through all of their necks until he drowned in their blood and was put down as rabid.

He tied the towel around his waist and opened the bathroom door.

No use putting on clothes if he was planning on putting on fur. He walked out of their apartment, which was playing music, had on a loud tv, sounds mixed with clanking dishes, and a hushed murmur from Thom to Emma.

"Gonna shift in the greenhouse! Be back later!" He yelled.

He waited for the two okays yelled back and then he was gone.

***

The greenhouse was weird. Not like how the store part of the building was weird -- the magic in this part didn't try to singe its way through Merrick's brain, although there still was a lot of it -- it was weird how it felt a ton bigger in here than it seemed like it was from the outside. Probably because of all the glass window walls. The outside was indeed big, but the inside felt as if it were maybe three times the size it really was. Maybe more. It seemed to Merrick like every time he came in, it always felt just a little bit bigger. Sounds echoed back and bounced off of barely-contained greenery. Plants constrained clearly defined borders, reaching out fronds and leaves and shoots and vines, as if the moment his eyes left them, they would move into the space and make passing by unscathed impossible.

Light from the moon and street lights outside filtered through the glass walls and ceiling, making the space seem like a real, honest-to-gods forest. Away from the path that led back to the Lady's work areas, the air was moist and verdant and alive. If he knew that there wasn't another building right over there, past the glass walls that he couldn't see, but knew were still there, he'd feel as if he were lost in the wilderness. It made part of his brain weirded out (how can it feel like this inside of a building?), but another part, the part he was going to set free tonight, was singing a howl to run and jump and play with nature; yipping a bark to sniff and mark and roll around in the dirt and dig.

He looked around and decided this spot was as good as any. He dropped the towel and began his shift.

Some people's shifts took a few minutes and were laced with agony and blood, grunts and shits. His was never like that. He and his animal, at the core of him, were him. They were one and he was both a man and a beast. The thought process was different-- he could swallow down shit that people gave him with his human brain easier than his beast brain, and his beast was more earthy in his pursuits, but they were one being.

The shift was over in less than a second, and his man brain took a back seat to the beast, and he lifted his nose and took a deep sniff.

He smelled plants. Lots of plants. Lots of different plants. He smelled magic, too: magic of the forests and nature, of light and shadows, of life and death.

It was an absolute feast for his nose. He sneezed. He shook his head.

A thought wandered into his brain.

He wanted to eat it. The taste in the air.

He snapped his teeth at it, trying to get the taste in his mouth; he wanted to swirl it around and swallow it down. It would be delicious. He would eat and chew and devour it.

He did just that.

Yummy yummy yummy. A tasty treat. His tail wagged. It made him feel so good and so full and it was so warm going down his throat. It pooled in his belly like liquor. Made his mind tingly. Made his paws sparkle.

Then, as he was again wrapping his teeth around another tasty treat he wanted to eat so, so much, a pop sounded, a window broke, and a bird chirped.

---

Max was troubled.

Bullets shouldn't do anything to the windows of the greenhouse. She had layered wards over wards on them, cast reinforcement spells and cantrips, bathed those expensive babies in potions for endurance, and applied interior and exterior protection spells. She was iffy about how many windows she had gotten installed-- she knew it was foolhardy to live in a literal glass house when the stones of a rebooted cycle got inevitably thrown-- but she wanted what she wanted and did it anyway. And then backed it all up with the might of a thousand libraries' of magical knowledge.

She wasn't an idiot.

At least, she tried not to be anyway.

Even if someone threw a bomb at her greenhouse, it should be able to tank the hit.

What was going on?

She looked out of a window and saw a figure splashing a liquid on one of her windows. Rude. He put down the gas canister, reached into his pocket, and flicked a flame source.

Oh. Well. Okay then. I don't know who you are, but let's fight, you little stupid shit.

And then: Fucking asshole. I was sleeping.

The flame caught and flickered and died. The wards were at least holding up well enough to combat a fire. That was good. Especially since a large fire would make her think of things she was trying to not think of. She didn't want to level the city in an explosion of magical panic. Max did not do well with fire.

She looked around the greenhouse for a clue of what was going on with the wards. She lifted off from her rafter and did a pass over the whole area. She saw... what the ever-loving fuck is that?

Flew over to the monster. Why do I have a void wolf in my greenhouse? I didn't summon that. Did fuck-face outside throw a godsdamned, fucking void wolf at me? What the fuck did ever I do to him? She angled to land right in front of it, planning to put her body between it and the door that led to the kids. She shifted back into her current Max body before hitting the ground. Superhero landing. She readied spells and palmed a dagger in each hand. She gave the monster a look over, but it didn't attack when she arrived. That's good. Maybe it's still confused after the summoning.

The wolf's head was level with her shoulder and was black as the pitch the dude outside was trying to make her greenhouse into. Its fur was shaggy and thick, its paws as big as her head-- too big for its skinny legs... like it wasn't quite finished being a puppy. It had teeth as long as her fingers. It was devilish and wicked looking. When finished growing, it would be a city destroyer. A lesser monster than her, but still like her; he would be able to kill in thousands, but she could kill in millions.

She was hoping to avoid fighting in this life. Oh well. I guess I don't get to have a pacifist playthrough this time. She told Miles in GodChat to rush the kids to the bunker. She assumed a battle stance and was ready.

Something stopped her. She looked at the monster again. The eyes that alternated from fire-filled to horror-filled gave him away. He looked guilty and happy in equal measure-- as if he was just caught eating candy he wasn't supposed to. His tail hung down and also wagged in greeting.

"Puppy?” The monster’s tail wagged and he did a little dog whimper, like he knew he was in trouble, but it was worth it. “Whatcha doin'? Eating my wards? Having a little midnight snack? A little nosh?" She asked with narrowed eyes, but no heat. Ugh, this is fine. Sure, he's a void wolf. Sure, I adopted a godsdamned void wolf. Fucking hells, my luck, I swear.

She dropped her stance and approached him to pat his head. "Stay right there, pup. Let me go grab that little asshole that just tried to spark us up, so we can both make him regret his actions. And possibly his whole life. One sec, okay?"

She gave him a look that brooked no argument. It was an order and they both knew it. The puppy's tail stopped wagging and hung low. He made a sad doggy whimper. He dropped his head and sat on his haunches.

---

Teddy was trouble.

Theodore, to his whore of a mom, but Teddy to everyone else, was a good foot soldier. He was also a violent piece of shit.

He liked his job. It gave him enough money to keep him in booze and in women, and have the occasional drug-fueled party when he wanted it. It gave him a reason to bust heads and smash windows and intimidate people. To cut the occasional face. To break the occasional leg. Make the occasional asshole disappear. It gave him the respect of his buddies and generated fear in the people who looked his way when they passed him on the street. The little people on the Company's turf gave him and his buddies a wide and respectful berth.

As a contractor, working for the Company gave him clout.

When he was growing up in the slums, listening to his mom turn tricks in the next room so that he and his brother could eat bread at night, he never thought he'd have clout. When the other street kids roughed him up and emptied his pockets of all he had pick-pocketed or begged for that day, he didn't think he'd have clout. When he had to leave his brother behind in the hands of the cops because he got caught stealing food, he didn't think he'd have clout.

Now, if one of his buddies got caught with blood on their dagger over a bloody corpse, the cops looked the other way. He was the man banging the chick who had kids in the next room. He was the one who took and took and took instead of having anything taken.

It was a good life.

The order had come down from upper management to set fire to a building, so Teddy and his crew went to follow orders. Simple as that. He mentally made plans on how to spend tonight's earnings. He had a current favorite working girl and hadn't seen her in a few days. She wouldn't mind if his clothes smelled like soot. He idly wondered if the bruises he gave her last time were healed yet.

As he watched from down the block, acting as lookout with a gun in his hand, his buddy Billy broke a window to spread the gas and struck a lighter to set the fire. Teddy was mentally already balls-deep in his little piece and had whiskey on his breath.

The building they were sent to burn was unnatural. It was fucked up somehow. He raided it once back during the turf war, but it had changed now, other than just glass walls and a fancy front. He didn't know how or why, but looking at it gave him an uneasy sweat and made his teeth hurt.

He didn’t care. He just wanted to be done.

The fire didn't stay lit. The gas on the building smelled like gas, but the fire wouldn't spread.

"Hey Teddy, this shit ain't workin'. You got any other gas? I think this jug went bad. Won't light." Billy yelled down the street. Billy was fuckin' stupid. Teddy mostly hated Billy.

"Just fuckin' light it up and let's go, man. This place is givin' me the creeps. Somethin' ain't right about it. It's the shadows. They seem fucked up." Teddy did a loud whisper shout. He started to hurry down the alley toward his accomplice. Fuck lookout duty, he thought. This idiot can't even do basic arson. Idiot.

Just as Billy tried to light up the building one more time, an arm reached out of a shadow, pulled him in, and smothered his scream.

Teddy stopped running toward where Billy was standing and instead turned completely around and tried to book it away.

"Heya, dipshit. Why are you setting my house on fire?" A voice came from behind him. A woman's voice. He stopped running and turned around.

Teddy sized her up. She was alone, a woman, and in a dark alley. This would be his specialty, if not for the arm and the shadow. He'd offer to show this bitch her place --which was face down in a trash puddle-- if it weren't for the fact that Billy’s scream cut off. That was never good.

He pointed his gun at her. Then she moved and he didn't see anything else but the pavement rushing up towards his face.

***

When he woke up, he was tied to a chair.

His head hurt.

The room smelled funny. It felt funny, too.

It felt like his own, overwhelming fear.

As he came more awake, he realized that the normal situation of being tied to a chair and interrogated and this situation weren't alike. The ropes were vines. He had a flower in his mouth. The vines were quivering and holding thorns to his eyes like they were alive and angry.

The fear in the room intensified. It was like he was breathing it in, and it would double, and then he breathed it out, just to be added to the fear he would then breathe in again. The fear was alive. It was a person and it had a boot on his throat.

The thorns threatening his eyes lowered as he heard a voice say, "Okay, Pup. Now that he's awake, what do you think we should do with him?" It was the woman from outside who spoke.

There was something off about her. He looked at her face, and it was different than before. Pointier. Hungrier. Angrier. More threatening.

She bent down over him and looked in his eyes, "I might have hit him in the head a bit too hard. His pupils are blown." She stood up and looked at someone over his shoulder.

A huge fucking black dog growled from his left. He could only see it out of the corner of his eye. It had galaxies in its fur. It was a god of destruction. It was going to eat his soul. The growl rolled through Teddy's marrow, reverberating like a siren, and it made him piss himself.

She answered the growl with, "No, I don't think we should eat him. Maybe he'll take a contract to buy his way out?" Teddy pissed himself some more. Maybe some shit came out, he wasn’t sure.

Another dog growl. A louder one. Teddy whimpered.

"I know this dipshit intruded on our territory, but you can't eat your problems, Pup. You don't know where this trash has been. He could have a disease or something. He's also covered in piss." She walked over to the beast of chaos. She patted its head.

"I'm going to offer the dipshit a contract and see what he has to say."

Another sound, a dog grumble.

She turned to Teddy, and Teddy was frozen solid. Shocked still. Petrified. "Okay, Dipshit. You have one chance, and if you aren't smart about it, I'm feeding you to Puppy. Sign this. You're going to tell me what I want to know and then you get to fuck off." She held out a crumpled and old piece of paper. With the other hand, she held out a pen.

How was he supposed to sign if his hands were tied? He was working the flower from his mouth with his tongue to tell them they had a deal.

He did not want to be fed to the monster.

It was then that Billy fell out of a shadow on the ceiling, landing on his back right next to Teddy’s feet. His body hitting the floor sounded like a melon smashing on the concrete. When he landed, blood shot upward out of his mouth like a fountain and splashed on the floor, covering everything close. Teddy couldn't tell if he was breathing, but he could tell that Billy was missing his eyes and tongue. His empty sockets were staring at the shadow that dropped him and were missing the lids. They looked like they had been chewed off. Or clawed out.

Teddy puked and the flower flew out of his mouth in a stream of vomit and bile and into his lap.

"Yes, yes, yes, I'll sign. Yes. I'll sign,” he croaked through his spew.

Teddy was crying. Sobbing. Begging. He was covered in puke and piss and had Billy's blood on his legs and shoes.

Clout isn't worth this.

"Oh, that's interesting. I guess I missed one?" The woman asked with a questioning look at Billy’s body.