To say that our meeting had been peaceful would be a falsehood. When I had arrived at the house, I had hoped for an abandoned, warm place to spend the night. I snuck around the exterior of the home, into the garden, watching flickering firelight within the home. Little did I know that I'd already been noticed.
I made my way through the garden, trying my best to weave through overgrown brush without making too much noise. It was late at night, and I could see my breath in the cold, crisp air. No, cold was an understatement. All I was wearing was some too-short jeans and a light jacket that I'd stolen from some hikers a few weeks back. I'd tried to join a herd of deer, but they must have sensed something off with me.
Anyway, no one can live off sparse grass for that long, can they?
I stepped up onto the porch, trying to tread as lightly as I could. My foot creaked slightly on the old wood, and I reached my hand out to grab hold of the side to steady myself.
Then, out of nowhere, something hard hit me in the back of the head. I fell forward, still trying to grab hold of the side of the house, which twisted me forward and wretched my shoulder. I cried out, and I felt a weight on my chest and a hand over my mouth.
"Are you alone!?" He hissed at me. I could barely see in the darkness, but I felt the sharp edge of a blade at my throat. I could smell him too. Dirt. Wood. Fire. Canine. Grass. Chimera. Just like me.
I shook my head, since he continued to cover my mouth. He took a minute to look around, then backed off, kneeling in front of me. I sat up, meeting his eyes. He couldn't have been much older than I was, but he was definitely stronger.
"Chimera?" He asked, sounding surprised, but wary.
I nodded, swallowing hard, finding it difficult to find my voice. "D-deer. I acted as a medic."
He raised his knife, breathing heavily, his shoulders lifting and falling. He didn't trust me. Not that I could blame him, of course. Any chimera living out of Rodel lived every single moment on edge, afraid of recapture, of torture, and whatever waited after.
"I escaped six weeks ago. W-with my friend. He..." I looked down. I shouldn't have mentioned Ollie. Every time I thought of him, spoke of him, mentioned him, the weight in my stomach dropped and my heart leapt into my throat. I swallowed hard, and looked down.
He accepted me then. He took me into his home, and together we mused and joked about finding more members, building up an army to fight Rodel ourselves. It was a pipe dream. Something we only joked about.
But then, we found a chimera. Then another. Then another. Suddenly there was a group of us. The dream of...resisting started to become a possibility. A small team, coming from within.
Of course, this was the dead of winter. There was no way all of us, as weak as we were without training would be able to fight. Right?
So, now here I was. I've been here four weeks, and since then new members had joined us. I sat in front of the fireplace, watching the flames flicker. My muscles ached- I had spent the morning training with Adam in the garden. Snow or no snow, we woke up every morning and trained. We wanted to get back to peak shape, just in case.
[Feel free to jump in!]
I made my way through the garden, trying my best to weave through overgrown brush without making too much noise. It was late at night, and I could see my breath in the cold, crisp air. No, cold was an understatement. All I was wearing was some too-short jeans and a light jacket that I'd stolen from some hikers a few weeks back. I'd tried to join a herd of deer, but they must have sensed something off with me.
Anyway, no one can live off sparse grass for that long, can they?
I stepped up onto the porch, trying to tread as lightly as I could. My foot creaked slightly on the old wood, and I reached my hand out to grab hold of the side to steady myself.
Then, out of nowhere, something hard hit me in the back of the head. I fell forward, still trying to grab hold of the side of the house, which twisted me forward and wretched my shoulder. I cried out, and I felt a weight on my chest and a hand over my mouth.
"Are you alone!?" He hissed at me. I could barely see in the darkness, but I felt the sharp edge of a blade at my throat. I could smell him too. Dirt. Wood. Fire. Canine. Grass. Chimera. Just like me.
I shook my head, since he continued to cover my mouth. He took a minute to look around, then backed off, kneeling in front of me. I sat up, meeting his eyes. He couldn't have been much older than I was, but he was definitely stronger.
"Chimera?" He asked, sounding surprised, but wary.
I nodded, swallowing hard, finding it difficult to find my voice. "D-deer. I acted as a medic."
He raised his knife, breathing heavily, his shoulders lifting and falling. He didn't trust me. Not that I could blame him, of course. Any chimera living out of Rodel lived every single moment on edge, afraid of recapture, of torture, and whatever waited after.
"I escaped six weeks ago. W-with my friend. He..." I looked down. I shouldn't have mentioned Ollie. Every time I thought of him, spoke of him, mentioned him, the weight in my stomach dropped and my heart leapt into my throat. I swallowed hard, and looked down.
He accepted me then. He took me into his home, and together we mused and joked about finding more members, building up an army to fight Rodel ourselves. It was a pipe dream. Something we only joked about.
But then, we found a chimera. Then another. Then another. Suddenly there was a group of us. The dream of...resisting started to become a possibility. A small team, coming from within.
Of course, this was the dead of winter. There was no way all of us, as weak as we were without training would be able to fight. Right?
So, now here I was. I've been here four weeks, and since then new members had joined us. I sat in front of the fireplace, watching the flames flicker. My muscles ached- I had spent the morning training with Adam in the garden. Snow or no snow, we woke up every morning and trained. We wanted to get back to peak shape, just in case.
[Feel free to jump in!]
She had found them by chance.
She had fled during one of their battles, and she can remember the sounds of boots following her for ages. Shifting was the only way she could hide, underground. She couldn’t recall how long she had laid in that burrow, but when she crawled out she was starving. And not just for food.
She had found the house, almost frozen, her fingers ready to fall off. Collapsed outside, and practically dragged in. At least, that was how her failed memory filled in the blanks. They interrogated her, found her to be sound, offered her a home...
How could she not accept?
She had been in that lab for thirteen years.
There was no companionship. No love. There were no bedtime stories, no kisses goodnight. No older siblings to tease her. No younger siblings to protect. It was her, and the scientists. Oh, and the guards, how could she ever forget them.
How could she forget her transformation? Their cheering as she successfully turned into a small, coiled cobra, the purest of white with weak red eyes on the operating table. Their ignorance when she changed back and cried, her body screaming in pain. They cared little.
She was three years old.
From there, she rebelled. She would refuse to change, get punished. She would change, but not attack a target, got punished again. Even when locked behind a thick door for days on end to try to change her attitude, the girl would scream obscenities that she shouldn’t have known; one or two guards were given different shifts. The Lab couldn’t have an obscene child tainting the rest of their resources. And especially not after she actually killed a couple of their own when she found her venom.
When solitary confinement didn’t work, corporal punishment was added. And when that didn’t work, the form of punishment turned into straight beatings, both verbal or physical. This had gone on for a few years until her broken spirit couldn’t take it anymore. The loneliness, the lack of genuine attention that didn’t include training or getting poked and prodded, it would mentally wear down anyone. There was no room for love as a science experiment.
Robotic children, that was the only way she could describe it. Parading around in perfect harmony, no footstep out of place. Guns were lifted in unison. And she stood among them, a killing machine among other killing machines. There were no smiles, no scowls. Just straight faces of neutrality. A rather boring reality.
When they had started firing upon the enemy, she woke up. Bullets whizzed past her face, burning her delicate skin. Her knees buckled….
She sat up with a start, a whimper on her lips. A quilted blanket of patchwork colors fell from her body, a long flannel shirt adorning her person revealed soon after. The fire flickered happily before her, dancing and swaying like some spirit of mirth, almost a mockery of her current state of mind. She looked around to where her two companions were. Nick was next to her still, and she reached over to grab his hand with her snow white one. She said nothing, but for that moment after her nightmare, that nightmare of a memory, she needed some kind of assurance that she was real.
That he was real.
He might as well be a decade older than her with how emotionally stunted she was, and he was only half that amount older than she. She took in a shaky breath, looking at him with pale, glassy eyes.
“W-Were safe, right? I w-was dreaming ag-gain?” She stuttered, a normal occurrence after the nightmares. She was embarrassed of course, but the reassurance was all she needed, and if reciprocated, she would let go.
She had fled during one of their battles, and she can remember the sounds of boots following her for ages. Shifting was the only way she could hide, underground. She couldn’t recall how long she had laid in that burrow, but when she crawled out she was starving. And not just for food.
She had found the house, almost frozen, her fingers ready to fall off. Collapsed outside, and practically dragged in. At least, that was how her failed memory filled in the blanks. They interrogated her, found her to be sound, offered her a home...
How could she not accept?
She had been in that lab for thirteen years.
There was no companionship. No love. There were no bedtime stories, no kisses goodnight. No older siblings to tease her. No younger siblings to protect. It was her, and the scientists. Oh, and the guards, how could she ever forget them.
How could she forget her transformation? Their cheering as she successfully turned into a small, coiled cobra, the purest of white with weak red eyes on the operating table. Their ignorance when she changed back and cried, her body screaming in pain. They cared little.
She was three years old.
From there, she rebelled. She would refuse to change, get punished. She would change, but not attack a target, got punished again. Even when locked behind a thick door for days on end to try to change her attitude, the girl would scream obscenities that she shouldn’t have known; one or two guards were given different shifts. The Lab couldn’t have an obscene child tainting the rest of their resources. And especially not after she actually killed a couple of their own when she found her venom.
When solitary confinement didn’t work, corporal punishment was added. And when that didn’t work, the form of punishment turned into straight beatings, both verbal or physical. This had gone on for a few years until her broken spirit couldn’t take it anymore. The loneliness, the lack of genuine attention that didn’t include training or getting poked and prodded, it would mentally wear down anyone. There was no room for love as a science experiment.
Robotic children, that was the only way she could describe it. Parading around in perfect harmony, no footstep out of place. Guns were lifted in unison. And she stood among them, a killing machine among other killing machines. There were no smiles, no scowls. Just straight faces of neutrality. A rather boring reality.
When they had started firing upon the enemy, she woke up. Bullets whizzed past her face, burning her delicate skin. Her knees buckled….
She sat up with a start, a whimper on her lips. A quilted blanket of patchwork colors fell from her body, a long flannel shirt adorning her person revealed soon after. The fire flickered happily before her, dancing and swaying like some spirit of mirth, almost a mockery of her current state of mind. She looked around to where her two companions were. Nick was next to her still, and she reached over to grab his hand with her snow white one. She said nothing, but for that moment after her nightmare, that nightmare of a memory, she needed some kind of assurance that she was real.
That he was real.
He might as well be a decade older than her with how emotionally stunted she was, and he was only half that amount older than she. She took in a shaky breath, looking at him with pale, glassy eyes.
“W-Were safe, right? I w-was dreaming ag-gain?” She stuttered, a normal occurrence after the nightmares. She was embarrassed of course, but the reassurance was all she needed, and if reciprocated, she would let go.
(Hope this fits in haha I can’t promise as long of replies like the others due to work and my baby boy.)
He had been scoping the place out for a couple days now. He knew there was atleast three or so in the old house. He knew they were chimera like him. But his kind were a rarity even in chimera standards. Himself and a select few others were removed after initial training and put through a rigorous and extensive course to make them elites of their kind. He could remember the extra infusions given to him to enhance his already modified abilities. His first cross was with some sort of wolf. But the other fusions were man made mixtures. They made his body burn from the veins out. After this, he wanted nothing to do with the ones who hurt him. When he would refuse to report in, they would bind him to an electrified fence. If he retaliated, he was tranquilized and bound to the fence. He was not sticking around here.
Then came the combat training. Sling was top of his class. This would come into play on their first mission. They were assigned hard targets in enemy territory and Sling was to lead the operation. His groups consisted of two other chimeras and a handful of standard infantry. Upon reaching the first target, Sling had already decided he had enough of his confinement. He dispatched the standard grunts and tried to convince the other chimera to go with him. They were sent to kill him if he attempted escape. They did not make it back to base. He made his way out of Rodel and picked up the scent of this place. He was afraid to approach them after his last run in with his own kind. So he just observed for now. They hadnt noticed him yet so he was trying to keep it that way
He had been scoping the place out for a couple days now. He knew there was atleast three or so in the old house. He knew they were chimera like him. But his kind were a rarity even in chimera standards. Himself and a select few others were removed after initial training and put through a rigorous and extensive course to make them elites of their kind. He could remember the extra infusions given to him to enhance his already modified abilities. His first cross was with some sort of wolf. But the other fusions were man made mixtures. They made his body burn from the veins out. After this, he wanted nothing to do with the ones who hurt him. When he would refuse to report in, they would bind him to an electrified fence. If he retaliated, he was tranquilized and bound to the fence. He was not sticking around here.
Then came the combat training. Sling was top of his class. This would come into play on their first mission. They were assigned hard targets in enemy territory and Sling was to lead the operation. His groups consisted of two other chimeras and a handful of standard infantry. Upon reaching the first target, Sling had already decided he had enough of his confinement. He dispatched the standard grunts and tried to convince the other chimera to go with him. They were sent to kill him if he attempted escape. They did not make it back to base. He made his way out of Rodel and picked up the scent of this place. He was afraid to approach them after his last run in with his own kind. So he just observed for now. They hadnt noticed him yet so he was trying to keep it that way
Nick was drawn out of his thoughts by a hand grabbing his. With a start, a quick intake of breath, he glanced over at the girl next to him. "Hey, everything okay?" He asked quietly, trying not to draw too much attention to her. Perhaps she'd fallen asleep and woken with a start.
His dark eyes searched hers until she spoke, and he let a small, knowing smile cross his face. He had nightmares too. He knew what it was like, waking with such terror and heartache. "Yes." He said gently, squeezing her hands. "It was a dream. You fell asleep. We're safe here." He assured, allowing his hand to simply hold hers lightly. If she wanted to let go, she could.
I glanced behind me. Adam had taken his focus off cleaning his knife long enough to look concerned about Freja. "She's alright." I mouthed to him, and he nodded, though his brows still remained furrowed with worry. To say we were both protective of the younger members of our little group was an understatement.
Freja was young, and so was Charlotte. The little girl had already gone to bed. They'd found her stealing food in the local markets, nearly starved, sick, and freezing from the snowy, wintery cold. Nick had to carry her back and he and Adam had nursed her back to health. She was still weak, and so needed lots of rest.
"Listen, why don't I make you some hot chocolate, hmm?" Nick offered, shrugging the blanket off of his shoulders and pushing himself to a standing position. "Any other takers?"
His dark eyes searched hers until she spoke, and he let a small, knowing smile cross his face. He had nightmares too. He knew what it was like, waking with such terror and heartache. "Yes." He said gently, squeezing her hands. "It was a dream. You fell asleep. We're safe here." He assured, allowing his hand to simply hold hers lightly. If she wanted to let go, she could.
I glanced behind me. Adam had taken his focus off cleaning his knife long enough to look concerned about Freja. "She's alright." I mouthed to him, and he nodded, though his brows still remained furrowed with worry. To say we were both protective of the younger members of our little group was an understatement.
Freja was young, and so was Charlotte. The little girl had already gone to bed. They'd found her stealing food in the local markets, nearly starved, sick, and freezing from the snowy, wintery cold. Nick had to carry her back and he and Adam had nursed her back to health. She was still weak, and so needed lots of rest.
"Listen, why don't I make you some hot chocolate, hmm?" Nick offered, shrugging the blanket off of his shoulders and pushing himself to a standing position. "Any other takers?"
She managed to nod when he assuaged her fears. His hand felt warm and soft in her own, an indication she had been dreaming after all. Every time it happened, every time she recalled horrible memories that manifested in the form of lucid dreams, the girl had to find his familiar hand to remind herself that it was a ghost of the past. She wanted to deny the fact that the possibility of being found and forced back into that situation was still there. The two boys were her foundation, and the others had built up the walls to their little family.
The fire was warm, just like his hand, so it was only natural to doze off when one was looking into the dancing shapes of the yellow tendrils. Which she happened to do quite often if one actually counted. Normally, she would have let her hand go once she received the affirmation of safety, but she took a moment to hold it a little bit longer. Physical touch, the tactility of the sensation felt new, despite the natural sense having been there since before birth. There was time to actually take in what things felt like; the smoothness of her friend's hand, the warmth provided from her flannel nighty, the scratchy texture the wool quilt had due to being so old.
All the while she thought to herself, possibly having looked like she was staring blankly at nothing, Nick and Adam had their silent conversation. She was snapped out of her thoughts at the mention of hot chocolate.
That was another thing. Actual food and drink that wasn't just a necessity. Meals weren't considered something to enjoy back then, they were a means to an end, meant to give the children energy. And even if something tasted horrible, it was always choked down with the fear of both punishment and physical weakness. The idea that edible things could taste good was a concept she was still trying to wrap her head around, but she had decided after the first cup of hot cocoa Nick and Adam had offered her, she absolutely loved it.
Yet something still nagged at the back of her mind, like they were being watched. It was a feeling she never really got over, but it really felt strong suddenly. She always chalked it up to being overly sensitive due to her cobra DNA, but she never actually thought too hard into it. Although she had followed Nick to stand, she glanced around.
"I...feel like there are eyes all around us..." She gripped Nicks hand tighter, afraid he would pull away and think her neurotic. She knew she likely was.
The fire was warm, just like his hand, so it was only natural to doze off when one was looking into the dancing shapes of the yellow tendrils. Which she happened to do quite often if one actually counted. Normally, she would have let her hand go once she received the affirmation of safety, but she took a moment to hold it a little bit longer. Physical touch, the tactility of the sensation felt new, despite the natural sense having been there since before birth. There was time to actually take in what things felt like; the smoothness of her friend's hand, the warmth provided from her flannel nighty, the scratchy texture the wool quilt had due to being so old.
All the while she thought to herself, possibly having looked like she was staring blankly at nothing, Nick and Adam had their silent conversation. She was snapped out of her thoughts at the mention of hot chocolate.
That was another thing. Actual food and drink that wasn't just a necessity. Meals weren't considered something to enjoy back then, they were a means to an end, meant to give the children energy. And even if something tasted horrible, it was always choked down with the fear of both punishment and physical weakness. The idea that edible things could taste good was a concept she was still trying to wrap her head around, but she had decided after the first cup of hot cocoa Nick and Adam had offered her, she absolutely loved it.
Yet something still nagged at the back of her mind, like they were being watched. It was a feeling she never really got over, but it really felt strong suddenly. She always chalked it up to being overly sensitive due to her cobra DNA, but she never actually thought too hard into it. Although she had followed Nick to stand, she glanced around.
"I...feel like there are eyes all around us..." She gripped Nicks hand tighter, afraid he would pull away and think her neurotic. She knew she likely was.
His gaze became heavy with longing as he watched the warm glow within the walls of the old house. He was not sure if he would fit in with them. He knew they were like him. But his last experience with his own kind ended with him taking their lives in self defense. Were these few different than the rest? Or was this some ploy to recapture this chimera who had managed to escape. Slowly, he stood up and snuck into the yard of the old house making little noise. He wanted to just catch a glimpse of the inside to humor his curiosity.
His thoughts flashed back to the old barracks they were kept in as he peered through the window of the house silently. It looked cozy and warm. His old barracks were never comfortable in any season. The smell of chocolate filled his nose and his eyes widened. What was that sweet aroma? He had not smelled it before. It was so hypnotizing that he lost his focus and slipped a little outside. He regained his footing quickly hoping he hadn’t been heard and made his way back to the same place he entered the compound from
His thoughts flashed back to the old barracks they were kept in as he peered through the window of the house silently. It looked cozy and warm. His old barracks were never comfortable in any season. The smell of chocolate filled his nose and his eyes widened. What was that sweet aroma? He had not smelled it before. It was so hypnotizing that he lost his focus and slipped a little outside. He regained his footing quickly hoping he hadn’t been heard and made his way back to the same place he entered the compound from
The first thing that came to her mind when she found the house was that this was suspect, and should be reported to her captain, but she was also curious, who could be living there? Were they hiding something? Were they just running away? As any curious cat, the chimera decided she wanted to know. Of course, there were a big chance of this being dangerous, but it's not like anyone would miss her.
Then the smell of other chimeras came to her, and she freezed, ready to run for her unity like a scared little child with any possible danger, because chimeras were created by the rodel, and she just couldn't go back to then. But it never came.
Very slowly, she managed to get up in a tree without making any sound (silence was a technic she perfected over the years), and stayed there, studying the enemy, like the captain would want her to do
((Sorry for taking so long to repy))
Then the smell of other chimeras came to her, and she freezed, ready to run for her unity like a scared little child with any possible danger, because chimeras were created by the rodel, and she just couldn't go back to then. But it never came.
Very slowly, she managed to get up in a tree without making any sound (silence was a technic she perfected over the years), and stayed there, studying the enemy, like the captain would want her to do
((Sorry for taking so long to repy))
As he made his way back to his hiding place across the wayfrkm the house. He caught a new scent that he hadn’t smelled before. He looked around for a bit before noticing the silhouette climbing a tree. He slipped into the shadows before it reached the top of the tree and watched as it settled in. He made his way quietly as he could to the base of the tree and waited to see what this new chimera was going to do.
He hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a confrontation and blow his cover. But he was ready for a fight if need be. He drew is combat knife and sat ready for a fight
He hoped that this wouldn’t turn into a confrontation and blow his cover. But he was ready for a fight if need be. He drew is combat knife and sat ready for a fight