Charlie found himself waking up in a cage.
His point of view was low to the ground-impossibly so. There was a cage around him, he could see the steel bars. An unfamiliar man paced back and forth in front of the counters that rose up around the room. Charlie tried to stand up, but soon found that he could only raise himself onto all fours.
Looking down, he realized why he could ONLY get to all fours. In place of arms and hands he had forelegs and paws. And instead of seeing the muscular, anthro body that he had become accustomed to, what he saw was a small, feral form – the form of a wolf pup. He was a wolf pup. Which was… odd? He remembered chasing a witch down a hallway. And now he was a puppy in a cage in the laboratory of a mad scientist.
Lab equipment was set up throughout the room. It was strangely modern, with tile floors and a brightly lit room. Glass beakers bubbled away and, on the wall, formulae were written in chalk. The man, a strange anthropomorphic skunk, was dressed in a white coat and wearing thick hide gloves.
“Potion 972!” The man’s voice was raspy, toeing a dead puppy with his boot, ”Ineffective.”
Charlie tried to scream, though it came out a scruffy yelp.
The scientist turned and smiled, clicking his tongue and making his way over to Charlie’s cage.
“Hey there pup.” The man’s eyes were bug-like behind the thick glasses on his muzzle. “Don’t feel bad. You are serving a greater purpose!”
Charlie cocked his head.
“What purpose?” The man interpreted Charlie’s body language correctly. “Why, Hornsbottom Alchemical Institute, of course!”
Charlie whimpered.
He knew of that place, because he’d written it as a throwaway line in his backstory. That was where he’d made his first kills. He’d written himself as a sort of bogeyman, like Jason or Freddie, someone who hunted people down, not just one person, but whole groups.
“Oh, don’t be like that!” The scientist straightened and made his way to the potion rack. “I haven’t gotten the formula quite right, but we’re close! Maybe…a hundred failed potions to go.”
Well, he’d be very worried if he didn’t know that this was likely his origin story and he’d survive the potion. Still he found himself whining anyways, responding mostly to the pitch of the man’s voice more than anything. This man was evil and knew it. Reveled in it.
“Well, you may not like it, but sacrifices need to be made in the name of SCIENCE!” Thunder echoed in the lab as lightning flashed outside dramatically. “Not that Hornsbottom ever understood that! It’s sooo easy to make it to the Director’s position when the Institute has your great-great-great-grandfather’s name on it! Nepotism and corruption and favoritism run rampant and I’m here attempting to uplift lower species and all they have to say is that it’s heretical and immoral.”
“Pah!” The scientist shouted, pacing. “Heretical! As if the gods really care. Somehow, they care if we eat pork or shellfish or uplift lifeforms. Why? There’s no answer to that.”
“No, they didn’t understand.” The man continued ranting. “If you want progress, you need to be able to make a few mistakes. Yes, these procedures are banned and considered ethically dubious, but they also make weapons of war, so maybe they should rethink their lucrative military contracts before judging me.”
That seemed... oddly fair to Charlie, but the man was going to try to make him drink a deadly potion, so he wasn’t quite so sympathetic.
“And to work my own special magic!” the scientist cried out as he pointed his ass towards Charlie. As the scientist dropped his pants and raised his tail, Charlie caught a brief glimpse of the skunk’s ass before the scientist pressed a flask up against himself.
Charlie heard a slight grunt and watched as a green fluid shot out into the flask, mixing with its contents to form a new liquid that glowed midnight black.
Given what had just transpired, Charlie had half expected a foul stench to clog the room’s air, but the lack of any such scent caused him to realize that his nostrils were still clogged with soot from the chimney. As much of a benefit as that may be, given the current circumstances, he knew that he needed all of his senses on full alert if he was going to escape from whatever it was that he was currently trapped in.
Quickly scanning the room, Charlie saw a bowl of water nearby, set next to some kibble. Fortunately for him, whatever spell the hag had used to create this world had pulled directly from one of “memories” of Charlie’s new life, without taking into account that some aspects of this memory may be beneficial to him.
Trotting over on puppy legs, Charlie dunked his snout in the relatively shallow water and blew some bubbles, making the water murky as black soot filled it. That wasn’t enough though.
Taking a breath, he inhaled some water and coughed and gagged, spitting sludge onto the floor of his cage. It was painful and he whined and cried, but the sharp, fiery pain abated and he was soon breathing through a clear snout again.
He could smell the man now, locking his scent away for the future. And…he sniffed again… he could smell other things. Caustic liquids, gas burning, and…something horrid. Almost like an old cat, but infinitely grimier and gross. It was nearby, though he couldn’t see anything when he looked in the direction the smell came from.
Was the hag invisible?
Oh, yeah, of course she was. Sweet Alice was a gods be damned Night Hag, invisibility was one of her many spells. As were several illusion and dream spells. Which explained how his backstory was playing back to him. She had read his mind. Was she reading it now?
The man held up a vial to the light. “Good clarity. Proper color. Yes, I believe this one might work.”
Maybe she didn’t have to read his mind. Because…because…because the potion was the real danger here! It looked like an origin story, but if it continued to play out, it might be his denouement.
Charlie backed away into the corner of his cage as the scientist opened it up.
“Come on pup. This time I will succeed! This time I will create my angel of vengeance! You will become my wrath – an assassin that brings ruin to those would slight or insult me!” The scientist cackled.
“When they kicked me out they said ‘Charles, you don’t belong here!” the scientist continued, “I’ll call you Charles, just like myself. And then, as they lay choking in their own blood, they can beg Charles for a mercy that you will never grant them!”
This was his origin story? Charlie thought. This man was insane. How did Charlie the assassin end up so well adjusted with a creator like this?
No time to think about that - Charlie dodged out of the way of the man’s hide-covered glove, evading the cliched origin playing out before him. As he scrambled past the scientist’s outstretched arm he nipped the soft skin at the crook of his elbow. The man snatched his arm back with a shriek.
The wolf pup scrabbled on the tile floor, claws clacking and failing to find proper purchase.
He could smell it more strongly now. The hag’s stench radiated from a spot in the far corner of the room. She liked to watch. Well, that would be her downfall.
“Charles!” The scientist screamed.
Charlie glanced back just in time to see the scientist cock his hand back and throw the vial. The pup skittered to a halt, attempting to dodge. He was only partially successful. The potion splattered on the ground and splashed across the wolf’s fur coat.
His fur began to twist and grow longer. Soon, long strands of brown and gray yarn flopped around the pup. Yarn. The potion had soaked into his fur, penetrating the upper layers of his skin. Flesh warped as the substance absorbed into the outer layers of his body, converting skin into cloth and hair follicles into something else – something that grew yarn instead of fur.
In a flash Charlie had gone from a normal wolf pup to a strange yarn furred hybrid. If that’s what it did to his outsides… Charlie could only imagine what would have happened to him if it had gotten into his insides. And that was something he was thankful for, because underneath his fabric skin and yarn fur coat was still muscle and bone. He could still move and, more importantly, still fight.
Charlie scrambled close to the source of the evil smell that filled his nose. He needed to hurry, before the scientist caught him – or threw something else at him - but he also had to appear to be doing it haphazardly, like he was running away from the man. Like he wasn’t running straight towards the source of that smell. Towards the hag.
Which he was.
He skittered to a stop near the hag’s hiding place and whimpered.
Behind him, the stench shuffled sideways a little, but not out of range of Charlie’s teeth. As the man closed in on him, Charlie turned and leapt. He opened his mouth wide, and with a snap, closed his jaws around a warm, furry throat.
He shook his head wildly, with the fury of a thousand suns. There came a snap, and the illusion fell away – the laboratory with its bubbling beakers and ingredient stocked shelves evaporated into a small, empty room. The hag, a tiny three foot tall cat, hung limp as a rag doll in Charlie’s mouth.
Charlie trotted out of the room, down the rather short hallway, into the living room. He spat the hag’s corpse into the fire and watched it smoke and burn. As someone once said, there was no kill like overkill.
Then he decided to find his friends.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
“I cannot believe you fell for her tricks!” Gregory spat angrily at Geoffrey.
“I’m sorry, my liege. I had no idea what was going on.” Geoffrey replied glumly.
Charlie snorted.
The two had been arguing ever since he had returned their souls to them. It had been easy as the hag hadn’t had the time to store them away. Returning their true forms to them had been a simple matter of forcing them both to drink the…soul essence, or juice or whatever, and BAM! Polar Bear and Mink, together again.
And now they were standing in the basement. Lining the shelves were small jars filled with glowing, glittering syrup. Soul essence. Below each soul bottle was a hand-written placard that purportedly identified what the soul was. Unfortunately, it was written in a language no one understood.
“What should we do with this stuff?” Charlie finally asked the bickering duo.
“I can’t read those placards and I am not going to be experimenting.” Gregory said firmly. “Geoffrey, drink one.”
“No.” Geoffrey replied.
“That’s an order!”
“Nope.” Geoffrey said firmly.
“Well what do you suggest then, Bringer of Light?” Gregory suggested mockingly.
“Bring them to Glitz.” Geoffrey said firmly. “Soul Essence and Tailoring sound the same.”
“Of course! I’m a genius,” Gregory turned to Charlie and grinned. “Charles, take these shelves and bring them to Glitz. I’m sure he’ll give us another Coin for it. Oh, and the Hag’s body. Two Coins!”
“Of course.” Charlie bowed.
“And maybe turn Geoffrey into someone more useful.” Gregory sniffed and ran up the stairs.
“M-my liege!” Geoffrey cried, running after the Prince. “Don’t run off like that!”
Charlie sighed and examined the shelves. His mind wasn’t on the soul essence, but on his backstory. He hadn’t written that. Of course, he hadn’t delved deeply into his childhood in his three page essay, most of it was about The Order. Had Finn created this whole cloth? That sounded like a lot of work. More likely…he’d ran his backstory and let the AI generate the rest.
“Amazing!” Charlie whispered to himself.
With that, he gathered up what he could and piled it onto their carriage. Time to get looting. And maybe searching the house afterwards for secret doors and such. Always have to do that. They’d probably be late for the caravan, but they could catch up when it stopped for the night.