Black Eyed Dog

By Willow Taylor

Victor lit another flare and duct taped it to the wall.

"Man this cavern is huge," he said to himself. His brown eyes skimmed the darkness. "Alright, I know you're out there, dog." The hunter lit a cigarette and took a deep breath. The smell wasn't as bad this time around. With the added light from his flares and "child-beater" sized flashlight, he could see that despite what it felt like, and looked like since the liquid was a solid pitch black that absorbed light, it was in fact just water that covered the floor.

"Well I can start here." He knelt down in the water, feeling it slosh into his boots and winced. Then he began to pray. As he prayed he pulled a bottle from the saddlebag slung over his shoulder, and dripped it into the water. It cleared, in a sparkling wave, suddenly reflecting the light instead of absorbing it. The cavern got brighter, and Victor could make out shapes on the walls. They appeared to be... people, curled up in fetal positions.

"This just gets weirder and weirder," Victor muttered to himself, heading deeper into the cave.

"What are you looking for," a voice asked him.

"Shaper." Victor reached under his jacket and loosened his gun in the holster.

"Why?"

"Because he's my friend."

"That's so sweet," came another voice from further off in the cave. Despite the echoes Victor recognized it as Shaper's. It also sounded weak. He rushed towards it.

"Shaper?"

"Up here." Victor craned his neck to see the rizen trapped half in-half out of one of the bubbles that held human forms on the wall. "And boy I got some bad news."

"Like what?" Something crashed down on the back of Victor's neck and he tumbled down into the water.

"Like the demented copy of mine standing behind you..."

Victor rolled and fired the figure who'd hit him stared at the holes in its chest for a moment, then looked back at Victor with the same black empty eyes of the dog.

"That didn't hurt."

"Figures," snarled Victor. He reached inside his coat again, and flung out a flight of shining dart-like objects. The black-eyed Shaper caught two in his hands, but two more imbedded themselves in its eyes. The creature fell down. Shaper managed to disentangle himself from the wall.

"Whoa... you killed me!"

"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while," Victor said, rubbing the back of his head. "Trying to figure out what would kill you, at least when you weren't wearing the mask. And since that thing didn't have a mask..."

"But you killed me!"

"Get over it, it wasn't you!"

"But...!"

"Shaper..." Victor lit another clove, having lost his last one during the attack. "Now mind telling what other bad news you had."

"Oh yeah." Shaper grinned. "Well when I was absorbed, but before it spit me out as indigestible, I learned something about it."

"About what?"

"The black eyes." Shaper closed his eyes for a moment. "That's the important part. You weakened it somehow, I felt it before I started coming out of the... mess I guess."

"Nice description, corpse boy."

"I'm a little shaken up!" snapped Shaper, and he pressed a hand to his forehead. "Oh, and you're about to get jumped again."

"What?"

A growl drowned out Shaper's reply as the dog leapt on Victor savagely growling at him and straining to reach the hunter's throat.

"Victor! What should I do?!"

"Stay away!" Victor warned.

"Uhm..."

Gloved fingers scrabbled for a hold on slick brown-black fur, as slavering ivory fangs sought pale flesh.

"Are you sure you don't want help, Victor?"

"UGH!" Straining to keep the dog away from him, Victor's fangs slipped from their sheaths. Suddenly the world slipped into focus, like he had been seeing everything blurred. But in the back of his mind, he saw the battle of the garou, and the death of the family. Fangs bared in a grin, he dug a thumb into the dog's eye. It popped with a sick noise, like a cross between a grape and a giant boil, dripping filthy ichor down his arm. Now the dog was trying to get away from Angel. The hunter wasn't letting go. He wrapped his arms around the canine and squeezed. There was a sharp crack. The dog howled again, clawing at Angel as best it could.

"No," he growled, brown eyes narrowed. "Bad Dog." It whined. Shaper just stood and stared. While this was closer to the Victor he knew, it was still a new depth. He really wanted to be nowhere near these moors at the moment. Angel bared his fangs for a strike.

"Uh... you probably don't want to do that," Shaper felt it necessary to point out.

Victor shook his head, wet hair clinging to his forehead, as he came back to himself. The dog whined once more, convulsing and lay still. He let it go.

"Are you going to trust that?" Shaper asked.

"Hell no." In a blur of action, the soaked wiry man drew his long knife and struck the dog's head off. Then he took the precaution of poking out the other eye.

"Well that was anticlimactic," Shaper commented. As if in response to his words, a bit of dirt grated down from the ceiling.

"Uhm..." They looked at each other, then booked out, following Victor's trail of flares, as that dirt was followed by gravel, then large hunks of rock.

"Oh shit!" swore Victor, glancing over his shoulder "Do you know how long it took me to make those spirit daggers? I used them all!"

"Somehow, I'm not concerned that you're out of a weapon that could kill me," Shaper spat. He grabbed Victor by the upper arm, clapping his mask on, and booked it.

"What a mess."

"Yup." Victor cupped his hands in front of his mouth and lit a clove. Murky brown-brown eyes surveyed the sinkhole that had been the field and forest. Over the horizon, a large leggy gray horse appeared and walked up to them.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

Damyew nudged the saddlebags over Victor's shoulders. "Sorry. These only have my stuff in them. The ones with your feed were still in the barn." Damyew decided to try and eat Victor's hair instead. "Damn horse!" Victor swatted the beast away affectionately.

"Can we get out of here now?" Shaper asked plaintively. "Before something else happens?"

"Yeah." They started walking down the road. "Damn I really am getting too old for this."

"Yeah, me too."

"Oh like you're that old."

Under his banter, Victor felt a soft breeze brush across his cheek like a butterfly kiss, and thought he heard, just barely, "Thank you."