Scars Bleed Gold

Company Loves Misery

The both of us had resigned ourselves to sitting against the wall, watching the door and waiting for that inevitable moment when it burst open. "How much time do you think we have?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mal constantly flicking her head back to me, checking on me as I wiped wetness away from my cheeks. "Not enough. Maybe time for some final words? An opportunity for you to get it all out, really let me have it."

I closed my eyes, preparing for what she might come up with, what venom she might spit at me for failing over and over. All that came was a soft sigh and misplaced words of kindness.

"Let you have it? Do you believe I blame you? For this? For anything?"

"Who else is there to blame? I'm the one that couldn't stop messing up. Now look at you, watching the door of your prison patiently waiting for your doom, and guess who that's on? Ka-ching, that's right baby! It's on me."

"How about the overwhelming force that few could even hope to stand against? That's a good blame. You can't stop them, there's no getting away from them. Just a delay at best."

"But—"

She held up a paw, silencing me. I wiped away again as she continued, taking a shuddering breath. "I knew I'd never truly get away. It was only a vacation if it was anything at all, and I carried you into this because of it."

"It's my fault you got shot! I thought I watched you die!"

"Give me a break! Of all the things in this world, 'normal' or not, I will not be going out like that! Maybe a showdown with the hounds, or a one-woman army scenario." she stifled a laugh at the notion. I could imagine it easily, Mal ripping and tearing through a never-ending horde with nothing but a chainsaw, her claws, and sheer force of will. 

"I'm not going to just sit down and take it, and I won't let you either. Neither of us are going to die that easily. Drill that through your skull."

Mal reached over and clasped my hand firmly within hers. With a tug she pulled me closer, setting my head on her shoulder.

How fast she moved on, and how quickly she got over it? It was like she didn't even care. Like she didn't actually blame me. Mal hasn't been the lying type either. No point in a time like this. Maybe she has the right idea, just putting it behind us and enjoying the moment. We only had so many left, after all. Best to spend them wisely.

That still didn't ease the feeling of guilt hanging over my head as the seconds ticked down to the inevitable moment that the outer door crashed open, men pouring in with weapons drawn.

Mal drew herself to her full height, hackles raised and tail stiff. Her claws seemed to have a certain glint to them. As they lined up like a firing squad, they seemed hesitant and almost nervous. A low rumble filled the room the moment they trained their weapons on us.

One began shouting orders I couldn't understand while making sure to brandish his weapon. When neither of us moved, he waved a man onwards. One guard stepped forward, putting his weapon away and pulling out an oversized cattle-prod with some handcuffs. It wasn't until the man grabbed me that I realized the rumble was growling.

The wolf moved faster than anyone could register, grabbing the man with a single paw and tossing him into the firing line like he was nothing but a sack of feathers. She bowled a strike, knocking them all down but they were quick to recover, spreading out and moving in from all sides to restrain and contain us.

The majority focused on subduing the colossal furry, while just two guards eyed me up and down with malicious intent, flicking a switch on their weapons.