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Dan felt a pain in his side, he clutched it painfully hard almost numbing the pain. It was hunger. Pure, raw, hunger. He couldn't take it anymore.

His eyes scanned the blank, grey surroundings to find nothing but the dim light shining on the food-less streets.

He groaned and brought his knees to his chest, bowing his head in defeat.

He hated this, being so useless. Nekos were supposed to be strong, the perfect hybrid of humans and cats- two strong, bold creatures.

Dan found himself struggling for breath, it was as if he was being strangled. But no, it was just his body shutting down. It could no longer sustain itself. It seemed that the only thing that kept him alive was the will to live or more likely, the fear of dying.

He shuddered, clutching his legs. 'Please, someone, save me from this hell.' He whimpered, his claws scratching at his broken skin, breaking and tearing it apart. He was, literally, tearing himself to shreds. He smiled at each drop of blood because it was the only proof that this was a reality yet it was one of the many things bringing him closer to his demise.

A tear ran lone down his cheek, he was conflicted. He sat on the line between life and death, he was too late to be saved.

No one cared for Nekos anymore. There was a one in a million chance that they would even glance at you- the likelihood of being taken in was close to none.

Dan never had hope, he was a pessimist, unable to see the good in situations. This was deemed to be the ruin of him, he had no hope to get better nor did he care to, he would die in the streets knowing he did as much as he could himself- careless of others.

It was his downfall, really, he didn't allow himself to rely on others. If he had, he was sure to have had found a home at this rate, whether it was a nice on or not. At least, if he had, he would have a roof over his head.

Dan, seeing rays of light peek out from the horizon, hesitantly he stood up and felt his legs being crushed under his weight but either way he took steps towards freedom, towards the next block of houses, all of which were still asleep- the residence at least.

The street stretched out for miles, crossing over the flat surface of Portland. What a dull place, he had lived here his whole life. He found it beautiful until he was kicked onto the streets by his former, cruel owner only a month before.

His owner didn't care about him and wanted to sell him off but after being unable to find a single buyer that would pay enough he hid him, fearing people would come after him. His paranoia got to him and he inevitably kicked Dan out and pretended to have sold him before ending himself only a month later, a pitiful ending for a cruel man.

Dan didn't mind, he was left in the same condition he had been before- alone. But now, he was starving and the hunger was driving him to insanity. It felt so contrasting to his childhood. When he was growing up, back when his parents were alive, he had led a happy life. His parents were two Nekos, beautiful and majestic with sleek black fur and tanned, smooth skin. Both of their eyes shined brown and full of life...until that light was snuffed out. His parents had been killed and his small house in the woods burnt, nothing but ashes left behind.

Dan, being less than five at the time, was left to rot in the woods that surrounded his former home.

As a Neko, it wasn't long before someone had found him for at that time, Nekos could be sold at a high price and that was exactly what his new master had tried...and inevitably failed. He had kept Dan for fifteen years and never did anyone satisfy his greed for money.

That was what had led Dan to where he was now, alone in the streets of Portland, wandering aimlessly and lost to an unknown destination. His time was coming to an end, he might as well feel free until is came.

-

Phil traced his scars with his index finger, the pale red lines across his chest bestowing a sense of dread in his stomach. He was scared, yes, Phil didn't say it often but he was scared. He didn't want it to happen again but how could he stop it?

When he had bought his house, his life had been happy and dandy. Now, it was in ruins like a ribbon torn apart singlehandedly by one man. That one man still didn't have a name, just a face. A face that would show up on Phil's doorstep, a knife in hand. A criminal that's pride was too large to ask for it. Phil, too nice for his own good, had given him money voluntarily once...then twice...then again...and it seemed that the man would be coming back for good.

Phil, on gut instinct, finally said no and in return, the man's knife had traced his stomach- not enough to do any major damage but a warning nonetheless. The scar it had left behind was faint and wouldn't last forever but it was still a grave reminder of what would happen. 

Phil wanted to go home. But, his mother wouldn't let him. She had enough on her plate and he did too. With his new dread awful job, he had to stay- the stupid contract said so.

His dreams of doing something else, anything else, had dispersed to nothing. He was left a hopeless mess just tracing his scars until he would eventually fall into a deep sleep on his tattered sofa in his dead apartment.

Phil glanced out the window to see the simple landscape of Portland. Looking down, he saw the familiar street that ran for miles, seeing only a shadow in the distance- insignificant and dull. Just a black dot on the horizon, no different from the rest.

What Phil didn't know was that he was truly and utterly wrong. That black dot on the horizon would be his saviour and it wouldn't be long until he found him, wandering past his house like a ghost, looking desperately at the houses in hopes for food.

Their lives hadn't collided...yet.

word count: 1077

published: 19/01/17

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