I stood frozen, staring at the bottle of chloroform in Nessy's trembling right hand, the rainbow-dog towel dangling from her left. The gray eye on her vest pulsed with an eerie rhythm, its gaze boring into me like a predator sizing up prey. My heart pounded, not just from the immediate threat of being knocked out, but from the chilling realization that Nessy—my Nessy, the loyal, vibrant husky who'd been my greatest anchor in this insane world—was slipping away.

The needle of the spider-calculator-watch stung, embedded deep in my skin. I'd already died once, been rewound, and the memory of that failure hung heavy over my shoulders. Whatever had killed me before, I couldn't prevent, if Nessy put me to sleep.

Krysanthea's muffled protests from the shopping cart grew more desperate, her amber eyes locked on me, urging me to act. The Strand sisters, their limbs entwined, twisted and crammed into the cart like tetris blocks, glared at Nessy.

"Nessy," I said, my voice low and steady. "Put the chloroform down. You don't want to do this."

Her ears twitched, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw hesitation in her manic blue eyes. But then the gray eye on her vest pulsed again, and a non-Nessy smirk returned, sharp and unhinged.

"Oh, Alec, you sweet, silly tree," she cooed, her voice dripping with condescension. "You think you can talk me out of this? I'm the manager! I'm in charge! And you—" She jabbed the towel-wrapped bottle toward me, the chemical's sharp scent already stinging my nose. "You're just confused. A little nap, and you'll see I'm right. Everything will be fixed when you wake up!"

Whatever was influencing her, it was using her pain, her years of hurt, to twist her into this version of herself. I had to untangle it, had to find the real Nessy beneath the Supercenter's grip.

"You're not fixing anything by hurting us," I said, keeping my eyes locked on hers, ignoring the gray eye's stare. "This isn't what a pack does. You taught me that, Nessy."

Her tail flicked, and the bat in her other paw dipped slightly. "Don't," she snapped, but her voice wavered. "Don't try to use my own words against me. I'm doing this for the pack! For you! For them!" She gestured at the cart, where Krysanthea's eyes widened with frustration. "They're the ones who broke everything! They're the ones who never listened, who never cared!"

"I know they hurt you," I said, taking another cautious step closer. "I know they were cruel, and I'm so sorry you went through that alone. But this—" I gestured at the cart, the chloroform, the artifacts dangling from her neck and wrist. "This isn't you. The Nessy I know sings to lift people up. She fights for her pack, not against it. She's the one who saved me from drowning, who brought me to Ferguson, who made me feel like I belonged!"

Her paws shook, the chloroform bottle tilting dangerously. "Stop it," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "You don't… you don't know what it's like. To be pushed aside, mocked, treated like nothing for so long. To try so hard and still not be enough!"

"I do know," I said. "I was murdered, Nessy. Drowned in a bathtub because of someone else's mistakes. I woke up in a world that didn't make sense, with no one to guide me. But then I found you. You gave me a reason to keep going. You… You're enough for me!"

Nessy's eyes filled with tears but she flashed in one spot and blinked rapidly.

"Liar!" she barked. "You're just saying that to stop me! You're siding with them, with her!" She pointed at Krysanthea, who made a muffled sound, her claws straining against the zip ties.

"I'm not siding with anyone," I said, holding my ground despite the threat of chloroform. "I'm fighting for you, Nessy. For us. For our pack. But I can't do that if you're lost to that eye. You have to fight it!"

The gray eye on Nessy's vest pulsed again, and her expression hardened, the fleeting vulnerability gone. "Lost? I'm not lost, Alec. I'm found! The Good Directorate Supercenter sees me. Insurance values me! Unlike them!" She jabbed the towel at the shopping cart. "Unlike you! You… you lick miser!"

"Nessy," I said, "If you want more licks, you're welcome to them after you free Kristi. The Supercenter doesn't value you. It's using you. Those artifacts—" I said. "They're not tools. They're traps. They're stealing pieces of you, just like they stole from Katerina, Kaledoniya, and Kirra."

Her ears flicked back, and for a moment, I thought I'd reached her. But then she laughed bitterly. "Stealing? No, no, no. I'm unstoppable now, Alec! I'm the best manager this store's ever had!"

"You're not unstoppable," I said. "You're exhausted. You're not thinking straight, becoming someone else and deep down, you know it."

Her grin faltered, and the gray eye on her vest dimmed slightly, as if my words had momentarily disrupted its hold. But then she shook her head violently, her fur bristling. "I'm fine! I'm better than fine! I'm saving their stupid souls, proving I'm not the worthless mutt they think I am!"

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

"You're not worthless, Ness," I said, taking a slow step forward. "You never were. You're the strongest person I know, Nessy. You ran across highway 69, across the city full of Systemfall monsters to find me. You saved Ferguson from the slime dungeon. You built Fort Pack with us. You don't need to prove anything to anyone—not to them, not to this store, especially not to me."

Tears welled in her eyes again, but she blinked them away, her grip tightening on the chloroform bottle. "You're wrong," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I have to prove it. I have to make them see. I have to make her see." She glanced at Krysanthea, and the pain in her expression was raw, a wound that had festered for years.

I followed her gaze to Krysanthea, whose muffled protests had quieted, her amber eyes now soft with something like regret. The sight of her, bound and silenced, sparked a surge of anger in me—not at Nessy, but at the circumstances that had driven Nessy to this point of no return.

"Nessy," I said, "Krysanthea does see you."

"Does she really? Or does she see me as competition? An impediment to owning you?"

"She's in our pack because she trusts you. She fought beside you in the slime dungeon. She made breakfast with you in the RV and helped Bulwichu bloom with Bulbees. She's not perfect—she made mistakes, let her sisters hurt you—but she's trying to make it right. Right?" I looked at Kristi.

The bound raptor nodded.

Nessy's eye twitched.

"Tying her up, tying them up, isn't going to fix the past. It's only going to hurt you more–make them trust you less." I said.

"I don't need their effin' trust," Nessy growled. "I don't need anyone… except for you in my life. You're the only thing that matters. You. I haven't seen you for weeks, Alec… and before you say anything–I had to do it, had to work my way up to manager, had to buy a never-ending coffee thermos, had to get here as quickly as I could… because I sniffed that you would die out here in shopping cart hell. Permanently. Past Reconstitution. I sniffed every possible path. There is no other way forward. These raptors are always going to hate me… especially Kat."

"Why?"

"Because a pack of male dogs attacked Katerina when she was just a teen. I sniffed it a while ago and used the watch and some bottled 'Truth' for 99'99 to confirm it!"

Katerina reacted violently within the confines of the shopping cart to Nessy's statement, thrashing against the zip ties, her muffled snarls barely contained by the chew toy gag. Her golden eyes, fixed on the husky, blazed with an incandescent fury that transcended mere anger—it was the raw, visceral rage of someone whose deepest wound had just been ripped open and exposed for everyone to hear.

Even Krysanthea, standing beside her bound sister, looked stunned, her amber eyes wide with a dawning horror, perhaps understanding the depth of her family's prejudice for the first time.

"See? Katerina will always see me as her enemy," Nessy said. "There's no solving this divide, no putting aside this hatred. We're returning these artifacts, working here to make enough savings for a lifetime of adventure… Then we'll buy stuff that'll make us invincible and then you and I are going to drive our RV from Ferguson."

"And Kristi?"

"She's a raptor and will never see me as her equal," Nessy shook her head. "So, I'm done trying to help her, done trying to… I… I just want to be happy, damn it! Is that too much to ask for?!" she yelled out loud.

The raw pain in her voice echoed in the endless equipment shed. The gray eye on her vest observed me with cold indifference. It felt like I wasn't just talking to Nessy anymore, but to the Supercenter itself, wearing her pain like a mask. Was the store unhappy, serving infinite customers forever?

"They'll always see me as the mutt," she continued. "The stray who doesn't belong in their perfect, pedigreed world. Kristi might tolerate me for your sake, Alec, but she'll never truly accept me. And her sisters? They'll sabotage us every chance they get. There's no future for us in Ferguson. Not really. Not together."

She stepped closer to me, the manic energy replaced by a desperate intensity. "But we can make our own future! Away from them! We work here, pay off my debt—because I actually will pay and work hard—get strong, get rich, get geared up, and then we leave. Just you and me, Alec. In our RV. We can explore other dimensions, drive from the Supercenter to a world that's not been destroyed by Systemfall, where no one knows us, where we can finally just... be together."

Her vision, born of caffeine, exhaustion, heartbreak and whatever the eye represented, was tragically flawed, yet utterly sincere. But it wasn't our future. It was her escape fantasy, fueled by whatever alien influence held sway over her thoughts.

"Nessy," I started, trying one last time. I reached out and hugged her fiercely.

She hugged me back, but her hug wasn't soft, it was tense, wound up like a spring about to pounce.

"Please, I care for you, but—" I began softly.

Her body flickered before I finished.

The rainbow-dog towel, soaked in the cloying sweetness of chloroform, pressed firmly against my nose and mouth. I instinctively tried to pull away, to fight back, but her pradavarian grip was stronger than my struggling.

"Shhhh," she whispered, her tear-filled eyes meeting mine as she held me. "No argue. Only sleep now. Have a nap on the cart. Kristi can roll you there. When you wake up, everything's gonna be… solved n' fine n' better."

I struggled, thrashing against her hold, trying to twist my head away from the suffocating fumes. My lungs burned, my vision swam. Krysanthea and the sisters were making frantic, muffled noises from the cart, their struggles futile against the zip ties.

No, I thought desperately, clawing at her arms. Not like this.

I focused my will, trying to fight the encroaching darkness, trying to hold onto consciousness, onto myself. But the chemical mire was too strong, dragging me down, dissolving my thoughts, pulling me under.

Failure. The thought echoed as my connection to the world dissolved. I failed her. Failed everyone. Again. Damn it.

Then, a sharp sting on my wrist. Red static filled the void.

[LINEARITY INTERRUPTED. REWINDING USER.]

[SAVEPOINT LOADING...]

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.