Chapters 1 2 3 4 5 6 7
A/N: As most of you know by now, I love cats. I'm that weird cat lady in the flesh :P So I really enjoyed writing this one, as the thought of a demon trapped in a cat's body amuses me. All cats are inherently evil, after all... XD Mine especially. heh. But being a good slave, I worship at their altar anyway. Anyhoo, this one is for all of those other crazed cat lovers out there. You know who you are... -Dl
Hell to Pay
Chapter 1
His Majesty Azzandar, King of the Demons, sprawled on the floor of his Palace and struggled furiously against the magical bonds holding his arms and legs immobile. His yellow eyes glared furiously up at the demon currently lounging on his royal throne smirking down at him. “You will not get away with this, Drakanor,” he snarled, showing his fangs. “I will have your guts for my breakfast, I swear it!”
The demon laughed harshly. “You’ll have to somehow get free, brother; and I truly can’t see you doing that,” he sneered. “Those bindings were custom-made for you by the Master Craftsman Joakin. There are many who took part in my conspiracy to dethrone you and take your place, spurred on by my promise of great reward for each of them. I am King of the Demons now, Azzandar. And you…you are nothing. I would have you killed, but that would be too easy. It will be far more amusing to see you left helpless and powerless, unable even to communicate with other beings. And that is exactly the fate that awaits you,” he snapped his clawed fingers to summon a demon in long dark robes into his presence.
Azzandar roared: “Stop this now, Drakanor, or suffer the consequences!”
“How very amusing,” his brother replied coldly. “And what consequences would those be? Would they be any worse than what I know would be my own fate if I released you now? I think not. Hazzinal, do it.”
The demon sorcerer nodded his head, then set his fingertips together and began to chant the words of a dark incantation. Azzandar glared foully at his treacherous sibling. “You will pay for this in suffering such as no one else has ever experienced,” he growled softly. “You have my word on that, BROTHER.”
Drakanor smiled widely, displaying his own fangs. “Good luck with that, Azzandar. Oh, and enjoy the mortal realms. At least while you still can…” and he threw back his head and guffawed in triumphant glee, as the chanting became louder and more insistent.
Azzandar spat a foul curse as he felt magic begin to creep up on him. It enveloped and surrounded him, and a great pressure made him gasp for breath. Something strange was taking place in his body. It was…shrinking. Compacting, becoming smaller and smaller…and something was sprouting from his pores. What was it?! He stared wildly down at himself, and saw that it was fur. His mouth opened on a shout, but it was pushing outward and forming into a muzzle. His ears were migrating to the top of his head, and the forked end of his tail was smoothing out. It was also being covered by a relentless flow of fur. His fingers shrank and became stubby, and his legs began to change, to shorten as the bones reformed. Wirth a near howl of frustrated fury, Azzandar found himself crouched on the floor of his Palace as a small, furry creature from the human realms.
Gone was his magnificence and huge, muscular size. Gone were the smooth red skin and the near floor-length, bat-like wings. Reddish-brown fur covered his new body, although his yellow eyes were the same. They glared up at the still smirking Drakanor, who was grinning down at his transformed brother. “How nice you look, Azzandar,” he remarked, chuckling. “Adorable, really. Here,” he produced a hand mirror out of thin air and walked over to kneel down next to his sibling. “Look at yourself. What do you think?”
Azzandar stared at himself in the mirror. His horrified gaze took in the small furry face with its pronounced muzzle, and the two round eyes the same color as his original eyes. They were still slitted, too, he noted in shock. His ears were pointed and triangular, and they twitched at the top of his head before laying down flat against his skull. His body was long and rather lithe, and his slim furry tail waved behind him as though it had a mind of its own. As he looked into the mirror, his mouth opened (to show a pink lining) and he let forth an angry hiss.
Azzandar was even further horrified to realize that he couldn’t speak anymore. Only hisses and growls broke from his transformed mouth now. Drakanor chuckled again as he made the mirror disappear. “You know, brother, the creature you’ve become was closely associated with our kind for centuries in the human realms,” he noted. “Ironic, is it not? And amusing, as well. Enjoy your stay there, and be sure that I’ll be thinking of you every day as I occupy your throne.” He grinned, and waved a hand at what were now his guards. “Take him to the portal and chuck him through,” he said indifferently.
The guard came over and reached down to pick him up. Azzandar scratched and spit furiously, and would have fled except for the fact that the collar around his neck (the only thing left from his magical bonds) wouldn’t allow him to flee. He was picked up and carried away, much to his rage and humiliation. They would all pay for this! He thought in a total red rage inside his skull. Somehow, someway, he would make them all pay. No matter how long it took. He would return to the Dark Realms and punish every one of the demons who had taken part in this revolt against him.
The guard carried him outside to one of the Portals that lead into the human realms. Azzandar struggled furiously in his grip, but no amount of scratching or clawing helped him to break free of the guard’s strong hands. The demon paused for a moment, calling up the portal. Then he looked down at his silent, enraged captive. “I’m sorry about this, Majesty,” he rumbled apologetically. “But I have no choice. Your brother holds my family’s life in his talons.” With this, he threw his former king into the portal, the beast disappearing into the swirling vortex of energy.
Azzandar came back to himself slowly. He whimpered a little, because his body ached. He forced his eyes open slowly, and then let loose a squall of horror and pain as beams of sunlight stabbed into his sensitive eyes like golden swords. He closed them again, beginning to drag himself in a slow and achy way along the ground. He would periodically crack his slitted eyes open just a little to peer around, although he couldn’t see much in all of the bright light. But then he saw a shadowy patch nearby, and he mewled as he squirmed relentlessly toward it. He had to get there, before the sunlight consumed him! Of course, it didn’t seem to be burning him up, but he couldn’t take any chances…
Finally he slid into the shadowy space, which turned out to be a pallet propped up against the wall of a building. Sunlight still striped the ground under it, but at least the brightness had been cut in half. Azzandar flopped down and meowed pitifully, panting as he lay on the cool ground under the pallet and waited to recover even a little from his journey through the portal.
His body hurt so badly. Every joint and muscle groaned and throbbed. At least this strange, smooth grey ground was cool under his fur. He lay still for who knew how long, his mind flickering in and out of consciousness. After awhile he fell asleep, and was troubled by dark dreams about his dethronement and transformation at the clawed hands of his own brother.
Azzandar awoke much later, when the horrible burning ball of golden light had sunk down nearly to the horizon. He felt better for his prolonged sleep. His body still ached, but it wasn’t the terrible, crippling pain of before. He dragged himself shakily to his feet (paws), swinging his head from side-to-side as he peered cautiously out from his hiding place. He saw more of that smooth grey ground, and his nose wrinkled when he smelled the nasty mingling odors of rotten food and the stink of chemicals. He stepped slowly out from under the pallet, his yellow eyes wary. He saw several large, square metal human things not very far away, and the rancid stink seemed to be emanating from within them. Azzandar’s nose wrinkled in disgust. His sense of smell was very acute in this form.
Suddenly he heard a clang not far away, and a door swung open in the wall. He startled, crouching down as his hackles automatically rose and his back arched. He hissed softly, a sound full of anger. A human walked toward one of the metal containers with a bag slung over his back. He tossed it into the metal thing, and as he started to turn away he became aware of Azzandar’s presence. He stopped in his tracks, staring down at the crouched beast.
The human said: “What are you doing here? Poor kitty, did somebody hurt you? Here,” and he knelt down and extended his hand.
Azzandar considered spitting and scratching that outstretched hand, but he was too weak. He settled for glaring furiously up at the human as those fingers gently stroked over his head. For this utter humiliation, he would flay his brother’s skin off of him an inch at a time. That the King of Demons should be subjected to being petted and cooed at as though he really were a lowly beast…it was too much to be borne!
Christopher Farrell smiled as the stray cat he was petting glowered up at him. It was clear that if the feline could have moved it would have attacked him violently. He understood; if other humans had hurt the poor thing, no wonder the cat didn’t like or trust humans anymore. If it ever had. Although it was wearing some kind of odd-looking collar, so it had probably once been a pampered pet. But now it was just a pathetic stray, scratching out a living and chasing mice to stay alive. Probably why it had come sniffing around the garbage cans, either that or it had dragged itself here to try to recover a bit from whatever had happened to it. He was glad that his shift was almost over. All that he’d had to do before clocking out was take out the trash, in fact. So he could go and clock out and return for the cat. He’d take the thing to the animal clinic near his apartment. They were cheap, and they’d fix the beast up right as rain in no time. “Wait right here, kitty,” he crooned to the animal. “I’ll be right back.” He got up and walked back into the store to clock out so that he could come back and retrieve the stricken feline.
Azzandar raged inside his own head, wanting nothing more than to flee this place before that wretched impudent human returned. But unfortunately for him his limbs weren’t working correctly right now. So he lay there and felt sorry for himself, and he also raged inside his head at the vagaries of fate and the perfidy of his brother. Finally the door opened once again, and the human reemerged. He walked toward Azzandar, who only hissed feebly in his direction.
“It’s okay, little guy, I’ll take care of you,” the human crooned. “We’ll get you fixed up, I promise. This’ll hurt, but I’ll try and be as gentle as I can…” his hands reached out, and the former King of Demons struggled only a little as he was picked up. His furry body ached, and he mewled pitifully as he was carried along. “I’m sorry,” the human remarked contritely. “I know, baby. But it’ll get better, I promise. The guys at the clinic will take good care of you. Here we are,” the human stopped by a large metal thing that Azzandar recognized from his infrequent trips to Earth (and from sessions with a scrying stone) as a car. One of his hands opened the door, and then Azzandar was very gently deposited on the seat within. He lay there as the human circled the vehicle and got into the other side, then put the keys in the ignition and started it.
The car began to move. At any other time, Azzandar might have been fascinated by this odd machine. But right now he was in too much pain, and far too angry, to care that much. When something made the car jolt, he cried out pitiably and then hated himself. The human’s hand reached out to stroke and soothe him. “I’m sorry, kitty. Stupid pot hole. We’ll be there soon. Just hold on.”
Azzandar wanted to growl in disgust at his own weakness. Soon enough, the car jolted again as it turned, and then it stopped. The human got out of the car and came around to open his door. “Here we are. Come on, little guy.” He was scooped up back into the human’s arms and carried inside of a building. The human stopped and spoke to somebody else that the demon couldn’t see. “I found this cat outside the grocery store, Ellen. He’s hurt, I think pretty badly. Could you guys take a look at him? I’ll pay,” he said.
“Sure. Poor little thing, do you have any idea what happened to him?” a female voice asked as the human got moving again.
“No. he was just lying in the alley next to the garbage bins when I went to take the trash out. He tried to snarl at me, but couldn’t quite make it. I’m hoping that you can patch him up.”
“Well, I’ll try,” Azzandar found himself being laid down on a soft surface, and then a woman’s face leaned over him. Slender fingers began to run over his body, gently probing it to feel for injuries. He wanted desperately to swipe at her with his claws, but he was still too weak. So all he could do was lie there and feel furious while the woman completed her examination. “He doesn’t have any broken bones,” she said to the first human. “But I won’t know about any other internal injuries until I take an x-ray. Still, the color of his gums is good and he’s not bleeding out of his mouth, nose or eyes. Those are all good signs. Just let me wheel the portable x-ray machine in here and we’ll have a look at his insides for any signs of internal bleeding or damage to his organs.”
She went away, and the male human reappeared in Azzandar’s line of vision. “Sorry, guy, but Ellen will patch you up,” he said reassuringly. “She’s a good vet, I promise. And once you’re better we’ll think about finding you a home. Maybe we should start with a name? How about….Hmm, your coat’s kind of reddish. So we’ll call you Rusty, okay?”
It was most decidedly NOT okay. Azzandar’s glare took on an outraged quality. But of course humans were stupid and couldn’t read such signals at all. The man chuckled and ran a finger along his spine. “Rusty it is. And what a pretty kitty you are, too. I’m sure we’ll have no trouble finding someone to take you.”
“Hah. You’ll end up taking him in yourself, and you know it,” the woman’s voice said sardonically as she came back into the room pushing a cart of some kind. “You’re such a softie, Chris, especially where animals are concerned. You’ll fall for the beast no matter how bad-tempered it might turn out to be, and love it unconditionally even when it shreds your sofa and sprays your carpet.”
A rueful laugh. “Yeah, what can I say? I’m a pussy, I guess,” the man replied, making her laugh as well. “But I’ve always loved animals. And hell, I suppose I’m due to get another cat after Buster passed away. I’ve been a bit lonely lately,” he said, sounding rather depressed.
The woman made a clucking sound as she lowered something over Azzandar’s pathetic feline body. “Chris, you really need to get out and date more,” she chided the other human.
He sighed. “I know. But I just haven’t met any interesting guys lately.”
“That’s because you end up comparing all of them that you meet to Rick. You can’t do that, Chris. Rick broke up with you, and he isn‘t going to come back.”
“I know,” there was depression in the male human’s voice as the woman did something that made the thing poised above him start to make a low humming noise. Azzandar didn’t like that noise, but there was nothing that he could do about it. All he could do was rage silently in his own head as the two humans continued their conversation above his head. “It’s just that…God, it hurt so bad when he just dumped me like that.”
“I know, sweetie. But you’ve got to try to get over that pain and find somebody better. Because you definitely deserve better.”
“Thanks, Ellen, I appreciate that,” the human called Chris said gratefully. “Anyway, how’s Rusty doing?”
“Rusty? Named him already? I told you you’d end up keeping him,” the woman said in amusement. “Well, there are no internal injuries that I can see. And he’s not sick, either. I really can’t find anything wrong with him to account for this weakness and the pain he seems to be experiencing. I’ll just give him a vitamin shot and a painkiller, and you can take him home with you. Watch him closely and see if he gets better. If he doesn’t, bring him back here for me to look him over again. Okay?”
“All right,” the one called Chris said in resignation. “I’m glad that I didn’t get rid of Buster’s stuff,” he added as a sharp pain pricked Azzandar’s furry shoulder and made him growl weakly.
“Yeah. Feed him soft food and pad his bed with something soft too. There,” she went on as the pricking pain disappeared. “That should help. It can’t hurt, anyway. You’ll feel better soon, little guy,” she told the former King of the Demons, who gave her a yellow-eyed glare in return.
The pain began to ebb, much to his relief. The human called Chris gently scooped him up and carried him out of the white place. He said goodbye to the woman, and then they were in the car again. But since the pain had all but disappeared, Azzandar didn’t mind the movement so much this time. Chris talked as he drove, and the former demon now cat listened idly with half an ear. “It’ll just be the two of us, Rusty. I live alone now, because my boyfriend Rick broke up with me a few months ago. And my cat Buster died at about the same time, so needless to say I wasn’t having a good month back then. Ellen’s probably right, I SHOULD start dating again. It’s just that…I really loved Rick, and I thought that he loved me too. It hurt like hell to realize that he didn’t love me at all, not like I did him. I just don’t want to have to go through that again.”
Azzandar wished that he could speak so that he could tell this wretched human what he thought of him. Weak, disgusting little worm. He definitely needed to grow a spine and learn how to punish those who had hurt him. This former boyfriend wouldn’t have lasted two minutes after he’d tried to discard Azzandar.
He growled softly to himself, making the voice say above his head: “You sound a bit better, anyway. I hope that there isn’t something wrong with you that just didn’t show up on the x-ray.” Fingers stroked his coat, making him snarl feebly. Stupid human! If he were still in his demonic form, Azzandar would have ripped this impudent creature’s hand off at the wrist for daring to touch him. When fingertips scratched at the base of his ears, he struggled not to respond. The touch felt good to this miserable, furry little body. To his horror, he felt something happening inside of him, and a rusty sound began to emanate from under his ribcage. He was actually purring! It was all involuntary, much to his disgust and raging fury. For him to be reduced to such a pathetic state – he was going to cut his wretched brother into a million pieces, slowly and painfully, when he finally found way out of this cat body and back to his own form!
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A/N: As most of you know by now, I love cats. I'm that weird cat lady in the flesh :P So I really enjoyed writing this one, as the thought of a demon trapped in a cat's body amuses me. All cats are inherently evil, after all... XD Mine especially. heh. But being a good slave, I worship at their altar anyway. Anyhoo, this one is for all of those other crazed cat lovers out there. You know who you are... -Dl
Hell to Pay
Chapter 1
His Majesty Azzandar, King of the Demons, sprawled on the floor of his Palace and struggled furiously against the magical bonds holding his arms and legs immobile. His yellow eyes glared furiously up at the demon currently lounging on his royal throne smirking down at him. “You will not get away with this, Drakanor,” he snarled, showing his fangs. “I will have your guts for my breakfast, I swear it!”
The demon laughed harshly. “You’ll have to somehow get free, brother; and I truly can’t see you doing that,” he sneered. “Those bindings were custom-made for you by the Master Craftsman Joakin. There are many who took part in my conspiracy to dethrone you and take your place, spurred on by my promise of great reward for each of them. I am King of the Demons now, Azzandar. And you…you are nothing. I would have you killed, but that would be too easy. It will be far more amusing to see you left helpless and powerless, unable even to communicate with other beings. And that is exactly the fate that awaits you,” he snapped his clawed fingers to summon a demon in long dark robes into his presence.
Azzandar roared: “Stop this now, Drakanor, or suffer the consequences!”
“How very amusing,” his brother replied coldly. “And what consequences would those be? Would they be any worse than what I know would be my own fate if I released you now? I think not. Hazzinal, do it.”
The demon sorcerer nodded his head, then set his fingertips together and began to chant the words of a dark incantation. Azzandar glared foully at his treacherous sibling. “You will pay for this in suffering such as no one else has ever experienced,” he growled softly. “You have my word on that, BROTHER.”
Drakanor smiled widely, displaying his own fangs. “Good luck with that, Azzandar. Oh, and enjoy the mortal realms. At least while you still can…” and he threw back his head and guffawed in triumphant glee, as the chanting became louder and more insistent.
Azzandar spat a foul curse as he felt magic begin to creep up on him. It enveloped and surrounded him, and a great pressure made him gasp for breath. Something strange was taking place in his body. It was…shrinking. Compacting, becoming smaller and smaller…and something was sprouting from his pores. What was it?! He stared wildly down at himself, and saw that it was fur. His mouth opened on a shout, but it was pushing outward and forming into a muzzle. His ears were migrating to the top of his head, and the forked end of his tail was smoothing out. It was also being covered by a relentless flow of fur. His fingers shrank and became stubby, and his legs began to change, to shorten as the bones reformed. Wirth a near howl of frustrated fury, Azzandar found himself crouched on the floor of his Palace as a small, furry creature from the human realms.
Gone was his magnificence and huge, muscular size. Gone were the smooth red skin and the near floor-length, bat-like wings. Reddish-brown fur covered his new body, although his yellow eyes were the same. They glared up at the still smirking Drakanor, who was grinning down at his transformed brother. “How nice you look, Azzandar,” he remarked, chuckling. “Adorable, really. Here,” he produced a hand mirror out of thin air and walked over to kneel down next to his sibling. “Look at yourself. What do you think?”
Azzandar stared at himself in the mirror. His horrified gaze took in the small furry face with its pronounced muzzle, and the two round eyes the same color as his original eyes. They were still slitted, too, he noted in shock. His ears were pointed and triangular, and they twitched at the top of his head before laying down flat against his skull. His body was long and rather lithe, and his slim furry tail waved behind him as though it had a mind of its own. As he looked into the mirror, his mouth opened (to show a pink lining) and he let forth an angry hiss.
Azzandar was even further horrified to realize that he couldn’t speak anymore. Only hisses and growls broke from his transformed mouth now. Drakanor chuckled again as he made the mirror disappear. “You know, brother, the creature you’ve become was closely associated with our kind for centuries in the human realms,” he noted. “Ironic, is it not? And amusing, as well. Enjoy your stay there, and be sure that I’ll be thinking of you every day as I occupy your throne.” He grinned, and waved a hand at what were now his guards. “Take him to the portal and chuck him through,” he said indifferently.
The guard came over and reached down to pick him up. Azzandar scratched and spit furiously, and would have fled except for the fact that the collar around his neck (the only thing left from his magical bonds) wouldn’t allow him to flee. He was picked up and carried away, much to his rage and humiliation. They would all pay for this! He thought in a total red rage inside his skull. Somehow, someway, he would make them all pay. No matter how long it took. He would return to the Dark Realms and punish every one of the demons who had taken part in this revolt against him.
The guard carried him outside to one of the Portals that lead into the human realms. Azzandar struggled furiously in his grip, but no amount of scratching or clawing helped him to break free of the guard’s strong hands. The demon paused for a moment, calling up the portal. Then he looked down at his silent, enraged captive. “I’m sorry about this, Majesty,” he rumbled apologetically. “But I have no choice. Your brother holds my family’s life in his talons.” With this, he threw his former king into the portal, the beast disappearing into the swirling vortex of energy.
Azzandar came back to himself slowly. He whimpered a little, because his body ached. He forced his eyes open slowly, and then let loose a squall of horror and pain as beams of sunlight stabbed into his sensitive eyes like golden swords. He closed them again, beginning to drag himself in a slow and achy way along the ground. He would periodically crack his slitted eyes open just a little to peer around, although he couldn’t see much in all of the bright light. But then he saw a shadowy patch nearby, and he mewled as he squirmed relentlessly toward it. He had to get there, before the sunlight consumed him! Of course, it didn’t seem to be burning him up, but he couldn’t take any chances…
Finally he slid into the shadowy space, which turned out to be a pallet propped up against the wall of a building. Sunlight still striped the ground under it, but at least the brightness had been cut in half. Azzandar flopped down and meowed pitifully, panting as he lay on the cool ground under the pallet and waited to recover even a little from his journey through the portal.
His body hurt so badly. Every joint and muscle groaned and throbbed. At least this strange, smooth grey ground was cool under his fur. He lay still for who knew how long, his mind flickering in and out of consciousness. After awhile he fell asleep, and was troubled by dark dreams about his dethronement and transformation at the clawed hands of his own brother.
Azzandar awoke much later, when the horrible burning ball of golden light had sunk down nearly to the horizon. He felt better for his prolonged sleep. His body still ached, but it wasn’t the terrible, crippling pain of before. He dragged himself shakily to his feet (paws), swinging his head from side-to-side as he peered cautiously out from his hiding place. He saw more of that smooth grey ground, and his nose wrinkled when he smelled the nasty mingling odors of rotten food and the stink of chemicals. He stepped slowly out from under the pallet, his yellow eyes wary. He saw several large, square metal human things not very far away, and the rancid stink seemed to be emanating from within them. Azzandar’s nose wrinkled in disgust. His sense of smell was very acute in this form.
Suddenly he heard a clang not far away, and a door swung open in the wall. He startled, crouching down as his hackles automatically rose and his back arched. He hissed softly, a sound full of anger. A human walked toward one of the metal containers with a bag slung over his back. He tossed it into the metal thing, and as he started to turn away he became aware of Azzandar’s presence. He stopped in his tracks, staring down at the crouched beast.
The human said: “What are you doing here? Poor kitty, did somebody hurt you? Here,” and he knelt down and extended his hand.
Azzandar considered spitting and scratching that outstretched hand, but he was too weak. He settled for glaring furiously up at the human as those fingers gently stroked over his head. For this utter humiliation, he would flay his brother’s skin off of him an inch at a time. That the King of Demons should be subjected to being petted and cooed at as though he really were a lowly beast…it was too much to be borne!
Christopher Farrell smiled as the stray cat he was petting glowered up at him. It was clear that if the feline could have moved it would have attacked him violently. He understood; if other humans had hurt the poor thing, no wonder the cat didn’t like or trust humans anymore. If it ever had. Although it was wearing some kind of odd-looking collar, so it had probably once been a pampered pet. But now it was just a pathetic stray, scratching out a living and chasing mice to stay alive. Probably why it had come sniffing around the garbage cans, either that or it had dragged itself here to try to recover a bit from whatever had happened to it. He was glad that his shift was almost over. All that he’d had to do before clocking out was take out the trash, in fact. So he could go and clock out and return for the cat. He’d take the thing to the animal clinic near his apartment. They were cheap, and they’d fix the beast up right as rain in no time. “Wait right here, kitty,” he crooned to the animal. “I’ll be right back.” He got up and walked back into the store to clock out so that he could come back and retrieve the stricken feline.
Azzandar raged inside his own head, wanting nothing more than to flee this place before that wretched impudent human returned. But unfortunately for him his limbs weren’t working correctly right now. So he lay there and felt sorry for himself, and he also raged inside his head at the vagaries of fate and the perfidy of his brother. Finally the door opened once again, and the human reemerged. He walked toward Azzandar, who only hissed feebly in his direction.
“It’s okay, little guy, I’ll take care of you,” the human crooned. “We’ll get you fixed up, I promise. This’ll hurt, but I’ll try and be as gentle as I can…” his hands reached out, and the former King of Demons struggled only a little as he was picked up. His furry body ached, and he mewled pitifully as he was carried along. “I’m sorry,” the human remarked contritely. “I know, baby. But it’ll get better, I promise. The guys at the clinic will take good care of you. Here we are,” the human stopped by a large metal thing that Azzandar recognized from his infrequent trips to Earth (and from sessions with a scrying stone) as a car. One of his hands opened the door, and then Azzandar was very gently deposited on the seat within. He lay there as the human circled the vehicle and got into the other side, then put the keys in the ignition and started it.
The car began to move. At any other time, Azzandar might have been fascinated by this odd machine. But right now he was in too much pain, and far too angry, to care that much. When something made the car jolt, he cried out pitiably and then hated himself. The human’s hand reached out to stroke and soothe him. “I’m sorry, kitty. Stupid pot hole. We’ll be there soon. Just hold on.”
Azzandar wanted to growl in disgust at his own weakness. Soon enough, the car jolted again as it turned, and then it stopped. The human got out of the car and came around to open his door. “Here we are. Come on, little guy.” He was scooped up back into the human’s arms and carried inside of a building. The human stopped and spoke to somebody else that the demon couldn’t see. “I found this cat outside the grocery store, Ellen. He’s hurt, I think pretty badly. Could you guys take a look at him? I’ll pay,” he said.
“Sure. Poor little thing, do you have any idea what happened to him?” a female voice asked as the human got moving again.
“No. he was just lying in the alley next to the garbage bins when I went to take the trash out. He tried to snarl at me, but couldn’t quite make it. I’m hoping that you can patch him up.”
“Well, I’ll try,” Azzandar found himself being laid down on a soft surface, and then a woman’s face leaned over him. Slender fingers began to run over his body, gently probing it to feel for injuries. He wanted desperately to swipe at her with his claws, but he was still too weak. So all he could do was lie there and feel furious while the woman completed her examination. “He doesn’t have any broken bones,” she said to the first human. “But I won’t know about any other internal injuries until I take an x-ray. Still, the color of his gums is good and he’s not bleeding out of his mouth, nose or eyes. Those are all good signs. Just let me wheel the portable x-ray machine in here and we’ll have a look at his insides for any signs of internal bleeding or damage to his organs.”
She went away, and the male human reappeared in Azzandar’s line of vision. “Sorry, guy, but Ellen will patch you up,” he said reassuringly. “She’s a good vet, I promise. And once you’re better we’ll think about finding you a home. Maybe we should start with a name? How about….Hmm, your coat’s kind of reddish. So we’ll call you Rusty, okay?”
It was most decidedly NOT okay. Azzandar’s glare took on an outraged quality. But of course humans were stupid and couldn’t read such signals at all. The man chuckled and ran a finger along his spine. “Rusty it is. And what a pretty kitty you are, too. I’m sure we’ll have no trouble finding someone to take you.”
“Hah. You’ll end up taking him in yourself, and you know it,” the woman’s voice said sardonically as she came back into the room pushing a cart of some kind. “You’re such a softie, Chris, especially where animals are concerned. You’ll fall for the beast no matter how bad-tempered it might turn out to be, and love it unconditionally even when it shreds your sofa and sprays your carpet.”
A rueful laugh. “Yeah, what can I say? I’m a pussy, I guess,” the man replied, making her laugh as well. “But I’ve always loved animals. And hell, I suppose I’m due to get another cat after Buster passed away. I’ve been a bit lonely lately,” he said, sounding rather depressed.
The woman made a clucking sound as she lowered something over Azzandar’s pathetic feline body. “Chris, you really need to get out and date more,” she chided the other human.
He sighed. “I know. But I just haven’t met any interesting guys lately.”
“That’s because you end up comparing all of them that you meet to Rick. You can’t do that, Chris. Rick broke up with you, and he isn‘t going to come back.”
“I know,” there was depression in the male human’s voice as the woman did something that made the thing poised above him start to make a low humming noise. Azzandar didn’t like that noise, but there was nothing that he could do about it. All he could do was rage silently in his own head as the two humans continued their conversation above his head. “It’s just that…God, it hurt so bad when he just dumped me like that.”
“I know, sweetie. But you’ve got to try to get over that pain and find somebody better. Because you definitely deserve better.”
“Thanks, Ellen, I appreciate that,” the human called Chris said gratefully. “Anyway, how’s Rusty doing?”
“Rusty? Named him already? I told you you’d end up keeping him,” the woman said in amusement. “Well, there are no internal injuries that I can see. And he’s not sick, either. I really can’t find anything wrong with him to account for this weakness and the pain he seems to be experiencing. I’ll just give him a vitamin shot and a painkiller, and you can take him home with you. Watch him closely and see if he gets better. If he doesn’t, bring him back here for me to look him over again. Okay?”
“All right,” the one called Chris said in resignation. “I’m glad that I didn’t get rid of Buster’s stuff,” he added as a sharp pain pricked Azzandar’s furry shoulder and made him growl weakly.
“Yeah. Feed him soft food and pad his bed with something soft too. There,” she went on as the pricking pain disappeared. “That should help. It can’t hurt, anyway. You’ll feel better soon, little guy,” she told the former King of the Demons, who gave her a yellow-eyed glare in return.
The pain began to ebb, much to his relief. The human called Chris gently scooped him up and carried him out of the white place. He said goodbye to the woman, and then they were in the car again. But since the pain had all but disappeared, Azzandar didn’t mind the movement so much this time. Chris talked as he drove, and the former demon now cat listened idly with half an ear. “It’ll just be the two of us, Rusty. I live alone now, because my boyfriend Rick broke up with me a few months ago. And my cat Buster died at about the same time, so needless to say I wasn’t having a good month back then. Ellen’s probably right, I SHOULD start dating again. It’s just that…I really loved Rick, and I thought that he loved me too. It hurt like hell to realize that he didn’t love me at all, not like I did him. I just don’t want to have to go through that again.”
Azzandar wished that he could speak so that he could tell this wretched human what he thought of him. Weak, disgusting little worm. He definitely needed to grow a spine and learn how to punish those who had hurt him. This former boyfriend wouldn’t have lasted two minutes after he’d tried to discard Azzandar.
He growled softly to himself, making the voice say above his head: “You sound a bit better, anyway. I hope that there isn’t something wrong with you that just didn’t show up on the x-ray.” Fingers stroked his coat, making him snarl feebly. Stupid human! If he were still in his demonic form, Azzandar would have ripped this impudent creature’s hand off at the wrist for daring to touch him. When fingertips scratched at the base of his ears, he struggled not to respond. The touch felt good to this miserable, furry little body. To his horror, he felt something happening inside of him, and a rusty sound began to emanate from under his ribcage. He was actually purring! It was all involuntary, much to his disgust and raging fury. For him to be reduced to such a pathetic state – he was going to cut his wretched brother into a million pieces, slowly and painfully, when he finally found way out of this cat body and back to his own form!
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