I’d always thought that watching movies would make you less likely to freak out when put into situations in real life, but as I sat on the roof of the building I’d just jumped out of looking out at the abandoned streets I couldn’t help but have shivers run down my spine as the words ‘ghost town’ came to mind. Despite that, though, I couldn’t help but find my mind wandering to the events that led to me getting here. I felt my anger grow slightly as I realized that I couldn’t really recall anything in detail. It was all just a big blur.

  I remembered getting shot, but I couldn’t tell you why I’d gotten shot, who’d shot me, or what I’d been doing when I’d gotten shot. I remembered something about a parking garage, and there was something about a restaurant, I think? But aside from that, everything else was just blank. I frowned as I realized I didn’t even remember the part where I actually got shot, I was just 100% confident that I had been shot, though I couldn’t tell you why that was.

  “I feel like that should concern me, but it doesn’t,” I said to no one while continuing to frown. “I am way too calm about this,” I sighed, as I slid from the roof and landed outside the front of the house with a thud. I stood and turned, reaching to open the door to the house I’d just been inside only to pause as I noticed that the door was missing. “Well that’s unusual.”

  I hesitantly stepped into the building, half expecting something scary to jump out and try and spook me or something, but to my relief, nothing did. “I’m not sure what I was expecting,” I said as I looked around the deserted room, noting the furniture and other belongings that had been knocked over in what appeared to be some kind of rush to leave, “but this is honestly a let down and relief at the same time.” I glanced around and spotted the stairs to the second floor, but ignored them in favor of going deeper into the first floor.

  I was no expert in arson, nor did I know anyone who was, but I was pretty confident in my abilities to smell burned wood, and the deeper into this house I went, the more it smelled of it. “That’s odd…” I sniffed, the smell of charred wood and ash filling my lungs and making me cough. “Smells like cherry wood,” I said as soon as I’d managed to finish coughing. “Why isn’t the front of the house burned, though?” A shiver went down my spine, along with an unfamiliar sensation that caused me to pause, only to realize as I looked at my arms that it was the feeling of my fur standing straight on its ends. “Not… Sure how I feel that my body agrees with me that this is a super creepy situation,” I mumbled only to pause mid step once more. I’d said ‘my body’ just now, not ‘this body.’ Was I already getting used to this body being mine now?

  Shaking that thought from my head for the time being, I continued walking through the house in silence, ready for anything to jump out at me as I rounded the corner and found myself in one of the bedrooms of the house, only to freeze in my tracks as my eyes saw the bed. “Oh my God…” I muttered, unable to take my eyes off the sight before me. “What… What the hell am I looking at?”

  I felt my heart sinking into my stomach as I struggled to pull my eyes away from the sight before me. The first word that came to mind was ‘bloodbath,’ but even that seemed to do no justice to what I was looking at. The wall behind the bed was coated in blood, but that wasn’t the worst of it. On the bed were what appeared to be three bodies, though it was hard to tell with how badly they were disfigured. I wanted to be sick, but I’d not eaten anything since I’d woken up here and my body apparently didn’t have any fuel to be sick with, though I honestly don’t know if I could have even been sick given that my body was just shocked at the scene.

  “Staring at them like that isn’t going to bring them back,” a voice behind me said, causing me to snap out of my trance and spin around, looking around to see who spoke. “Down here,” the voice said, causing me to look down, only to blink in disbelief. On the floor next to me sat a cat that looked like some kind of hologram. I squinted and then tried to poke it with my foot, only for the cat to jump onto my foot and climb up my body. “That’s rude,” it said as it clawed its way up to my shoulder before jumping onto my head, making me wince.

  I found myself growling as I tilted my head back, but the cat managed to remain on top of my head no matter how much I tried to shake it off. “Oh, right, because you’re one to talk as you rudely sit on my head,” I grumbled.

  “I don’t know if I’d call this sitting, more like clinging for dear life,” the cat replied.

  Sighing, I gave up on getting the cat off my head. “Whatever, just another thing to add to my list of stuff to never talk about unless I want to end up locked in a straightjacket in the loony bin.”

  “I don’t think they have those here,” the cat said, causing me to pause.

  “You know what a straightjacket is?” I asked, before facepalming. “Of course you do, you’re a figment of my imagination, just like the rest of this place.”

  “Oh well now that’s just hurtful,” the cat said, jumping off my head and landing on the floor in front of me. I watched as it turned around, only to realize as it did that I hadn’t actually felt it jump from my head. Actually, now that I thought about it, I hadn’t felt it while it was on top of my head, either. “I’m a semi-present being,” the cat said, as if answering my thoughts. “You won’t feel me, unless I want you to.

  “So you wanted me to feel you clawing your way up my body?” I asked, growling once more at the cat. I don’t know why, but I didn’t like this cat.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the cat replied as it swished its tail dismissively, somehow managing to look smug as it did. I narrowed my eyes to which the cat sat on its hind legs and lifted a paw up, as if admitting defeat. “Fine, fine. I did that on purpose, yes. But I won’t do it again, as long as you don’t try and kick me off you again,” the cat said before jumping from the floor cleanly onto my head.

  “I make no promises,” I said, glaring up at the feline. Or at least, I tried to. It was surprisingly difficult to glare at something that was currently sitting atop your head. “Who are you, anyway?” I asked with a huff.

  “You may call me Amy,” the cat purred in answer, making me freeze slightly. “Yes?” she asked, a tone of amusement in her voice and – somehow – on her face.

  “Uh, nothing…” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. No way I was about to tell this cat I’d just met that my best friend from home’s name was Amy.

  “No need, I already knew that,” the cat said, as if reading my mind. I flailed my hands up my head, feeling at nothing and getting even more frustrated as the cat laughed. “I know a lot about you, Naomi, but we can talk about that later. For now, we should look at getting you out of here,” she said that last part rather seriously and suddenly the memory of the room just a couple feet behind me came rushing back to me and I fought back the feeling of gagging. “It’s a horrible sight, I know. Let’s go back outside; we can talk there while I figure out our next steps.”

  “R-right,” I said, shaking my head of the memory before exhaling loudly. As I made my way toward the front of the building, I noticed that there was an unnaturally clean line that marked the end of the burned section of the house. “What happened here?” I asked, once more feeling the fur on my body standing on end.

  She didn’t say anything at first, and I thought she might not have heard me, but the second we got out of the house she spoke up. “They were sacrificed,” she said before hopping off my head and onto the ground in front of me before walking further away from the house.

  I followed her, expecting her to say more, but when she didn’t I asked, “Sacrificed for what?”

  “I can’t tell you anything more. Not yet, anyway.”

  I frowned at that and stopped walking, placing my hands on my hips in what I’m sure wasn’t a very manly posture, but I didn’t care as I glared daggers at the cat. Evidently she had eyes on the back of her head or something, or just had really good hearing, because she noticed rather quickly that I wasn’t following her anymore and sighed. She turned to face me before sitting on her back paws and I noticed as she did that she had a rather large tail, which she used to completely cover her four paws as she glared up at me in return.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Look,” I started, only to get cut off.

  “No, you look,” she said, voice calm but with a hint of sass to it. “I would get in a lot of trouble explaining to you what happened, and it would limit my ability to help you in a way that neither of us would find productive right now.” I opened my mouth to reply, but I noticed her eye twitch in annoyance so I shut my mouth so she could continue. “Right now we have to figure out how to get that collar off your neck.”

  I blinked, moving my hands from my hips to my neck and letting out a soft gasp as I realized that there was, in fact, a rather thin strip of metal that went all the way around my neck. I immediately blushed and pulled my hands away from it.

  The cat appeared to smirk somehow before uncurling its tail and motioning for me to follow. “Relax. There is a Rathkarian nearby that seems to have had their collar removed before they died. Hopefully we can find whatever she used to remove it nearby.”

  “H-hey, wait up!” I called after the cat as she started off, my cheeks still a little red from embarrassment. “What do you mean?! Can’t you remove it yourself?”

  Amy looked over her shoulder as she continued to walk, somehow conveying a sense of annoyance at my question. “Oh yes, just let the cat without any opposable thumbs try and remove the collar from around your neck. That’s a great idea,” she said sarcastically.

  “Alright, alright, no need to be an as–”

  I winced as a mild jolt of discomfort that originated from my neck ran through my body, followed once more by that gentle voice saying, “Slave Collar profanity censor activated: Detected attempted use of profanity. Mute Status Debuff is applied for 60 cycles.”

  Amy sighed and stopped, turning once more to face me, this time there was no mistake about the annoyance she had. “Look, you’ve got to get that under control, alright? Would you have cursed this much back on Earth?” With that, she turned and started walking again, leaving me to contemplate that.

  I was surprised that I didn’t have the same extreme reaction to being unable to talk this time, and by the time I was able to I wasted no time in asking, “Why does that keep happening?” Followed quickly by, “And how did you know I was from Earth?” And, because good things come in threes, I then immediately asked, “And if we’re not on Earth, where are we now?”

  I got no answer, and so we walked in silence leaving me to resume considering what she’d just said. She was right, of course. While I definitely wasn’t a girly-girl back home, I didn’t curse at all. Since arriving here, I’d almost dropped the F bomb and attempted to say a–

  “Don’t think it,” Amy said rather abruptly, bringing me out of my thoughts with a startle.

  “Excuse me?” I asked, confused.

  “You were about to think the word. Don’t do that. The collar can censor you for your thoughts, too.”

  “What the hell is this fu–” I winced, knowing full well what was about to happen as Amy simply sighed. The jolt of minor discomfort washed over me and I ignored the voice telling me that I was muted this time, because while the voice might have sounded all warm and comforting, it was anything but given that it kept muting me like this.

  After a couple of seconds Amy spoke again, “The collar around your neck was designed by the humans of the Atherion Empire to force Beastfolks – that’s you, by the way – into submission. Your collar looks to be set to one of the more strict settings, which I suppose makes sense. Thorne was pretty aggressive in life, both with his words, and his actions, most likely because of his Racial Trait Anger Boost.” I opened my mouth to ask a question, only to realize that I was still muted. Luckily for me, though, Amy seemed like she wasn’t done talking, as she continued explaining.

  “Anger Boost is a somewhat rare trait that members of the Beastfolk tribes can sometimes get, although it’s most common in the Raetravian and Murnvian tribes. It boosts their physical capabilities significantly, but at the cost of lowering their Affinity and Willpower Stats. That lowered Willpower is likely the reason you are so frequently succumbing to Thorne’s natural anger, and therefore why you’ve begun your path toward learning to talk like a sailor from back home.”

  I felt a weight lift from my chest signaling the end of my mute debuff, so I muttered out a “ha ha, very funny.”

  “I thought so,” Amy replied rather dryly. “Now, you asked a bunch of questions before you muted yourself. I’ll answer one of them now, and the others later.”

  “Okay…” I chewed on my lip for a second as I considered, before nodding my head and replying, “I think you more or less answered why this keeps happening. How did you know I’m from Earth?”

  Amy sighed and paused for a second, as if looking at a map before turning down a different path. I followed after her in silence, waiting for her to reply. After a couple of seconds in awkward silence, she said, “I can’t tell you the whole story – and before you get mad at me and get yourself muted again, hear me out,” she said, interrupting herself in an attempt to calm me down the second that I began to get annoyed at her excuse.

  “Sorry,” I muttered sheepishly, rubbing the back of my head.

  “Anyway, I can’t tell you the whole story, but what I can tell you is that I’m not from here either.” She stopped in front of an orange cat-girl and I frowned as I looked at her. She didn’t look like she’d died the same way as the other bodies I’d found had, and I found myself kneeling in front of her to get a better look.

  “What happened to her?” I asked, not seeing any signs of injury aside from a few minor burn marks here and there on her fur. “She doesn’t look like she was part of the sacrifice.”

  Amy walked up beside me and let out a huff, shaking her head in what appeared to be frustration. “No, she wasn’t,” she replied before starting to paw around at the body. I watched as she pawed at her chest, which was covered by a piece of beige fabric that looked to be the exact same color as my shorts, as well as a pair of shorts identical to mine, except for the fact that they were obviously for a girl. She then moved down to the girl’s shorts and then sighed again. “Damnit,” she finally spoke, sitting on top of the body as if it wasn’t a corpse, before she looked up at me. “She doesn’t appear to have a key we can use.”

  “A key for the collar?” I asked, maybe a little stupidly.

  “Yes, for the collar,” Amy replied, rolling her eyes as she lifted a paw and pointed behind her. “Her collar is over there,” she gestured with her head, “but I can’t find anything here that would have allowed her to remove it while she was still alive. Hold on…” Amy’s eyes lost their focus, as if they were reading something far away. I just stood there somewhat awkwardly while she did whatever it was she was doing before she muttered “that’s odd,” her eyes returning to normal as she did.

  “What is?”

  “As far as the audit logs say, her collar shouldn’t have been removed. In fact, her metadata still has her flagged as a slave. I don’t know how I missed that when I looked the first time,” Amy said, sounding somewhat concerned at her oversight.

  “Uh… Everyone makes mistakes?” I offered, trying to be supportive.

  “Yeah, I guess… Well, that makes things a little harder for you.”

  “Why?” I asked, my hands once more returning to the metal ring around my neck. I fingered it with my left index finger while Amy’s eyes once more took a distant look.

  “While that Slave Collar is on, it’ll negate all your Racial Stats. You’ll be like an uninitialized Character, despite the fact that you’re not.”

  “And for those of us who don’t know what that means?” I asked while continuing to feel around the collar, eventually finding a small hole that felt like it could have been a keyhole. “Aha”, I muttered to myself.

  Amy sighed. “In dumb Naomi terms, you’re essentially handicapped while that thing is around your neck. It’ll negate all your Racial Stats.”

  “Oh, well that doesn’t sound super good,” I said. Amy just grunted, appearing to be more focused on whatever it was she was looking at. I closed my eyes and thought back to when I’d managed to accidentally claw myself. I had no idea how my claws worked, but it seemed pretty reasonable if I just thought about it…

  Apparently, I’d been on the right track because the second I envisioned my fingernail changing into a claw, Amy’s eyes shot up to me as she hissed, “Don’t!”

  Unfortunately for me, it was too late. A burst of electricity ran throughout my body, starting from my hand. It could best be described as sticking a soaking wet metal fork in an electrical outlet with both hands, while simultaneously being submerged in a bath while someone dropped a toaster that was plugged in.

  I collapsed to the ground, whimpering like a helpless dog.

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