Page 32 of Rescued By the Beast
A man approaches, but I don't recognise him. He says something quietly to a woman passing by. They leave, and I struggle to stay alert, to understand where I am.
But all I see are blurs, my eyelids are heavy.
I blink.
When I open my eyes again, I can't tell if hours or a whole day have passed. But now I'm on some kind of table and someone is touching my back, changing the bandage.
"The stitches look good, no signs of infection," I hear the man's voice say.
My mind is a chaos of pain and confusion.
I want to protest, but my mouth only emits a weak meow. My body moves minimally, the maximum strength I still have, which is almost nothing.
"Stay calm, you'll be out of here soon," he says in a soft voice.
Get out.
Yes, I need to get out, I need to escape!
But weak like this, and trapped in this body?
A wave of fear tightens my chest when I try to access my healing essence, but I find emptiness. The source has dried up.
It will be a long time before it flows again.
The man turns around, goes to a counter, and when he returns, he brings a post-operative gown to put on me.
He's really going to touch my whole body.
The humiliation burns under my skin, even though it's covered with hair. It doesn't matter that I'm in this form — I'm still me inside, and he's going to dress me, manipulate me as if I were an object without a will of my own. When he lifts my tail to put on the garment, I feel a heat rising to my face, shame and frustration mingling with helplessness.
Oh, how I hate this!
My eyes narrow, and I manage to meow louder, but I'm too weak to move, to fight against what they're doing to me.
He chuckles softly, dimples appearing on his face, sweet brown eyes that convey tranquillity.
"It's bad, I know, but it's necessary. For your own good."
But he doesn't understand. I'm not an animal. I don't need the little clothes because I'm not going to lick my wounds.
I shouldn't even be here!
None of this makes sense.
First, I was trapped in this animal form. Then, I got a nice eviction notice. And, as if the universe didn't think it had humiliated me enough, a monster almost killed me.
All I can do is let out a frustrated meow as I stare at the floor and calculate the distance to jump. My chance to escape is now, out of that cage, while the door behind him is open. Damn the pain throbbing in my back and the weakness that seems to weigh even on my bones.
But before I can gather my courage, the man's voice cuts through my thoughts as he finishes dressing me:
"There. He'll take good care of you."
Him? Who is he?
My mind spins, trying to grasp the logic.
By the stars and Mother Moon, what is going on?
