[>>>] 4 YEARS

It's been quiet recently.

"Chess!"

Not counting my family, of course.

They're always noisy, but that's besides the point.

What's strange is how the guards haven't been coming around to demean us like they normally do. If there was one thing the guards would do to pa.s.s the time, it was to either beat or insult the residents slaves.

Beating us, in particular, wasn't an option anymore, so they would always stop by the cell door with biting remarks and curse us to h.e.l.l. They saw fit to remind us of our 'lowly' status, and how we were only alive due to Chief Damon's benevolence.

Our father's name, by the way.

It's funny how I only learned his name through the guards and never my mother. Though, I suppose I can't blame her.

Whenever they would mention his name, her hairs would stand on end and her canines would expose as she barely held back a snarl. I feel she didn't, only because she didn't want to frighten us.

"Chess! Let's go out! Chesssss!"

…

As I said, not only was their behavior sketchy, but so was our fathers. He hasn't shown up for over a month now, when he would religiously come once a week to check our status, exchange barbs with mother, and inspect me to a disturbing degree.

And his observations didn't stop at just those meetings. He would always question mother about my most recent activities and actions, so he must have some way to keep an eye on me.

For the most part, I didn't care that he was watching me, per say. I was more nervous about WHY he was watching me, and only me.

I knew thinking about it would lead me nowhere, so I just continued with my training regiment, for now. If he wanted me dead, I wouldn't be able to do anything anyways. There was no point holding myself back.

*nibble*

…

My training consisted entirely of physical development, disguised as games. After the first time, I realized I would look weird and suspicious practicing the martial arts I learned from my past life.

And so, I decided to put my siblings to good use.

"Relax, Mable." I said, trying to placate her nearly inexhaustible supply of energy and continuous munching of my tail.

"Wait for Karv to get up. I'd feel bad if we left him out."

Not really, but I wanted to buy myself a few seconds of peace.

She nodded, turned around, then pounced directly onto his face.

"Get up, s.h.i.+thead! It's time to play!" She said with grin, her small canine poking out from her lip.

I was literal when I said a few seconds.

Mable was a little TOO observant of mother's vocabulary and att.i.tude toward father. She's become something like a yankee; always demanding, swearing, and being very physical to get what she wants.

She's that way to everyone, including mother…and the middle-aged cat-woman couldn't be more proud of her.

"Ugh…please stop, Mabs. It hurts…"

"Nyo!"

Our verbal tics still pop up every now and then. It's actually very hard to get rid of; I've tried. It's like having an accent; You can speak the language, but there's always some differences in p.r.o.nunciation and cadence.

It's probably a racial thing.

"Get up, you son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

We're cats, for one.

Two, we have the same mother, Mable…

"We have the same mother…stupid a.s.s…" Karv said, repeating my thoughts and trying to mutter the last bit so she didn't hear.

But he failed; we're beast-men, after all.

"What'd Nya say to me?!"

"Mabs, leave him alone." I said, in the deepest baritone I could muster for my age.

She halted the instant I spoke, sitting quietly while looking at me with upturned eyes; as if she had been wronged.

The look never worked.

It was interesting, though, how she could ignore everyone and everything, but when it came to me, she would listen wholeheartedly.

Karv began to look at me with a starry, idolizing gaze, muttering, "Chess…I knew you loved me best."

That sent a s.h.i.+ver down my spine.

"And you," I said, pointing at my effeminate brother, "Cut it out. I know you were pretending, so let's stop this drama and get going."

Now it was his turn to look wronged with drooping ears and sagged shoulders.

I could see Mable snickering in my peripherals, but I ignored it for the moment. I wasn't in the mood to micromanage their every action.

It was pointless and tiring for all parties involved.

"So," started Mabs with a rising, toothy grin. "Where will we go today?!"

"I don't wanna go to the chute," said Karv, holding is nose with a feigned look of disgust. "The 'cleaners' haven't shown up yet, and the rotting bodies are worse than usual!"

"But the 'Chute' has so much room to move around!" she argued, arms akimbo with scrunched brows.

The 'Chute,' quite simply, was an area where the deceased would go. The smell was rancid, but you become used to it after a while.

It still wasn't a pleasant place to be, but there were hundreds of different tunnels connecting to there, so it made for an interesting game of tag. We would be unable to track each-other through our sense of smell, and would be forced to use our reflexes, physique, and good eyesight to catch one another.

It was good exercise, on top of simulating hunting, stealth, and maneuvering skills.

Karv hated it because he always lost.

"I wanna go to the mines," he said timidly. "It's fun moving through the crowds of other slaves. They hide some nice things in their pockets."

"They don't like us there, dumba.s.s." Mable snorted, with arms crossed. "The slaves keep getting whipped, and the guards are p.i.s.sed we keep taking stuff."

The 'Mines' were where our mother used to work. As a Cloud-cat, her ability to transport ores with ease and high quant.i.ty were highly valued. It wasn't until we came along that her duties were rescinded.

As Mable said, we're quite hated there; by slaves and guards alike.

The slaves, because they get caught when we take something they smuggled from them. There've been a few that even died because of us.

And the guards…well, they didn't need a reason to dislike the fact we get free-roam privileges around 'The Pit.'

I find it weird that we have such "privileges" in the first place, but I'm not willing to turn down such an advantage. I would thank father if it didn't drive mom so crazy.

"So? The guards won't do anything other than call us names, anyways."

"You just like stealing things, Karv." She said, shaking her head.

He WAS a bit of a Kleptomaniac, but that's a mild character flaw compared all of OUR issues.

I'm a s.a.d.i.s.tic sc.u.mbag.

Mable is an aggressive yankee, with an odd obsession for everything about me.

Father is a 'heartless, selfish, scourge of society' according to mother.

As for mother, she is an overprotective sociopath who is one step away from becoming the she-hulk.

And if it weren't obvious from our previous conversation, were pretty complacent to the misfortune of others. Whether it be death, torture, or other degrading acts worse than death, we've grown numb to it all.

I never cared for it, while my siblings just grew up surrounded by it. It became the "norm" for them, and this wasn't exactly the place to look out for others; we just worried about ourselves.

So we're not, exactly, the ideal family to judge the personality quirks of others, in all honesty.

"Hmmm…" I muttered.

My siblings stared in bated silence, wondering what I would choose. I suppose as the eldest, I became the de facto leader of our little entourage.

More than that, though, they seemed to greatly respect, admire, and even adore me.

"…"

"…"

I do wish their adoration wasn't so excessive. I only 'played' with them every single day since they could begin walking, and a.s.serted myself into a leaders.h.i.+p role since we could speak.

…

…..

…

…this was probably all my fault, actually.

"I think we should go to 'The Zoo' today."

There was a bit of disappointment since 'The Zoo' wasn't exactly a place for us to physically exert ourself. They even found it a bit boring since it was all talk, and no play.

'The Zoo' was a place where slaves, similar to us, were kept on display for the human society's viewing pleasure. It was an area where the most exotic of races could be found, and I quite liked the place. The nature of it was exactly like a zoo back on earth where individuals were held in different pens with plaques stating what they were and their history.

I was a bit too mature for my siblings, so it was refres.h.i.+ng to converse with some of the adults there. Also, I was able to learn quite a bit from them; their stories, their experiences, their knowledge of the outside world. It was all so fascinating.

There wasn't anything like a library, or books, here; we were all just considered "beasts," useful only for our prowess in physical labor.

So my only source of education was through those who I met over there. Of course, even we had certain limitations and weren't allowed in certain areas. Humans treat us beast-men like a disease, and refuse to let us into the viewing areas civilians would go through.

There were back rooms, however, we had access to. This is where the exotic races were held until a showing was scheduled.

"Let's go," I said, watching their slightly despondent expressions. "We can stop by the mines and chute afterwards, ok?"

Almost immediately, their earlier gloom flipped into smiles of enthusiasm.

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"You're the best!"

"Thanks, Chess…"

And so, we-

"Wait, you three."

My siblings flinched at the obvious tone of frustration. If there was one thing that never changed, it was how defensive and protective mother got over us.

This scene was a regular occurrence whenever we went out, because she knew better than us how rough the life of a slave was, and how cruel the guards could be.

It's probably not what a parent should say, but she saw fit to explain some of the atrocities that were committed in the pit.

Blinding

Boiling

Drowning

Mutilation

Bone breaking

Sound torture

Enemas

Branding

Castration

Limb twisting

Denailing

Rat torture…

Things like s.e.xual a.s.sault or **** didn't happen very often, by the way. The guard's skewed sense of aesthetics and hate for our kind got in the way of ANY sort of desire toward us.

Makes me wonder what made our dad different.

Regardless, the list was endless, and it really did knock SOME sense into the twisted character of my siblings. They might be sick, but even they didn't want to experience some of those methods.

…though I could swear that Karv would have a gleam in his eyes at times.

I wasn't impressed, to say the least. Physical torture is too barbaric and straightforward.

Amateurs.

"Where are you taking them this time, Chess?"

Mother sent a pointed glare with an eyebrow raised. She knew who the decision-maker was of our crew.

"We're goin' to the zoo, Ma." said Mable, trying to direct mother's gaze onto herself.

"The Zoo?"

"Yea," Karv chipped in, beside Mable. "We just wanna talk to some of the weirdos there."

"They aren't 'weirdos, son," said s.h.i.+re with a sigh. "There are other races, besides beast-men, outside this place."

Mother paused for a moment, tapping her lip with a scarred finger. Her brows scrunched with eyes upturned, likely thinking about something while her free arm hooked underneath her breast.

"That old fox, Casper, did mention his grand-daughter was caught and brought here recently."

"Ok," she said, nodding her head. "It'll be good to meet someone close in age to you kids; it's a rare chance, so I'll allow it."

Children were hot items at 'The Pit', so they never stayed long. We made some "friends", but they were always bought by merchants, slavers, collectors, or n.o.bles. I can understand why, though.

Children were easier to raise and mold in comparison to adults who've already had established morals or rules in place.

If that old man Casper's grand-daughter is heading to the zoo, she's probably not meant to be sold.

Having connections are important in the long run, so this was good news for me.

"Just make sure you come straight back, you hear? Don't f.u.c.k around at the mines again…Karv."

Said boy just looked away, pretending he didn't hear a word.

Seeing this, mother couldn't help but shake her head.

"You troublesome little kits…" she said, shaking her head.

She walked over to us and slapped our b.u.t.tocks mildly.

…Why was her hand still on mine?

"Run along now, kitties. Mommy will be gone for a bit. I have to escort some fatty with his s.h.i.+t, then I'll be riiiiight back, ok~?"

Can you please stop pinching my a.s.s?

"Understood, Moth-"

"Call me mama."

"…"

I'm wasn't willing to argue with her.

h.e.l.l hath no fury like a mother ignored.

"Understood…mama."

My regret was boiling right out of my skin as she scooped me into her arms and spun me around like a carousel.

"Uwww…I can't take it!"

My siblings just stared as my powerless figure was flung about while mother continued to ramble on about how 'adorable' I was. Truly useless felines, they were.

"…you have other kids too, mom."

I was ignored.

I wasn't willing to hang around for another 10 minutes, so I bit her. I slipped through an opening, landing on all fours as I looked to my siblings.

"Break for it!"

And in seconds, we were gone; ignoring the outcry of indignation behind us as we scurried away like the terrified cats we were.