"I have been so looking forward to this," he said, in that dark voice. "Bridget tells me stories about you. I must say, I do find them rather amusing. She has a high regard for you, sir."
I didn't answer.
The shadows changing on the candle's breath.
He held out a long fingered hand. Sharp claws pushed through the soft pads of each finger, and when he smiled, his teeth were pointed, tiny shards of dog lodged in the human. "What's wrong?" he said. "Won't you shake my hand, sir?" He could retract the claws at will, and he did so now, presenting a soft hand to me, but still I wasn't tempted. "Don't you like me, Scribble? After all, I'm the one who saved Bridget."
"Saved her from what?" I asked.
"Why, from the pure life, of course."
"I'm taking Bridget back," I said.
Uber turned his face to the candle. He closed his eyes slightly against the glare. "Ah yes," he said. "I was expecting this. Dingo warned me thus."
"It's going to happen."
"Put down the food please, sir."
"I can't."
"Why's that?"
"I need the Thing."
"You call him a thing. That's shows little respect. Food is most precious, and should be treated accordingly."
"Fuck you."
Uber closed his eyes fully, for a moment, whilst stroking Karli on his lap.
"This is a luscious robobitch," he said. "I thank you for bringing her to me."
And as he spoke, he was moving his fingers between Karli's hindlegs.
"Scribble?" said Twinkle, from her chair.
"Don't worry, kid," I told her. "It's under control."
"Is it, indeed?" said Uber. "Under control? Is it under control? Oh good. Whose control?" And each word came darker than the last, and more dog-like, like he was losing it, the human, and getting one serious rag on.
"I'm walking out of here," I said.
"Don't push him, Scribb,'said Bridget
"I'm taking the Thing with me," I said. "You ready, Twink?"
"I'm ready," she answered. And then turned to the pet. "Karli!" she called.
Karli pricked up one ear towards Twinkle's voice, and then refolded it. "Come on, Karli!" Twinkle tried again. But I guess that dog was too happy.
"You coming too, Bridget?" I asked.
She didn't even look at me.
Twinkle was on her feet, by my side.
Uber was stroking Karli on the neck, the underside, where she loved it the most. He blew out the candle, even from that distance, with a dog's breath. When he turned back to me, his human face was split by a pure canine grin.
"Don't let me do this," Uber said, tightening still further. And at first Karli let it happen, thinking it a touch of love. But then feeling it for what it was; an act of torture. Uber's fingers were squeezing on the windpipe, and his claws were coming out, pricking tiny jewels of blood from Karli's neck. He had an expert's knack of finding the soft flesh between the plastic bones. Karli was whimpering now, struggling to get loose. Uber parted his thick lips, showing those chiselled teeth. "I am Das Uberdog," he growled. "The world is my shitting place." And his eyes were wild, wild and free, as his claws tightened on the wet throat.
I made a struggling move, under the digging weight of the Thing, but Twinkle beat me to it. She launched herself forwards, hurling herself at Das Uber with all her young strength.
Uber bent a powerful dog-muscled leg in two, like a levered machine, so that Twinkle was pressed up against it, struggling to get Karli loose. Then Das Uber unflexed his leg, quickly and with a finely tuned force, that sent Twinkle screaming, backwards, to land at my feet.
"What is your reading of the situation, sir?" asked Das Uber. Blood from Karli's neck was leaking between his long human fingers.
"I think you smell like shit, "I said.
"Thank you,"he replied.
So I turned around.
Twinkle was clutching at my legs, trying to stop rne, crying out, "Scribble! Scribble! Don't leave us!"
But I just turned around, and walked away.
Some things ore more important than others, and if that makes me bad, then let it stand.
I was heading back down the stairs, the weight of the Thing on my shoulders and back, almost pulling me over.
Cold, like stone.
Twinkle was crying from above, but I was down on the first landing now, carrying the weight. Felt like I was carrying Desdemona herself. That's how I pictured it, the swap already made, just to get the blood pumping. Past the front room where the bitchgirl was licking herself to a frenzy. I could hear her whining from under the door. Around the corner, along the corridor, towards the kitchen, where all three dog people were now down on the floor, rolling around, travelling some mutant Vurt, fuelled by the Thing's flesh.
Where was Mandy? Where was Twinkle? Where was the Beetle? Where was the Bridget? Why was I doing this alone?
And then Uber's howl, from the top storey. Sounded like a siren's cry, refused in love. The scrabbling of his dog claws on lino and floorboards. Me taking a lurching race for the last stairs, where the front door lay waiting, and the doordog was turning to see what all the howling was about.
Thing was, he was just a little bit busy.
Because Mandy was happily wrapped around him, one hand reaching down stroking him between his legs.
Thanks for the help, Mandy. Appreciate it.
But then I saw that her other hand was reaching for the coat hook, and I changed all that around. Do it, girl! Do it!
I could hear the dogs getting close behind as I raced down, stumbling under the burden of the Thing, slipping on dogshit, making a slide of it, heading straight for the doordog. His eyes were so wide, felt like I was going to slide right on in there. Something was grabbing at me from behind, pulling at the Thing on my back, dragging hard, so we were pulled up, and back, halfway down the stairs, lodged against the two walls. A strong, white, human hand reached around and grabbed my neck. My face was jerked back, and I was looking straight into the eyes of Das Uberdog. That's when the lights came on.
A scorching brilliance.
Every lamp shining down with a fierce radiance, dazzling in rainbows of colours.
Beetle! Was that your work, my man?
I heard dogs behind me howling in pain; sounded like a bad jerkout.
But not Uber.
He took it, unblinking, and I felt his claws digging in at my throat.
I brought my right hand up, and backwards, in a sweeping arc, the breadknife lodged solid in my fingers.
Das Uber saw it coming, moved his face with a dog's jammed-up instinct, whip-fast, away from the blade's path.
Too slow, sucker!
The knife went in, hard against the flesh, somewhere on his left cheek, hit bone, slipped, cut through, into the jawline.
Blood on my face, Das Uber howling, me twisting the knife, hard!
I was free of the grip now, so I heaved the Thing back up, letting go of the knife, and started for the door again. The doordog had struggled free of Mandy. He was shielding his eyes from the glare with one forepaw, struggling up the stairs, his other paw flailing around in front of him.
That's when Mandy delivered. Delivered good.
Do it, girl!
First the flash of bright hot light, then the exploding air, the noise of it enough to kill, then the howling scream of Doordog as he's thrown up the stairs by the force. He bangs against me, and then drops. In the centre of his back a black and ragged hole is burning. Flame bullet.
The dogs were howling from the top of the stairs, and when I turned I saw Das Uberdog pulling the knife out of his torn face. He peeled his gums back, away from the long teeth, displaying his wound.
I stepped over the body of Doordog, and joined Mandy at the bottom. She was standing with legs apart, my gun in both hands, just like she'd done, no doubt, in countless Bloodvurts. At the top of the stairs I could see the dogs scuffling about in panic, banging into the walls, their half-cut brains struggling with the messages. Behind them Bridget and Twinkle were standing. Twinkle had Karli by her side. Robodog looked okay, a bit wobbly, some blood on its fur.