A Count's best friend.
Copyright on this story text belongs at all times to the original author only, whether stated explicitly in the text or not. The original date of posting to the MMSA was: 11 Feb 2018
The elevator opens up at the bottom of the shaft and Devon steps out into the lair. The first thing
he notices are all the balls of crumpled up paper on the floor. The trail lead to the computers and on
the monitors were different images of the layout of Doctor Shot’s clinic. He picked up a paper ball and
opened it. He saw that it was a rough sketch of the clinic with a plan of attack drawn on it, a failed
plan since it had been tossed on the floor. Devon sighed as he walked over to the computers. They must
have been beside themselves with worry, trying to devise the perfect rescue plan. Maybe without me, they
had no guidance. Plus the added pressure of their alpha being in trouble. That’s a heavy burden to carry.
He thought and laid the paper down on a desk, picking up a pencil that someone snapped out of sheer frustration
most likely. He wrote a healing spell with the added effect of keeping the wounds and marks on him on
a blank corner of the paper, tore off that piece and ate it. Almost immediately upon swallowing it, the
pain was gone and he could move around without being in pain. He intended to keep the marks on himself
to show his mother, maybe that would curb her thoughts on this ridiculous alliance and peace treaty.
He then saw something that caught his eye and irritated his werewolf senses. It was a sheet of paper that was laying on the floor close to the printer. He approached it almost cautiously, but he didn’t know why until he was close enough to read it. It was a page from a web article titled: The benefits of spanking children. It felt as if there was an aura of danger and disgust in its vicinity, he had to back away from it because he felt sick. Someone must have printed that, attempted to pick it up to read it but dropped it because it burned them. Did they doubt the legitimacy of his claim that werewolves must protect children? Did they want to be sure that spanking children was indeed wrong? Deep down, he was hurt that his friends didn’t trust him. But he knew that a claim must be backed up by evidence, and that evidence was sitting, discarded, on the floor, to be avoided like the plague. Now he had his evidence too. As werecanines of science, they must not have blind faith in anything, not even their alpha’s word.
He left the computer area and went to go get his bags and set up his space in the sleeping quarters. He walked into a room that was next to the bathroom. It was a carpeted room with five dog houses in it, the dog houses acted like the capsule hotels found in Japan. Everyone had placed their dog beds on the left side of their house, on the right there was a plug to plug in any electronics, and in the back wall there were dresser drawers for storage. He’ll have to tell Jose he needed a bigger dog bed because when he does become a wolf he wouldn’t be able to fit on his old one any more. He grabbed some clean clothes from his bag after he placed it in his dog house, intending to go take a non-torturous shower, he saw that the spell the Count put on his underwear to turn them into underwear with butt flaps was still active. Must be permanent. He felt awkward about having to borrow one of Jose’s pair, but they were both the same size. He’d go steal some new underwear from the store when he could, or hack some group he didn’t like and steal their money to fund his new wardrobe needs. He still had to pay the teens for their work, he’ll get that taken care of soon enough, but now it was time for an actual relaxing shower.
He went into a large bathroom they all shared, there were four stalls, one stall was larger than the others. One stall contained a toilet, one contained a urinal, one contained a fire hydrant, and the biggest one was the shower. He laid his clothes down on a bench that was near the shower and removed his hospital gown, he tossed it on the floor, he’d dispose of it later. He turned the water on to a normal temperature and stepped inside. As the water ran over him, he looked at the shampoo selection. Anti flea and tick formula, keeps coat sleek, shiny and healthy. Good selection. He thought as he read the dog shampoo bottle. He peeled off the band aids on his butt, the water made them come off without any pain, and put them on the shelf in the shower. He noticed that there were no bars of soap on the shelf and the bath brush was also missing, strange. After lathering up his hair and body using the shampoo, he allowed the water to rinse him off. He stopped the water, stepped out of the shower, dried himself off with a towel and got dressed. He grabbed his belt to put it on, but instantly felt nervous about holding it, why? He decided to take it with him instead of putting it on. He spied what had happened to the bath brush and the bars of soap and also the hairbrush they had on the sink. They had all been thrown in the garbage. The nervousness he felt about his belt, were the others nervous around items that could be used for punishment? Is this a natural fear, like fear of snakes and spiders was for humans? Cooking was going to be difficult if he was afraid of wooden spoons and spatulas. It was just nervousness at this point, not a full blown phobia. But would it get worse? Damn it, he just might have to talk to Her about it tonight. And whether he wanted to or not, he had to absorb moonlight or eat good homework soon, he was feeling deprived and he needed it.
He discarded the hospital gown and the twenty band aids before walking out of the bathroom. He walked over to his duffle bag and dropped the belt inside. He began to search the pockets of his pants in the bag and sighed in relief as he found his phone.
Thank the Goddess it wasn’t in the pants I last wore,
I don’t think I’ll get any of my stuff back from Shot... He told himself before pocketing his phone.
He went into the kitchen to get himself some proper food. He opened up a can of wet dog food and put it
in a dog bowl that he got from the cupboard, they had dog bowls instead of plates for obvious reasons.
He opened the fridge, took out some raw ground beef, and included a quarter of the meat in the package
in his meal, even pouring the blood in the package onto his meal like sauce. He had been craving raw meat
for the past few days for some reason, maybe this was part of the change? Even though he was already a
werewolf, things were starting to change with him too. His fur was darker, much like his mother’s, he
was bigger and stronger, and he was behaving less and less like a domesticated dog and more like a wild
wolf. He wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to move his pack into a forest one day, the hunting would
be incredible, all the venison they could eat. He placed the rest of the raw meat back in the fridge,
got himself a glass of water and a fork and sat down at the table to eat. He ate his food and drank his
water, so grateful that he wasn’t laying in a bed in Shot’s clinic eating and drinking from tubes that
had been stabbed into him. When he finished eating, he even licked his bowl clean, wouldn’t want anything
to go to waste. He placed his dishes in the dish washer and went over to the computers, it was time to
do a little hacking.
He opened up the hacking program and went onto Brothers Against Homosexuality’s website, he found the donation page.
10,000 dollars in two months, I’m surprised it’s that much. Say bye bye to this, homophobic
bastards... Devon said, linking up their bank account to his account on RootofallEvil.com and pressed
a button to transfer all of their money to him. When that was done, as an added bonus, he crashed BAH’s
website, if he had the time he’d add a code to redirect anyone who tried to get on the site to a gay rights
website instead. He closed the hacking program and checked his Root of all Evil account, the money was
his. He also saw he had ten messages from Sam asking where the money was, each message sounding more and
more impatient and angry. He immediately sent half the money to her, maybe that would settle it and get
her off his back. He had 5,000 dollars to play with, unless he stole from more anti-SAGA organizations.
He knew he needed upgraded tech, he couldn’t rely on KND and Teen Ninja tech forever. He would browse
Dark Side of the Moon’s evil tech website later, he felt he had to at least do something his Goddess wanted
him to. He grabbed the notebook with half its pages torn out, and most likely scattered all over the floor,
that was sitting in front of another computer monitor, as well as a pencil. He turned to a blank page
and started sketching the altar She showed him in his dream. Luckily he had a photographic memory when
it came to remembering how it looked. He drew four pictures from different angles and numbered them according
to the prayer phrase on each side, writing the dimensions that Asenath instructed as well. He’ll get a
3D model of this altar on a computer soon, buy a small piece of malachite, make it grow with the grow
function on his shrink ray and then get someone to chisel out the altar. Or he could turn the piece of
malachite to dust, make it malachite clay, put it in a 3D printer after he bought or stole one and have
it 3D printed. A 3D printer would be incredibly useful, for all sort of things, he heard villains were
now buying the schematics that evil inventors were selling online and printing machines, vehicles, weapons,
and anything else they needed with the 3D printers. And he wouldn’t even have to waste any of his actual
money, he’ll just steal the money. He decided he’d make the 3D model of the altar now and then get some
sleep for the rest of the day, he already felt like he was pushing himself and his sickness wasn’t all
gone yet. He got up and went to the printer that also doubled as a scanner and scanned the pictures he
drew. He went back over to his seat, sat down and opened the drawings in a 3D model drawing program. He
had just begun connecting the four pictures together and shaping them into 3 dimensional images when he
heard three elevators open. He swiveled his chair around and found Riley, Fifi and Jose walking out of
Hi, chief. Riley said, waving at Devon, speaking in a quiet voice, as if he was afraid to
speak to him.
Are-... Are you ok? There is plenty of paper and a few intact pencils that you can use
to heal yourself with. He said, thinking that Devon was still hurt because he saw that the skin on
his arms and neck still had the appearance of having been rubbed raw.
I’m ok. I actually did heal myself, I just added an extra word onto the spell that allows me to
keep the marks. Devon told him.
That’s a relief. We’ve done as you asked, we even shrank the ambulance and brought it down here.
Fifi said, holding out her palm to reveal that she held the shrunken ambulance.
Just in case we wanted
to scrap it for parts. She added.
I did all the work. Jose said. He got elbowed in the ribs by Fifi, who did not looked very
Ok, ok! I did half the work. But I’m still the second best tech guy here. He corrected
himself. He looked at Fifi.
Which makes you the best tech woman.
Nice work. Where’s Greg? Devon asked.
He decided to take the slide. But, knowing him he probably got distracted by a human female who
owns a husky, again. He’s been trying to exclusively court women with huskies, he thinks they’ll like
him more. Riley replied.
I should try that! Ladies love Chihuahuas. My future girlfriend could carry me in her purse, feed
me food off her fork, dress me in cue small dog outfits. I could live like a king. Jose said, sounding
thrilled about this possible future.
No, you won’t. Devon said.
What? Why? I’m not looking to steal your title or anything if that’s what you’re concerned about.
It was only a figure of speech. Jose said.
No, I mean, you won’t because you won’t be a Chihuahua any more. None of you will be your original
breeds. Devon said. The three looked at each other in confusion.
What do you mean? What will we become? Fifi asked.
Werewolves. I already told Greg, his black fur is turning gray, like a gray wolf’s. Devon
YES! I won’t be a small rat dog any more! Jose said, sounding thrilled about his future changes.
What about your plans to ride around in your hypothetical girlfriend’s purse? Fifi asked.
Screw that. I can properly protect her. I won’t just be biting ankles and hoping for the best,
I’ll be biting the throats of anyone that tries to mess with my future amada. And she won’t be hypothetical
once she sees me in all my wolfy glory. Jose said.
Do I look any different? Riley asked, turning into his German shepherd form.
Your head and ears are more wolf-like. It looks like you’re bigger as well. Devon said.
Fifi turned into her werepoodle form.
Any changes? Oh, wait, my fur is starting to grow in!
She said, looking at herself. She had the classic poodle look all this time without having to groom or
shave, but now white fur was starting to fill in those massive hairless parts.
Me next! Jose said, turning into his werechihuahua form and posing like a proud hound. The
others looked at him.
Your, uh, fur is starting to shorten a bit to take on the appearance of a wolf’s coat. Fifi
And your tail is now down instead of up and slightly curled. Riley added.
Jose suddenly looked disappointed and looked at himself.
Awww! I didn’t get any bigger! He
I wouldn’t expect changes overnight. It seems like it’s going to be gradual. Devon told them.
What brought on the changes? Why now? Riley asked.
It was my doing. It was unintentional and I had no idea it would happen. I’ll recount the story
when Gregory decides to grace us with his presence. Devon told them.
Wheeeeeeeeeeee! Came Gregory’s voice from the slide. He came down the slide and landed on
the mat. He stood up quickly, looking energized.
That is STILL fun! He said.
Nice of you to join us, Greg. What happen? Devon asked, referring to the muddy paw prints
on Gregory’s armor.
Oh, the wrong female took a liking to me, jumped me and started smothering me in doggy kisses.
Gregory said. He got red in the face when the others started laughing.
Well, you finally got a female to kiss you. Riley said.
I wanted the human, not her dog. Gregory said.
Devon stopped himself from laughing.
Alright, everyone, quiet down. We can laugh at Greg’s failed
love life later. He said. When everyone settled down and turned back into their human forms again,
Grab a seat, I have some things I want to say first. Everyone took a seat in the chairs
at the computers, they all wheeled over to Devon, gathering around.
I want to apologize for what I
said to you all earlier. I was angry. I came down here and saw all this, all of your plans that you tried
to make, all the paper crumpled up and pencils broken out of frustration, all the worry you felt. I would
be beside myself with worry too if any of you were captured and it was up to me to rescue you. He
It’s ok, chief. We forgive you. I wasn’t the best leader when I was put under that kind of pressure.
I snapped at everyone, shot down ideas because I thought that wouldn’t get the job done. Riley said
I’m sorry too for the way I acted. He added, addressing everyone else.
Yeah, you were an ass under pressure. But, I guess it was understandable. Gregory told Riley.
Let’s just be glad we’re all together again. Fifi said.
I’m glad we got that settled. Can you tell us why we’re going to turn into werewolves one day?
It happen on the first night I was at Castle Spankulot. The Count started prattling on about his
ancestors and how great vampires were. Then he decided to show me a bit of history and took me to this
room. The ceiling was painted with this grand battle scene, depicting vampires and weredogs, not wolves,
fighting. He said it was the last great battle before the weredogs just gave up and went into hiding.
At the centerpiece of the painting was a vampire, the Count’s great grandfather, chasing away a werewolf,
the alpha, with only a piece of parchment. It was known as The Document of Incorrectness. It was created
as the ultimate weapon against werewolves, and it changed us, made us into dogs instead of wolves, drove
us to only think