xxxx

I start to stir a while later. Who knows how long I was out. My thoughts are muddled, and my mind is foggy. I can't open my eyes yet- I'm still far too out of it, but I know I'm not sleeping. Where... am... Try as I might, I can't seem to form a complete thought, though, very gradually, I start to wake up more. The past, all of it, is a blur. I can't remember any of it, well, I know who I am. Hawk... That's my... Name. My thoughts are slow. I groan as I open my eyes. A sharp dagger of pain pierces through my skull when I try to roll onto my side. Everything is grainy and blurry. Colorful blotches hover in midair; yellow over anything white, orange over any brownish color, and purple over darker colors. A wave of exhaustion washes over me, gentle, though, and I start to drift off again.

"Should we proceed, sir?" Someone's voice cuts through the fog surrounding my mind. They sound like they're talking underwater.

"Yes. Let's hope I've got the formula correct this time." There's another voice.

Dreamland has just captured me in its grasp when the pain hits. It skips numbers, jumping from one to ten in less than a second. I can't move. My body is frozen. Silent tears roll down my cheeks from the corners of my eyes. Go away. Go away. Go away. My mind can only think those two words, and it chants them over and over and over. "Is it working, sir?"

"Of course it is, you idiot! Just give it a few more seconds. Any second now..."

My mind hears their words, but doesn't register what they said. The pain grows. My breaths become shakier and shakier as the fireworks explode across my body. I want to cry out, to scream, but every time I move, daggers of pain slice through me. "Any second now, any second now." Please, someone. Someone make it stop. I don't know what I wouldn't give for any relief. Even if it was just for a few seconds, or something. My thoughts are all skewed. I can't think straight. I tremble as the pain becomes even worse, if that's possible. It was already off the charts. I don't know how I haven't passed out again. I don't know how I'm still alive. "Come on, something should've happened by now." The voice is angry now.

The same feeling I get when I Blend myself takes over. Wh-what's happening? I can't fight it- when I try, I hit a wall and cannot go any further. Something blocks me from stopping myself from Blending. My head falls to the side. The feeling spreads, and I can feel myself starting to shift.

What? When I Blended myself before, my bones broke and reformed, fur spread across my skin, my teeth sharpened, and my nails turned to claws. The whole process took less than a second. But that's not happening this time. I don't know what's happening. Patches of fur sprout randomly across my skin before stopping. A few of my nails have partially grown into claws. The bones in one of my legs snap, shifting into a dog's leg, but the other stays human. My canine teeth elongate into fangs though the rest don't change. Then everything stops. I'm partway into my Blended form; not a human, but not a dog either. One of the voices curses colorfully. "I could've sworn I had it right!"

"Perhaps the measurements were off, sir? I can look into that immediately."

"No. Have Joshua Spark do it."

"Sir, I will have him do that. He's currently at the Wasteland, but he can be here tomorrow, or possibly earlier, sir. I will send a message immediately, sir."

"Get him here by tonight."

"I will get on that immediately, sir." I try to slow my racing heart. My sides tremble with the slow, pulsing waves of pain. Come on. My mind is still foggy. The pain creeps up, getting worse and worse again.

"This ought to do it." A moment later I feel myself starting to Blend again. No... This time I don't fight it- I want to finish Blending so I'm not stuck in a place somewhere between human and dog, but I also don't want to. Something isn't right. I'm awake, but I have no idea where I am. Whatever those people are doing is keeping me from being aware of my surroundings. The bones in my arms break, turning into forelegs. New patches of fur sprout as the current ones spread. Blood pools in my mouth when newly sharpened teeth pierce my tongue. My spine lengthens into a tail as my other leg morphs into that of a dog. I still have my plaid bandana holding back my hair. All that's remaining are the floppy ears.

As soon as I'm fully a dog, I shrink, turning to shadows. It's as if I've become a tiny speck of dust; microscopic and powerless. What the hell is going on? "Where'd he go?" Someone asks. What, so now they can't see me? This is just plain stupid.

"Be patient. He'll be back, trust me. This time's the one," Someone else replies. I start to move, but I can't. I try again, and again I cannot. My paws are pushing against an invisible wall that won't budge. I'm stuck no matter how hard I strain against the force that is holding me in place.

"Wait for it. He'll be back any moment." I'm ripped apart only a second later, and I black out for a few moments before the pain becomes a little more bearable. My shoulder slams into the ground as I skid across the ground until I hit a wall. Well, that'll leave a bruise. My head is spinning, and my shoulder pulses with pain. I still don't move except for when I curl up into a loose ball. What the... When I look down at the rest of my body, it's all human; no fur, no paws, no tail. It's all skin, hands, feet, and clothes.

There's a growl a little ways from me. I look up. Everything is still blurry, and shapes move, but I see something that vaguely resembles a four-legged creature. Dark fur hangs off its frame. A light patch sits atop its head. A faint splotch of red is just beneath the light blob. Oh, it's chocolate fur... No. That's not right. That's impossible. I'm a Blender, and my Blended form is my chocolate-furred dog with the same blonde hair and worn plaid bandana as me. He couldn't be standing a little ways from me, could he? The creature snarls at the people who are just as blurry. He lunges for one of them, and the person takes a few quick steps back. A couple moments later, I feel a wet nose on my hand. I sit up, leaning back against the wall. Up close, I can see that the creature looks creepily like my Blended form. "Let's go. It worked and that's all we need from him," One of the people says. There's a clang, and then they're gone.

The creature sits down besides me, resting their head on my lap. If they're planning on hurting me, I'm not going to do a whole lot to stop them. My head is still oh so foggy, and my thinking is as slow as a snail. "Who are you?" I murmur slowly. They turn their gaze towards me, and their orange eyes are the same colour as mine and my Blended form. This doesn't... Make... Any sense. How could he be my Blended form? No, that's not particularly important right now. What's more important is where the hell am I? The lighting is dim. A few torches flicker with light a ways from me. Iron bars separate me from the hallway, so its obvious I'm locked up in some prison. When attack on T-LOOT-D washes back over me, particularly my fight with the eight Wasteland guards, I curse softly. I'd better not be in Guthrie Harper's prison.

Is this creature a modified Click? Maybe its eyes are cameras that are recording me, and he was made to look exactly like my Blended form so I would be willing to trust him. Maybe there are cameras all around me, recording my every movement and my every word. Maybe the dim lighting is so I'd think there was no one around since I won't see them so I'd be willing to let my guard down more easily and slip up. Maybe this isn't really a prison. Maybe the walls are just slabs of wood or something set up in four walls with a fifth a little ways back from the iron bars making it look like there are other cells. Then there might be some science lab around it with shiny white walls and sparkling clean silver equipment. Maybe they're using me as some science experiment.

I look down at the creature. His head is still resting in my lap, and his orange eyes are still raised towards me, gazing patiently up. His figure is less blurry, so now he looks even more identical to what my Blended form looks like. When I reach out a hand, the creature doesn't move, and he lets me touch him. The worn plaid bandana has the same texture as mine. "You'd better not be in there, Guthrie Harper," I mutter. At Guthrie Harper's name, the creature leaps to his feet, taking a step back as their lips pull back into a snarl. A growl rumbles in his throat. His claws dig into the stone floor as his hackles raise and his floppy ears draw back and pin themselves to the sides of his head. His eyes flash in anger. I rest a hand on the floor to balance myself as I rise to a crouch. My other hand stretches out in front of me in an attempt to calm him. Is he angry at Guthrie Harper or me? I'd better hope he's mad at Guthrie Harper.

"Is your name Hawk?" I murmur. The creature, well, dog, I guess, sits down. His hackles slowly flatten as his head falls to one side, looking at me expectantly. "Who are you? Are you my Blended form? That would be impossible though." I narrow my eyes. He looks so life-like. His eyes look real. His fur looks like fur. But that's just what he looks like. Perhaps his insides are robotic- wires for blood vessels, pipes for bones, cameras for eyes, batteries for a stomach, a computer chip for a brain. So many maybes' and perhaps'. So many of 'it could be this, but it could also be this, this, this, this, or this'. I rest my head back against the wall as I try to bring my mind back to me.

xxxx

Time ticks on. It's been at least a few days by now, maybe a week or so. Who knows what time it is, or if it's day or night. My mind swirls on and on and on. Is T-LOOT-D alright? Did we defeat the Wasteland guards? Did we win? There wasn't really a win in that fight though... It was more just a 'did we drive off the Wasteland guards and keep our base' type of thing. Jay! Vladimir! Are they alright? Is Sasha alright? Adrien? The rest of the T-LOOT-Dians? Please... Please let them be alright... Pretty please with a cherry on top? No... Come on. Are they alright? Well, as alright as anyone could be after having countless Wasteland guards swarm their base. I should've been there. How would the fight played out if I hadn't been captured by the Wasteland guards? Would there have been fewer casualties? I don't know how many there were with how it actually played out though, so I can't make a guess. My mind jumps from one thing to another faster than I can keep up. On and on it whirls, covering everything. It scrutinizes every bit of my fight against the Wasteland guards, seeing how I could've defeated them faster. Maybe if I'd had more energy, I could've escaped being captured and maybe we would've-. No. I don't know if our little pale yellow base still stands, and if T-LOOT-D still exists.

I groan. I get to my feet and stalk around the perimeter of the cell. A dark cloud of smoke hangs over my head as I scowl. I wrap my hands around the iron bars separating me from the hallway- my escape. My fingers are free- they're on the other side of the bars- but the rest of me is still trapped. I stretch out my arms as far as they'll go into the hallway, and clench and unclench my fists, turning my hands over. I pull them back in, wrapping my fingers around the cool metal of the iron bars. When I pull the bars in opposite directions, they don't budge. They stay stubbornly stuck in place, even when I let strength flow through my muscles. A growl rumbles in the back of my throat, and I kick the bars though I hiss in pain when I stub my toe. I hear a snort from behind me. My Blended form's doppelgänger has a dog-like grin on his face. I frown at him.

I watch the creature as he pads over to me. He places a paw against one of the iron bars and pushes against it. When it doesn't move, he snarls and pushes harder. Something about the way he looks changes, shifting slightly. It looks... It looks... I don't know the word. My eyebrows furrow. The creature has reared up onto two legs. His forelegs are up on the bars, and his eyes blaze a fiery orange as his muscles strain against the iron. Saliva pools in the corner of his mouth, slowly dripping down his jaw. Light flickers on his pearly white fangs. A low growl reverberates in his throat as he exhales. Anger rolls off of him in waves capped in white foam. I stand in the middle of the cell, trying to figure out what changed. This is stupid, but I've nothing else to do. There's a small rock at my feet. I pick it up, and tighten my grip. Strength seeps through me. The rock shatters. The way I feel when strength flows into my muscles... It seems so similar to how the creature looks. I can't describe it- I don't know the words. "That's impossible. How would that have happened?" My voice is nearly inaudible. The creature drops back down to all fours.

Something hits me, and I turn my gaze to the creature who stares back at me through his orange eyes. Barley and Wheat. The siblings who could Blend themselves into a goat and a sheep. Guthrie Harper separated their Blended forms from each of them, and kept their Blended forms hostage. They stayed with us as humans, but when Guthrie Harper killed their Blended forms, they were killed as well. I shudder as I remember them dropping to the ground one morning in the cafeteria. Bloody gashes suddenly appeared on their throats, cut by an invisible knife. It hadn't taken long to figure out why they had died.

Those people from earlier had done something to me. The pain wasn't normal, even though I had gotten a vicious blow to the head. Nor was my Blending. I hadn't wanted to Blend myself, and it was forced. It also took an awful lot longer, and it took two tries. Then there was the part when I shrunk so small I was invisible. And I was ripped in half- that's not normal. Could I have really been separated from my Blended form when I was torn in two? Could that really have happened?

I frown at the dog. I stay that way for a long while. Seconds blend into minutes, then those minutes blend into hours. Ok, I didn't stay frowning at the creature for hours; I did other stuff too- stalking around the perimeter of the cell, pushing and pulling on the bars, sleeping, sulking, many other things, but I did frown at the creature for a while. My mind's wheels spin as I go through the possibilities.

xxxx

I'm dozing in the corner, vaguely aware of my surroundings, but still in Dreamland's grip. The creature is fast asleep beside me, his legs twitching as he dreams. My eyes open, and I jerk to a seated position when the iron bars clang. "Chillax. It's just me," Someone says. A snarl rips from the creature's mouth as he lunges forward. I watch the Wasteland guard make his way into the cell. "So, let me get this straight. You, doggy," He turns his attention to the creature, "Are going to calm down and go sit in the corner. Think of it as timeout. And you, Hawk, are going to answer some questions for me. Honestly, and that means no lying. Capisce?"

I don't respond, and instead glare at the Wasteland guard. I pour all of my hatred and fury into my glare, imagining razor sharp daggers materializing in the air that pierce through the Wasteland guard's armor in spectacular bursts of blood. Unfortunately, the daggers don't appear, and the Wasteland guard is still standing in front of me. "So, you, little doggy, can go sit in the corner. And you, Hawk, can answer some questions." I smirk when the creature's hackles rise further, and he makes no move to follow the Wasteland guard's instructions.

"So, Hawk, I'm going to make this easy for you, and ask simple questions. Question number one: you were a part of The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils, correct?" No. I am a part of T-LOOT-D. I want to rip his head off. The care free and cheerful attitude is obnoxious, and it's going to drive me bonkers. I'll give it to them- it's a creative form of torture, but it doesn't change the fact that I'd very much like to drive a sword through his heart. "Correct?" He asks again. I clean some dirt from the corners of my fingernails and dust off my legs before removing a bug from my arm. It crawls across the palm of my hand and then across my other palm before returning to the previous one in an endless path of skin. "I know you can talk, and I've got all day." I most definitely can talk, it's just a matter of if I want to, and I don't. Don't you worry, I've got all day. In fact, I've got no plans for a while- my calendar is free, so I'm fine with sitting here. There are plenty of things for me to do, one of which being taking a nap.

I shift, getting comfortable before closing my eyes. A jagged edge of the wall digs into my spine. A frown briefly crosses my face as I move so I'm laying on my back. My head rests on the floor. The Wasteland guard huffs and exhales in an exasperated sigh. When the creature trots over to me and sits beside me, I place my hand on his back, my fingers curling into his fur. His fur feels so real, and his skin has the warmth of something that's alive. Then the other side of my mind juts in. But there could be a heater built into his highly realistic, but fake, body. It would mean one heck of a bill for Guthrie Harper though it could mean getting vital information on how to tear down T-LOOT-D. Why does Guthrie Harper want to destroy T-LOOT-D so much. I mean, we are trying to destroy him. Maybe it's more of why does he hate Blenders so much? Why did he create the Wasteland? It could be some stupid reason like one looked at him funny some time when he was a kid or something like that. I'm pulled from the depths of my mind by the Wasteland guard screaming at me. "Answer my question!" I lift my head an inch or so off the ground and raise an eyebrow, trying to hold back my laugh. He's clearly fuming. When he doesn't say anything more, I shrug and lay back down, my arm folding beneath my head to serve as a makeshift pillow.

"Fine. Be that way. I'll try a different question. Jay is your brother, correct? This is a yes or no question, so you don't even have to speak- you could just nod your head or shake it." The Wasteland guard's voice and posture have both lost the carefree and cheerful air they held earlier. Like that'll change anything. I stare evenly at him, careful to not let my expression betray anything. "If I were you, I'd start speaking. We can find ways to make you talk. It would be very easy to go back and say you are being stubborn. I can find someone who is far less nice than me, and believe me, I've got a wide variety of options." If I were you... We can find ways to make you talk... I have options... I sneer in my head, but keep the flat expression on my face.

I turn my gaze to the ceiling and close my eyes, relaxing myself into the loose grip of Dreamland. Dark fog swirls, and my imagination floats between real and unreal. I fly on the backs of griffins and pegasi as the clouds float below me. Suddenly I'm in the water with sirens and mermaids swimming alongside me, song filling my surroundings. Serpents dance around me. When I reach land, the sun is shining brightly and the air is warm. Bright flowers have bloomed in lush bright green grass. There's a tree at the top of a hill. It's peaceful. I lay down, basking in the sun and I get a moment to myself. I relax, forgetting everything for a while. No more Guthrie Harper. No more cell. No more creepily doppelgänger-y-to-my-Blended-form dog. No more nothing. Just me beneath the warm sun, all alone on the hill. Too bad it couldn't last.

The Wasteland guard roars in frustration though it's in the back of my mind. Suddenly there's an echoing snarl as footsteps sound and more bodies pile into the cell. I'm on my feet a moment later, ripped from my daydream with a sting like when you rip a bandage off your skin. What the hell? The creature is standing in front of me, his forelegs off to the sides in what is very much an intimidating stance; his fur is fluffed up to make him look even bigger and bulkier than he already is, his hackles are raised, his teeth are bared to reveal sharp fangs, his eyes are narrowed into blazing fiery slits, his ears are drawn back, his tail is lashing from to side to side, and his claws are digging into the floor. I watch him as he trembles with fury. His muscles are tensed, filled with energy and ready to attack. He growls repeatedly, one after the other after the other, and the sound is somewhere between a ferocious snarl and a seething bark. There's the obnoxious, cheerful Wasteland guard with some of his friends. Four more have joined us- one fairly skinny, one looking like he's about to explode with muscles, one with a variety of weapons on him, and one who appears to want to be just about anywhere else. The creature keeps glancing over his shoulder, as if to make sure I'm still here, before turning his gaze back to the Wasteland guards. You know, I'm not planning on going anywhere any time soon. Oh, how I'd love to have my stars with me... Or my sword. Or, well, really any weapon. I'd love to have any weapon, and I don't care which one- I'd make it work. I'm starting to go bonkers in this cell, and I doubt it's been very long at all though I have no idea what time it is or what day it is.

To say we're stuck in a standoff could be right, but I'm not sure. The Wasteland guards haven't done a whole lot since they've arrived. That changes in an instant when the creature lunges with an echoing roar. His claws tear into the cheek of one of the Wasteland guards, more specifically the one who looks bored out of his mind. He jumps back as a hand presses against his cheek and blood runs from between his fingers. A different Wasteland guard reacts faster than the other two, and slams his palm into the creature's throat before he can launch another attack. I gasp for air, sinking to my knees. Why am I gasping for air? The creature is too. Maybe he really is my Blended form... I watch him.

"So, Hawk, would you like to answer some questions?" The cheerful Wasteland guard asks with a clap of his hands. I glower at him, and raise to my feet. My expression doesn't change when the Wasteland guard with ginormous muscles stalks up to me with his arms crossed across his chest. He scowls down at me. I stare right back up, and mimic his stance. He'd get along well with Bear. They're both grouchy, and they're both bulky. "I'm going to ask this once, and only once, so I would highly recommend answering. Is Adrien Sauyer the leader of The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils?" His voice is low. I try to look around one of his tree trunk arms and find the creature, but he moves. When I try the other side, he again moves.

I'm suddenly pinned to the wall. Rough stone digs into my back. The Wasteland guard's fingers curl into my shoulders, and his face is close to mine. "Answer me, Hawk. You'd be an idiot not to." I have been sometimes known to be a bit stupid. The Wasteland guard with all the weapons pulls out a dagger and spins it, the end of the handle held between two fingers and the tip of the blade gently pressing into a finger on the other hand. The dim torchlight shines off of it, enunciating the honed edge of the blade. So... Is that supposed to intimidate me, or... Despite the cool expression I keep on my face and the thoughts I keep thinking, I know it's only a façade. A twinge of worry and fear courses through me before I force it away. "Is Adrien Sauyer the leader of The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils?" The Wasteland guard with tree trunk arms growls, staring me right in the eye. Anger rolls off of him in waves.

A spark of pain ignites on my shoulder, a little ways from where the Wasteland guard's fingers still dig into my skin. Blood soaks into my shirt before running down my arm. There wasn't anything... No weapon... No one came near me. There wasn't a weapon that hurt me. I look down, and sure enough, the sleeve of my shirt is ripped, and there's a wound. My head snaps to one side when the Wasteland guard hits me across the face. "Look at me and answer my question." I could do that, but I'm not going to. Jeez, he really hit me. That oughta make a bruise. I keep a flat face, and silently glower at him. "I bet I can make him talk." The Wasteland guard holding me turns, and I see the creature. He's being held by the skinny Wasteland guard. His jaws are tied shut with rope, same with his forelegs and hind legs. The Wasteland guard is holding him just below his shoulders, and the exhaustion is clearly written across his face. Sweat shines on his forehead. He isn't tall enough to keep the creature off the ground as his paws are still set on the stone. I smirk briefly at the creature's look of pure fury. A growl rumbles in his throat for several long seconds. My breath catches in my throat- the creature has a gash cutting across his shoulder in the same location I do.

Giving up so easily? The Wasteland guard with tree trunks for arms is replaced by the Wasteland guard who's decked out with weapons. "So," He purrs, "Let me get this straight with you, alright?" Let me guess; answer my question honestly? Wait for it. 3. 2. 1. "Answer my questions honestly, and we won't have any problems, ok?" I watch the creature, ignoring the Wasteland guard. It's probably not the best idea, I know. "Eyes on me, Hawk." His fingers dig into my chin as he yanks my face towards him. I scowl at him. I've mastered the art of glowering, scowling, glaring, and glaring daggers. "Glare at me all you want, it's not going to change the fact that I'm going to get answers from you. First question: Is Adrien Sauyer the leader of The Loyal Order of Thorny Devils?" My eyes wander from him. Just to the side of his left ear is the bored Wasteland guard. He watches a spider crawl across his fingers while he leans against the wall. Again, the Wasteland guard with all the weapons digs his fingers into my chin to pull my attention back to him. His fingernails draw a few beads of blood.

I zone out. My gaze becomes fixed on a bump in the wall, and stays there. The Wasteland guards try to pull me back into reality, but my luck prevails and I stay spacing out.

Phew. They're gone! The Wasteland guards pestered me for another while, and I acquired what's going to be several bruises. I rub my cheek, wincing slightly at the sting. The creature lays beside me. He snarls at any noise, lips pulling up to reveal his fangs. I watch him for what seems like forever. My eyebrows are furrowed slightly. Could he really be my Blended form? He got wounded when I did, at least I think he did. It could've been a coincidence. He looks identical, and he acts the same way. He has that same hatred against the Wasteland guards. "Alright. You need a name," I say suddenly, sitting up.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please comment and consider a vote! This was probably my longest chapter, ending up at about 5,180 words. 

Is the creature really Hawk's Blended form?

If so, how did that happen?

If not, who is the creature then?

So, Hawk has been captured by Guthrie Harper. How's that going to go?

Thank you! I will have the next update up a week from now, so this upcoming Friday.

-Werewolf14-