The fire was too high to jump over it. That stupid, clever kid probably considered that.

"You think I give a damn about your fire now!?"

I jumped through it. My arms burned like nothing I had ever felt before, but I got through it. I screamed and pounded into the cracked marble and black ash as the skin on my arms bubbled and boiled.

"Fuck off fuck off fuck off fuck off!"

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to ignore the pain that time. I tried to control my breathing as I held my arms aloft in front of me. Looking at them made me feel sick. I screamed again, less because of the pain and more because I just had to.

Another scream answered back: "FOXY!"

It was so close, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I turned in time to see Mutt charging on all fours out from that same damn doorway.

Only, when I looked closer, it wasn't entirely on all fours.

I felt even sicker. "Mutt!? What the hell happened to your—?!"

The bastard then slugged me across the face mid-stride before toppling into me and sending us rolling across the ash. I shoved him off when we stopped, crying out as the burning in my arms got worse.

"What the fuck are you doing!? Do you not see my—?"

Another hard punch across my face. Mutt tried to get at me with his hands, snapping and snarling, and forced me to put a foot on his chest to keep him off of me.

"What is with you?" I shouted. When he tried to grab onto my leg, I kicked him straight in the face with my free foot, throwing him back. "It's me, idiot! Foxy— your friend. Don't make me have to kick you again!"

"You're not my friend!" Mutt snarled, pulling himself back up. I saw his face then, the clenched teeth and the tears. "I'm going to kill you for what you did!"

He lunged at me again and I kicked him again. He only got back up a moment later, ready for more.

"What the hell did I do?!"

He was on me faster than I could recover. He grabbed one of my arms, but I managed to get the other up under his jaw. He tried to snap his jaws down on my face. I was barely keeping him off.

"Mutt, listen—"

He shoved his free hand onto my face. I struggled ever more to fight him off when he began pushing my head back, tilting it so my neck was sticking out.

My arms had to have caught on fire again. I was going to black out from the pain before he could even get to me.

"Mutt! Get offa him!"

Stallion, my savior, shouted this a moment before Mutt came off of me. He struggled against Stallion's mighty grip around his midsection, even bit into the guy's forearm. Stallion shouted and was forced to let go.

I prepared myself for another attack, but when Mutt fell he remained sitting there, his eyes the widest I had ever seen them.

"Stallion..." he said under his breath. I barely caught it.

"What are you—" 

"Damn, dude, you really bit me," Stallion said, examining the wound more closely.

"Stallion," Mutt said again, but this time he was chocking up, tears pouring freely down his eyes. Stallion and I were at a loss for words until Mutt turned and wrapped his arms around Stallion's legs and started sobbing uncontrollably.

"Whoa, hey man. Yeah, I'm alive," Stallion said, exchanging looks with me before pulling Mutt off a bit so he could kneel down with him. "Sorry for scaring you."

Mutt sniffed, still crying heavily. Stallion smiled at him until he happened to look down and catch the missing appendage.

His eyes widened and his face paled in the same instant. "Mutt, holy shit dude, what happened to your leg?!"

            "Mr. Mallard cut it off so I could find Foxy and Kat and kill them for killing you," he said through hiccups and sniffs. They slowly died away as he looked between Stallion and me. "But you aren't dead."

            "Yeah, they didn't kill me, man. Why would they do that? We're friends...Why would Mr. Mallard—"

"That son of a bitch!" I shouted, pulling myself up and nearly passing out when the fire erupted up and down my charred arms. "It was him the whole time! The witch told me he was working with her. He wanted us dead!"

I could not read the look on Mutt's face, but Stallion just shook his head, chuckling. "C'mon, Foxy, did you hit your head or something? That doesn't make any sense."

"Then why would he lie to Mutt?" I demanded. "Mallard's trying to use him to do his dirty work because he doesn't have the guts to kill us himself!"

"That just doesn't make sense," Stallion repeated, smile gone, regarding me with stern eyes. "I know he's done some pretty questionable things to you, Foxy, but he's looked out for us, protected us, for years. Why would he just turn around and try to kill us now?"

"The hell if I know. The guy is a prick. There's probably a list of reasons why he's trying to kill us!"

"Mutt only said he's trying to kill you—"

"And Kat."

Stallion glared and I glared right back. He broke it after a moment with a sigh. "Well...you and Kat both have caused...trouble for him...Maybe..."

"Are you seriously trying to defend that damn psychopath!?" I tried to stand, but it was impossible. I dug my nails into the ground as I sat across from him. "Where the hell do you get off?"

Stallion avoided looking back at me entirely. "Look, I'm not defending him, but maybe its outta his control. Maybe he's being ordered to get rid of you guys for...doing what ya'll did."

"Wait, do you think Kat and I actually tried to kill you?"

"No!" Stallion shot back, meeting my eyes. "Of course not. But I don't remember anything after I got attacked back home. And now I'm here? How did I even get here? I'm sure you guys didn't just drag my body around."

It was my turn to look away. "The witch told me it wasn't poison that was in their teeth. It was something else. Something that put you and Kat under her control."

"See? She probably was having me attack you guys and ya'll defended yourselves."

I shook my head while biting back the urge to scream. The pain in my arms was only getting worse, but I had to keep a clear head. Had to make him understand. "Stallion, this is my first time seeing you since you were attacked. He had Mutt, Kat, and me convinced you were dead."

"Maybe he did think I was dead, before I started walkin' around."

I remembered the witch saying something similar. But it didn't matter.

"I'm afraid that does not matter, Stallion."

That weary voice. So tired, so weak. I shot my head back to the darkened doorway. Mr. Mallard was stepping out of the darkness. His once peaceful features were marred by his cracked glasses and torn and dirtied sweater vest.

He held Mary close to him, a gun with bronze engravings pointed against her head.

"You son of a bitch!" I shouted, trying again to stand.

"Heel."

Stallion and Mutt stiffened up. I was on shaky feet but forced back the pain and the severe lack of pain. I could feel a weight coming down and gritted my teeth.

"Like hell I'm listening to you!"

"You will heel, kit." Mary closed her eyes and bit her lip when the old monster pressed the gun against her temple. "Or I shall wipe this mouse from the face of the world without a second thought."

"You piece of shit." I couldn't stop my burning arms from trembling. I took a step towards him and heard something click from the gun. I didn't know what it meant, but recognized that it was usually followed by a gunshot.

"Have you become so feral that not even the threat of death of someone close to you gives you control over your instincts?"

Mr. Mallard wrapped his arm around Mary's throat and held her slightly in the air. He then turned the gun on me. "Well how about this, beast? If you move again I will shoot you. Do you fear the consequences now?"

"I am going to kill you." My voice shook, but my legs wouldn't move.

It was the perfect chance. I could rush him down; get to him before he could even shoot. But my legs wouldn't move. I looked down at my hands, the ones with holes still in them. They were trembling, but for a different reason.

What if he did have a chance to shoot? A voice in my head echoed out from the dark corners. What if he did shoot me?

"Get on your knees or I will shoot you."

I fell to my knees. I could not stop looking at my shaking, smoldering hands with holes in them.

"Mr. Mallard..." Stallion croaked, like he was straining to even get those words out.

"Ah, yes, I was answering your concerns. Shedding some light on this disagreement you and the kit were having."

Mary tried to struggle, but her kicks and flails were already slackening, her face turning blue. I looked from her to the barrel of the gun. I still could not move.

"I'm afraid the beast was right. Minerva had betrayed our agreement. My intention was for you all to die."

Stallion was shaking terribly. Mutt did not move at all.

"Why?" Stallion managed to get out.

Mr. Mallard loosened his grip on Mary just enough for her to take in big gulps of air. He looked at me over the barrel of Mr. Copper's gun.

His big blue eyes were as cold as ever and a shiver went through my body as he smiled. "I hated you from almost the moment I met you. No spine, no strength, no will of your own. I believed you would be the easiest of them all to control. Of course, I did not recognize what I felt was hatred. It has been so long since I felt much of anything, honestly. But then you started becoming...difficult. Questioning everything, using your subtle wiles to get into the minds of the other familiars. Oh, I really started to hate you then. You were the last one. The last child I had to convert and then I would be done with this life, but you refused to play along."

Mr. Mallard stepped closer to me, bringing the gun closer to my head. When Mary tried to fight, call out my name, he closed up his arm again.

"It was then that I realized I wanted to kill you. I hadn't felt such a way for longer than I could remember, but there it was. But why stop there? You had already infected the minds of everyone else; there was no hope of them becoming loyal familiars. So, why not just...try again..."

"Mr. Mallard..." Stallion whispered. He sounded on the verge of tears.

"Does that upset you?" Mr. Mallard asked. "Are you upset to learn of who I really am—a killer, a monster—or does it just bother you that you never realized until it was too late?"

"You about done?" I asked. I clenched my fists and looked above the gun into his squinting blue eyes.

"Something the matter, kit?"

"You might be fooling them— fooling yourself, even—but I know the truth about you."

His white, fluffy brow rose. A look came across his face that he covered up before I could tell what it was. He kept the gun pointed at me and his finger pulled over the trigger.

I wasn't shaking any more. I could no longer feel the burning of my flesh. The sounds of Stallion quietly sobbing and Mary's labored shouting's were nothing more than dull echoes in my head.

All I could see was the endlessly dark tunnel and the bright blue eyes that hung over it.

The smile slowly sunk away from his wrinkled face. "Then you know that this is the only way."

There was a noise beside me. Like a cry of rage bubbling up from a ragged and ravaged throat. I turned away from Mr. Mallard and his gun to catch Mutt standing, shouting, and charging at the old monster.

Mr. Mallard reacted quickly, moving the gun to Mutt before I knew what was happening and pulling the trigger.

A loud, empty click answered – echoing throughout the desecrated ball room. I saw his solemn, old face give way to absolute shock before Mutt was upon him.

Mary managed to crawl away while the two struggled on the ground. Mallard put up a decent resistance until Mutt slammed the back of his head into the stained, marble, floor. After that, he went limp while Mutt struck him again and again and again. Screaming, crying, and shouting.

"YOU LIED YOU LIED YOU LIED YOU LIED!"

He did not stop until Stallion gained control of his own body and pulled Mutt off of the old man. By then, it seemed too late. Mallard's head was a bloody mess. There were more cuts and bruises than skin.

"Alex."

I looked from Mallad to Mary. She was kneeling not far away from the scene, breathing heavily. It was only just then I noticed she was wearing one of her dresses again, a lime green one with blue flowers.

"We need to go," she said, reaching over and grabbing Mr. Copper's gun from the floor.

Her eyes seemed a lot smaller then I remembered. When our eyes met, I knew why. Her glasses were gone.

"He did not mention that one of Quincy's children is trying to burn this place down. We need to get outside."

"Alright."

I could no longer move my body. Now that the moment had passed, it took nearly all my concentration to keep from screaming as my arms continued to burn. My vision started to get blurry again as Mary's small form shifted towards me.

"Need a hand?"

She was reaching down to me with something. Probably her hand. I shook my head, and then held in a curse when the motion made my nose temporarily become the dominant pain. Right, Tusk had broken it.

"Probably not a good idea. I can't even feel my hands right now, because of the holes in them."

"Holes?"

There was a moment of silence. I bit the inside of my cheek as I felt eyes on me. I tried to move my hands from the floor, but I wasn't lying. I couldn't feel them.

"Alex..." Mary said my name with a voice that almost made me choke. "Here, let me carry you then."

"What about Mr. Mallard?" Stallion asked. "He's still breathing."

"Leave him," Mary answered.

"You can't be serious, Mouse."

When she did not answer, his big blurry shape went to move towards Mr. Mallard's, but stopped halfway. Another, smaller, shape was kneeling on the ground behind him, holding him back.

"C'mon man, not you too."

Mutt did not answer him either.

"Alex is right; he was nothing but a monster who wanted to kill us," Mary said, her voice a veil of barely controlled rage. "Everything that happened to us happened because of him. If you ask me, this is what he deserves."

"Even if that's true...it's not right. It's not right leaving someone here to burn to death."

"We are all going to burn to death if we don't leave soon, you know?"

"Foxy!" Stallion called out to me. I was grateful my poor vision kept me from seeing the expression on his face. "I know your beef with him, man, but you gotta agree with me here. We can't just leave him to die, it isn't right."

Mr. Mallard was still breathing. He was close enough that, even through my declining eyesight, I could see the slow movements in his chest. I couldn't see it, but I could imagine his eyes were puffed over with bruises, his lips were torn and bleeding, his glasses a shattered mess not far from his face, a few shards of glass probably imbedded in his cheeks.

Not too different, probably, to how I looked after what he made Mutt do to me.

My arms burned like hell.

"You're right," I said. "We should finish what Mutt started."

"What!?" Stallion shouted. He threw off Mutt's grip so he could stand in front of Mary and I. "How can you even say that?"

"It's much better than burning to death, you know," Mary pointed out. "If you think about it, we're doing him a service. Much more than he ever did for us."

"You can't know that."

I could feel Stallion's gaze burning down on us. On me.  "He could have taken us from terrible homes, broken homes. He might have been trying to give us a purpose. Familiars protect witches—we protect people. Doesn't that count for somethin'?"

I remembered something Mr. Copper said. About Mary, the life she had. I thought about saying something, but didn't.

"It doesn't matter if we had a bad life before this, Stallion. It was our lives; he had no right taking them away from us."

I blamed it on the growing pain or the tickling in my throat that threatened to turn all my words into coughing fits.

"Well, killing him isn't going to get your old life back."

"No, but it's going to make me feel better about it."

Mary took a step forward and Stallion blocked her path. I watched as another colorful blur emerged from the shadows behind him.

"I'm not going to let you—"

"Hey, Stallion."

Kat tapped him on his shoulder. The large boy turned around and was met with a blow of some kind. I don't know where she hit him, but he wheezed out a surprised gasp, bent over, and, before he could recover, Kat connected the side of her foot to the side of his head with a kick strong enough to send him to the ground. He did not get back up.

None of us said a word. I blamed it on the dire situation. The entire mansion was going to crumble and kill us all of we didn't move things forward.

Kat's blur lowered over Stallion's. There was another short stretch of silence before she spoke again. "I took the children to the outskirts of the woods. When you're done here, leave through the window. Maple already burned away most of the floor below."

I wanted to talk to her. I wanted to apologize, but I wasn't entirely sure what for. Words weren't forming right in my head. They jumbled and mashed together as my vision blurred worse until I couldn't see anything but messy colors.

"Mutt, come help me with him."

I couldn't tell what they were doing. The colors danced. I thought I could hear footsteps, but they echoed, sounding really far away.

Someone touched my shoulder. I sucked in air as the fire raced up and down my arm.

"Did you want me to do it?"

A voice. A girl's. She sounded close and far away at the same time. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense anymore.

"Do what?"

My own voice sounded far away too. When I coughed, it sounded closer. It wracked my bones and reminded me of the gouges in my thigh and ribs.

"Mallard."

"I don't care."

The answer came easy enough. What did a duck have anything to do with me? What would a girl want with a duck, and why did she need my permission?

Oh well, who cares.

I said that, didn't I? I was pretty sure I said that. There was a long stretch of silence before the girl's voice returned. "It's done...Alex?"

            What did she want this time? Did she want my permission to do something with a goat? Or a chicken? A cow, maybe? What did girls want with animals anyways? Eat them? Or...other stuff...

            The thought made me laugh –or, want to laugh. When I tried laughing it hurt, really bad. How did I get so hurt? Why couldn't I move, or see, or hear?

            "Alex?!"

            The girl's voice was so far away. Like she was shouting at me from the other end of a dark tunnel. Maybe that's where we were. It would explain why everything was so dark. But, when I tried to move my feet, I didn't feel a floor. I didn't feel anything.

            I was weightless.

            Oh, wait.

            Maybe I was dead.

            "...ex...oxy...ed?"

            Voices – or echoes of voices. Too far away to understand. They were leaving me, or I was leaving them. Someone might've been touching me. I could barely feel it. Like the light tickles and scurrying of bug legs all over my body.

            "...one...her..."

            They were still talking. Or they had stopped talking long ago and I was just hearing echoes. Words and phrases that followed me when I died, stuck in my subconscious.

The tickling sensation stopped and I was left alone. Even the voices stopped. 

It was all still and quiet.

Who am I?

            The question filled the void around me, in my head.

            I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember. How was that possible? How could I forget? When everything else was gone, I was supposed to still have that. Me. If that too was gone, what did that mean?

            That I was dead.

            That I was dead?

            How did I die? Did someone kill me? Did I have an accident? Was I too old? Too sick?

            Why did I die? I wasn't too old. I couldn't be. I don't feel ready. I wasn't ready. I don't want to die.

            I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want todie I dontwanttodie.

            IdontwantodieIdontwanttodieIdontwanttodieIdontwanttodie.

            Please. Someone. Help me.

            "Hi, my name's Mutt!"

            There was a hand. It connected to an arm, outstretched towards me. That arm was connected to a person. A boy. No older then sixteen or seventeen. His skin was dark, not black, but a dark brown. His eyes and hair were almost the same color as his skin, but a shade lighter.

             As he held his hand out to me, he had a very big smile on his face. Someone who didn't know him would think he was being creepy, too familiar. But I wasn't one of those people.

            "Hi, Mutt," I said back, grabbing his hand. It was a firm grip. His skin was rough. "I don't remember my name."

            "Really?" he asked, quirking his head. He had the most expressive face; his chocolate eyes told me everything. Surprise.

            "But I know your name. It's Foxy!"

            "That's a weird name. And why do you know it when I don't?"

            He shrugged, but it wasn't because he didn't know, his eyes told me that. "Cause we're friends, Foxy. Why wouldn't I know?"

            "How did we become friends?"

            His smile grew wider. He let go of my hand. Before my eyes, he grew bigger, taller, wider. His skin grew darker, his eyes became more black than brown. His curly hair shortened and tightened against his head.

            "I think I first saw you as a friend the moment you let me carry you," Stallion answered. When he smiled, it wasn't nearly as big as Mutt's. When he scratched the back of his head I could see how nervous he was. Strange, considering he was so big. It shouldn't be easy to make someone like him uncomfortable.

            "I don't even know if you remember anymore. Honestly, part of me hopes you forget all that stuff. It wasn't my proudest moment. I knew you hated me, didn't trust me. I know it's messed up for me to say that I didn't start thinking of you like a friend until you were...like that. But it's true. Until then, you didn't seem like much to me. Just another kid pinning after girls and going with the flow of others. But you showed me that you weren't that. We tore you down to your core, man, and you didn't give up. I felt it when I held you. Even though you were just skin and bones, man..."

            He wasn't looking at me when he spoke. I could see him sweating, his fists clenching and unclenching. It was very hard for him to admit it to me. Maybe he had wanted to tell me for a very long time.

            "I guess you knew I liked Kat from the very beginning, huh?"

            He didn't answer.

            "Kat told me, not long ago, that you and her used to be together. If we're both being honest here, it really hurt when she said that. Part of me knew I wasn't good enough for her, but to know that it was you she loved the whole time, someone so different from me. I guess that's what they call a 'slap from reality'."

            Stallion laughed as he shook his head from side to side. He rubbed a hand over his shaved head before his dark eyes met mine. "She loves Georgie. Not Stallion."

            Before I could ask him what he meant, he changed. Smaller. Thinner. Long blonde hair sprouting from his head. His eyes grew bigger, changed from black to brown – like Mutt's, but much lighter.

            "I loved you, Alex. Both you and Foxy," Mary said. "Well, maybe love is too strong a word, you know? To be honest, we hardly knew each other for very long. Maybe a more accurate word would be 'idolized'."

            "Big word," I said, smiling. It came easy, natural, to smile around her. "What was so great about me?"

            "You'll laugh. It's because you were the first person to approach me after what happened with the Tea Drinkers. Even though it was because you were forced to, it meant a lot to me."

            I didn't laugh. "Mary, that's—"

            "Terrible? Sad? Pathetic? There isn't really a word you can think of about the situation that I haven't already thought of myself. But it couldn't be helped, you know? I was lonely. To put it simply, it could have been anyone. It just happened to be you."

            My throat tightened. It was my first sensation. I hated it. I tried to swallow, but the feeling wouldn't go away.

            "Why..."

            "I know. It's horrible. The whole thing is fucked, but it can't be helped. I'm sorry I told you, but you had to know. I don't know if I'll get the chance again."

            I tried to speak. "Mary? What do mean?"

            She closed her eyes. "Goodbye, Alex."

            She changed. She grew taller, thinner. Her hair shrunk and turned wavy. The blonde grew darker near her scalp; the rest turned a sickly shade of green. When she opened her eyes, I was lost in a sea.

            "Hello, Foxy."

            I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. The grip on my throat loosened, just a bit. I swallowed.

            "Everyone's saying you're talking to them," she angled her head, a sly, half-smile breaking through her stony expression. "Why won't you talk to me?"

            Because no one else makes me feel this way.

            I wanted to say it to her, but I couldn't.

            "Would you have believed, before that 'episode' in the woods, that I cared the most about your well being?" Kat asked, her small smile already fading away. "In a way, we were all bred to be good actors. Stallion acted friendly, sociable, when he never really cared about you one way or the other. Mutt never once seemed guilty over being the one who brought you into all of this in the first place, even though I know it hurt him, on some level. And Mr. Mallard...well, you know all you probably care to know about him."

            She played with some loose strands of her hair. A part of me wanted to reach out and touch them, but I couldn't move my arms. Even if I could, I wouldn't dare. May as well be poking a sleeping bear.

            "And I...I bossed you around. I acted cold around you. I pushed you away. In reality, I worried about you, I wanted to talk to you, and I wanted someone else to confide in...someone else who understood me."

            Our eyes met, but she didn't see me. I was far away, across the ocean. A distant world from her. A whole universe apart. 

            "I was trying to protect you, but maybe you could have been that person. I won't ever know."

            "I wanted to be that person," I said.

            She saw me. She smiled her half-smile. "I'm glad."

            She faded away into the darkness. I was left alone. But I didn't feel scared, or sad, or worried. I was alone, but I was not forgotten.

            If I was dead, if I could no longer remember who I was, there would be others who would remember me. Who would keep me alive.

            It was enough.

...

END

...

*Author's Note*'

Is this the end of Foxy's tale, or just the beginning? Either way, the "Unfamiliar" series is far from over.

Don't stray too far, within the week there will be an update in this book about my next two projects!

Until next time, my foxy ones.