By Scott Ellis
The torture had stopped being pain three days ago. After a while, sensation was only data. Now it was just weather.
I slumped against the far wall of my cell, metal biting into my wrists. The shackles were designed for smaller creatures. They cut into my fur, rubbed the skin raw. It wept steadily, pale and thin. My shoulders had stopped screaming. Now they just hummed, an undertone of damage I’d learned to ignore.
My claws caught on the ridge of scar tissue across my muzzle. The brand.
Defective.
I’d refused to kill refugees. A dustball planet with three hundred thousand humans hiding under a leaking dome. Our orders were clear: no survivors, no witnesses. I’d slagged our own dropship instead, faked the kill-logs, let them run. The Void branded my muzzle, and my clan stripped my name. A year of torture couldn’t break what the brand couldn’t burn—I would not become what they wanted. Hollow. Obedient. Empty. So they’d left me here to rot.
Tomorrow morning, they would finally end it. Change me into something that couldn’t refuse. Something that couldn’t feel the weight of mercy like a stone in my chest.
Let me become something that didn’t have to carry this anymore.
***
Footsteps in the corridor. Multiple.
The door cycled open.
I braced for pain. But it was the wrong scent. No Dominion chemical signature. And they weren’t Void. I would have sensed that immediately.
Three soldiers. A young human male. A droid, green optics tracking me. And at the front, a small human female. She had the look of a person who decided things for other people.
She studied me.
“That’s a really big alien bear-thing,” one of them said, voice pitched high. His amber eyes darted between his scanner and me. “Should we maybe just—”
She flashed a smile. It wasn’t warm. “We’re taking him.”
She approached slowly. Careful. Deliberate. The way one approaches a wounded predator to help rather than harm.
She knelt.
Among my kind, the strong never kneel. Kneeling is submission. Weakness. But she didn’t look weak. Or yielding.
Her hands found the restraints. Small hands. Human hands. They didn’t tremble.
“Easy,” she said quietly. “We’re not here to hurt you. And I… I don’t think you’ll hurt me.”
The first shackle clicked open.
Something cracked inside my chest. I didn’t have a word for it.
For the first time in years, I felt the sting of moisture in my eyes.
The second shackle fell. Then the third.
My ears twitched. Sound in the corridor. Approaching fast. Dominion guards. Three of them, drawn by the breach alarms.
She hadn’t heard them yet.
But I had.
Something stirred in my chest. An instinct older than thought.
Protect the pack.
In a single explosive motion, I launched over her head. My body screamed. Every wound, every fracture, every infection. But the pain meant nothing.
Behind me, the human male screamed. High-pitched, raw.
The first guard died reaching for his weapon. My claws found his throat before his hand could reach his holster. For years I had been a prisoner. In three heartbeats, I became a warrior again.
The second managed a single step before I was on him, momentum carrying us both into the wall. Metal crumpled. Bones followed. The impact rang through my arms. Solid, familiar.
The third fired. The shot scored my shoulder. I loved him for that; a perfect shot. I caught him by the helmet, lifted him off his feet, and ended it quickly.
Three breaths. Three bodies.
I collapsed to my knees just outside the cell.
She knelt beside me. Her hands found my shoulder, fingers careful around the burned edges of the plasma wound.
“Did I scream?” The young soldier pressed against the wall. “I feel like I screamed.”
“At one hundred twelve decibels,” the droid said. “The exact frequency of a distressed child. Female.”
“That was a tactical alert vocalization!”
She wasn’t listening. Her hand reached toward me. Slowly. Giving me time to pull away.
Instead, I held still as her fingers threaded through the coarse fur of my head.
Gentle. So impossibly gentle. Light as hope.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For saving my life.”
She studied me for a moment.
“What’s your name, big guy?”
I gave her a low rumble.
She tilted her head. “Everyone needs a name.” Her smile deepened. “How about Gruff? Until you decide I’ve earned the real one.”
Gruff.
The word settled into me like the first green shoot breaking through scorched earth.
It wasn’t my name. That one lives only in my head now. It dies with me.
But it was a name. Given freely.
“Are we adopting him?” The young one kept a healthy distance. “Because I feel like we’re adopting him.”
“He’s following her now,” the droid said. “I calculate a 0.3 percent chance he attacks us. Unless we attack her. Then it’s 99.7 percent.”
The commander’s eyes hadn’t left mine.
“Ready to get out of here?”
I could stay. Let the wounds take me. Let the despair finish what the Dominion had started.
But she had knelt before me. She had seen the blood on my claws and chosen to touch me gently. She had given me a name.
Gruff.
I rose. Unsteady. Wounded. But moving.
I positioned myself behind her.
She walked. I followed.
Not because I owed her, though I did. Not because I had nowhere else to go, though I didn’t.
Tomorrow morning, I had been scheduled for the execution yard.
Today I walked out with a name.
Rate this story:
(3 votes, average: 3.00 out of 3)
You need to be a registered member to rate this.
Loading...ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wow, I absolutely loved that! Sweet stories with a touch of comedy are some of my favorites, and you nailed it!
Thank you so much! I’m glad the humor landed for you. Finding the balance between some lighter moments and the heart of the story was something I really wanted to get right, so I appreciate you saying that!
Grabbed my interest, drew me in, and then made it personal. Made me believe he could become a devoted protector that quickly.
Thanks, Tom! I’m really happy to hear that. Getting readers to believe in his transformation over such a short story was probably the biggest challenge, so it’s encouraging to know it felt believable to you.
This story tugged on my heart strings!
Thank you so much, Miriam! That means a lot to hear. More than anything, I hoped his journey would connect emotionally, so I’m grateful it resonated with you.
Loved this story! The heart of our main character was beautiful – it was amazing to watch his identity come alive as he was rescued – would love to see more! Great work! :)
Thank you so much, Maylivia! I’m so glad his journey resonated with you. Defective is a prequel to my upcoming novel, Shadows Over Earth, so this is really the beginning of Gruff’s story. I had a lot of fun exploring the moment that changed him, and I’m excited readers will get to spend much more time with him!
This author did in 5 minutes of book time, what many authors never get right in multi chapters. He captured and held the reader, vividly described the emotions and event highlights, and bonded the reader to the Main Character. LOVED IT!! Tell me were to get more of Gruff!
Thomas, thank you. That may be one of the most encouraging comments I’ve ever received because you captured exactly what I hope to do as a writer. I want every scene to earn its place and every page to reward the reader’s time. The good news is Gruff is a major supporting character in Shadows Over Earth, so you’ve definitely not seen the last of him!