You make the turn, not even looking to see if the way is clear. It's the dead of night and even if there was someone coming, you wouldn't mind Murphy squealing a bit like the little girl he can be at times. As the lynx yaps about the details; you couldn't care less about the dispute from earlier; you roll your eyes and sigh. You just have to remind yourself that it's better than no job at all. You barely make it past the derelict abattoir and boucherie before you see a pair of shadows dancing, the ill-lit brick as the canvas of a dangerous shadow puppet show.
You slow down and the lynx grunts, "Hey, Red, why ya slowin'-"
"Shh, Murph," you grunt back and nod your head in the direction of what must be a mugging. You watch as the figures wrestle, their silhouettes merging and unmerging, the larger assailant looking like he's gained the upper ground. You park on the side of the street and Murphy's out of the vehicle before you can say anything. You grunt internally, you always knew Murphy would get you killed. You see the lynx freeze up as he turns the corner.
You begin to worry a bit and pick up your pace, training your pistol in front of you just in case. As you turn into the alley you realize why Murphy froze like a deer caught in the headlights. There in the alley are two men, both incredibly built, with the larger man on his knees, sucking the smaller guy's dick.
"Shit, Murph, it's just a couple o' faggots," you growl under your breath to the lynx. You had no time for this. You put your weapon away and the cat just glares at you. So you're not politically correct, big deal. Kids these days and protecting people's 'feelings.' You shrug off the stare and turn your attention back to the guys in the alley.
"Hey," you yell to them. You point a flashlight at their faces. The one getting sucked, a hugely built doberman, tatted up like no tomorrow, freezes up immediately, a look unbefitting a man with such a rough exterior. You surmise he must be a dealer of some sort; no way some thug like him could afford that gold chain and 'bling' as the street-urchins call it. The other guy's too busy blowing the dog to take notice.
Your mouth curls up in a sneer. "I said, hey!" you bark angrily. That got his attention. Slowly but surely, the man turns his head. You'll admit it terrifies you, but you don't let it show. You even notice Murphy taking a step back, his hands ready to draw his pistol if need be. You hear a crack and your attention is drawn straight back to the beast before you.
He's a hippo, a goddamn hippopotamus. You've never... never in your life would you think a hippopotamus could get that huge. Sure, you've known some that were pretty big, rotund more like it, but none were as shredded as the monstrosity before you. Thick, burgeoning arms, pecs that looked like boulders, thighs that might just be thicker around than you are. The fact that he was a hippo only seemed to multiply the freakiness of it all.
"Problem, officers?" the giant rumbles with a shit-eating grin.
"Get a room, Hercules,this ain't no place to be playin' with yer boyfriend like that," you reply, putting on as much an authoritative voice as you could.
"We're not... we aren't-" the doberman whimpers, as if this is all some sort of mistake.
"Aw, c'mon, officer. We're just having a little fun, aren't we, my little trick?" the hippo snarls seductively. His rough paw wraps around the dog's length and he rubs his tongue along it before stuffing it back into his maw.
You know for sure that this man isn't one you want to fuck with (in all senses), but you're the law, you have to do something. "Hey, listen bud, I'm only gonna ask you once. I said, get outta here."
"Mmhmm, or else?" the hulking hippo growls sultrily as he sucks even harder on the dog's shaft. You can hear the doberman whimpering and then...
"Ah!" the doberman yelps and his hips began to move. You see him clench at his chest, his fingers digging into his own fur. "St-stop!" he moans. "What are you..." You gulp when you realize he's not trailing off, he's asking a question. What is this hippopotamus? And that's when you see it happen.
It's slight, but you can see the dog actually shrinking ever so slightly and then suddenly goes limp. As the big hippo slurps his meal down, you see the fabric on his a-shirt actually grow even tauter as if he was... as if he was growing. You take a step back. You've heard of people getting mugged for strange things, but never body mass, not muscle! Murphy's also aghast, the cat taking a step back with you.
"Aw, wassa'matter, officers?" the giant asks. He stands, higher and higher, almost seven feet high and bristling with brawn. He licks his lips, and insatiable hunger in his eyes. He looks like one hungry, hungry hippo. He just smiles wickedly at the both of you, rolling his shoulders and begins to advance.
"Stay where you are," you command, reaching for your gun...
"Don't think so," the brute growls back and hunches over. You know he's about to bullrush you, tackle you to the floor. "Feed me!" he roars as he dives forwards.
A shot rings through the air. You hadn't yet drawn your weapon, but Murphy had. The kid was green behind the ears, but even at the academy they said he's the best damn shot they'd ever seen. And right now, you're damn glad that he was. The hippo slumps down at your feet, inches away from slamming into you. You turn to see a look of horror on Murphy's face.
"Is he dead?" the lynx asks wimpishly, terrified at the thought of possibly killing someone. You get onto your knees and inspect the beast. A sputter of blood erupts from the hippo's mouth, a bloody cough. Well, that answers Murphy's question.
"Call for back-up and an ambulance," you bark at the lynx. The cat looks stunned but nods and rushes over to the patrol car. You look down at the massive man on his deathbed. Just what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?
The hippo's eyes are glazed over, he may be huge, but he's not invincible, he still bleeds. You apply pressure to the entry wound, right in the neck. You're not sure what veins it's punctured, but from the amount of blood gushing out, you'd say it's something damn important. Then, in a raspy voice, you hear something that chills your blood.
"Thank you," he says. You don't understand it at first, but then he says it again. "Thank you." You stare at him, a look of serenity on his face, a soft look, one of a gentle soul. He closes his eyes.
"Hey! Hey!" you bark, slapping the man's cheeks. "Shit!" you growl under your breath. You can feel a weak pulse, his chest is moving slowly, life barely clinging to him. Your lupine ears can hear the gurgling, his airway blocked with blood.
You see Murphy coming back into the alley, running as fast as he could. "Is he gonna live, Red?" he asks nervously.
"I don't know, Murph," you reply solemnly.
The hippo coughs, and then coughs again before making a sound, like he's throwing up, dry heaving. That's when you see something emerge from his mouth. You gasp and tumble backwards. Just when you thought this situation couldn't freak you out even more. Murphy looks on with unease as well.
"Red, what the fuck is that?" the lynx whimpers. You don't know. The light is poor, but you're pretty sure you've never seen something slither and crawl at the same time. Yet, now you have.
"I... I don't know," you gulp. It seems to scan it's environs and then suddenly... it leaps right onto Murphy's face. The lynx lets out a girlish scream and you jump at him. Your paw wraps around that thing and rips it right off of the lynx's mouth.
"Oh fuck, it squirted something in me!" Murphy yells deliriously.
Just then, the thing squirms out of your grasp and begins to crawl along your body. You yelp and try to squash it like a bug, but it moves fast. Like lightning, it moves up your body, wrapping what must have been its tail around your neck and then latching its many tendril-like legs around your muzzle, forcing something into your mouth. You scream and suddenly feel the thing being pried off of your face.
You and Murphy look at each other speechless as the 'headcrab' or whatever it was scuttles into the darkness.
***
Your heart is pounding. It's been the same nightmare over and over again. It's been a week since that freak encounter along Hasley. You haven't spoken much to Murphy about it, and from the looks of it, the lynx didn't want to talk about it either. You both put yourself through a battery of tests, everything coming back normal, the two of you perfectly healthy. That hippo was alive, or at least, partially so, still in the hospital clinging to life.
You try to close your eyes and try to fall back asleep, only to see the image of that thing latching itself to your face again. You're terrified, what if it did something to you? But you have no one to tell, you're all alone, there's no one you can trust with this secret...
You bolt upright in bed and fidget. You've been feeling strange lately... the doctors say there's nothing wrong. But deep down you know something's up. And you were going to get to the bottom of it.
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