Jared and Gnat - Part One - Habit

Jared the weasel slowly opened his eyes, but a piercing headache forced him to close them. He wasn’t ready to get up just yet, anyway, he thought as he lay on his belly on the carpetless floor. There was silence, and the air was stiflingly warm and smelt musky. His pointed tongue licked the daggers of teeth, protruding out of his lips, absently, and he swallowed the mucus. Jared’s five senses were starting to return to him… And they disgusted him. Gingerly, he pulled himself to his knees and rested his paws on his lap. The skinny, muscleless figure was wearing a red bandanna and black, fingerless gloves. He didn’t have any fur. Most of it he had shaven off a few months ago. He had started with his arms, so he could better inject heroin and then followed with the rest of his body to even it out. It hadn’t grown back due to malnutrition, but Jared could care less. “Hate you” was tattooed on his right forearm in a Latin font, and grime discoloured his pink skin. What was the point of showering? You picked up a lot of grime in this place anyway.

The room was sedated by heat. What little light that protruded the muck-covered window illuminated the dust that floated lazily about. A moth eaten couch was occupied by a gnarled-looking rabbit, arms shaven and pin-pricks populating his forearms, and was flat out on his back with one arm dangling over the edge. He was wearing steel-toed boots and nothing else, and was pierced with a bullring. Both of them showed signs of physical harm. Jared sported a blood-stained bandage wrapped around one of his skinny legs, and the emaciated rabbit had a black eye and ripped ears. This couch was the only piece of furniture in the house, other than the mattresses that other users crashed on. Jared chewed on his knuckle, as he usually did when fixing for some more H.

Jared’s bloodshot, red eyes darted around the room, and he growled for reasons unknown even to himself. Then, he noticed maggots crawling across Gnat, the rabbit on the couch. Maggots only show up when there’s death present, which would have concerned Jared had he been in the right state of mind. When you are a heroin addict (or any kind of addict for that matter), nothing else matters. All you think about is how you’re going to get your next fix, and you’ll do a lot for that fix. Indeed, Gnat and Jared had hit rock bottom, but they were both apathetic. Suddenly, the dog-eared rabbit spluttered and fell off the sofa. Startled, he jumped up and flicked the maggots off his body. Gnat had always described maggots as “God’s gift”, and had become fascinated with them; the way they remove your worthless corpse from the earth, the way they harvest you and nest in your bones. Gnat welcomed them.

“Come on,” said Jared, pulling himself to his feet. “I know a guy.” This obviously meant a place to get high to both of them, as it was the only thing that would perk their interests. Having been in the Industrial music business a long time, they both knew some horrible people, but people that could get them what they wanted. They did not have any money, but they often ‘paid’ for the gear with the little dignity they’ve got left. They didn’t care though. After all, it’s not like doing things like that brought them to any harm. They just did them and that was that. It was worth it for the heroin anyway. Jared and Gnat limped towards the door.

Daylight brought out how pitiful they looked. Everyone knew who they were. Most people had bought an album from them before they developed a habit. They weren’t really into the music, but they bought it anyway out of the novelty of having a somewhat famous band live in their neighbourhood. Gnat shook in the cold as he walked alongside his bandmate. The piercing that he had got became infected due to all the coke he had snorted, but the H took that pain away. It wasn’t long before they’d reached an alley in the scummiest part of town, an industrial complex that had not been used for decades. When Jared decided to crash in the old factories, he sometimes put the machinery on, because it soothed him. He loved the rythmatic clanging and synchronization. “Wait here,” ordered Jared as he turned into the alleyway. The placed smelled foul. It reeked of rat shit and everything offensive to the senses. “Vren…” He called after walking deeper into the alley for a while. Echo… No response… “Vren!” Jared was shouting now.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from behind a dumpster, with a backpack that Jared eyed hungrily. Vren the crux was old ‘friend’ from when they were touring. There was always a party backstage after the show, and Vren would bring it with him.

Jared bit into his knuckle again.

“Pleasure to see you again, J,” greeted the crux with a smile that looked like someone had cut it into his face. Returning to his threatening stare, now, he snarled “Now what the fuck do you want?”

“The usual,” Jared replied quietly.

Hands in his pockets, Vren walked smugly over to Jared. “That’s $3000, then.” He shrugged, turning his back to Jared. “I’m still broke. You know that,” replied the weasel, with a sense of defeat and dread coming. Suddenly, Vren turned around and held Jared’s paw softly in his own, touching noses with him. “Then you know the drill,” He said, smiling.

Gnat cringed as he heard the grunting...