Ozzie blushed as he inched closer to Thrax at Klepta’s comment. It was the D-Day for Gregory Metropolis and everyone were gathered at dawn at the VIP reserved parking lot behind the Mole Blitz to group up and get on with the grand heist. Thrax had wanted his little pet to be dressed for the occasion, and right now, Ozzie felt that he wanted to be anywhere but there. The hooting, whooping and whistling of the germs and bacteria-s present were not exactly helping him feel any better either.
The cell felt rather awkward wearing what he was told to wear right now: a custom-made gothic-lolita dress complete with a headdress, detachable sleeves and an inner wire petticoat to make his skirt puffed up, and mesh stockings and high platform buckled shoes to match. After the punishment he received last night, he dared not voice out his protest—not even questioning where the heck in Greg did his Master get him this outfit—and wore it without a fight, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. His mind was screaming bloody murder about how embarrassing he might look being caught dead like this, and he knew Thrax knew he was feeling that way when he caught Thrax looking at him with an amused glow on his face, his yellow eyes reading his mind through his own black orbs. Thrax took advantage of Ozzie’s morphing abilities to comb his hair, elongating it until it ran past his shoulders, and even took the liberty to help him shave his goatie and pluck off the remaining stubs, making him look like a real she-cell.
“Shut up, runt!” Thrax growled at Klepta as he held Ozzie close to his side. “Just keep your hands off my pet and stick with the game plan! And that goes for all of you!”
The germs and bactiera-s fell silent and nodded at Thrax’s bark, knowing better than to incur his wrath. They have witnessed firsthand Thrax’s murderous capabilities when one of them thought Thrax’s idea was ridiculous and impossible. He stated boldly out loud that he shouldn’t have fallen for “his stupid broad” and get tricked into this wild goose chase in the first place, which cost him his life as he was grabbed by the neck, dragged to the aquarium in the private room where they had their meeting and was boiled alive as Thrax dunked his head in and heated up the water at the same time. They almost felt an awed admiration towards Ozzie because of him still standing alive and kicking even though it was evident he had been with this killer virus for quite some time, and also the fact that the cell scowled at him and said that he didn’t have to do that during the incident, but only earned a pinch on the cheek and a grudging “He was insulting you, baby” grumble from the virus.
“I just don’t understand why you had to use this kind of game plan,” Klepta huffed, running his fingers through his locks. He was also another person the germs and bacteria-s looked up to because he was the only one who dared to speak to Thrax with the same tone he did and still survive a beating. “I don’t know why you can’t just barge in and take them all out. You’re better than going around sneaking like this. And to think you’re using our doll to…”
“Don’t. You. Dare,” Thrax growled as he grabbed Klepta by the collar. Ozzie grabbed onto his trench-coat to stop him from starting a brawl as usual, but Thrax ignored him. “This is a totally different city we are talking about, with a different set of backgrounds and different immunity system. This is not like all the small fries I’ve taken down so far, and as much as I hate to have my baby participate in this, he is very crucial in taking down this city. Just because you know every badass in this city, doesn’t mean I didn’t do my own homework as well, and the answer to this equation lies on my baby. ‘Sides, I still gotta make it big in the medical books. No harm letting them theorize that I’ve mutated into an unpredictable strain or something. Don’t question my methods. If you don’t like it, you can always just leave. I don’t need you in the first place.”
“And let you monopolize and manipulate our doll?” Klepta said as he activated his plasma claws, daring Thrax to even try to harm a hair out of him. “I’m more or less in this as much as you do, and I vowed to protect our doll from any harm, even if it means coming from a wimp like you! If this master plan of yours get our doll anywhere near any sort of danger, I will personally declaw you myself!”
“Stop being such a knight in shining armour, runt! He’s my baby, and I know what I’m doing. You’re just innit coz you wanna get into his pants!”
“Why, I oughta…”
“Please, Master, please,” Ozzie begged, pulling harder at Thrax’s trench-coat. “Time is running out. We better get going if we wanna get this over and done with.”
Thrax and Klepta glared at each other with a vengeance before the elder virus let the younger go. He turned to Ozzie and stroked his hair.
“Remember what we have planned, baby?”
“Yes, Master,” Ozzie replied timidly, knowing that there was no backing out of this now that they were all here and him in this getup.
“Oh, wait! I got something perfect to match with that!” Klepta pointed, then made a dash to his car. A few seconds later he returned with a white with black spots puppy in his arms. Gleefully, he handed the yapping, panting pup to Ozzie.
“What is that?” Thrax demanded, forbidding Ozzie to come close to it.
“Oh, don’t be such an ass, wimp,” Klepta said in an annoyed tone. “It’s just a puppy.”
“I know it’s a puppy. I’m not blind. What I meant is…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know what you mean, wimp. Look, I got this from a friend of mine. The name’s Caesar, if I’m not mistaken, from the AIDS family. He’s got this huge big-ass dog with him that got knocked up when he was killing the previous city. When that bitch gave birth, he dumped half of the litter into my car for no particular reason other than a note saying that they were a parting gift before he left the city we were invading. I’ve been trying to give them away and everyone seemed to choose all but this one. I thought maybe Ozzie might have it. After all, it complements the dress he’s wearing.”
“I’ve already got a pet!” Thrax growled as he shoved Klepta and the puppy away, seeming to want to start another brawl. “I don’t need another mangy mutt to feed! Get it outta my face!”
“Why don’t you ask our doll first? See if he wants it or not?” Klepta raised a brow, testing his patience.
“How many times must I tell you? He’s not our doll, he’s my baby! And my baby wouldn’t want that sort of mutt around,” Thrax turned to Ozzie, “do you, baby?”
Ozzie looked up at Thrax, not sure what to answer. It was evident that the virus wanted him to decline Klepta’s gift, but to be honest, Ozzie had always wanted a pet ever since he saw a fire station pup when he was 13, but being poor back then, he couldn’t afford to feed himself, let alone a pet, and when he was an immunity cop, his busy schedule didn’t exactly allow him time to sit back, relax and play with one. Now he was more or less free from all obligations except to serve Thrax, it wouldn’t hurt to have a pet now…would it?
“Do you, baby?” Thrax asked again, his eyes and tone a warning aura. Everyone present held their breath, waiting for Ozzie’s answer.
Shockingly to them, Ozzie didn’t say anything. Occasionally he looked up with forlorn eyes at Thrax, meeting his glaring yellow orbs, before looking down again, playing with the frills of his dress, but other than that he did not—or dare not—say a word. The response Thrax gave him was venomous as his eyes widened in angry shock at Ozzie’s silent defiance, making everyone else back away, afraid to find out what the virus might do to the cell. Seeing that Ozzie was still in his timid, silent mode, not answering his question, Thrax rolled his eyes in frustration, growled and hastily grabbed the puppy from Klepta’s hand by the scruff of the neck, making the little mutt yelp slightly in pain. He shoved it onto the surprised Ozzie’s chest, who in turn tentatively wrapped his arms around it.
“It’s your responsibility, you hear me?” Thrax barked, then leaned near Ozzie’s ear and whispered, “And I expect something outta this after this is over. That’s not a request.”
Ozzie nodded and hugged the puppy gratefully like a kid who had just been given a Christmas present. Finally, after so many years, he finally got a pet of his own. As he allowed the puppy to lick his face, he knew Thrax was going to make him pay for this brief act of kindness (?) he bestowed upon him, but he didn’t mind. As long as he got what he wanted, he could do an all-nighter if that’s what Thrax wanted.
“Shall we get started now?” Thrax got back to business, rounding up the gang who looked like they finally remembered how to breathe. When everyone voiced their agreement, Thrax turned to Ozzie and said, “Make me proud, baby. If any of these vermin do anything to you, tell me, alright, baby?”
“Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded before moving to the group he was assigned to. He walked past Klepta and nodded curtly.
“Thank you, Klepta, for the puppy.”
“No big, doll,” Klepta flashed a smile and waved his thanks away casually. “That’s what families do. So watcha gonna name it, doll? It’s a male, so give it a good one.”
Ozzie looked at the puppy that was panting and looking up at him affectionately. It reminded him of the same look given by one of the rookies-in-training he had the sort of ‘unfortunate’ luck to babysit back in Frank. Sadly, the cell died trying to protect him as he moved in the way of a bullet that was meant for him, shot by an overzealous germ who wanted to rupture a blood vessel that might cause Frank to get a stroke. He smiled as he stroked the puppy’s head.
“Kiaran. I’ll name him Kiaran.”
--:--
“Halt, all of you! You’re all under arrest!”The germs and bacteria-s held their hands up in surrender as they were surrounded by the immunity cells at the stomach. 10 minutes ago, the GPD received a distress call saying that germs and bacteria-s have invaded the stomach area and caused quite a disturbance by rupturing the walls of the arrival port, starting an ulcer. Their amount was so many that the security in the stomach was not enough to apprehend them all and backup came in the form of Gregory’s finest from the nearest GPD precinct.
“Alright! Who’s the brains of the outfit here?” one of the cops demanded. When they hesitated, he pressed the mouthpiece of a gun against one of the germs’ forehead. “C’mon! I haven’t got all day! Don’t make me use unnecessary force for this!”
The group immediately made way for Ozzie to appear. Holding the barking Kiaran in his arms and in his gothic-lolita attire with his elongated hair covering half of his face, he gave off a sort of mysteriously quiet aura as he looked at everyone present nonchalantly.
Of course, that was all part of Thrax’s plan.
“Who are you? State your name!” another cop demanded as he pointed his gun at Ozzie.
Ozzie held his tongue, trying as best as he could to look unaffected by the cop’s harsh tone and the gun at his face.
“What are you, deaf or something? I asked you your name!”
“Our Missus don’t talk to nobody!” one of the germs stepped up to shield Ozzie from the gun.
“Mind your own business, scum!” the first cop shoved him away back into the apprehended group. “Not gonna talk, eh? We’ll see if you’ll open your golden mouth of yours behind bars. Take them all away!”
Within minutes, everyone found themselves in the holding cell of GPD. All the germs and bacteria-s in lockdown sat on the floor, letting Ozzie alone to have the bunk bed. The inmate who was sleeping on the top bunk was harshly dragged down and subdued to the floor with them and when he wanted to protest and put up a fight, he was immediately surrounded by creepy tough-looking scum of Greg and beaten into a pulp, being reminded painfully into submission that “their Missus always comes first”.
Soon, they could hear the main door outside open and in came the Chief of Immunity leading the Mayor of Gregory. The Chief reminded Ozzie of a thin, lanky version of his own Chief, and the Mayor looked like someone who should make body-building a career instead.
“She’s all yours now, Mr. Mayor,” the Chief gestured as he let the guard unlock the door to their prison. The Mayor went in front of Ozzie who sat on the bed, stole a look at the bruised and battered inmate and turned back to the cell.
“The name’s Margo. Margo Triceps. I see you made yourself comfy here.”
Ozzie nodded, still not saying a word.
“So are you going to give us a name here? About who you are, what you are doing here, why you are doing this?”
“Ain’t cha heard what we’ve told yer lackeys?” one of the bacteria-s bellowed. “Our Missus don’t talk to nobody!”
The rest of the group hollered, confirming his statement.
“Shut yer traps, you cruddy little…” the Chief’s words were halted by the mayor raising his hand.
“And why is that?”
“She ain’t got no voice, pal,” the bacteria replied. “She ain’t got nothin’ to help her speak.”
“I see,” Mayor Margo rubbed his chin in interest. “So she’s mute. What a shame. Such a beautiful perfect creature to receive an imperfection. It’s almost a crime in itself.”
Ozzie smiled inwardly; to think that Thrax actually succeeded in disguising him as a she-cell and that the mayor actually fell for his getup.
“So how is it that you understand her orders anyway?” the Chief demanded. “She should have at least some form of communication to tell you what to do, if she really is the head honcho as you claim.”
“Her eyes, man,” the bacteria replied. “Her eyes tell everything she needs to say and only we can read ‘em.”
“Really now?” Mayor Margo eyed Ozzie from head to toe, looking into Ozzie’s eyes to try his luck in reading his mind. Ozzie could tell that the mayor was more interested with his body rather than the motive of his crime. Ozzie grimaced, wondering what it was that made everyone so infatuated with him at first glance. He remembered bragging to Leah about being a legend and that ladies lined up to divide with him, but he didn’t think it would actually come true now, and mostly with the ones of the same sex nonetheless. Was he really such a magnet for males? Were the males even gay to begin with?
“What’s your name, smart-ass?” the Chief barked at the bacteria who did so much of the talking just now.
“The name’s Bubba. What’s it to you, copper?”
“We’re gonna need you to be her translator. Think you can be at least decent for a bit while we’re at it?”
The bacteria named Bubba and Ozzie exchanged glances. Everything was going according to plan so far, just as Thrax predicted. Bubba had played his part and spoken his script well. They nodded simultaneously and Bubba turned to the Chief.
“I’ll be good…for now.”
“Good,” the Chief replied. “Watcha think, Mr. Mayor?”
“I think it’s good,” Mayor Margo agreed. “We can let Bubba tag along with her. They will be put under maximum security in the brain centre, of course, until we find out what’s her real motive and we’ll deal with it from there.”
“Right,” the Chief nodded, then made a motion with his thumb. “You! Hear that, Bubba? You’re sprung! Outta here! Go lick your Missus’s boots if you wanna.”
Bubba got up, secretly exchanging glances with the other germs and bacteria-s to get the green light, then held out his hand for Ozzie to hold. Ozzie took it and got up, looking like a princess that needed to be waited hand and foot.
“You gonna give us a name at least?” Mayor Margo asked, his eyes still not yet letting their hold on Ozzie go.
Ozzie just looked sideways at Bubba. Bubba nodded. He knew what to say anyways.
“Ozma. Her name is Ozma Lymphocyte.”
--:--
“Good evening, Ozma. How’re you doing?”Ozzie turned around to see Mayor Margo entering the lush bedroom he was in. Kiaran barked distastefully at him and was hushed by the cell.
Ozzie didn’t start off having a room like this. The first few hours after he and Bubba was sprung out from lockdown, they were led with full immunity escorts all the way to the brain centre. There, with Bubba’s ‘translations’, they were interrogated some in the questioning room of the security department of the brain under the watchful eye of Mayor Margo. Nothing much was said to them, only that ‘Ozma’ was a T4 cell infected by a virus ‘she’ couldn’t remember who because the trauma blocked out that particular memory and ‘she’ became independent ever since, going from city to city to cause as much citywide harm as possible while she was there, but never really killing the city other than letting it destroy itself on its own. When asked why did ‘she’ do it, Bubba just crossed his arms and said that “his Missus felt like it and they don’t ask questions’, and refused to elaborate more on that, convincing everyone that ‘Ozma’ was more dangerous than ‘she’ was letting on.
They were kept in the maximum security prison for a while before Mayor Margo started frequenting the place under the pretense of interrogation. Finally, just as Thrax predicted in their master plan, Mayor Margo decided to separate Ozzie from Bubba in order to force a true motive confession out of him, but in reality, he had kept him in a private bedroom under lock and key just right beside the mayor’s bedroom in his mansion within the brain centre. According to Thrax, if that were to happen, Bubba was to contact Klepta via mini walkie-talkie (courtesy from Klepta who got it at an electronic thrift shop) that was hidden deep within the scales of his skin to avoid detection so that they could get ready for Phase II, and as soon as Mayor Margo was out of sight with Ozzie, he did just that.
“I hope you’ve been feeling at ease here. Sorry I had to separate you from your translator and all, but to be honest, I want to get to know you on my own terms.”
Ozzie gave a disconcerted look, which was probably genuine enough. Mayor Margo may be curt and being a gentleman in handling him, but Ozzie could tell that he was more brawn than brain.
“It’s too bad you can’t talk,” Mayor Margo said as he reached over to stroke Ozzie’s hair. “I’d love to hear your voice. It must be very pretty.”
Ozzie glared at him darkly before slapping his hand away. It wasn’t an act to make himself play the part of a bad guy, although it worked to his advantage. The last thing he wanted was some grubby muscle-clad hand touching him. Mayor Margo put his hand away, unaffected by the sting of the slap.
“It may sound a little cheesy to you, but I think I have fallen for you the first time I saw you in that cell. Can’t blame me, you looked so stunning in that dress and you got such a femme fatale diva look on you, I just couldn’t help myself. Now, I know you’ve just tried to kill Gregory and all, but if you like I can try to convince the guys to go easy on you, then work our way from there. I assure you, I can be a very good…”
Ozzie heard enough. He grabbed a pillow and threw it at Mayor Margo’s face before pointing at the door, telling him in his silent way to leave. He was right in a way; it was cheesy. How could he shamelessly claim that he was in love with him when they’ve only just met for barely 3 days, and when he knew he had just tried to make a hole in Gregory’s digestive system? Has he got some viral fetish or something? What is it with him attracting the wrong kind of attention anyway?
“Come on, Ozma. It’s not so bad,” Mayor Margo came closer, having his arm around his waist and stroking his cheek with his free hand, pushing the yapping puppy out of the cell’s hands. “Think about it: You and I together, running this town. You don’t even have to go around destroying cities because you won’t have the need to. I’m the mayor of this city and even if I don’t succeed in getting reelected, my wealth is enough to cover us for the rest of our lives. We could start slow,” his fingers traced Ozzie’s jaw line, “then work our way in…getting to know each a little better.”
All of a sudden—even though he couldn’t understand it himself—Ozzie felt disgusted being around him. His touches and caresses were almost the same as Thrax but somehow it didn’t feel right. He was disgusted before when others touched him, but this was ten times worse. Somehow, deep down inside him, he’d rather have Thrax’s arms around him than anyone else. He didn’t know why, but he had to get away from him.
Without warning, Ozzie reached out and sucker-punched the mayor. While he was still stunned, he broke out of his hold and ran to the table, grabbing a random book and ramming it as hard as he could across the mayor’s other cheek, bruising him badly and making him fall to the floor. Surprisingly, instead of being pissed off by his outburst, Mayor Margo burst out laughing, his hands nursing his pulverized face.
“Wow!” Mayor Margo exclaimed excitedly. “What a woman! I think I love you even more! You must become my bride!”
Ozzie looked at him weirdly, still arming himself with the book. Is he for real? he thought. Is he a friggin’ adrenaline junkie or something? A masochist, even?
“Look, sweetheart, maybe we shouldn’t rush into thing,” Mayor Margo straightened himself. “Maybe we got a little on the wrong foot. Just sleep on it for a while, and give it a little thought, aye? Who knows? Maybe you might see things my way soon enough, sweetheart.”
Baby, doll, sweetheart…I’m sick of being called like that! Ozzie scowled as he flung the book at Mayor Margo, barely nicking him, as he tried to force him to leave. I got a friggin’ name, you know?!
“See ya soon, sweetheart,” Mayor waved and blew a kiss at him before closing and locking the door behind him, leaving alone, seething with anger and disgust.
Kiaran whined and rubbed against Ozzie’s ankle. Ozzie looked at it for a while, sighed and picked it up, hugging it close to his chest and whispered to it so that no one would hear him talk.
“I’m sorry I got you into this mess. This is really one heck of a mission.”
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