On the day of the fair, Thrax and Ozzie waited patiently at the tip of the mouse’s nose along with Cox and his family, who decided as well that it was about time they moved on to another rat city. Lucky for them, there were a lot of rodents as well as people in the fair, some of them having the huge common black rats as pets. Bidding their farewells to Serione and each other, they waited for the opportune moment to leap off the mouse’s nose and went off their separate ways.
Thrax, with Ozzie holding onto him tight, leapt and glided from one obstacle to another to find the best body they could get into. Ozzie helped him be his tracking eyes as to which one he thought could be the best victim, but ultimately Thrax chose a middle-aged man who was one of the curious visitors in the fair just checking out the event. They landed on the donut he was eating and hid in the icing sugar, bracing themselves as the man took another bite, swallowing them in.
Ozzie learnt that occasionally, Thrax was a sucker for making grand entrances. Just as he did when he came into the private booth during their secret meeting with the immunity force in the city of Nana, he made his shocking appearance when the saliva boat came to do their routine check-up of germ-busting. Holding onto Thrax just right, Ozzie watched as Thrax used his killer claw to blast them out of the gooey dough they were encased in and stood there as Thrax killed off the poor saliva boat cells before navigating the boat down the throat. Once they were almost close to the highway that led to the stomach, they leapt off the boat and flew down the other connecting highway to the liver to lay low for a while, leaving the boat to its unknown fate.
Gregory Metropolis—the city they were in—was an average Joe sort of city, although it looked much better than Frank and Nana combined. It would probably prove a bit of a challenge for Thrax because Gregory was a man who lived life to the fullest with no record of any major health problems. Of course, Gregory had his ups and downs of health when he was younger, but other than that, it did not affect the city in any sort of tidal scale. Officers of Gregory’s finest were pretty competent and the inhabitants of Gregory were basically happy, contented and healthy. Ozzie could tell that to take this city down, they were going to need to approach the correct party.
Again, Ozzie became an accessory to Thrax’s plan. Posing as a male hooker (under the threat of punishment by Thrax, of course), Ozzie was asked to try and look for suitable people to be recruited for his Master’s grand heist. Using his investigative skills and his experience in undercover work, Thrax sent him to certain areas to try and look for interested candidates and the first place he dropped him off was The Mole Blitz, which was a disco pub located just above Gregory’s left armpit.
“I thought you didn’t want me to be touched,” Ozzie complained as they stood in a secluded area a few feet away from the pub.
“Well, in this case, we’ll have to make an exception,” Thrax said as he stroked Ozzie’s face with his non-lit killer claw. “Desperate times calls for desperate measures, baby, and in this kind of city, we’re gonna need all the help we can get.”
“I’m sensing some ground rules you’re gonna give me before I make my move,” Ozzie pouted, folding his arms across his chest.
“Very smart, baby,” Thrax chuckled while undoing the leash he had on Ozzie throughout their entire journey in Gregory. “The only thing I will not allow you to let them do is have their lips on you. They can touch or grope you anywhere they liked except you-know-where, but their lips are off limits on any part of your body, especially your own, period. Got that, baby?”
“Crystal,” Ozzie replied grudgingly. He didn’t like being touched, much less being kissed, by anyone in particular, but unless he wanted to be unable to sit properly or be degraded further than he already was, he thought it wise to just stick with the game plan.
“Now go,” Thrax pecked Ozzie’s forehead and shoved him towards the direction of the pub. “Make me proud, baby. You know which room I’ll be in.”
Taking a deep breath, Ozzie relaxed his shoulders and made his way into the front door of the pub. There was quite a long line waiting outside the pub to get in because of the sheer amount of people inside, but Ozzie marched right up to the security guard there and gave him the most seductive smile he could muster—pretending the other party was Leah—and flashed his bare back a little to him to persuade him to let him in first. After allowing the guard to caress his back (much to his disgust) and promising him that he’ll have ‘a good time’ once his shift was over, the cell was allowed in amidst the protest of those waiting in line.
Once inside, Ozzie scanned through the area and noticed there was a handful of potential germs and bacteria-s seemingly good enough for his Master’s agenda. Keeping himself within their eyeshot, he strutted his stuff and moved to the center of the dance floor. He gave a flirtatious eye contact with the DJ jamming the songs to crank up the beat and leaned his neck from side to side to get rid of the cricks. Once the music switched to a stronger techno beat, Ozzie started moving to it, swaying his hips and arms along with the music. Many people who saw him break the dance floor approached him one by one (sometimes more than one at one time) to dance with him, but only a few of them seemed to be worthy enough to be chosen as part of Thrax’s crew, while others were just the regular people wanting to have a go with him. Thinking back to his high school where he used to moonlight as a dancer in clubs to lure in the cash (and the ladies) and also the times where he had to go undercover involving going to discos and clubs to shake a tail-cell or two, he danced along with anyone who came along, gesturing those he thought were good to wait for him outside the private room in the pub Thrax had booked and designated him to bring, while getting lost in his little world of pounding tempo and blasting sound waves. Occasionally he stole a glance at the other germs and bacteria-s who chose to look from afar, giving them the same eye contact he gave the DJ that they were welcomed to approach him anytime. Their grins and smirks told Ozzie that they have gotten the message.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Baby, you’re lookin’ mighty fine.”
A deep, husky voice made Ozzie turned to look in front of him. The voice belonged to a male that stood equivalently as tall as Thrax, with dirty blonde locks that ran all the way past his butt and greenish-black skin. He had the most haunting red eyes Ozzie had ever seen, with black pupils like a snake’s, and when he smiled, he had teeth exactly like Thrax’s. He was wearing a dark blue vest and a pair of three-quarter pants and cellular leather boots, and had mini neon lights hanging out of the loops of his pants where the belt was supposed to be. As he ran his claws through Ozzie’s hair, the cell could tell this person was more than a germ or a bacteria.
“Funny, I didn’t think there’d be viruses in this joint,” Ozzie said as he continued to dance around the male, swaying his hips to the beat.
“Oh, I’ve been laying low for quite some time, baby,” the virus replied, sounding almost exactly his Master. He wrapped one hand around Ozzie’s waist and smirked, “You, on the other hand, are new in town, ain’t cha? Care to join me for a drink?”
“If you don’t mind the extra company,” Ozzie replied, pointing at the germs and bacteria-s that were starting to get off their seats and moving towards them, “and also if you don’t mind a bit of a score my Master is offering.”
“I see,” the virus raised a brow in interest. “So you’re serving under a pimp now. Kinky. My kind of baby.”
“Shall we?” Ozzie said as he turned towards the group of germs and bacteria-s, who in turn followed his lead to the private room where Thrax was waiting.
--:--
“Klepta?”
Thrax and the said Klepta stood in front of each other in surprise as Ozzie led the group into the private room. If he didn’t have his blonde hair and greenish-black skin, he and Thrax would’ve looked like twins.
“What the heck are you doing here?” Thrax demanded, clearly offended at the younger virus’ presence.
“What the heck are you doing here? This is my joint!” Klepta growled back.
“Um…You guys know each other?” Ozzie asked awkwardly, even though he knew it was a dumb question.
“Baby, you didn’t tell me your pimp was my half-brother,” Klepta said as he put an arm around Ozzie’s shoulder. Thrax snarled and pushed Klepta away, holding the surprised Ozzie possessively.
“Keep your hands away from my pet, you ass! And no one calls him ‘Baby’ but me!”
“I don’t see your name written on this doll! ‘Sides, he came on to me himself!”
“He came on to you because he didn’t know any better! I told him to gather recruits, and got you as the runt of the litter!”
“You’re still the sulky, whiny half-elder brother I always knew,” Klepta sneered. “Now who’s the runt of the litter?”
“Is that a challenge?” Thrax growled and flexed out his killer claw, prompting Klepta to arm himself with both his claws glowing in some sort of sickly green plasma-like flare.
“Bring it on, wimp!”
“Guys! Guys, stop!” Ozzie quickly stood between the brothers before they started an all-out war. “Master, the recruits are all here waiting for your big plan. Shouldn’t you start briefing them?”
“Wait, you’re gonna steal my joint now?” Klepta asked bewilderedly. “I was here first! This is my city to blow, not yours! Why do you always have to take what’s rightfully mine?!”
“Well, it’s your fault for taking your sweet time! Finders, keepers, baby…”
“Master, please,” Ozzie begged, embracing Thrax to stop him from squabbling any longer. “I promised them you’ll show up. Please…”
Thrax glared long and hard at Klepta before retracting his killer claw and ran his fingers through his dreadlocks, composing himself. After allowing Ozzie to adjust his collar and shirt, he turned to the direction of the germs and bacteria-s all seated there waiting for something to happen, but not before having the final word.
“You’re lucky I got a pet that had the bleeding hearts of the world united in him. I’ll call you when I need you, Jones. Make sure you keep that runt outta my way while I talk business with the boys.”
“Yes, Master,” Ozzie nodded obligingly.
“Who you’re calling…” Klepta’s yell was cut short when he saw Thrax was clearly shutting him out. With a huff, he stomped out of the private room and sat at a drinking booth just right outside the corridor. Ozzie, after taking a second glance to make sure Thrax didn’t need him just yet, walked out and joined him.
“Hey, uh…Sorry about that…I didn’t know…”
“Ain’t your fault, doll,” Klepta grumbled as he took two glasses of glowing drinks from the passing-by waiter and offered one to Ozzie. “You don’t have to apologize for my half-brother. He’s an ass. Always has been, always will be. Standing up for him would be a waste of your time.”
“How did you get into this body anyway?” Ozzie asked. “Last time we checked, Gregory was in tip-top shape.”
“Well, doll, conveniently for me, he probably had forgotten about being nipped by the neighbour’s puppy a few months back. It may have grazed his finger a little, but it was enough for me to hop in. I was planning to take him down, since ol’ Greg didn’t think that rabies shot was necessary, when your Master showed up.”
“You said Thrax is your half-brother. How did that go about?”
Klepta drained the drink in one gulp before continuing, the drink leaving a dim glow on his tongue, “We are half-siblings on the mother’s side. Our father was a bigamist and enjoyed having many wives under his wing to spread the bloodline, but Thrax’s mother is basically like the matriarch of the sisterhood. My mother is from the Rabies family while our 5 other mothers are from the Salmonella, TB, German Measles, Yellow Fever and Ebola family.”
“Wow, that’s…a really big family,” Ozzie widened his eyes in shock, imagining the Black Death having so many she-viruses tailing along behind him with spawns of their own.
“Thrax had always been the spoilt brat of the family, always whining and griping and wanting everything for himself. Of all the siblings, he hated the ones from our Ebola mother with a passion because he was jealous of their killing abilities and that the mother always bragged about the glorious good ol’ days when her family struck fear in everyone as one of the deadliest, most grotesque diseases next to AIDS. If anyone had inspired him to be such a glory-hog and always wanting to prove his worth, forcing him to finally stand up on his own two feet, it’ll probably be her.”
Guess that’s where his obsession and determination to break records and getting into medical books came from, Ozzie sipped his drink quietly, which was bitter-sweet to the taste with a tinge of alcohol, finally understanding a little about the source of his Master’s overzealousness.
“Dang, doll, look at me! I’m talking to you as if I’ve known you forever!” Klepta laughed at himself. “You must have some sort of power over me to loosen my tongue like this.”
“Maybe I just got one of those faces,” Ozzie said, then thought, Or maybe you’re just friggin’ drunk!
“So what’s your story, doll? I can see that you ain’t from around this body.”
“Yeah, well, it’s kinda sorta long story,” Ozzie scratched his chin and looked away, “but the gist of it is that he destroyed my city, kidnapped me and made me a partially infected cell,” he gestured at his dimly glowing body, “and forced me to be his slave, always making me do all sorts of perverted things while doing it to me as well.”
“I think you look stunning as a partially infected cell. But it does strike me as odd,” Klepta tapped his chin wonderingly. “The little wimp had always been a loner even amongst us. He’s not known to be attached to anyone or anything. I’m actually surprised you had it easy with him.”
Ozzie rolled his eyes at the last remark. Nothing was ‘easy’ when it was Thrax they were talking about. But some of Klepta’s words sort of rang true. Throughout his days with Thrax, he had watched the virus kill without mercy and left many for dead, even gave the death penalty to those who defied him, but Ozzie had always been kept alive till now. Thrax had threatened death many times over with his killer claw at him, but never once did he felt the wrath of, as Thrax put it, ‘heating up like a sidewalk on a summer day’. Spanked, yes. Slapped, yes. Scolded, yes. Forced to do and endure perverted punishments, yes. Actual death, never. Ozzie was lost in his thought trying to make sense of it all.
“Do you hate being with him?”
“I’m sorry, what?” Ozzie looked up at Klepta, his muse broken.
“Do you like the things he’s done to you so far?” Klepta asked, taking another round of drinks for them.
“O…Of course not!” Ozzie protested. “You have no idea what dirty things he made me do against my will, and what he does to me whenever I disobeyed him or whenever he couldn’t keep his hormones in his pants!”
“So I asked: Do you hate being with him?”
“Well, I…I dunno…I mean, I guess I…” Ozzie somehow suddenly found himself unable to answer the question. It was simple enough. He didn’t like what Thrax did to him, right? He was taken against his will to become his slave and killed Frank and everyone he loved in him. He was spanked black and blue whenever he misbehaved, and made to do very degrading things. He was happy enough to be able to at least eat and breathe without having to ask permission. He was a murderer, a sadist and everything evil in between. He should have the right to be angry with him, right? Then the answer should obvious enough for this question. Why couldn’t he bring himself to say it? Why won’t the simplest answer to the easiest question in the whole wide world spill out of his mouth?
Klepta grinned, seemingly knowing the mystery behind Ozzie’s hesitation, and said, “Well, since I’ve spouted so much of our skeletons in the family closet, lemme tell you something about Thrax. Something he would never, ever admit, even to himself. The real reason why he is so hell-bent on making it big in the medical books.”
If Ozzie had dog ears, it would’ve perked up eagerly to hear what Klepta had to say.
“When he was 21 and was getting the hang of his powers, he stepped into his first city and unexpectedly fell for a she-cell who worked under the Scab Unit. She was quite charismatic and headstrong, and despite himself, ol’ wimp there got himself falling heads over heels for her. He planned to stay in the city and give up his nature, and had been wooing her in his own so-called gentleman ways.
“The she-cell knew their love was forbidden, but she accepted his advances anyway. But an immunity he-cell who had a crush on her found out about their illicit relationship and was adamant to get rid of Thrax to have her for his own. That he-cell snuck into the she-cell’s home and killed her family in cold blood, imitating Thrax’s signature MO and thus put the blame on the poor wimp. The she-cell was so upset that she committed suicide by confronting Thrax and forced his killer claw into her, boiling her alive, telling him before she died that she would never forgive him even in death and he would regret betraying her for the rest of his miserable life. Sometimes I wonder who was the real bad guy here, Thrax or the cell who swore an oath in immunity to protect the city for all its worth.
“After finding the he-cell and killing him, trashing the city in the process, Thrax was never the same again. His loner personality got worse, and he became much more malicious and vicious than he already was, with his ego and jazz-loving attitude as a cover-up for a deadly killer within. He killed, pillaged and burned because the fire and the heat he caused was probably the only consolation he could get from his pained past, the only comfort he could get from the scorch knowing that the she-cell is part of it, consumed and living forever within it, to feel her presence within those flames…Probably also the only way he could create a tribute to the only she-cell he had ever loved so deeply through the recognition in the medical books…”
“H…How do you know all this?” Ozzie asked in surprise and wonder as he looked at Klepta’s faraway gaze.
“I may hate his guts and all, but he’s still the closest to a real brother he had ever been with me compared to the rest of our siblings. I was there, doll. His mother made me go along with him to…learn the ropes from him, as she put it, and I was there when everything happened. I watched as Thrax swoon over her endlessly, even though he furiously denied it in front of me, and I watched as the she-cell melted away in Thrax’s arms when she committed suicide through his means. We went our separate ways after that, only bumping into each other once in a blue moon, getting at each other’s throats in the process. Didn’t think we’d meet again.”
“Oh, well, I guess it’s thanks to me,” Ozzie looked down, barely realizing he had already finished his drink.
“There I go again. Spouting to you all our family secret’s, even telling you Thrax’s deep, dark ones that he’d rather keep it within him, locked, the key thrown away and forgotten. What are you doing to me, doll?”
Nothing you did to yourself, Ozzie thought as he smiled sheepishly on the outside.
“Listen, doll,” Klepta said as he took Ozzie’s chin. “Don’t tell Thrax that I told you all this, and if you feel that your true answer about your feelings towards Thrax is hate, feel free to find me. Since he’s here, there’s no point for me to take down this city. It’s his turf now. I’ll hang around and watch his handiwork before I leave, just for the sake of seeing if he was really worth being mentioned in the medical books, but if you like, I can hitch you a ride where you can pick a body and live the rest of your life normally.”
Ozzie held his breath in shock. Him leaving Thrax for good and leave this hellish life to live a normal one in a new city? Maybe wanting a normal life was asking too much, given his partially infected condition, but still, to no longer be subjected to the perverse things Thrax made him do? Could he actually help him do that? What about Thrax? What would become of him? Could this Klepta guy even be trusted?
“No need to wrack your brains over it, doll,” Klepta laughed at Ozzie’s facial expression. “Take your time. Thrax ain’t gonna leave so soon, not till he’s done with this gig. Just tell me when you’re ready.”
“W…Why…? Why are you…treating me so nice…?” Ozzie asked skeptically.
“Coz you’re such a fine thing, doll, that’s why. I can see why Thrax is so possessive over you now,” Klepta replied huskily before taking another long look at the cell. His red eyes widened a little when he noticed something, “Heck, now that I look at you, doll, you look just like her, only you’re a guy.”
“Like who?”
“Trisha. The she-cell I was talking about. The Trisha whom Thrax was so crazy about.”
“W-Wha…?”
“Jones. Get in here, baby.”
Ozzie turned to see Thrax’s authoritative look as he held the door open for the cell to enter. Quickly, Ozzie got off his seat and went in. Thrax gave a last venomous glare at Klepta before shutting the door, then proceeded to put Ozzie in display and giving them the usual false promises of coming along with him for the ride to conquer other cities.
As Ozzie quietly allowed Thrax to treat him like a prized trophy, he couldn’t help feeling a sort of revelation behind Thrax’s demeanour, and also Klepta’s deal.
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