Dogs Have 9 Lives (Chapter 1)
Summary:
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https://docs.google.com/document/d/16yhyul1cVOPMJsqcoAO0BHyZtPoSNyhsjundKGt2RWs/edit
Aubrey crashed to the floor, her legs immediately buckling under her like a limp ragdoll. She was still breathing, but unconscious, and very likely concussed. There were three dogs shouting her name and scrambling to the door to get her out of the Imagination Station. They were afraid she was dead. Mr. Whittaker, an elderly foxhound with a mud brown coat fumbled his way in, dragged her out of the machine, and gently laid her on the ground. He rolled her over on her side while Eugene, a greyhound, grabbed a chair and propped her hindquarters up on it, hoping to get the blood flowing to her brain.
A blip of electricity surged through Dr. Blackgaard’s body. Then another. Then another. His circuits were powering up, slowly at first, but they soon stopped lagging and he was able to comprehend his surroundings. He immediately sensed another presence with him. He knew it was Aubrey, he could feel through every neuron of her brain, he knew her species, her personality, her consciousness. This was definitely her, and she was still alive…at least, physically. It took him a while to learn how to control his muscles, but he eventually gained the strength to open his eyes.
The brightness of the room stung in his vision, but was soon interrupted by voices that stung his ears.
“Aubrey!”
“Her appearance seems to have changed, Mr. Whittaker.”
“You’re right, Eugene…”
“She’s waking up, she’s waking up! Aubrey, can you hear me?!”
Blackgaard opened his eyes and clumsily stretched his neck to look at them. His vision was extremely fuzzy, but his other senses were kicking in, and he could just barely smell the others in the room. The three dogs came into focus, Whittaker, a foxhound, Eugene, a greyhound, and Connie, a smooth collie. He remembered them alright. They hadn’t changed a bit since he’d last seen them. A small surge of excitement ran through him, and his tail gave low, quiet thumps on the ground. He did it. He actually did it. He was alive again. The synthesis procedure worked wonderfully.
“Aubrey, Aubrey, are you ok??” It was Whittaker. “It’s Whit, Aubrey.”
Balckgaard blinked as his circuits fully revved themselves up and sent a bolt of energy through him. He felt himself gain full control and confidence over his body.
“I know who you are,” He said, without missing a beat, recoiling a bit at how light his voice sounded. He flipped over to his front and tucked his paws up under him, taking a few quick moments to look at them. They looked almost exactly like how they used to. Was he in his original body? No, that couldn’t be, they were referring to him as Aubrey. He took a look at his back and hindquarters. His pelt was a bright banana yellow decorated with orange stripes. This didn’t even look like the body of the small Maine Coon he had imprinted on just minutes earlier. It looked more like some sort of hybrid between the two of them. The body was female, albeit hypermasculine, but that didn’t bother him too much at this moment. It certainly makes sense as to why his voice was so different.
“Aubrey, we’re getting you help, ok?” The foxhound said, a worried tone in his voice and a worried look on his face. Blackgaard rolled his eyes.
“I don’t need your help. I’m fine.” He tried to get himself up, but he struggled to his paws like a newborn deer standing up for the first time. His stomach turned hard as he stood, but he managed to keep his footing. It slowly became easier, his programming was working beautifully.
“The ambulance is almost here, Whit,” Connie exclaimed.
“Good, make sure to call her parents as soon as she’s off to the hospital,” Whit commanded to the hyper, yellow dog.
Blackgaard’s ears perked up.
“Ambulance? HOSPITAL? You’re not taking me to a hospital.”
“Aubrey, you need medical attention. You’ve been passed out for 10 minutes and you can’t walk.”
“I can walk just fine, Whittaker,” Blackgaard spat as he went to take a step, his front paws immediately buckling under him again. He dug his claws in the carpet to steady himself.
Is Aubrey ever going to wake up? Oh well, it doesn’t matter, Blackgaard thought to himself.
All of their ears perked up as they heard a knock at the door. The EMT’s. Blackgaard raised his hackles and the adrenaline rushed to his legs, steadying him. Two EMT’s trotted into Whit’s End, and Mr. Whittaker went to meet them and direct them to their location. As they walked in, Blackgaard had a snarl on his face, his tail waving high.
“I’m not going.”
“You’ve been in an accident, Aubrey, you need to get help,” Connie calmly stated.
“Yes, it would be wise if you were to seek medical attention. A number of things could be wrong, some may be life threatening,” Eugene chimed in.
“I have the right to refuse medical treatment, leave me alone.”
Blackgaard knew that if Aubrey woke up, she’d be severely concussed, but likely fine after a few weeks. Plus, there was a serious chance of his circuits getting detected and removed, and this was absolutely not an option. Not that it would matter, as his circuits were so widespread that it wouldn’t be possible without a lobotomy, which would probably end up killing the body anyway. It was not a chance he was willing to take.
Whittaker was rushing back with the paramedics, and Blackgaard knew that it was now or never.
“She’s back here,” Whittaker said with a hurried tone in his voice. He led two Siberian Huskies into the room, one of which was pushing a stretcher in front of him.
One of the Huskies spoke up. “What’s going on, Ma’am?”
“Oh, I’m fine, thank you.”
“Aubrey!” Connie scolded, her paw on the landline’s microphone, muffling the background noise. She turned her attention back to the phone. “She’s refusing to get into the ambulance!” Connie half shrieked.
“What?! Are you serious? Whit!”
The hound sighed. “What is it Connie?”
“I’m talking to Aubrey’s parents, they don’t want us to take her to the hospital.”
“Let me talk to them, Connie. Just move over and stay calm.”
Connie huffed and walked away, turning her attention towards the small catlike animal in the center of the room while Whittaker spoke to her parents. The EMT’s were standing in front of them, awkwardly, unsure about what to do.
“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd?”
“Yes, this is John Avery Whittaker.”
“Mhm, yes there’s been an accident in the Imagination Station.”
“She was out for a few minutes, but she’s fine now. Walking, talking normally.”
“It’s hard to explain over the phone, can we arrange a meeting?”
“Great.”
“No, she’s adamant that she’s fine, she is trying to refuse medical treatment.”
“Are you sure?”
“Ok, I’ll let her know, thank you. We’ll be there soon. Also, don’t be alarmed when you see her. She looks a little bit…canine. I’ll explain later.”
Whittaker trotted back to the group. “Alright, let’s take her home. Her parents said that they’ll monitor her over the next few days and see if a trip to the hospital is warranted. If she doesn’t have any more symptoms then they’re not gonna take her to the doctor for nothing.”
Blackgaard chuckled quietly.
Whit turned to Eugene. “I want you to come with me, Eugene. We’re going to have to explain to her family what’s happened. Do you have the means of pulling up the news clips and articles related to the Blackgaard Scandal?”
Blackgaard’s ears perked up as he heard his name. Connie glanced over at him, a suspicious squint crossing her face. She slowly leaned in and tried to discreetly sniff his cheek. He, however, caught this, and his ears and tail instantly shot up, and he gave her a very low warning growl, but it didn’t come across as nearly as threatening as he would’ve liked, as his deep canine voice had transformed into more of a catlike yowl.
Connie gave her own quiet, authoritative growl in return before speaking to him in a whisper.
“You’re Dr. Blackgaard. I should’ve known. I’d recognize the stench of you anywhere!”
“What was that, Connie?” Mr. Whittaker turned his attention from the paramedics who were packing up and preparing to leave, annoyed looks on their faces from the wasted trip.
“You can’t keep your muzzle shut, can you, Miss Kendall?” Blackgaard said with a smile. Connie growled at him. “Where’s Aubrey?”
“Hold on, you two.” Mr. Whittaker intervened. “Dr Blackgaard? It’s you?”
“Oh Yes.! If you can’t tell, my program is working wonderfully.”
“What about Aubrey?”
“Don’t worry, my friend, she’s here. She’s just not speaking right now.”
“Can’t you bring her out?” Whittaker asked, tilting his head slightly to the side.
“Yeah, Blackgaard, if she’s really in there, bring her out!” Connie yelled.
“Awww, I wish I could, but it seems that she’s still unconscious from the synthesis procedure.”
“What?!” Connie yelled. “And you turned down medical attention?!”
“She’s perfectly safe, Miss Kendall, I can assure you.”
Eugene’s ears pricked up. “And how are you certain, Dr. Blackgaard?”
“I can feel it. She’ll be alright. She likely has some…minor injuries, but everything will resolve itself in time.” In actuality, Blackgaard had no idea if Aubrey would ever wake up. It didn’t matter to him, anyway.
Eugene stepped closer. “This is what I was mentioning earlier, Mr. Whittaker. It seems as though when the Blackgaard Virus imprinted itself on Aubrey’s brain, it gave some sort of command that fundamentally altered her DNA, altering her physical appearance to resemble both Aubrey and Dr. Blackgaard. It’s also my hypothesis that Blackgaard had not merely imprinted his personality onto her, but his entire being. He seems to be some kind of alter… like you would see in a patient with Dissociative Identity Disorder.”
Both Whit and Connie stared at him in confusion, while Blackgaard gave a slight nod of approval. Whit sighed.
“Simple words, Eugene?”
“I believe that whatever happened during the synthesis process has resulted in the consciousnesses of both Aubrey and Dr. Blackgaard to be in the same body, as well as alter the body physically. In essence, the person standing in front of us is simultaneously Aubrey and Blackgaard!”
Blackgaard chuckled.
Connie’s hackles stood on end as she faced Blackgaard. “You knew it would do all that?!”
“I had an idea. Why do you think that I mentioned it was my chance to live again?” He responded with a smirk. Connie growled menacingly at him.
“Alright, I hate to break it to you, but we’ve somehow got to get Aubr- er, Dr. Blackg- uh, them home,” Mr. Whittaker interrupted, confused, not sure how exactly to address the being in front of him.
Connie was done being nice. “Just drop him off in the woods.”
“Connie, come with me.” He led her to the doorway of the room, out of earshot, knowing that he wasn’t going to fool anyone. Blackgaard’s ears were particularly sensitive, which added to his hybrid-body theory, as cats have considerably better hearing than dogs.
“Connie,” Whit started. “I know that this is a bad situation, but you have to remember that Aubrey is in there somewhere. And we care for Aubrey just as much as we hate Blackgaard, if not more. Plus, the Shepards basically lost their daughter.”
Connie’s tail drooped. “What do you want us to do?”
“I want you to drive him back to the Timothy Center. Eugene and I will follow in another car.”
“ME?! But… I can’t drive him! What if he tries to do something?” Her tail instantly shot back up.
“Because if Eugene’s theory is correct, Aubrey could still very well be in that body. And if she wakes up, she’ll want to see a familiar face. She trusts you more than any of us, Connie, and I think you’d be able to calm her down if something were to happen. Plus, she wouldn’t understand a word that Eugene would say, and I want to hear more about his theory on the Blackgaard Virus’s effects on Aubrey.”
“But Whit… what if something happens? What if Blackgaard sabotages the car and tries to flip us over or something?”
“Eugene and I will follow behind you. If anything happens we’ll be the first to see it and assist you. I have the emergency line on speed dial, if that makes you feel any better.”
Connie just sighed and started towards the door.
“Alright,” Whit said to Eugene. “Come with me, and make sure to bring the laptop and all the documents from the past 14 years you can. We’re gonna follow Connie back to the Timothy Center and have a chat with the Shepards.”
Connie was already near the front door of Whit’s End, yelling back in a frustrated, sly tone, “Hurry up, Blackgaard.” He trotted in her direction, taking notice of how light he felt on his feet. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself, this cat body better not disappoint.
He trotted out to Connie’s car, with Whit and Eugene soon following behind. He jumped into the back seat, the ache and fatigue starting to take over him. He laid down and rested his head in between his paws as Connie adjusted her mirrors, glaring at him in the process. As the car started to roll, he decided to shut his circuits down for a while. He could feel Aubrey starting to stir, and he wanted to stay hidden if she woke up. He looked out the window for a while before resting his head back down between his front paws and sighing. He had done it.
The pain swallowed Aubrey from the inside out. It hurt to move, it hurt to think, it hurt to be alive. It felt like her head had been run over by a steam roller. She had the worst headache imaginable. She didn’t want to open her eyes, even though it was completely dark all around her, it was still too bright for her head. As she came to, she realized she was moving. What was going on? She slowly opened her eyes to find herself in the back of a car. The passing street lights burned holes into her retinas, distorting her already blurry vision. She blinked a couple of times before sitting up and taking in her surroundings.
Where was she? Why was she in a car? Where was she going? Was she being kidnapped? She turned her attention to the driver’s seat. Connie was driving.
“Connie..?” She asked shyly.
“What?!” The collie answered coldly.
“Connie, what’s going on? Where are we going?”
Connie let out a frustrated growl.
“Connie, I’m being serious, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”
Aubrey suddenly sat up, the adrenaline pouring through her. That’s when she noticed her paws, and let out a sharp yell that got Connie’s attention.
“Connie! Connie, What’s going on?” She began to hyperventilate, and sat up even straighter, hitting her head on the top of the car, worrying her further. Connie whipped her head back to find Blackgaard behind her with an extremely worried look on his face. She did a double take. His fur seemed extremely pale, and she would’ve sworn that his fur was a dusky black when he came out of the Imagination Station. Something looked different behind his eyes. His eyes were a pale, baby blue, with slit pupils that were dilating from the anxiety. This countenance seemed so familiar, and so different from the one that had jumped in the car with her.
It struck her. “…Aubrey? Aubrey, is that you?”
The doglike cat cocked her head. “Yes?”
“Is that really you?”
“Connie, what are you talking about, of course it is! What’s happening to me?!”
Connie turned her attention back on the road in front of her, trying to hide the tears rolling down her cheek fur. “We’re taking you back home, ok? Everything is gonna be alright.”
Aubrey started to cry herself, half from confused panic, and half from the absolute migraine she was experiencing. “Connie, what’s happening to me? My head hurts so bad! Am I dying?”
Connie winced at Aubrey’s last sentence. “No Aubrey, you’re not dying. Just hang tight, we’re almost at the Timothy Center.” She rustled around in her purse before pulling out a small bottle. She held it out to Aubrey. It was acetaminophen. Hallelujah.
The car rolled to a stop at its destination. Connie almost immediately jumped out of the car as she turned it off, running to the back seat and throwing open the door.
“Aubrey, are you ok..?” She exclaimed, grabbing her paws and helping her climb out of the car. Aubrey grabbed the bottle of acetaminophen as she got out. Both of them had streams of tears rolling down their faces, Connie most noticeably, but Aubrey started to tear up again. Connie didn’t say anything, but just hugged her for a long time, only pulling back to lick the tears off her face. This empathetic gesture wasn’t understood well among most cats, especially when it came from dogs, but something about it seemed so familiar.
The other car came to a screeching halt behind them. The two dogs jumped out and ran towards them.
“Connie, is everything ok.?” Mr. Whittaker said, a frantic tone in his voice.
“Yeah, Aubrey woke up,” Connie said in a happy tone, tears still streaming down her face. Whittaker trotted up to her.
“Aubrey, is that you?”
“Of course,” she answered. “Why? What’s going on.?”
Mr. Whittaker tilted his head. Did she not know what happened to her?
“You just look different. Do you remember anything.?”
“From when?”
“From tonight.”
Aubrey thought hard, the end of her tail twitching.
“I remember that Connie and I were in the Imagination Station, and ummm, Oh! We saw this German Shepherd, Dr. Blackgaard. I went into the Imagination Station with him, and he tried to coax me into letting him imprint his circuits on my brain or something. I don’t remember exactly. I just blacked out and woke up in Connie’s car. It all felt like a weird dream.”
Connie started to cry again. Aubrey looked at all of the three dogs, extremely confused.
“My head’s killing me, can I just go inside now.?” She asked. “Why are you all so upset?”
Mr. Whittaker put a paw on her shoulder and looked her in the eyes.
“Aubrey, there was an accident in the Imagination Station. You see, there was a virus that Blackgaard had created before he died-”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“Well, the virus imprinted itself on your brain. Blackgaard imprinted himself on your brain.”
Aubrey’s eyes got wide. “That doesn’t make any sense! I don’t sense him anywhere… I’m still me. I mean, I feel a little tall, but I don’t really feel like a different person.”
Eugene used this opportunity as a chance to speak. “Actually Aubrey, we believe that the virus has altered your DNA, leading to many physical, and likely behavioral, changes.”
“What?” Aubrey said, half confused and half shocked.
“The Blackgaard virus has changed your appearance, Aubrey. We also spoke to you earlier, and you claimed to be Dr. Blackgaard.” Whit remarked.
“I-I don’t believe you…” Aubrey started. “It can’t be possible!”
Connie put her paw around her shoulders and started guiding her to her house. “We’re gonna talk to your family, ok? Then we’ll decide what to do. Don’t worry Aubrey, we’ll figure it out. Everything will be alright.”
Aubrey just sighed. Mr. Whittaker went up to her house and knocked on the door. Aubrey’s mother, Ellen, opened the door almost immediately. Her eyes were wide and her pupils dilated. Her ears were pinned against her head in worry. She quickly stepped aside and ushered everyone in. She was scanning for her daughter, but her fur stood on end when a large, cat/dog hybrid looking animal walked in, as opposed to the small, fluffy, ginger cat that left.
“..Aubrey…?” Her mom whispered, sniffing her face and softly touching her with her whiskers. She grabbed Aubrey in a big bear hug, also pulling back to groom her. Her rough tongue irritated Aubrey’s already pounding head.
“Mom, c’mon, let me go” Aubrey said as she pulled away from her mother, and opened the bottle of acetaminophen that Connie had given her earlier, popping a couple of pills. She was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to be left alone. She was so irritated and scared with everyone making a fuss over her, and she just wanted some peace and quiet.
“I’m going to bed. Night guys,” she said half heartedly as she headed up the stairs to her room. She didn’t want to deal with anything anymore.
Down in the kitchen, her parents looked so defeated, but turned their attention to the three dogs as Mr. Whittaker started on his “there’s something we need to talk about” speech.
Aubrey heard the chairs moving as she climbed into bed, and she swirled her ears until the sound was clear enough. However, she was almost too exhausted to pay attention. She heard Mr. Whittaker mention something about a scandal that took place over the recent decades, but she was already slipping into sleep.
She was almost certain however, that before she fell asleep, she heard a very faint whisper.
“Goodnight, Aubrey..”
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