“And you’re saying that he did it right as I left?”
Grape nodded as she, Digredior, Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich sat along in the waiting room of the Babylon Garden’s veterinary service.
“Did he say anything?” Digredior asked.
“H-He said that all he could see was ‘him’…”
“Him?”
“You know, the guy who…”
It had only been a few minutes since the Sandwich family arrived with Peanut. Digredior arrived minutes afterward. However, Dreizhen was nowhere to be seen.
“He requested to stay home.” The eccentric man explained earlier.
“He accidently ate my prize-winning Black Forest cake and got terribly sick. So he’s staying home.”
Grape sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye. “I knew he was depressed and all, but I never thought…” The reminder of his sentence was interrupted by a wave of sobs as Grape knelt to the ground and broke down. Digredior knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder. What was he supposed to do?
Just then, a nurse came in. Grape instantly stood up and ran to the nurse clutching her leg.
“Is-Is Peanut…?” She stuttered, desperately clinging unto the nurses leg.
The nurse looked down on the purple cat and smiled. “You made it just in time.” She said, watching the signs of relief spread on Grape’s face. She then looked and the Sandwiches and Digredior, her smile gone.
“However, he’s in a very critical situation at the moment, so Dr. Kazuma requested that he’d stay for the night.” She looked back down to Grape, her smile returning instantly. “You can visit him if you’d like.”
---
As Grape approached the medical bed, she looked in great sadness at Peanut’s body. In the sunlight, you could perfectly see how matted and worn his fur was, how he was so thin that you could see his ribs, how the fur on arms and torso were discolored from the dry blood. He looked like a horrific mess.
Digredior walked up next to Grape, his eyes tracing over the weakened dog’s body yet again:
NEW DATA ENTRY: Victim has ATTEMPTED SUICIDE! Analyzing data based on new entry:
Possibility of [SUCCESSFUL] suicide based on acquired data – 85%
Current victim mortality status based on acquired data – HIGHLY CRTITCAL!
Victim’s current mentality based on acquired data: Post traumatic stress disorder, along with hallucinations and delusions that the perpetrator is “everywhere”. This drove the victim to attempted suicide.
Recommended course of action: The victim has minimal chances of recovery, so the best option is Euthanasia.
Current course of action – One-hour therapy session a day until noticeable changes are applied. If not, then I will follow the recommended course of action.
---
Digredior sighed before walking over to a nearby chair and sitting in it. He then looked at Grape.
“Wake him.”
Grape blinked.
“I said, wake him.”
Grape stood there, confused.
“I need to talk to him.”
Grape stared at Digredior for a few minutes before lightly poking at Peanut’s shoulder, causing his eyes to snap open. He lifted himself upward to see Grape and Digredior looking at him. He tilted his head. “Wha-“ was all he managed to say before being hugged by what felt like five million arms, but what was really Grape, Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich.
“M-Mom, Dad, Grape…” Peanut sputtered before he began crying. The reminder of the Sandwich clan followed suit.
Digredior coughed, and the group slowly broke apart. Peanut looked at Digredior with full focus, but his eyes were still empty.
“Hello Peanut.” Digredior said to the weakened hound. “I am S. Digredior. I am a licensed animal therapist and psychologist, and I’m here to help you deal with your, “accident.”
Peanut looked out the window. He was now trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, let alone Digredior. Shame and guilt filled his heart.
“What does the ‘S.’ stand for?” He asked quietly.
“My first name.”
Peanut made a faint smile. It was obviously fake, and with no true emotions holding it up, anyone could tell at that moment how broken Peanut truly was.
---
Digredior arrived at his apartment later in the evening. He was scheduled to meet with Peanut at the Sandwich house every day for one hour.
As he walked into the kitchen, Dreizhen sat there, watching him.
“Had fun?”
“Yes.”
“So, what you find out?”
“Peanut tried to kill himself because the trauma caused by the perpetrator caused him to go into a mental breakdown.”
“Are you going to try and fix it?”
“Of course. That’s my ‘job’, remember?”
Digredior opened a manila folder labeled “SANDWICH, PEANUT BUTTER” and sat down to read the contents. Dreizhen got up and looked over Digredior’s shoulder, whistling.
“Oh dear, did the perpetrator really cause that much trouble?”
Digredior tried to ignore his canine companion, but the dog only giggled.
“You do know it’s hopeless, right?”
Digredior looked up to see Dreizehn standing in front of him, a twisted smile appeared on his face. He giggled again.
“Go away.” Digredior said in a monotonous voice before he continued his reading.
Dreizen then ran behind Digredior and put his muzzle to his ear.
“I said it’s hOpElEss.” Dreizeh snarled into Digredior’s ear, his voice suddenly began to sound disordented and twisted.
“You MiGHT aS WeLL GiVe uP. thAt dOg wIll dIE. i’LL MaKe SuRe oF iT!”
Dreizehn maneuver himself back in front of Digredior, who seemed to not notice his dog’s odd behavior or vocal patterns.
He looked up at Dreizehn. “No, he’ll live. Peanut will live to tell another tale. That is what I’m certain of.”
He said with a half-smile. This only made Dreizehn to laugh.
“wEll thEn, I gUEss YOU shOUld gEt stArtEd thEn. BeCauSe aPPaReNTLy i aLReaDy HaVe The HeaDSTaRT…” Dreizehn then skipped off, laughing.
Digredior closed the file and looked at the picture clipped to the front of it.
It was Peanut. Healthy, laughing, without a care in the world. Digredior placed his fingers on the picture and sighed.
“I’m ready to fight you, Dreizehn.” He said quietly to himself. “But is Peanut ready?”
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Chapter 4
Grape moved quietly as she left Peanut’s room. As she closed the door, she turned to the others with a heavy sigh.
“Is he all right?” Fox asked.
Grape looked down to her feet and her ears folded back, her purple body leaning against the door. “Yeah, he’s asleep now.” She slid down to the floor and hugged her knees. “Oh god, what am I going to do? I can’t leave him like this, he’ll BREAK!”
The group stood awkwardly for a few moments before King decided to speak up.
“Um… C-Couldn’t you send him to a counselor or a shrink or something?” He suggested.
Fox looked down at the corgi. “Good idea hon. But I don’t think there is anybody in the area who’s a “pet psychologist”.
Maxwell looked away in confusion, quietly mouthing the word, “hon?”
King suddenly lit up and snapped his fingers, a confident smile formed across his face. “AH! Wait, I think there is somebody we can talk to about Peanut…”
---
A few days later, a visitor arrived in Babylon Gardens. He was a human with long blonde hair and fair skin. He wore a navy blue shirt with a rather large blue bow on it and he wore what seemed to be a lab coat over that, along with a set of black slacks. He also wore a pair of black glasses over his face. One would assume that he was plucked from another time or place and dropped here.
Alongside him was a border collie who wore a purple collar with a rather odd dog tag on it. The tag appeared to be the alchemic symbol for Platinum.
Grape stood outside her house alongside King and Taro, as the two newcomers approached them.
“Are you sure about this guy?” King whispered quietly to Tarot.
Tarot nodded. “Yes, he has magical powers like, but prefers to change worlds instead of running them.”
“Is he stronger than you?”
“Yes, his power greatly surpasses mine. But we are good friends, and his power is limited in worlds like this.”
“Great. And the dog?”
“Most likely a servant created to help in this situation.”
“Wonderful…”
The man approached Tarot and gave her a hug, laughing, before turning to Grape. His crimson eyes seemed powerful, like a raging fire. “Hallo.” He spoke in a slightly British accent. “You are the one with the hurt doggy, correct?”
Grape felt agitated at how insensitive the man sounded, but decided to give him a polite nod. The man shook her paw lightly. “Ah, then well meeting you.”
He said. “I am “S. Digredior”, a licensed pet therapist, and this is my companion, “Dreizehn”, he is a therapy dog.”
Dreizehn gave a polite bow, but Grape couldn’t read anything from his hollow orange eyes.
Digredior pointed to the door with great vigor. “Now, it’s time to get to work! TO THE PATIENT!”
Grape led Digredior and Dreizehn into the house, where the eccentric man gave Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich the same introduction word for word, before sitting down on the family couch.
“So tell me?” Digredior asked. “What happened to the poor doggy?”
Mr. Sandwich sighed before he responded. “Our dog, ‘Peanut’, was raped.”
“Aye, sorry. So how has… ‘Peanut’ been acting ever since?”
Mrs. Sandwich scratched the back of her head. “Well, he been quiet ever since, only speaking when needed to. He’s been losing sleep, he’s lost weight dramatically, almost ten pounds…” He paused to wipe her eyes before continuing. “He’s stopped drawing, he rarely smiles anymore. The list just goes on, and on.”
Digredior scribbled something into a red notepad that “mysteriously” appeared in his hand with a pen that he pulled out of his pocket. “I see.” He said quietly. The man handed the notepad to Dreizehn, who placed it in his collar. “May I see the doggy now?”
Peanut awoke to the sound of the door opening and slowly turned to see a man with long hair approaching him. The dog immediately jumped out of the bed and stood upright, his chest heaving, his eyes widened with shock.
Grape and the Sandwiches suddenly walked into the room and began to console the frightened dog, who merely cowered pathetically in the arms of Mrs. Sandwich. Digredior said nothing simply stood there. He observed Peanut carefully, while taking mental notes of any signs that might prove useful in the future.
---
Matted and filthy fur – Trauma has caused the victim to lose interest in personal hygiene. This might lead to sudden illness or death if not fixed.
Dark bags around eyes – Subject is neglecting sleep, most likely because the traumatic events are still imbedded in the victim’s subconscious. Hence, the victim suffers from nightmares and night terrors. May prove problematic in the future if not treated soon.
Visible ribcage and thin frame – Victim suffers from extreme malnutrition due to trauma. This WILL be fatal unless treated immediately.
Reactive mentality – Victim appeared to be highly alert when he was aware of my presence. Perhaps I remind him of the criminal. I will look into this.
Slight scars on wrists, arms and legs – Possible attempted suicide due to trauma? I will have to investigate, as the victim’s mortality might be compromised.
Possibility of victim suicide based on acquired data – 65%
Current victim mortality status based on acquired data – CRITICAL!
Current course of action – One-hour therapy session twice a week, until I can get a conclusion on victim’s current mentality. I will take the necessary precautions if they are needed, even if advanced medication, institutionalization, and euthanasia are offered.
---
Digredior and Dreizehn politely bowed as they prepared to leave the door. “I will be seeing the doggy two times a week until I can get a conformation on the status his mentality, correct?”
Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich nodded in agreement and shook his hand. “Until next time, Servus.” Digredior said as he walked out the door with Dreizehn following behind.
Grape looked out the upstairs window as the eccentric man and his dog walked into the cul-de-sac and out of Grape’s line of sight. She sighed and walked towards Peanut’s room.
“Hey Peanut, are you still upset?” He wasn’t there. Grape looked around the room before heading to the bathroom that Grape and Peanut shared. The door was closed, and locked.
“Peanut, don’t get scared. That man only wants to help. Don’t feel frightened.”
There was no response other than a sniff.
“Peanut?” Grape called out to her canine friend as she knocked on the door.
“G-Grape?” A quiet sad voice called out from behind the door.
“Yeah, Peanut?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take it anymore. Everywhere I look, I see HIM. I can’t bear it any longer…” The voice spoke, followed by another sniffle.
“Peanut.” Grape said, her stomach suddenly felt uneasy. She eyed at the doorknob.
“What are you saying?"
She heard Mr. Sandwich’s voice from downstairs.
“Honey, have you seen my shaving razor?”
Suddenly a bell seemed to go off in Grape’s head as her paw suddenly reached over and tried to turn the knob, and she instantly knew why. It refused, so Grape began picking at the lock furiously with claws.
“PEANUT, OPEN THIS DOOR, NOW!”
“I’m sorry, Grape…”
“DON’T FUCK WITH ME! OPEN THE DOOR NOW, PEANUT!”
“I love you. Goodbye.”
Grape finally managed to pick the lock and open the door fast enough to watch in horror as Peanut slid the shaving razor quickly over his wrist, which was instantly dyed deep crimson.
“PEANUT!”
“Is he all right?” Fox asked.
Grape looked down to her feet and her ears folded back, her purple body leaning against the door. “Yeah, he’s asleep now.” She slid down to the floor and hugged her knees. “Oh god, what am I going to do? I can’t leave him like this, he’ll BREAK!”
The group stood awkwardly for a few moments before King decided to speak up.
“Um… C-Couldn’t you send him to a counselor or a shrink or something?” He suggested.
Fox looked down at the corgi. “Good idea hon. But I don’t think there is anybody in the area who’s a “pet psychologist”.
Maxwell looked away in confusion, quietly mouthing the word, “hon?”
King suddenly lit up and snapped his fingers, a confident smile formed across his face. “AH! Wait, I think there is somebody we can talk to about Peanut…”
---
A few days later, a visitor arrived in Babylon Gardens. He was a human with long blonde hair and fair skin. He wore a navy blue shirt with a rather large blue bow on it and he wore what seemed to be a lab coat over that, along with a set of black slacks. He also wore a pair of black glasses over his face. One would assume that he was plucked from another time or place and dropped here.
Alongside him was a border collie who wore a purple collar with a rather odd dog tag on it. The tag appeared to be the alchemic symbol for Platinum.
Grape stood outside her house alongside King and Taro, as the two newcomers approached them.
“Are you sure about this guy?” King whispered quietly to Tarot.
Tarot nodded. “Yes, he has magical powers like, but prefers to change worlds instead of running them.”
“Is he stronger than you?”
“Yes, his power greatly surpasses mine. But we are good friends, and his power is limited in worlds like this.”
“Great. And the dog?”
“Most likely a servant created to help in this situation.”
“Wonderful…”
The man approached Tarot and gave her a hug, laughing, before turning to Grape. His crimson eyes seemed powerful, like a raging fire. “Hallo.” He spoke in a slightly British accent. “You are the one with the hurt doggy, correct?”
Grape felt agitated at how insensitive the man sounded, but decided to give him a polite nod. The man shook her paw lightly. “Ah, then well meeting you.”
He said. “I am “S. Digredior”, a licensed pet therapist, and this is my companion, “Dreizehn”, he is a therapy dog.”
Dreizehn gave a polite bow, but Grape couldn’t read anything from his hollow orange eyes.
Digredior pointed to the door with great vigor. “Now, it’s time to get to work! TO THE PATIENT!”
Grape led Digredior and Dreizehn into the house, where the eccentric man gave Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich the same introduction word for word, before sitting down on the family couch.
“So tell me?” Digredior asked. “What happened to the poor doggy?”
Mr. Sandwich sighed before he responded. “Our dog, ‘Peanut’, was raped.”
“Aye, sorry. So how has… ‘Peanut’ been acting ever since?”
Mrs. Sandwich scratched the back of her head. “Well, he been quiet ever since, only speaking when needed to. He’s been losing sleep, he’s lost weight dramatically, almost ten pounds…” He paused to wipe her eyes before continuing. “He’s stopped drawing, he rarely smiles anymore. The list just goes on, and on.”
Digredior scribbled something into a red notepad that “mysteriously” appeared in his hand with a pen that he pulled out of his pocket. “I see.” He said quietly. The man handed the notepad to Dreizehn, who placed it in his collar. “May I see the doggy now?”
Peanut awoke to the sound of the door opening and slowly turned to see a man with long hair approaching him. The dog immediately jumped out of the bed and stood upright, his chest heaving, his eyes widened with shock.
Grape and the Sandwiches suddenly walked into the room and began to console the frightened dog, who merely cowered pathetically in the arms of Mrs. Sandwich. Digredior said nothing simply stood there. He observed Peanut carefully, while taking mental notes of any signs that might prove useful in the future.
---
Matted and filthy fur – Trauma has caused the victim to lose interest in personal hygiene. This might lead to sudden illness or death if not fixed.
Dark bags around eyes – Subject is neglecting sleep, most likely because the traumatic events are still imbedded in the victim’s subconscious. Hence, the victim suffers from nightmares and night terrors. May prove problematic in the future if not treated soon.
Visible ribcage and thin frame – Victim suffers from extreme malnutrition due to trauma. This WILL be fatal unless treated immediately.
Reactive mentality – Victim appeared to be highly alert when he was aware of my presence. Perhaps I remind him of the criminal. I will look into this.
Slight scars on wrists, arms and legs – Possible attempted suicide due to trauma? I will have to investigate, as the victim’s mortality might be compromised.
Possibility of victim suicide based on acquired data – 65%
Current victim mortality status based on acquired data – CRITICAL!
Current course of action – One-hour therapy session twice a week, until I can get a conclusion on victim’s current mentality. I will take the necessary precautions if they are needed, even if advanced medication, institutionalization, and euthanasia are offered.
---
Digredior and Dreizehn politely bowed as they prepared to leave the door. “I will be seeing the doggy two times a week until I can get a conformation on the status his mentality, correct?”
Mr. and Mrs. Sandwich nodded in agreement and shook his hand. “Until next time, Servus.” Digredior said as he walked out the door with Dreizehn following behind.
Grape looked out the upstairs window as the eccentric man and his dog walked into the cul-de-sac and out of Grape’s line of sight. She sighed and walked towards Peanut’s room.
“Hey Peanut, are you still upset?” He wasn’t there. Grape looked around the room before heading to the bathroom that Grape and Peanut shared. The door was closed, and locked.
“Peanut, don’t get scared. That man only wants to help. Don’t feel frightened.”
There was no response other than a sniff.
“Peanut?” Grape called out to her canine friend as she knocked on the door.
“G-Grape?” A quiet sad voice called out from behind the door.
“Yeah, Peanut?”
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take it anymore. Everywhere I look, I see HIM. I can’t bear it any longer…” The voice spoke, followed by another sniffle.
“Peanut.” Grape said, her stomach suddenly felt uneasy. She eyed at the doorknob.
“What are you saying?"
She heard Mr. Sandwich’s voice from downstairs.
“Honey, have you seen my shaving razor?”
Suddenly a bell seemed to go off in Grape’s head as her paw suddenly reached over and tried to turn the knob, and she instantly knew why. It refused, so Grape began picking at the lock furiously with claws.
“PEANUT, OPEN THIS DOOR, NOW!”
“I’m sorry, Grape…”
“DON’T FUCK WITH ME! OPEN THE DOOR NOW, PEANUT!”
“I love you. Goodbye.”
Grape finally managed to pick the lock and open the door fast enough to watch in horror as Peanut slid the shaving razor quickly over his wrist, which was instantly dyed deep crimson.
“PEANUT!”
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