In Search of Home

Chapter 34

Vok'Rul talked harshly outside of the office. Viktor could hear his steady footsteps, followed by the long drag of his tail, as he paced around the room. He was talking to someone, but there was no one answering him. Either the alien had gone crazy, or he was talking on the phone. 

His thoughts were slow and sluggish, but he wondered what an alien phone would even sound like. Did they have texting, ringtones, and emojis? Alien emojis were something that he could get behind. 

He barely even noticed Vok'Rul crouching in front of him until something brushed against his leg. He jumped a little, startled at his lack of awareness. He glanced up. Vok'Rul had his phone in his hand. What was surprising, however, was that the other person on the call was hovering above the phone. It reminded Viktor of Star Wars. 

Distracted by the phone, Viktor forced himself to see what touched his leg. It was Vok'Rul's claws, lightly brushing against his shin. Viktor squeezed himself back into the closet some more, which wasn't too hard considering its size, and flinched as the movement sharply drew Vok'Rul's attention. The alien whispered something, tone reassuring, but Viktor merely squinted at him.

"Stop," he muttered, voice barely audible to his own ears. Vok'Rul withdrew his claws and looked at him worriedly. Viktor dropped his gaze back to his knees. What did it matter, anyhow?

He slowly became aware of his body aching. It was like his speaking brought him back to himself. Bruises probably littered his body from his tumble down the stairs. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, so he shut them. He felt sick to his stomach.

Vok'Rul went back to murmuring incessantly at whoever was on the 3D hologram, and Viktor just wished that he would get out of the closet and talk somewhere else.

The alien stood to his full height and started pacing around the room. His voice was getting louder and louder, sharp with worry. Viktor let out an annoyed sound, wordlessly trying to tell him to shut the fuck up. It didn't really work, and now Vok'Rul was back in the closet doorway, trying to get him to look up. Ugh.

He went away, mercifully. He even left the room. Viktor was left with peace and quiet.

At least, until Vok'Rul came back in, wheeling the carrier that Viktor had come in with him.

His throat closed, and he felt like he could barely breathe. His back was pressed against the wall of the closet before he could even blink. Vok'Rul looked distraught at his reaction, glancing between him and the carrier. He stepped toward the closet, and Viktor let out a whine that he would deny making until the day he died. 

The alien didn't seem to care about his wordless protests, though his face tightened in dismay. He crowded into the closet, grabbing Viktor with ease. There was no way to escape his sanctuary, which he had specifically chosen for its confinement.

Viktor fought, perhaps harder than he ever had at the arena. He would be damned if he ever let himself be put in a cage again. He kicked at the alien, mercilessly aiming for soft spots he knew were on the human body and likely on the alien's body, as well. He screamed and yelled, cursing and pleading with Vok'Rul to stop, stop it you motherfucker, please don't make me go in there. He struggled and squirmed, but the alien had an iron grip. Viktor didn't make it easy for the alien, but he still ended up in the carrier, nonetheless.

As soon as the door clicked behind him, Viktor threw himself against the cage walls. It was as cramped as he remembered. He could barely move his arms and legs without colliding with the cold material. His throat felt heavy, weighed down by the invisible collar. Its prongs were sharp into the soft flesh of his neck, and no matter how hard he pressed on his throat, it wouldn't budge.