StH IDW Metal Virus

Survivors AU: Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (Work in Progress)

Line of Duty: Outline of the Introductory Plot (Frozen)

Archive: Long Term Effects, Infection Monitoring, Zeds Behaviour, Farside City Incident, Interaction With In/Organic Materials, Conversion Speed (Work in Progress)

Bad Memories (Updated Version)

Don't Stop

Another One

Good and Bad

StH S-J HungryHero.EXE

Forbidden Fruit AU: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (Work in Progress)

Red Dried Trail

Independent (Well... Kinda of)

StH New Era AU: Part 1 (Frozen)

StH Outside Danger AU: Part 1 (Frozen)

StH Suggested Ideas

Eggman as Knuckles Dad

Sonic and Shadow sparing

Shadow Return

Biometal Sonic

SevenTeens Laps

Short Horror Stories

Knocks

Closet

Hoping to Animate One Day

As you know, plants are able to process suffocating carbon dioxide into breathing oxygen, but...

What will happen if they all get infected and stop performing their functions?

Then friends becomes enemies...

Tangle thinks that incapacitated zombots must be burned before they could recover or else soon safehouse will be swarmed.

Whisper thinks that incapacitated zombots must be stored somewhere where they can't hurt anyone until the cure will be developed

After the especially huge horde and heavy casualties they can't keep avoiding the final resolution, noone of them wants to step back as well as losing anyone else.

First outcome: Whisper upperhands Tangle.

The last discharge knocks Tangle off her feet onto the cold ground, her offender lowers the weapon and finally exhales the air heated by the confrontation. Exhausted and stunned by what happened, they do not see how a metal monster crawls out of the seemingly immobile pile of bodies flickering in the setting sun. With its sharp fingers, it tries to grab the limur by the head, but only painfully cuts the flesh from which Whisper, who has not had time to recover, watches in horror as deep wounds appear on the familiar expression over and over again. Moments later, the head of the tearing creature flies apart into sparkling glitters and it wriggles and falls to the ground, slowly restoring the lost part of the body. However, the she-wolf does not pay attention to this, all that worries her is her friend wheezing on trembling hands. Through the blood pouring into her eyes and the infectious liquid that is spreading, Tangle looks at the sky in aimless inconstancy, not seeing the drops falling on top that involuntarily ooze from Whisper's closed eyelids. With each passing second, the limur's legs, quickly bending and unbending in agony, slow down their pace, the previously chaotically compressed chest inhales insufficient oxygen with increasing difficulty, the larynx contracts more and more quietly until it finally dies down. Despite the obviousness that is denied, the she-wolf continues to sit with a quiet body on her now shimmering arms. Soon, the lonely quiet sobs are joined by the growling of the newly converted creature that, opening its red eyes, pounces on the single target nearby.

Chapter 5

Red Colored Seasoning

At the moment, Tails was living a very strange period of his life. Despite the calmly living world and the large-scale problems that had not arisen, he felt more than ever such a persistent sense of the abnormality of the current state of things. Perhaps it was selfish of him to take it that way, because normality is the concept of the majority, who were quite satisfied with the serenity of their existence and did not care at all about the rare winds that carried away the fallen leaves, withered and unnecessary. But for the two-tailed fox, this was not the case, breaking away from the branch of the reigning peace, he found himself in a terrifying awareness of the present, the images of which seemed to be trying to drive him crazy. Perhaps he had really gone mad and none of what he saw was real, because what was presented before his eyes now looked very faintly like something associated with sanity. But he knew that it didn't work that way, which made it even harder to believe what had happened to him.

"Don't move!"

A shout from somewhere to the side brought Tails to his senses, and the multiple stomps that followed made it clear that he had to run. Rushing along a dark alley and driven by the sound of the chasing him heavy boots, like a hunted forest animal, he wound through a maze between buildings, changing direction over and over again in the hope of breaking away from his pursuers, but eventually came across a wire-fenced exit to the expressway. If it weren't for the sound ringing from contact with metal underfoot, the two-tailed mobian would have decided to climb over the barrier in front of him and thereby exposing his appearance to a dozen of rushing by eyes. On the ground, in the barely discernible morning darkness, he found a manhole. The fear of being recognized turned out to be stronger than disgust, with two fingers stuck through, Tails easily lifted the heavy lid and in a split second went down the stairs into the murky water, quietly placing the iron object back in place before the stomp came down on it. The runaway fox hid, listening to every rustle and fearing that at any moment the light of flashlights would be shed from above and he would be discovered. But nothing happened, only when the noise finally subsided and his heart took on a familiar rhythm, Tails allowed himself to move in order to understand which direction to go, however, looking at the tunnel divided by many turns, he realized that the way home would take a long time.

A few hours later...

"What have we got here, Espio?" An acid-green crocodile with small red spikes on its back running down to its tail turned to its partner, a tuning melody played faintly in its headphones that never left its head, and a gold chain glittered on its neck. With the help of white gloves with black cuffs decorated with a gold class patch, he removed the black and yellow restrictive tape that prevented him from passing.

"Murder with extreme cruelty, if what happened here can be called such," A purple chameleon with a yellow horn on its nose between golden eyes and a crest of three black spines along its back and a curled tail followed its boss. His dark purple boots with black elements and intricate cuffs shuffled smoothly and quickly on the ground, white gloves with a purple back and studded ribbons around his wrists and ankles carried a notebook filled with various kinds of notes.

"Why such uncertainty?" Following to the crime scene, Vector asked a question, as immediately felt a strongly familiar, and from that even even more unpleasant, smell.

"You'll understand soon enough", settling on one knee, the chameleon removed the covering from the body, under which the remains, disfigured beyond recognition, appeared – a mixture of bone fragments, torn pieces of flesh and gutted internal organs.

The previously tolerable dead air has become completely unbearable. To somehow hide from the stench penetrating into the nostrils, the crocodile raised his hand to his nose.

"Alright, now I've got what you were talking about. Ugh, what do we know?"

Opening his notebook, Espio began to sort through the written pages until he finally came across the right one.

"The victim body was discovered by a garbage collector during the morning shift. At first, he thought that some homeless person was just dripping in one of the bags until a severed arm flew in his direction, and then he called the security officers. Upon the discovery of the suspect, they ordered not to move, but in the ensuing chase, the fugitive escaped."

"Do we have a description?"

"Unfortunately, no. None of the participants could make out any distinctive features."

"Okay. Then let's scour the neighborhood, maybe we'll find something."

Meanwhile

When he finally got to his house, Tails could clean himself up. Luckily for him, there were very few people outside, from which only he himself could see the bloodstains frozen on the once yellow fur. For now. Until the shower, warm and cleansing, washes away the traces of the terrible deed. At the moment, this was the most desirable thing for the two–tailed fox, from which, in a hurry to climb up to the cherished goal, he did not burden himself with closing the front door, not yet knowing that a familiar figure was already walking towards his house - a male echidna with red fur covering most of its body, on whose head swayed from the side to side with each step seven dreadlocked needles of different lengths. Having found the desired house, silhouette hurried in its direction, but not for one meeting only. Being a technical genius and confidant, Miles "Tails" Prower was the best solution to his current problem, namely uninvited guests such as Rouge the Bat, who constantly visited lonely resident in another attempt to trick into her possession the main attraction of angel island – the Master Emerald. Her antics eventually began to cross all boundaries, from which even the slightest excommunication could turn into theft, which echidna, being its one-of-a-kind guardian, could not allow. Fortunately, he could always request help from the "Restoration" in which he had connections significant enough to call auxiliary security if necessary. However, such a decision was only temporary, sooner rather than later the dodgy thief will figure out how to accomplish her plan. Besides, Knuckles didn't wanted to be an extra burden for its command, they already had enough tasks even without him. No way, it's his job and his burden, no one else's. And yet, he decided to discuss the issue personally, none of the outsiders should have known about the security system that he would ask Tails to construct.

*Knock*

*Knock*

*Knock*

"Hello, is anyone home? It's me Knuckles, I need help with something."

No one answered the noise, as well as the words.

"Tails, are you there? It's urgent," he said a little louder.

And yet again, his announcement was ignored.

'He won't like it, but I have to let him know.'

Taking the handle, echidna slowly opened the door. "I'm coming in!"

As soon as he crossed the threshold, bells rang overhead, the unrequited noise of which only once again convinced him of the absence of the owner. At least that's what he thought.

"It seems like nobody there. In that case, I'll just leave him a note, but where… Huh."

Looking around, Knuckles was somewhat surprised by what was presented in front of him. Even without being a frequent visitor to this place, he immediately noticed the unusual tidiness for the fox, who was always busy with inventions. Very clean floors, free space for quick movement and the absence of inseparable pencils and notebooks everywhere, all this looked very little like the Tails he knew, and if it hadn't been for joint photos from adventure sites with Sonic, he might well have thought that he had mixed up the addresses. However, echidna was slightly alarmed by the curtained and closed windows, but that could well be attributed to some kind of necessity, too abstruse for a less focused on the invention mobian, such as he himself.

After wandering around the house for a while, he soon found the entrance to the basement, the last unchecked place, through which he began his slow descent into the unknown. Step by step.

*CREAK*

*creak*

*creak*

"That's better," Tails told himself as he turned off the water valves and left the shower stall, "Everything can still be fixed, I'll just need to… What is it?"

His train of thought was interrupted by a familiar barely hearable sound coming from somewhere below, only a few moments later he realized what it was like. Opening of the cold storage hermetic chambers. The thought that someone would find out his secret caused horror and panic. Miles couldn't afford it. With even faster speed than ever, he headed for the source, grabbing a wrench from the recently emptied garage. A couple of steps from the basement, Tails stopped, gathering his courage for the upcoming confrontation. Inhale, exhale. Saturate the blood, calm the nerves. However, jumping out from around the corner and ready to swing with one hand, he froze like a statue with a tool above his head, which in the darkness towering to the ceiling seemed to be trying to imperceptibly grab the uninvited guest with one outstretched hand and who, being discovered, froze studying a new victim, which this time turned out to be Knuckles standing in front of the open hermetic chambers. The echidna himself, at the sight of the owner of the lair, took a frightened fighting stance, his pointed shape with purple irises slightly rounded with horror, staring at the two-tailed fox exuding fear. Protruding razor-sharp claws, pointed fur tips and a wild, two-point luminous gaze. This was not the friend he had known for years, but something else that took his form to lure a new prey, as it turned out, successfully. Unable to make the slightest movement, they just stared at each other, barely remembering how to breathe. At the moment of stillness, Knuckles noticed a weapon in Tails's hands and immediately realized that he would not be released from here alive, and while there was an opportunity to act, it should be done first. With a sharp swing of his fist, he tried to knock the threat down, but the latter turned out to be faster. Dodging the attack, the yellow fox swung a swing wrench and, more by accident than intentionally, hit his opponent on the head, buying himself a few seconds for further actions. The echidna himself, defeated by the blow, fell to the floor, his whirling and deafened by the ringing consciousness no longer saw how the offender who grabbed him by the leg dragged his limp body towards a massive iron door, but not the one that once hid the frozen corpse from him, quite another that behind its electronic panel concealed a downward and unknown to anyone but the two-tailed itself place. Knuckles had managed to regain consciousness before the lock had time to click the mechanism. However, trying to prevent the closure, he could only put his hand up.

*Crack*

*AAAAAH!*

The radius broke out with a nasty crunch, and the long-drawn scream that followed almost deafened both of them.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Jumping back from fright, scared fox eased the pressure, "I didn't meant to..." He did not have time to finish.

The stupor he showed allowed his unwitting prisoner to increase the opening, multiplying the chances of a successful escape. Only then did Tails realize the cruel truth of his situation–either he would slam the door again, or everyone would find out about all of his deeds. Including Sonic, whose disappointed look will be more unbearable than any other torment. He can't let it happen.

*Crack*

The two-tailed one closes the opening again, the previously still wrist with white gloves, more like mittens with two large straight spikes on the knuckles and cuffs of the same color, was writhing in agony again, its crunch loudly hit the mind, the howl of pain again pressed on the ears.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" wailed Tails, repeatedly colliding hardening iron and grinding bone.

After the fourth blow, the interfering hand disappeared into the opening and the door closed, from the inside of the obstacle separating them, the previously painful scream with each blow on the hard steps faded more and more and soon disappeared altogether, while Tails could only stare in disbelief at the single drops of blood that trickled down the wall in a small stream forming a red puddle on the floor. Unpleasant to look at and disgusting to realize, but alluring with a fragrance penetrating the air. With the same pleasant aroma that started his nightmare, but gave him unprecedented pleasure, a new palette of flavors, pictures of satisfaction – too majestic in their art to allow the audience who once saw them to turn away. And Tails watched, learned, came closer and closer in order to study the colors shimmering in the light more closely. As if it were alive and conscious, its affectionate voice demanded sacrifices that the fox, fascinated by what he saw, was ready to provide if only to reopen the curtain of this museum. But it disappeared from his perception again and he realized this only when he stopped feeling the alluring taste that had previously existed on his tongue, which soon became metallic. Familiar metallic. The veil of obsession had disappeared from his eyes and only pale red tones remained unevenly smeared on the previously stained floor. Realizing what he had just done, Tails began to spit in disgust and wipe his lips.

"It happened again. Like the time when through my fault someone else was… Oh no, Knuckles!" The sudden thought of possible consequences made the two-tailed fox extremely worried, he will have another life on his account if he does not take urgent action and, more importantly, not lose control of himself again.

He opened the previously slammed door behind which, at the very bottom of the descending stairs surrounded by concrete walls, he saw Knuckles strewn with bruises and clutching an injured limb, his only open eye stared at a familiar silhouette that appeared in the doorway.

"Don't come near me! Stay away!" he hissed through teeth clenched from the pain that had not yet passed, rustling his wounded body deeper into a hidden place to another obstacle.

"I just want to help you!" Tails urged in a slightly twitching voice, closing the distance.

But echidna did not believe him, fearing that the empathy inherent in his old friend and familiar to him personally was only a skillful affectation created to distract attention from the true intentions, hint of which dripped from a fragment of radius protruding from under the red fur.

"Please! Let me do it!" The two-tailed one continued, pacing the beaten steps and trying not to look at the alluring scarlet, which became more difficult with each height left behind.

However, Knuckles, as if not hearing the voice, kept crawling away until with a blow to the back of his head he hit an uneven dead end, from which he instinctively closed the only active eyelid. For a moment he was lost in another flash of pain, but when he came to himself again and looked up, he saw a terrifying fox looming over him. Drooling, warmed up in anticipation, dripped from the jaws that hung like a trap ready to shut on him, and with each new blow on the dirty surface, it got closer to him. The exhausted echidna pressed his back against the vertical surface as much as he could, the least damaged arm raised in a weak attempt to protect him from sharpened teeth aimed at his neck – a gesture of desperation of cornered prey. The shadow created by this fell on his peach-colored muzzle, it's small but pointed black nose shook more and more, sensing the breeze of the approaching end, which was the smell of rotten remains emanating from the predator mouth. The red chest with the white crescent-shaped symbol slowly sank and rose, as if realizing the futility of resisting the impending threat. Eclipsed by the accumulated fatigue, the eye soon closed, imprinting an indistinguishable jaws before it. Vision failed, but the rest of perception continued to work, constantly sending non-figurative signals to the shutting down brain, when something disturbing the space moved in the direction of the echidna, playfully removing the now limp limb.

However, instead of bone needles, he only felt something soft and... fluffy. Pleasant to touch, sharing warmth, it rubbed against his carotid arteries, hugging his neck and feeling his pulse as if looking for the best place to bite, but then... Something hit him sharply and painfully in the bloodstream, a foreign body was spreading under the skin. The nerve endings screamed of danger, but now the already sedentary body only twitched slightly while Knuckles' mind, gripped by a rapidly subsiding horror, began to slowly dissolve into nothingness. His thoughts became confused and with each passing moment they became less important, the material self evaporated. There was no more pain, only a strangely pleasant calmness, as if rapidly approaching death was not something terrible, but something worth accepting as a gift. And he did not mind, having stopped resisting this invitation, he went to receive it. As Knuckles pulled the bow, a caressingly gentle and at the same time softly distressed voice reached his ears.

- Good and Bad -

Awakening, dinner, lunch, breakfast, lights out. A new day, a new cycle. How annoying it all was, even when she had once enjoyed a fight with the security service or members of a rival gangs, it no longer had a kindling spark. Even now, being in her already native solitary confinement, another mess later, a red vixen dressed in a yellow jumpsuit named Fiona still could not calm herself down. The psyche demanded the satisfaction of a wild disposition, and there were not so many available ways of leisure here. If she were free, she would obviously find something to entertain herself with, but here?

Despite many unsuccessful attempts, Fiona still had few options in her head for another escaping from this hole called prison, especially after some of the staff had been withdrawn a day ago and half of the equipment had been taken out. Most likely, this was somehow connected with the recent riots in nearby cities, newly arrived prisoners sometimes told about the events taking place there, but few of those present here believed them. However, the task did not become any easier - strict instructions and enhanced security measures came to replace the departed ones and the things taken with them. On top of this, the volume of food portions given out has recently decreased significantly, which made the outcome of the hunger–weakened venture more obvious than ever - beatings, failure, and a loner cell again. But she wasn't going to give up so easily, since when could difficulties along the way make her give up? No, none of this was capable of deterring this persistent vixen. Neither strong walls, nor a strict security system. But it takes time to think through a good plan, which Fiona had plenty of.

Lying on the cold floor and looking at the ceiling of the cement box, she was mentally outlining the sequence of actions when the flow of her thoughts was interrupted by a noise from outside. A little later, incessant chatter began to emanate from the radio of the standing outside warden. Fiona couldn't make out any of the words, but their loud sounding made it clear the importance of the broadcast. Very soon it's receiver left the corridor in the direction of the stairs, leaving the yellow-suited prisoner alone with herself. It seems that someone managed to get ahead of her.

Jumping to the double bars of a small window on her third floor and clutching them with both hands, she watched as crowds of unknown people entered the courtyard from the entrance gate. They looked strange: ordinary civilians, completely unfamiliar faces, no bandages or noticeable marks hinting at belonging to any criminal group, as well as fabrics hiding their faces. It was thanks to this that the attentive vixen was able to discover something alarming for himself – their glowing red eyes and faces full of malice. Outsiders immediately began to rush at everyone they met. Perimeter guards and security personnel who arrived to help them, instead of the usual expected orders not to move, immediately opened fire upon all of those who approached. However, this did a little to stop the attackers - those who fell to the ground soon got to their feet and again rushed into a suicidal attack. Fiona could have sworn that she saw one of the crowd's member hands torn off, which, however, did not affected the victim's behavior at all.

Retreating personnel and the crowd chasing them very soon disappeared from her sight, while sounds of the struggle shifted somewhere to the first floor, and with them came the shrill screech of a siren and intimidating red emergency lighting. Going back down to the floor, red vixen began to think about what to do next, it was unacceptable to miss this unique opportunity to escape, but... The cell door is strong - can't break it down, the same story with the window, and even with success, there's nothing to do without a rope on the outside. The situation seemed hopeless, all that was left for her to do now was to wait for the rest.

Or else…

A crazy idea popped into her head, Fiona got to her feet and looked at claws. Despite their weekly forced cutting, these incredibly sharp and unusually durable tips grew back quite quickly, which in the current situation was more useful than ever. Leaning on the claw of her finger on the nearby bed, she sharply kicked it off from the phalanx of her finger at the root. Burning pain went through her whole body with an unpleasant impulse, but only an angry exhalation left her lips – one of her methods to endure any torment. Loud noise of the confrontation that had previously existed somewhere deep below has now shifted to the second floor. She quickly began to rub the picked-up fragment of herself against the wall with one end, sharpening it middle to the shape of a straight screwdriver tip with which she could try to unscrew the bolts blocking the axial pin at the intersection of the door hinges, which she eventually succeeded. Now, the iron obstacle standing in the way of freedom could be removed with the use of brute force. But loud noise has already outstripped the savvy tailed one.

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

Someone on the other side of the solitary cell was desperately tried to get inside, showering the barrier with a heavy hail of weighty swings and a burst of angry growls. Whoever it was, such intentions were clearly not friendly. Under the pressure of the angered stranger, the previously twisted pins began to bend towards the yellow prisoner, threatening to crush with all the weight of the door they held. With the last push, the rectangular surface separating them fell on the yellow-clothed vixen that was waiting for it. With the opposite, and even stronger impulse she kicked it in the opposite direction. Unexpecting attacker was soon pinned down by so hated obstacle, from under which only twitching limbs with pointed fingers could be seen. But Fiona barely noticed this. Wasting no time in vain, she rushed to run along the corridor towards the stairs, around the turn of which the warden assigned to her had disappeared relatively recently. Going around the corner, she did not meet the password-locked gates she expected, instead there was a wide-open passage that allowed both to go down to the exit and climb up to the roof. Taking into account the sounds of battle that had not yet subsided on the lower floors, she beat off a rhythmic melody along the towering steps that marked the first step towards long-awaited freedom.

The first of an unknown set. The second turned out to be the blue-armored warden standing in the middle of the corridor. Before their gazes crossed, with a sparkling blow of an electric baton armored jailer knocked out a prisoner who were trying resist and, seeing a new target, immediately changed electric charged steel to a plasma blaster and ordered her to lie down on the ground. But instead of the expected submission, received only a sly grin. Even through the opaque visor of protective helmet, Fiona could see an expression of confusion. This one obviously new here, anyone else who knew her would have opened fire right away knowing how dangerous she is. That's her chance to act.

Short moment of confusion turned into a lightning-fast rolling of the red-tailed target towards one of the lead pipes, followed by an equally rapid separation from the water supply system. Belatedly aimed blaster managed to make only a few close-to-hit shots before being knocked out of hand by an oblong object that cut through the air and caused deadly weapon to fly several meters away. Leveling the chances, Fiona were now rapidly closing the distance.

Swing, dodge, somersault and now warden knocked down on the floor, pinned down by a nimble vixen. Small grin shining on her only widened at the sight of the disarmed opponent, satisfied gaze fell on the electric club lying out of reach of the former owner, such ironic outcome of his current situation suggested itself. But the subject of satire himself could hardly understand this, having barely recovered from the stunning, jailer only managed to notice the outlines of suppression instrument towering above. A moment to counteract.

*Ding*

Warden's left elbow protection reflects the attack, quick swing of the right fist forces red vixen to roll backwards, dropping the weapon.

Draw. For now.

Incessant noise from the lower floors is only getting louder, but none of the moral barricades sides paid any attention to it. Staring at each other, they prepared for a new round of confrontation, stretching limbs and examining surroundings. Red paw picks up the earlier throwed lead, blue glove returns it's lost iron. Both opponents are now waiting for the right moment. Light bulb, weakened by energy fluctuations, like a starting pistol gives both of them a signal to start, with the last flash of light and plunges the corridor into low-pitch darkness. A second later, the dull thud of approaching footsteps is replaced by ringing blows from the participants of the conflict who crossed their weighty arguments that, with the sparkling contact of hostile intentions casted shadows of the blue warden and the red prisoner circling in a dangerous dance were carved on the uneven surface of the walls. While the nimble vixen confidently dodged every lunge aimed at her, the armored jailer steadfastly blocked each of her lightning attacks. Despite their increasing fatigue, none of them could afford to stop, just as any decisive blow.

Suddenly, a cellmate, who had been lying unconscious before, came to the vixen's aid. She couldn't see the face, but the physique alone was enough to remember who it was - a weak coward who often did the desired job with a simple snap of her fingers. Pouncing on unsuspecting warden from behind, he knocked his enemy to the floor and, like a madman, began pounding helmet-covered head into the crackling surface of the floor.

'Where did he suddenly got so much strength and character from?' Fiona thought as her pride took its toll.

Even though fumes of heated air were still coming from her lips, she was sure that she could have handled it on her own, and therefore, having replaced her hitherto gambling grin with a displeased expression, red vixen began to scold her uncalled ally for completely unnecessary help. But her indignation was interrupted by a familiar facial feature. Through the darkness surrounding trio, a pair of red glowing eyes with barely noticeable dot pupils stared at her, radiating materialized anxiety. In response to the rebuke, only a guttural growl sounded, as if passed through a broken dictaphone. It echoed down the dark corridor from which rapidly approaching and heavy stepping footsteps now continuously came by the side of the stairwell that had once been left behind. Someone who seemed to be one of her own, having risen to his feet, now turned all his furious attention from the motionless body to the dumbfounded vixen. Instantly released into the blood adrenaline turned the following moments into a creepy slideshow. Gleaming angular teeth. An ineffectual blow. Sharp fingers on a lead pipe and a full of hatred face getting closer and closer, stopping centimeters from her frightened own. With back pressed against the nearest wall, Fiona could only try with all her might not to let herself fall to the floor, simultaneously dodging the sometimes particularly strong attempts of the overly aggressive attacker to cling to her with his sharp fangs. However, each passing second only exhausted the remaining reserves of endurance more and more, while the noise from the stairwell grew more and more menacingly louder and clearer scary. If not for her titanic efforts of will, the muscles aching from hostile pressure would have weakened their resistance long ago, giving her former ally the opportunity to tear the exhausted victim apart. But she held on, at least until the overstressed tendons will begin to rip one by one.

When the sweating fingers seemed about to slip off the only oval barrier separating them, the head of the red-eyed monster, with a flash of bright blue behind, shattered into flickering in the weak light fragments. It immediately let go of the red-tailed vixen and fell on it's side, twitching and writhing, trying to grab a more nonexistent brain. Startled, sky-blue eyes fell on the only possible source of the faded glow - previously lying warden. With one relying hand with an electric baton, jailer rested on the floor, and in the other a trembling blaster, through a hole in the cracked visor of the helmet, a half-closed orange-yellow stared at dumbfounded prisoner.

Behind, at the stairwell checkpoint, pushing each other, crowds of red-eyed monsters, similar to those who drove the guards into the building, had already caught up.

"Run… Please..." The only thing that former opponent could squeeze out before collapsing to the ground.

Fiona first thought was to do so, but…

Despite the obviousness of the decision and her bad attitude towards law enforcement and heroes in general, something made her hesitate.

What had happened here did not look like at least one of the prison riots she had ever seen, why would strange-looking civilians suddenly need to break into a correctional facility and attack the first people they met? And why did the cowardly cellmate she knew suddenly attacked the warden, almost smashing protected head with his weak little hands, and then, with a wild roar, at her herself while looking indistinguishable from "uninvited guests"? There are too many questions and very few answers. Something was clearly wrong, and if that "wrong" was happening in the outside world, then she had to know as much as possible. But to her great regret, the only available and, perhaps, the last source of information was former opponent lying on the floor, whose interrogation is possible only under the condition of private and personal communication for which she will have to take risks. However, is this idea so bad? If an electronic lock or, chaos forbid, a retinal scanner turns out to be on one of the doors ahead? Such a mistake would be fatal.

Besides, in the current state of affairs, it wouldn't hurt for her to have at least some kind of help. Even such as this one.

No matter how much Fiona hated them, she still couldn't help but recognize their sometimes even sacrificial selflessness, which, not without a drop of long-suppressed regret, she often used for selfish purposes and cunning plans. If they were not on different sides of the barricades, then everything could well have been different, because she's truly respected the dedication of which her sworn enemies were known and which was very often not enough for accomplices in criminal activities. It would be very useful to have such an ally. Moreover, in the event of a meeting with another attacker, her chances of fighting off alone will be quite low, and with a companion in misfortune they will become somewhat higher. At least for a while, unless later it becomes necessary to use that "ally" as bait for her own salvation.

Is it reasonable? Fiona didn't know. Anyway, the decision has been made, she will have time to hate herself later, but for now…

*Wham*

A pipe darted into the shapeless crowd and knocked down the first one of them, causing the rest to fall like skittles. In two jumps, reaching the warden, the red-tailed vixen threw heavy arm around her neck, and intercepted the plasma pistol with the other.

"On your feet, I'll need you!" She hissed.

On legs wobbly from floating in agony mind, the carried one rustled along the surface vibrating from the trampling, while Fiona, in a half-turn, began to settle the nearest of her pursuers with a plasma pulse, briefly increasing the distance with a periodic flash and gradually approaching the fire door at the end of the corridor. So close, only half a dozen meters. One, two, three…

Too-frequent footsteps behind attracted all her attention. With a quick movement of her hand, she managed to shoot offhand the stomping threat, who turned out to be her recently headshotted cellmate. How is that even possible? Fiona didn't know, and she wasn't in a hurry to find out. All she cared about right now was the saving red rectangle at arm's length. Opening the heavy door, she roughly pushed warden inside onto the stairs and pulled the handle. The impotent blows on the other side of the barrier sounded like a victorious triumph.

Leaning against the wall, the red-tailed vixen slowly slid down, lowering her hands to her bending knees. Finally, a break.

Survived duo spent some time in relative silence, gradually recovering their lost breath while the faint red light was getting weaker.

"Why…?" Slightly raising its head, a tired look asked through a cracked visor of bended helmet.

"I need information, as much as possible. And you..." Fiona glanced at the badge "Gadget, going to tell me. One way or another."

Red vixen casually showed plasma blaster that now belongs to her, wordlessly hinting at a different way of interrogation from the verbal one.

"I'll... I'll tell you. Just..." He paused to take another deep breath, but fell silent.

After waiting a few seconds and getting no response, Fiona waved her hand.

"Hey!" Red vixen hit the cement floor with the handle. Weakly, but loud enough to bring her interlocutor's attention. The latter only twitched slightly "I'm still waiting."

"Do me... A favor. Take off that helmet..."

A simple, unremarkable request, despite its simplicity of execution, still aroused Fiona's suspicion – why wouldn't he do it himself? Was it just an attempt at deception disguised as weakness, or did he really get hit SO hard? There was only one way to find out.…

With her hand extended under the visor, she snapped the groped clasp and abruptly took off protective gear.

*SIGH*

Red vixen immediately retreated a few steps and pointed the weapon at the head of the moving body, waiting for retaliatory actions from the recent opponent. But got nothing, instead of the attack, there was only a relieved exhalation.

"Thank you... Very much."

Realizing that her suspicions were not justified, Fiona sat back down.

Only now, having passed the moment of tension, she could fully see the face of her soon-to-be companion in misfortune.

The once defeated blue-armored warden turned out to be a red wolf with long pointed ears that had a green mono headset with a microphone, amber eyes and tanned skin. On his muzzle, distorted from not yet passed pain, black glasses with, apparently, recently cracked glass twitched slightly.

While Fiona was waiting for an answer, the muffled bangs on the door and the noise of confrontation coming from somewhere in the distance became fainter, which seemed to suck the last remnants of electricity from the fading red staircase lamps.

"So tell me. What's going on outside of this place?"

As if trying to get ahead of the answer, with a buzzing, one floor after another, the lights began to turn off. The creeping darkness was slowly but surely creeping up on the only heat carriers.

The clouds darken and gather, each new day is gloomy than the previous one. Whether this is really the end of the world or just the perception of an exhausted mind is no longer important. His short-lived survival ended on the last piece of food, the crumbs of which were left somewhere near backpack, far behind. If he had overcome his fear back then, maybe he could have lived a somewhat longer, but soulless red eyes of his friends were too heavy for his devastated psyche to bear and forced to run. Run and stumbled, stumbled and fell, fell and got up, over and over again to the distant growls, only to find himself outside the city in the middle of an empty field with metallized grass, the tips of which painfully pressed on the rubber of his boots, making the already painful running agonizing. So he stoped.

Wandering around the glittering surface at that time seemed better than the prospects of becoming part of a new wretched reality, and only the slow realization of the misery of his current situation and the growing feeling of hunger made to think about the opposite. But it was already too late, there was nothing on the horizon anymore, only distant mountains and empty hills. All that remained was to trudge forward through the slowly cooling air in the hope of stumbling upon a settlement.

The few hours that had passed since then now seemed endless, at one of the moments his cyclical thoughts were interrupted by clouds of smoke appearing in the sky from somewhere over the hill. It's sighting gave him strength and captured attention while increasing voices beckoned to follow. With each closing step, it become easier to move, as if unknown energy had taken him over, filling tired body. Not enough to run, but too much to shamble.

Soon, the backs of strangers appeared behind one of the houses near a blinding light of campfire. He wanted to scream, to call for help, but only a soft mumble came from his strangely heavy lips. But nothing of it matter anymore, they're so close, just to reach out.

And be horrified.

Rising by themselves, his gleaming limbs grabbed the nearest one and pulled him along, dropping the bodies of both to the ground while the crowd, with screams and cries, began to scatter in all directions.

Mobius, the evening of a significant day. A blue hedgehog was walking along a half-empty corridor, barely illuminated by the light of ceiling lamps and the not yet put in order command center of the "restoration", towards the much-desired sleeping cabins. Uncharacteristically, he slowly shuffled his feet on the floor, which was somewhat dirty from a relatively recent incident, paying little attention to the workers here and there doing their job.

Not out of disrespect, of course. It was just that too much was spinning in his unusually foggy head, once the fleeting flow of time hardly left an opportunity to slow down the movement of events floating along it, that one after another collision against the rocks of his consciousness blurred the already crumbling from exhaustion psyche. However, all this was behind him, the only thing that mattered to him now was the need to get a good healthy sleep and forget this part of the past as a terrible nightmare. But to Sonic's great regret, like any other emotionally colored dream, it could settle on a perception of reality distorted by accumulated fatigue. For example, by touching.

The self-absorbed hedgehog was brought back to reality by the feeling of a heavy touch on his shoulder. Uncomfortably cold and vaguely familiar, it caused anxiety coming from somewhere deep in forcibly forgotten memories.

Alarmed, he carefully turned his head in the direction of the cause of this sensation. The outlines gleaming in the dim light were enough to plunge his body into a shallow tremor, and his mind into an unrestrained panic. A cold iron hand, with pointed fingers and a shimmering liquid spreading from it, held the base of his limb. Immediately, fragments of the past flooded into the hedgehog, numb with fear, and the darkness of horror overshadowed his mind. Sonic immediately realized who had grabbed him, he did not need to see an angry, angular muzzle full of razor-sharp fangs in order to recognize the zombot standing behind him and realize what would happen if he did not immediately take the necessary measures.

With a supersonic movement, the blue hedgehog knocked the arm off his shoulder and with an equally significant swing of his leg, he threw the source of danger away from himself. Metal monster screeched against the cracked surface of the collision and made several uncontrolled somersaults before stopping its chaotic movement. Defeated creature seemed to be trying to say something, but only a quiet growl came from its cold lips, dispersing the dust that rose into the air.

Time is short, infected hedgehog needs to run while the transformation process can still be reversed.

"What are you doing, Sonic?!" weak voice confuses, the familiar pronunciation makes him freeze.

Zombots can't talk, and if it's not one of them, then it means…

The veil of fear slowly fell from his darting eyes, along with it came awareness and showed a terrible picture hiding behind its intangible fabric: A two-tailed fox cub lay on the floor, holding his head and moaning softly, his small paws covered a noticeable bruise, his lower limbs bent at an unnatural angle trying to calm the surging pain. Several workers standing behind him, their faces expressing the highest degree of incomprehension.

Sonic was numb, he couldn't believe what he saw, didn't wanted to, was afraid to accept what just happened.

"Tails, but how… How is that?! There was..."

Shocked hedgehog did not have time to finish, his gaze fell on the gray welding gloves lying next to the victim of his outburst, the same ones that terrified his mind with the cold of their contact and forced to do the impossible – to hit Tails, his support and pride, his friend and partner, his little brother. With wet eyes, Sonic quickly ran up to the bent fox cub, picked up from the ice-cold floor, pressed to himself with all strength and lowered his head onto twin-tailed one neck.

"I'm sorry, Miles! You know I wouldn't hurt you for anything, you know that, right?!" tears began to slowly drip from his eyes. He didn't know what was weighing more heavily on his wildly beating heart: the memories of the nightmares he had experienced over the past few stressful days, or the fact that he had just brought torment to his younger brother, the light of life that he promised himself at all costs to protect. Probably all of this.

Unbearable pain was bursting inside him, he wanted to disappear, evaporate, run away from himself as far as possible, just not to experience this burning sensation of guilt. It was scary to think what he would have done if the quiet words hadn't reached his ears.

"I know Sonic, I know better than anyone" sobbing hedgehog felt the movement of the fox cub.

Soft tails wrapped around his back, giving him a pleasant warmth and feel of materialized sympathy. Soft paws pressed his shoulders, a fluffy muzzle rubbed against his neck. Tails' words calmed and filled with confidence, which drove away the clouds of anxiety and precipitation of fear. Unwilling to disturb the peace he had found, only a minute later Sonic still got to his feet and carefully pulled the fox cub after him.

"Lean on me, let me take you to the infirmary," Sonic said, wiping his wet eyes, and led Tails along a less dim corridor.

as loading theme with such description:

"Once this place was considered an important strategic site and a refuge for all those who escaped from the besieged by infection cities, but now it is just another cemetery of unfulfilled hopes. Here you can find a lot of useful supplies, including military equipment and related weapons. But be careful, despite the dead silence in the air, this place is still heavy populated with ghosts of former residents who are ready to chase uninvited guests through fences and walls."

Silence of the yellow house is broken by loud and persistent knocks on the door, the echo they create rapidly spreads through all its rooms and only the pricked ears of the single inhabitant of this place pick up the indignation that has appeared in the air. Hearing the sound, he hurriedly threw the dictaphone into the top drawer of the workbench and, creaking the floorboards of going up stairs, rushed to meet the unexpected guest.

Behind the door of the main entrance, there was a female silhouette, a gray badger in a white T-shirt, blue jeans and black sneakers.

"Are you Mr. Tails?" her voice trembled slightly, either from fear, or from small in its constancy sips of oxygen.

"Yes, it's me" feeling the haste in voice, the yellow fox did not ask for a name and immediately moved on to the point "What the matter?".

"Some robbers broke into my house! Please help me!" almost breaking into a hysterical scream, badger replied.

"Where it happened?".

A few phrases later, the two-tailed one was already moving towards the right address. Having covered the distance in record time, he found himself next to the building he was looking for. For his convenience, one of the windows leading to the street was open, allowing the hurrying fox to quickly and unhindered get inside.

After climbing over, Tails looked around. The local environment was a mayhem in its most direct sense – the furniture was turned upside down, and all electronics of any value were either missing or useless junk lying on the floor. A rumble coming from the kitchen caused twin-tailed fox to shift his attention from the mess the intruders had made to their possible location. Looking through the doorway, he saw something different from the usual image of bandit raiders. At the feet of one of the three robbers hiding their faces with rags, a guest of this house, who apparently turned up here at the wrong time, was kneeling, a kitchen knife missing from a stand glittered next to his throat. Noticing the intruder, the criminal dangerously pressed the sharp blade to the surface of the skin - a silent warning not to come closer. In hanging tension, Tails considered a way to overcome the situation which would exclude the possibility of hurting the hostage. Having come to the idea of salvation, the cunning fox pretended to give up, sinking to the floor and at the same time imperceptibly extending one of the tips of his tail to an extension cord lying nearby. But it seems that Tails gave himself away.

A wave of sharpened iron cut through the space, leaving a red stripe on a hitherto clean background. The exhausted body fell to the floor, and from somewhere under the neck, a thin stream of red liquid, too familiar to Miles, was flowing smoothly into a blurred puddle. Even the main source of pain for Mobius's knew the extent of his atrocities and rarely resorted to such things, but apparently these scum considered themselves above him. Shocked fox was brought out of his stupor by the whistle of a blade flying close to his head, only thanks to hardened reflexes he escaped dangerous situation with only a cut to his earlobe. The sight of someone else's blood in the compartment with belated pain awakened something inside Tails, the mechanism of his subconscious clicked a lever and lifted the bars. With a powerful blow of the right hand, he sent the standing nearby scumbag into a short flight that ended in a collision with a wooden obstacle of the back exit door, the hinges of which responded with a metallic ringing. Upon seeing a fallen comrade, the criminals rushed into the scattering. But they didn't go far. With an extension cord picked up from the floor, the two-tailed one wrapped the wire around the duo, who had not yet had time to run up, guaranteed to constrain their movements. The mains filter housing, after making another circle, crashed into the face of one of them, releasing its electrically conductive insides. Tails took a fleeting glance at the bare wires that had settled on their heads and a crazy thought crossed his mind.

'Maybe i should recharge them a little bit?' such idea made him smile involuntarily, baring his pointed fangs.

If it hadn't been for the previously stunned and now risen to his feet scumbag, Miles could have carried out his plan. However, the rapidly speeding silhouette forced him to change his priorities. Shaking his head, Tails chased after the fleeing one.

Slamming the back door, the fugitive rushed away, but the yellow pursuer was not going to let him escape so easily. Not after his deed. Gradually reducing the distance, Tails quite successfully kept up with the criminal who had already begun to wind through the alleys, which along the way scattered various trash on the chasing fox. However, this could hardly stop the latter, the obstacles that appeared on the way only slowed him down for a short time, delayed the inevitable.

And yet the chase continued. Soon, Tails began to feel a strange, growing excitement inside him. It seems that the time spent in the cage of his own house made him hungry for the once constant adventures. And not only emotionally. In addition, the fox, carried away by the chase, felt growing fatigue, unusually strange and somewhat alien. It usually took much more than a short run to exhaust him in any way, a lot of sleepless nights in the workshop or days of rushing from one disaster to another. But now...

Compensating for the oxygen running out, the two-tailed greedily gulped down air. His constantly closing jaws emitted a low wheeze that slowly turned into a deep growl. The accumulating exhaustion was taking it's toll, slowing Miles down significantly. The chase threatened to end favorably for his target. He couldn't allow it. Moving to all fours, through the burning pain of his lungs, the yellow fox significantly increased his speed and caught up with the fugitive in a few strokes of his hitting the ground claws. A sharp throw followed by a grab knocked them to the cold surface, a cacophony of thuds and torn fabric filled the lonely empty alley, along with this drowning out the mutual painful grunts. The right of first action allowed Tails to group extremely quickly and now the exit to a busy street that seemed so close that it could allow the criminal to easily get lost in the crowd was blocked by the silhouette of the messenger of justice hidden in the darkness.

Rising from all fours to both walking limbs, Miles, with his narrowed pupils, carefully watched the target slowly rising and swaying from side to side. Target fall after an unsuccessful attempt to straighten up served as a good signal for an attack. The one who tried to resist him had only enough strength to swing his fist in the direction of the rapidly approaching shadow. His knuckles landed right in the open fox's mouth. Sharp fangs cut through the flesh, tearing off a decent piece. Soft mass that settled on the dried up from a long chase tongue, doused it with scarlet moisture and a pleasant feeling which forced the fatigue to instantly leave tired fox body. Stunned by the unexpected surge of strength, two-tailed one slightly backed away and bent over, licking large drops of blood from his lips without noticing. Only now, remembering the piece of meat what had long ago dissolved in it, the womb demanded a new portion, continuously sending hunger hormones to the brain. And it returned with renewed vigor. Hitherto ignored by the chase and previously suppressed by disgusting food that was absorbed only thanks to antiemetic pills, the current it demanded immediate compensation for all lost possibilities. Coming to his senses, once dazed fox opened his eyes and fell them on the fugitive's hand oozing with life-giving juice. The brightness of the wound, with its fragrance emanating from it, enticed, attracted the mesmerized Miles. Just as pleasant, just as desirable as last time.

Last time…

That time reflected as a black spot in his memories. It's comeback sobered Tails instantly, the veil of euphoria fell from his eyes, revealing the ugly intentions of the unconscious.

'No, this is wrong! I can't, i won't!' locked in a cranium cage, his mind screamed silently unwilling to accept the stomach offer. But body thought otherwise. Pulling the strings of perception and exciting neurons one by one, it desperately tried to capture the conscious, relentlessly attacked the wall of moral principles hoping to break the will of it's master by brute force of material needs. But the durability of this barrier turned out to be too high, and then it chose a new plan.

'What's right then?' a silent question sounded, 'Torment yourself with exhaustion? Close your eyes to the outlines of bones protruding from under the fur? Or... To cold-blooded murder?'

The last words rang out in a suspiciously hushed mind like a hammer on the judge's knocker. Indeed, who was Tails chasing all this time? A selfish robber who steals what does not belong to him, a malicious criminal who has no place in a normal society...

"The immoral murderer who took someone else's life," Miles concluded.

There was an unusual silence in the fox's head. No more streams of conflicting thoughts, no buzzing brain trying to control them, nothing. Only the consciousness persuaded to act.

Tails body slowly straightened up, his hands dropped to hip level. Slowly turning his head, he looked with barely white eyes in the direction of the accelerated by his appearance heartbeat. Still breathing heavily, the fugitive no longer seemed worthy of capture and transfer to civil security officers.

Unworthy of existence.

The object of such attention seemed to feel a thought entering the air and, hoping to be spared, put his hands in front of him in a surrendering manner, but seeing Tails pupils narrowed to a point, he immediately realized the futility of such an action. Something previously hidden in the subconscious whispered to the two-tailed fox the correct sequence. Lightning-fast rush towards the prey with rapidly changed to the opposite movement of the resisting hand. The neck, uncovered by the displacement of the limb, was exposed by its insecurity. And that's all Miles needs.

A fleeting second turned the scream that had not had time to leave the throat into a quiet, audible only by the cause of this sound, wheeze. Frantically writhing body tried to detach itself from the savage fox, but the death grip of its jaw like a bear trap only bit harder into the surface of the flesh, which was pouring out abundantly in scarlet streams. Completely immersed in the mind-numbing euphoria, Miles hardly noticed the blows raining down on his back, especially since with every passing second the force and speed of their contact faded like a burning candle. Having finally quenched his thirst for blood, he could move on to the most delicious part of the punishment.

However, consciousness stopped him in time. No, he was not going to stop the suffering of his prey, on the contrary. With a rag torn from the criminal's face and later ripped in two, he covered the wound on his neck and tightened one of his limbs. Only now could Miles begin.

Giving free rein to hunger, he began methodically, piece by piece, gnawing on the phalanges of his fingers, gradually rising up and enjoying the horrified look of his victim that could only watch the bloody feast being the main dish. Almost reaching the handmade tourniquet, the still hungry fox drew attention to the withering eyes of the source of such satisfying protein.

"Oh, no, no, no. You're not getting off that easy," Miles said with a chuckle, "Come on, look, LOOK!"

He shouted the last word and with a quick movement of his head he gnawed off the half open eyelid, unconcealed pupil focused on the piece of thin flesh hanging from the bloody jaw.

Satisfied with the attention he received, the two-tailed one swallowed it in one swift motion and, ripping off the reddened gloves with his teeth, plunged the freed claw into the slowly rising and falling belly.

Knocked out from under the space by a strong blow against a wooden structure, a yellow fox moaned softly. Flow of time turned into a thick jelly, dragging the mind into the depths of the subconscious. He had lost the track of time spent on the surface drenched in his own sweat for a long ago, constantly writhing in attempts to escape from his body, which took it's owner hostage. Short and intermittent dreams blurred the line with reality, promised long-awaited peace for completing a task unknown to himself. But that was just a lie created by an inflamed mind to deceive and repeat this endless cycle of madness.

Which had no end.

From these incessant torments, Tails unconsciously bit his lower lip. Sharp fangs pierced the pale surface of the skin, along which soon a thin streamlet of scarlet trickled. Once on the rough tongue, it slowly dissolved, its particles bypassing the stomach, spread throughout the body. Last of all, they reached the brain and gently drifting along the nerves finally settled on its cells, beginning their hidden effect.

Burning pain reluctantly receded, giving a short-term, but so long-awaited peace in which the exhausted fox mind dissolved.

.

.

.

Slowly returning to reality, grunting and puffing, Tails put his palm on his forehead, which had begun to heat up again, which was prevented by some dry cloth. A repeated thud on the glass made his ears prick up, his reddened eyes finally left the shelter of the eyelids and now listlessly studied their surroundings. Blurred vision forced Miles to blink constantly in order to finally let his visual receptors finish painting it's oil painting.

Some time later, he was finally able to look around properly.

Yellow fox, half-covered with a blanket, lay in his bed with an already dried rag on his head, dim daylight barely made its way through the closed curtains, gently lying on all surfaces of the room, including the communicator carefully placed on the bedside table. Despite the incomplete awakening, mind that had once scattered to it immediately noticed discrepancies with the last memories, but the course of relevant reflections was interrupted by a cloudy figure that entered the room and soon took the form of hedgehog. Noticing movement in the area of the bed, Sonic put down the bucket of water and hurried to put Tails back in a horizontal position.

"Calm down, buddy, I'll take care of you" said the hedgehog, lowering the fox's head back onto the pillow, "You have a fever and a nasty bruise on your forehead, I have already called the doctor, so try not to move and rest for now."

"How... How long have I been out?" Tails shifted his faint gaze from the ceiling to the hedgehog standing next to him.

"I don't know, maybe a few hours. It took me about that long to get here after you didn't answer my call," Sonic said, wetting the rag and putting it back on the fox's heated forehead. "No one has seen you for a month, so I started to worry if everything was okay. As it turned out, it was not in vain…"

He said without finishing. Tails soon broke the silence.

"A month? But..." a knock on the door interrupted him in mid—sentence, preventing him from finishing what he had said.

Hedgehog retreated in the direction of the front door, from where a little later he heard the ringing of bells and the approaching trampling of a pair of feet. As it turned out, source who entered the room was someone in a white medical coat with small rounded glasses on his nose and a stethoscope around his neck. Standing in the doorway, he said something to Sonic and he cast a last friendly glance and closed the door behind him, slowly leaving the house.

Left alone with his patient, doctor picked up a medical instrument and asked Tails to take a sitting position, which was given to the latter with a certain amount of effort. While the inspection was being carried out over him, fox had already begun to feel fatigue rolling in like a snowball, each passing second only increased its volume and speed. Strength he had to resist it was quickly running out, Miles could barely cling to reality, trying to focus on the raindrops hitting the glass. And yet, despite his efforts, sooner rather than later he began to fall over on his side, as the doctor constantly informed him. But Tails hardly heard these remarks. His brain was malfunctioning and shutting down in between heartbeats in order to somehow continue to function. Nerves were periodically shortened and only at the last second managed to give the right signal.

At one of these endless moments, everything stopped at once, the nervous system stopped its routine work, the body went limp and Tails's head flew down like a stone.

However, instead of a short flight, only met a blow with it's jaw on something soft. From this touch, an energy discharge spread throughout his body. And yet this sudden burst of cheerfulness dried up as quickly as it had appeared, and Miles had to fight the descent into darkness again.

But something has changed.

It took a split second to realize this, which two-tailed had lost count of a long time ago.

Somewhere there was the crunch of a window frame and the whistling of air rushing inside. Miles didn't knew nor care how it happened, the only thing that could attract his faint attention was the raindrops that began to penetrate the room.

Warm

Invigorating

Unexpected, but so desirable, they seemed to wash away all accumulated fatigue and drive away the fog from the mind lost in it.

From the growing pleasure, Tails even opened his mouth slightly, wanting to absorb this moisture inside himself.

Something was wrong.

Drops of this water had a strangely familiar taste...

Metallic

Brain, which was in a misunderstanding, demanded clarification from the optic nerves, which in response raised the curtain of the eyelids.

What Miles saw at that moment was a black spot in his memory.

Clutching at his throat, the doctor unsuccessfully tried to stop the flow of pulsating fluid. Scarlet color quickly covered his hitherto white medical coat, his rapidly paling face expressed unbearable pain and horror, instead of words, only a whistle came out of his mouth, mistaken by the fox for the sound of the wind.

Coming out of his stupor, Tails tried to help by covering the bleeding wound with a cloth from his forehead.

But it was too late. Too late.

With a final shudder, doctor quieted down, chest stopped its frantic movement, his hands relaxed their pressure and fingers slowly parted to the sides.

Unable to believe what had happened, terrified fox moved further and further away from the bed with small steps until he ran into the wall along which he slid to the floor. Sitting on the cold surface, he froze, unable to take his eyes off the now lifeless body. Something nasty was sliding down his forehead and gluing his eyelids. After wiping his face, Tails looked at his now bloody hands. From their appearance, a lump formed in his throat, attempts to swallow it caused discomfort in the oral cavity, tongue felt something dense and slimy.

It turned out to be a piece of wet white cloth.

'Am I...?' Thought the fox, examining the find. 'No, it can't be!'

Rising with a jerk, he looked at the corpse. Teeth marks were clearly visible on it's neck through the torn collar.

Realization of what had happened hit harder than the streams of scarlet liquid.

For several hours, Tails had been sitting against the wall with his head in his hands and not knowing what to do next. Confess? But how can you admit to such a thing? Just to say that for no reason at all he got his teeth into someone's throat?

Perhaps he would have sat there all day thinking about possible solutions if it hadn't been for the ringing of the doorbell followed by approaching footsteps.

It was necessary to act quickly.

After wiping himself on the blanket, Tails wrapped the cold body in it and pushed it under the bed with all possible speed for himself a second before the blue hedgehog entered the room.

"Are you feeling better already?" sight of a friend moving independently made Sonic smile involuntarily.

However, moments later, his expression changed to one of incomprehension. Looking around, he did not find anyone who had been present earlier.

"Where's the doctor?" Sonic asked, looking around.

It was only now that Tails noticed a few red drops on the floor. After taking a couple of steps in their direction, he imperceptibly wiped the footprints with his sock.

"Oh, he's gone! He gave me some medicine and left!"

'Gone to the next world' rang in his head.

Miles's memory flashed with torn weaves of muscle tissue and a bright scarlet trace of a terrible deed, from which he slightly twisted his expression, closed his eyes in an attempt to escape from reality and forget what he had seen earlier as soon as possible.

Noticing a sharp change in the fox's physiognomy, Sonic approached and put his hand on the shoulder that trembled from his touch.

"What's wrong?" he was crouching slightly, looking at the lowered red muzzle with the faintly shaking whiskers.

"I'm fine. I'm just still a little sick," Tails replied without looking up.

Suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket, a strong embrace took him by surprise.

"I really hope so, buddy. I don't want to find you lying unconscious on the floor again," Sonic said softly, almost in a whisper. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

Two-Tailed one felt the arms around him tighten even more. Hesitating, he reluctantly reciprocated the sudden action against himself. Slowly and carefully, he lowered his trembling fingers to the surface of the blue furr, as if was afraid to stain it with the drops of the deed that remained on him.

And yet, such an impact from a non-native, but much-needed brother helped Tails calm down a little and slightly clear his mind of the panic that clung to him with its incisors. Excitement faded into the background, giving moments of blissful peace. Measured pulse of the loving hedgehog equalized the frantic pounding of the fox's heart. For the first in a long time, he could finally feel like himself again, throwing the frustration and anxiety he had experienced into the back drawer of bad memories that disappear with the first rays of a new day.

Relief he received only made Miles cling tighter to the blue comforter.

But. Besides that, he felt... Something else, something from the outside. A pleasant fragrance emanating from a friend. He didn't remember ever noticing anything like this about Sonic, but now... It gradually enveloped Tails, penetrating through his nostrils, spreading in consciousness through receptors and clouding his mind with such pleasant sensations. But that wasn't enough for him.

Wanting more, Miles slowly opened a mouth full of sharpened teeth. Droplets of thick saliva were already forming on their edges. A little more and he will get a new portion of pleasure, taste this euphoria again. Just one small piece. And then one more. More and more.

His jaws had almost closed on the soft surface of the skin when the surging pleasure was dispersed by a distant, muffled sound.

"Tails, did you fall asleep?" echo of those words brought the fox back to the real world, releasing him from his trance state.

"What? I don't..." Tails was about to say something when he noticed translucent drops on the hedgehog's shoulder. From the realization of what he was going to do, the yellow one jumped slightly on the spot.

"N-no! I... I'm just a little tired" for the sake of verisimilitude, two-tail rubbed his eyes.

'What's gotten into me?! Miles thought.

For a few seconds, blue hedgehog just stared at Tails, as if trying to catch him in a lie. At least that's how fox were thinking. But in the end, prickly attributed yellow one strange behavior to simple malaise and poor health condition.

Okay, rest up, buddy," Sonic carefully put the fox back in bed "You need to gain strength and recover."

"Y-yes, I guess you're right." Two—tailed one did not argue and lay down in a relaxed manner despite his wildly beating heart.

"So..." blue hedgehog said thoughtfully "Where is your blanket?"

Unexpected question made Tails tense up even more.

"I-I took it away! It's too hot with it," yellow fox answered, trying to keep a calm voice "Besides, it was a little soaked with sweat."

"Apparently satisfied with the answer, Sonic exhaled sympathetically and kissed Tails on the forehead and headed for the exit.

"Get well, buddy," he said before leaving the room.

Tails continued to lie motionless until the sound of the front door closing reached his ears. Only when he heard it he could get out of bed thinking about what to do next. And although Miles almost gave himself away, appearance of the blue hedgehog convinced him that confessing to the deed was not an option. But then what is it? Now he knew the answer to that question.

A week has passed.

Everything gradually returned to normal, city continued its measured life, Sonic and his friends went about their own business, mustachioed villain, like those like him, did not declare themselves, giving many hope that everything would remain that way.