A/N: warning: descriptions of violence

--

Jongdae’s first kill is a bird shifter.

Jongdae has him pinned - just wants to choke him, choke him until he goes unconscious, but he doesn’t account for his strength. His fingers go through the soft flesh of the boy’s throat, slicing blood vessels below. An arc of hot blood spurts, blinding Jongdae. He staggers backwards, stunned.

Through eyes misted with blood, Jongdae can see the boy’s body convulsing, limbs scraping the ground. He’s still trying to crawl towards Jongdae, but his limbs are losing strength rapidly, drained almost instantly by the geyser of blood soaking the stone floor.

Over the gurgling from his throat, Jongdae can hear twittering, made by his pursed lips.

He’s reaching for Jongdae, blaming him. Cursing him.

They say, kill a bird shifter, lose your wings.

Someone jumps Jongdae from behind. Jongdae panics, because he’s getting pushed to the floor, nearer and nearer the dying shifter.

He reaches behind him, and someone screams. Jongdae- his hands, his fingers, have sunk into someone’s leg. Jongdae yanks his hand away, face pressed to the stone floor, watching as the bird shifter crawls closer.

He rolls over, the shifter on his back loosening its grip. Jongdae tries to run, but it’s still holding on.

He reaches behind him, tearing another chunk of meat away. It screams and falls off Jongdae.

Jongdae runs for the walls, runs until he can’t run and he’s hidden in the darkest corner of the arena.

His fingernails have meat, clinging to them. Jongdae watches, as the bird shifter dies, and the racoon shifter is set upon by other shifters. They plunge hands, teeth, one bites, into the wound Jongdae made, in the racoon’s side.

It keeps screaming, shrilly. Jongdae can see the gruesome pink of its intestines; one of them takes it in his mouth, skitters backwards, tearing it out of the racoon shifter.

The rest of them close in, and Jongdae huddles in the corner, hands over his ears.

They come for Jongdae, the last two, flanking him. Circling, growling in unison.

Bear shifters.

Jongdae gets pinned down by one. He bites part of its arm off, blood soaking and flowing. The other one tears a piece of meat out of Jongdae’s shoulder. Is going to bite him, mouth gaping, blood and meat flying, but Jongdae bites, tearing off part of its nose.

Somehow he gets them off him; pushes one of them down and slams his head grimly into the concrete, like he’s watching someone else do it. His arm aches, from the impact.

He’s chased away by the other bear shifter – Jongdae can see the white of his nosebridge, bone sharp.

The other shifter’s silent, body jerking strangely on the ground.

It charges Jongdae – moves in closer and closer, and Jongdae has white noise in his ears.

It’s like a walking nightmare. It comes closer and closer keeps backing away, it won’t leave him alone and

and

Jongdae has to kill him. He feels the softness of his neck, the refusal of the bone to give, before he cracks it – twists it around, violently.

The wide eyes of the shifter stare at nothing, eyes bulging, bones in the nose and neck protruding through torn skin and meat. Jongdae drops it, stumbles backwards.

The crowd rises, all on their feet, an approving roar growing like the tide.

Jongdae doesn’t even touch himself, because it there’s blood everywhere and it seems it’s going to sink into his skin and eat him from inside out.

--

Kai washes Jongdae, himself. He cleans Jongdae’s face and locks Jongdae’s wrists into cuffs, to stop him from scratching at himself.

--

They break Jongdae’s ankle, later, to get him to open his mouth. Kai probes the tongue that Jongdae has almost bitten clean through, before fitting a ring gag back in again.

He’s still gentle, although his anger is clear.

“Why can’t you be this smart in the Pit?” He asks, clearly not expecting an answer.

They make Jongdae sit up, leaning forward so the blood doesn’t go down his throat and let him die, like he wants to.

There’s a doctor, who applies pressure to Jongdae’s tongue. Tears are flowing a steady stream from Jongdae’s eyes, because of the pain. He can’t twist out of Kai’s hold, but the doctor keeps holding a wad of cloth to his tongue.

“Will the medicine be faster, or will he die first?”

“It’s not a miracle pill,” the doctor says. “Let’s stop the bleeding first.”

So they stop the bleeding. Jongdae faints from the pain, and when he wakes, nothing has changed. The cloth is still wedged in his mouth, blood leaking from it.

They pour medicine down Jongdae’s throat; Kai does it steadily, making Jongdae work to keep up. It’s reflex, to not want to choke – reflex that Jongdae can’t stop.

Halfway, the blood starts leaking, again. Jongdae’s drinking it, coppery, together with the bitter, grass-like medicine.

It’s a relief, almost, when the cold sets back in.

Jongdae’s so weak, now. So full of pain, from his tongue, from the wounds. Exhausted.

He can’t survive this. He won’t.

--

Jongdae remembers huddling into Kai; Kai talking, snide, but hands gentle, hug warm.

--

When Jongdae wakes up again, he’s in his animal form.

“I like you better like this,” Kai says, pleased. He’s fondling Jongdae’s ears playfully, seated cross-legged on the bed, next to Jongdae.

It’s not a bad life. Kai brushes Jongdae’s fur, play-wrestles with him, lets him roam around the room and climb furniture. Jongdae gets food, and water.

It’s a few days later before Jongdae realizes what’s wrong.

The door had opened, and Jongdae had approached Kai, slinking across the floor to press his head against Kai’s leg.

The longer you stay in animal form, the less human you become. Everyone knows that, and now that Jongdae’s thinking, it’s clear how little he has been thinking, over the past few days.

Kai has the food set on the table. Usually, Jongdae will sit by his feet, and Kai will feed him, piece by piece.

Jongdae’s making a low, whining sound. He turns round and round, trying to change back, but he can’t. Something’s stopping him.

Kai waits until Jongdae’s exhausted and confused, before whistling. Jongdae’s ears twitch, eyes following Kai’s hand, as he flips a piece of raw meat to Jongdae.

Jongdae’s snatching it out of the air, swallowing in one gulp, before he knows what he’s doing.

This isn’t good. They had stories, back in their village, about shifters who turned feral. Who had to be put down, because they weren’t human. They didn’t have anything remotely human left in them, once they had spent enough time in their animal form.

Kai flips another piece, and Jongdae goes for it, feet skidding across the stone floor.

It’s not like he can stop himself.

--

“Does he look familiar?”

Chanyeol peers at the cat, confused. Yixing, the doctor who took care of Jongdae, goes an interesting shade of white-green.

“Yixing’s smart,” Kai praises. He tosses a piece of meat at Yixing, who catches it by reflex. Jongdae’s by his side in a flash, eagerly nosing at Yixing’s hand, trying to claw his way up Yixing.

Yixing throws the meat away, angry. Jongdae knows he is angry, but he doesn’t care – is jumping after food, tumbling over himself to get to it.

“How long has he been stuck like this?”

Kai whistles. Jongdae swishes his tail, considering. He peeks at the platter of meat beside Kai, and patters across the room, back to Kai.

Kai pats Jongdae, rewarding him with another piece of meat. Jongdae’s careful not to bite him – the last time he did, Kai had simply taken the food away, for a few days, leaving only water behind.

“You can’t treat someone like this,” Yixing says.

“He doesn’t mind.” Kai holds Jongdae’s jaw, slipping a thumb in between the yellowed teeth, over the rough cat’s tongue. “He’s happier like that.”

“Wait,” Chanyeol begins. “That’s a shifter?”

Kai turns Jongdae’s jaw from side to side. Jongdae bats his leg with a paw, leaving tiny lines of blood.

Kai laughs, unfazed. He shakes Jongdae’s jaw even harder, in return. Yixing’s hands are curling into fists.

“So all the training gear that you asked me to bring,” Chanyeol says, “is for a shifter?”

“I’ll be doing the training,” Kai says, happily.

“You trained hunting dogs, this is a cat shifter,” Chanyeol says. “Ethics aside… Will it even work? If it’s for your bet with Xiumin, that’s in a month. You don’t have the time, because you need to be at court.”

“The old man won’t give me land of my own, even after we won that war,” Kai says. “I don’t need to be at court. That’s not the field now – I’m not even allowed on that field now – the real battle is fought here, with those brothers of mine.”

“It’s just a bet,” Chanyeol says.

“The higher you are in the pack, the less you can let any dog eat before you,” Kai says. “Everyone’s a hungry mutt, watching for any signs of weakness. I lose, I have nothing to lose – anyone who rubs the loss in my face, I’ll set my dogs on them, people expect that – Xiumin loses, people will talk. Xiumin hates people talking. That’s his weakness, and as his brother, it’s my duty to tear a ing gaping hole in him because of that.”

“I’m just your lieutenant,” Chanyeol says. “What do I know.”

“Take it as a break,” Kai says. “Help me with the training.”

“Your subordinates have work, as well, if you haven’t realized.” Chanyeol says. “Your Pack won’t manage itself.”

“It’s my break, then,” Kai says. “I could think of worse places to be.”

“Have you thought about what this will do to him?” Yixing says, coldly.

“Have a heart,” Kai says, “I have a brain, even if it’s not as big as yours. Or Suho’s.”

“He’s a shifter,” Yixing says. “A person.”

“He kept trying to kill himself,” Kai says. “He’s happier this way. Look at him.”

“When he returns to human form,” Yixing says, “how is he going to survive?”

“I could keep him this way,” Kai says. “But the shifter faction would rise up against me, of course. Or I can hope that he’ll kill himself. Or, I can give him to you, Yixing, since you take in strays all the time.”

“I won’t do it.”

“You’re a good person,” Kai says, “I’ll keep making use of that, until you change.”

“You just don’t care,” Yixing says, as though he’s discovering something new.

“I do,” Kai says, “just not about this.”

Sensing the tension, Jongdae butts his head against Kai’s knee. Jumps onto the bench, stepping into Kai’s lap.

“His mind is gone,” Kai says. “I’m talking about making use of him, and he’s worried about me.” Jongdae’s shooting warning looks at Yixing now, threatening.

“It’s a dog-eat-dog world,” Kai says.

“You stupid cat,” Yixing says. Jongdae hisses at him, makes to pounce, but Kai grabs hold of his collar.

“No,” Kai says. Jongdae doesn’t listen, still straining against Kai’s hold.

Kai whistles, sharp, and Jongdae subsides, grudgingly. He noses at Kai’s hand, then attempts to climb over Kai’s shoulder, to the food.

Kai slaps his flank, shoving him off the bench . Jongdae falls over his own feet, then steps off the bench into empty air.

He slinks away, tail held high.

“If he was one of my dogs, I would – I would not even take him home,” Kai says, pointing at Jongdae. “Cat keeps treating me like a piece of furniture, or a food tray.”

“I don’t understand you,” Yixing says. Kai shrugs. “Your loss.”

Yixing turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him so hard Jongdae lifts his head enquiringly, from the nest he’s made from torn blankets in the corner of the room.

“Well, I should go,” Chanyeol says.

“Don’t,” Kai says. “Not you too. I need to start training the cat today.”

“You grew up with dogs, you can rear him better than I ever could,” Chanyeol lifts his hands peaceably.

“I thought we were never going to talk about that,” Kai says.

“That’s because you made sure that the loudest, noisiest people got cut up and fed to dogs, after the Emperor reinstated you as a member of the royal family.”

“I’m worried,” Kai says. “I wasn’t lying. This isn’t just a bet. This will be what determines if Xiumin will take me as a member of his faction.”

“But you told Yixing you wanted to embarrass Xiumin.”

“Look at who Xiumin has backing him,” Kai says. “Luhan. How could I go against Xiumin? I just need him to think that I’m going against him. So he starts considering whether he’ll destroy me – and you’ll make it clear, this month, that he can’t, not at a cost – or whether he can buy me over.”

“Why can’t you just approach him with an alliance?”

“Because my dear brother Suho might ruin me first,” Kai says. “I can’t look like I’m going towards Xiumin, Suho would convince the Emperor to strip me of my Pack, or he would simply talk to me until he finds a way to kill me and make it look like it was Xiumin. We’re not that important to either one of them, Xiumin or Suho – we just have to walk carefully between these two, until the war starts and I can finally make something of my own.”

“You always say you’re stupid,” Chanyeol says, ruefully. “But you scare me, sometimes, Kai.”

“I only know how to live with dogs,” Kai says. “Two alphas want to fight – you get out of the way, until you know who’s going to win. That’s what this is.”

“A dogfight,” Chanyeol says. “It’s always a dogfight, with you.”

“I can bark better than I can speak,” Kai says. “So, you’ll help me?”

Chanyeol glances at Jongdae. “What will you do, if he wins the fight?”

“I don’t know,” Kai says, drumming his fingers on the table. “Depends.”

“It really doesn’t matter, to you?”

“Does it, to you?”

“No,” Chanyeol has to admit. One less shifter makes no difference to him. He has his own battles to fight.

He wonders when he’s become so cold.

Kai gets to his feet, whistling for Jongdae.