FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Mercenary is the first arc of The Underground series

Chapter 18 of 32

Echo From The Past

When the water hit Jenna, she swore she had died and went to heaven. It didn't feel like she was just taking a shower, but shedding layers of dirt and grime off her body. The warm water seem to spread throughout her body like a rejuvenating force that expanded even to the tips of her fingers. Leaning against the side of the shower, she let her eyes shut. She was so tired. All Jenna wanted to do was fall asleep. Even though she knew the dangers of what lay outside Alias's apartment, right here and now she felt safe and secure.

Jenna worked her paws through her long pale blue hair, separate from her fur. Running her fingers though her locks, she worked out tangles and grime that had found homes in her once straight and perfect hair. She turned around, letting the warm water cascade down her back. Then tipped her head back, washing the remaining shampoo out of her hair.

After a time had passed, she finally shut off the shower ending the ecstasy of the therapeutic water. In it's absence, the cold air found her quickly as Jenna grabbed her towel and began to dry herself off. Looking at herself in the mirror, noting how clean she looked as compared to about eight minutes ago. She grimaced involuntarily as she remembered what her clothes looked like; muddy, bloody, and ripped. However, when the vixen looked down, she saw a set of folded clothes next to her stained old set. Her brow furrowed. These weren't in here when she got into the shower, and what was weirder was that the brand was a women's designer. Jenna shrugged, as she could only guess these were meant for her.

Being cold Jenna wasted no time pulling on her new attire, which was much more appropriate. It happened to be a pair of brown cargo pants and a green long sleeved sweater. Just the feel of clean clothes on her newly washed fur made her feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Jenna finished drying her hair, and exited the bathroom, gathering her nasty old clothes up in her arms.

"Guess these are done for." Jenna announced walking into the kitchen and dumping her old clothes in the trash. "I guess I have you to thank for that." She said to Alias who was typing on a black laptop. "Just please tell me these didn't come out of your personal collection."

Alias looked up from his work. "No, I guessed at your size, then went down to the laundry room."

Jenna grabbed her sweater by the collar. "You ripped these off?"

Alias shrugged innocently, "I left a fifty."

A smile broke across Jenna's muzzle as her mind produced a mental image of Alias routing through dryers of women's clothes. "I can't believe you." She said, half amused at Alias's antics.

"Well, I mean I could always take them back if you don't-"

"No, these are fine!" Jenna quickly interjected. Taking a seat adjacent from Alias at the table, Jenna pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them. "What I meant to say was thanks." She corrected herself, smiling over at the black fox.

For a second, Alias looked up, and his green eyes met with her blue ones. It was hard to read the emotion they held within them, but it was different from any other time Jenna had looked into his eyes. It almost looked like Alias wanted to smile, but was confused by something.

"It was nothing." Alias grunted in reply to her thanks, breaking off his eye contact. He then focused his attention back to his computer.

Jenna looked around the kitchen. "Coffee almost done?" She asked, attempting to keep the conversation going.

"Getting there." Alias replied, this time not looking up from his computer.

Jenna took the hint that Alias wasn't in the conversational mood. Not that it was a problem for Jenna, but the difference between his mood and demeanor was confusing to her. He had raided someone's laundry to get her some clean clothes, but now it was like he didn't want anything to do with her. Given, Alias had saved her life on two occasions, and gotten her out of an awful predicament, but she hardly knew anything about her self-appointed savior. She looked over at the dark figure who was fiddling with a laptop computer. He was an enigma to her, intriguing, but nonetheless her savior was an enigma.

She allowed her feet to wander from the kitchen to the living room. Her eyes scanned the walls of the ancient apartment, wondering how much history could be told in these small rooms alone. If the white cement and plaster walls could talk what stories would they tell, and what could they possibly reveal about Alias. Would they tell her that he was always this way, that he had no name? Or perhaps would they tell a different story, one in which Alias was not his name and he was happy?

The living room wasn't a complete dump, but it wasn't exactly clean either. Newspapers, and other random magazines were scattered about the place. The television looked like a relic from the seventies, and was complete with huge knobs to change the channel. However, Jenna judged that by the amount of dust that had collected on it that it had very little use. Towards the back of the living room was another small bedroom with the door cracked open. Letting her curiosity get the best of her, Jenna, extended her paw out and let her fingers wrap around the metallic handle. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure Alias hadn't sneaked up behind her, she slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open.

Jenna was taken aback when her eyes adjusted to the darkness. It wasn't a guest room at all; she wouldn't even consider it an office. To the back of the room was a large metal office desk, again retro from a few decades ago. Feeling brave, she ventured onward to the desk to examine its contents. Her blue eyes scanned the items, which to her surprise turned out to be art supplies. There were sheets of paper, pencils, charcoal, everything that one could need to create a work of art.

Her paw brushed against one of the sketches. Gently grasping it, she lifted the sketch up to the light to see what Alias apparently did with his spare time. Jenna's eyes were not prepared for what she saw. It wasn't gothic, or gory, or amateur at all. The lines that Alias had drawn created the closest she had ever seen to reality reproduced on paper. It was beautiful, and whoever the subject was also beautiful.

She was a female zebra, from what Jenna could comprehend. She was sitting on the ground body turned away. But she was turned around looking back over her shoulder at Jenna; not the unknown horizon. Her body, clothes, and hair were all drawn with the greatest of care. Ever line of detail was done just enough to make it seem as if Jenna should talk to her. To say the least it was impressive; something she didn't expect Alias to have taken the time to draw.

Looking back to the piles of sketch work, Jenna noticed that there were many similar sketches of this girl in various poses. Jenna silently sorted though the media and found more and more of the same zebra. She couldn't help but to wonder who this girl was, and why Alias had taken so much care to create such beautiful works of art of her only. Looking up, Jenna noticed that some of the papers were posted along the walls. Again, the all of the same female. Different poses, but it was plane to see it was the same girl.

"You weren't supposed to see this."

Jenna jumped and dropped the sketch in her paw. The paper seemed to make a deafening crash as it landed on the floor. She turned to face Alias, standing in the doorway.

Trying to think of something, Jenna fumbled for words. There wasn't any excuse she could give to Alias for being in here. They both knew she was in the wrong. But the black fox didn't seem to be angered.

Jenna swallowed. "Who is she?"

Alias walked over to her and crouched down to retrieve the fallen sketch. "That," he started, "is complicated."

Immediately, Jenna felt guilty about her intrusion into Alias's personal space. "I'm sorry." She apologized. "I knew I shouldn't, but it just got the best of me." Alias placed the sketch back in its proper place, and organized the sketches that Jenna had disturbed. "The only reason I ask," Jenna continued, "is because, well, they're beautiful works, and it must have taken a lot of time to create." Alias brushed past Jenna, walking to the bedroom door, not saying a word. "It just must have meant a lot to you. You have so many of these..."

Alias stopped, but didn't turn around. He seemed to stand there for what seemed like hours on end. "This isn't all..." The fox finally spoke. "There's more...in that closet..." he pointed to the closet next to the desk. "Also more under my bed..."

Feeling like she was walking on thin ice, Jenna carefully stepped forward towards Alias. "Who is she?"

Alias dropped his head and ran his paws through his hair. He seemed to be struggling with some inner demon that was eating at him and had been for some time. It was something that clearly he did not want to expose to the rest of the world.

"I don't know..." He let his paws drop to his sides with a flop. His voice, normally strong and firm, now held a fragile quality to it. "I see her, when I sleep, when I think. I don't know who she is, but it haunts me...all day." He walked over to one of the sketches on the wall. "I feel like I've been stolen from myself." His paw traced over the zebra's face gently. "I feel like if I can draw her, I might finally remember. It's been tearing me apart."

"Alias..." Jenna spoke in a soft tone and extended her paw to his shoulder, "what did they do to you?" She let her fingers gently make contact with him.

His shoulders jerked in a spastic involuntarily fashion from being touched. Jenna quickly retracted her paw. Alias's breathing had become heavy and choppy as he looked upon the zebra.

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I've been a mercenary for as long as I can remember." Alias slowly turned around to face Jenna, however his eyes were fixed on the dark floor and away from the blue vixen. "There are vespers...images really. It's like what you would see in a dream when there's that line between fantasy and reality." He drew in a deep breath and stepped next to her so that they were standing shoulder to shoulder. "This is what I am because it is truly all I know." He explained, his voice regaining its former strength. Jenna's face fell, she could sense that he was retreating back to his shell of isolation. "I am Alias because I am a mystery to myself as well as others. It's more than just a pun, it's who I am." He paused. "It's all I'll ever be."

Jenna let her paw graze against his forearm. "Alias..." She started, her voice offered comfort in its rhythmic quality. "I-"

However before she could continue there was a shrill beep coming from out side the room. Alias's ears pricked up and his head darted to the doorway. The beeping continued as Alias walked to the door. He paused in the door and looked back to Jenna. "Coffee." He said, and disappeared.