The air was thick with smoke. The smell of cigarettes mixed with alcohol and vomit seemed to tease my nose. Perhaps working at a bar wasn't the brightest idea I'd ever had. As the world knows having a job equals money, money equals buying useless shit people think they need, buying useless shit people think they need equals happiness. I snorted at the thought. People are getting money for fun while I work my ass off to barely survive a week.

I was living on Ramen Noodles every night. Mac n' Cheese was always a special dinner. I always skipped breakfast. It just always seemed wrong to have Ramen for the most important meal of the day.

Maybe that contributes to my size. Five foot tall 22 year old, and as feisty as a couch potato. But then again my size could be a result of my condition.

The bar was packed tonight. Men ranging from early twenties to late sixties were spread throughout the bar. Women were rare here, but rightfully so. The Dog House Bar was for the men who were kicked out of their own houses by their beloved for one dastardly deed or another. I always got kicks out the stupid reasons they were evicted from their homes. He said pretty instead of beautiful or that man had said hello to his sister-in-law. What the hell was ever wrong with that?

Like every bar we had regulars. Some came so often I wondered why they were not single. Al Timmerson was one of my favorites. I personally think he does horrible things in the eyes of his wife just to come here. Then again, maybe his wife is off her rockers.

Al always comes in around five then orders a beer and sits till nine. Nine is when he strides out the main door with new purpose only to return the next day sullen and ready for a repeat. My shift always starts at noon and ends at midnight. I glanced up at the digital 'We I.D. clock' for what it seemed like the millionth time tonight. 11:57. Three minutes till I was free.

My boss Frank, fitting my role, copied my move and glanced at me for what seemed the millionth time in the last ten minutes. "Oh, for God's sake Matty! You're free! Jus' leave I'll let ya' off a bit early."

"Gosh Frankie, you are soooo generous!" I said sarcastically and made my way as fast as possible out the door. Frankie had taken me under his wing when I arrived in New York five years ago. He was like a father albeit one of those 'go with the flow' kinda fathers. He taught me how to handle my condition. In fact it was one of the few things we had in common.

The freshly polluted air of New York greeted me with welcome arms. The sounds of the city sounded like music to my ears after the hours of men complaining and groaning about their wives and how stupid they were. My boots pounded heavily against the sidewalk. Any person with attuned ears would hear the weariness in my steps. Sharp eyes would notice the tired droop of my shoulders. But no one fit that profile here. The streets were crawling with druggies and drunken men all looking for attention, some of them waiting to strike at an unfortunate victim who was merely passing by.

Every once in a while I was one of those victims, till tables turned and they became mine. People underestimate small girls and end up getting their asses kicked. Sadly it was one of those nights, and I noticed the man the second I came out of the pub.

Tall, 6 foot 5, black hair, his eyes were so brown they were almost black. He was unusually pale suggesting he liked the indoors. But his easily seen muscles suggested he was a construction worker. He was mid-forties perhaps older. His intentions were made clear by the way he stared after me and 'stealthily' followed me.

I turned down the nearest alley and squished myself like gum to the brick wall. It took several moments before I heard the man's drunken steps and a couple more before he turned the corner. The second his face appeared I punched him in the nose as hard as I could. He stumbled backwards one had latching onto my wrist pulling me with him and the other clutching his gushing nose. The man's dark locks collided with the wall and he dropped heavily to the ground. I lost my footing and dropped like a stone onto his chest. A little creeped out I scrambled off his body and made my way uneasily out of the back way and onto the street.

I fiddled nervously with my necklace as my other side started pacing in my mind. I had a mini self-argument as my feet lead me down yet another abandoned alley. I decided that my other side needed exercise. I crouched in the darkest corner I could find and shifted.

Shifting was painful, it always was. Bones liquefied and solidified like cement, new places new shape. Muscles moved and changed positions. Ears grew larger, attach a tail, and throw a snout on. No, shifting into a dog was not a walk in a park, piece of cake, nor 'easy peezey lemon squeezey'. Yet as the pain becomes expected it becomes tolerable. It only takes me a moment to recover from the pain.

I padded over to a filthy puddle and lapped at the water. I glanced down at my warped reflection. I was a German shepherd. It was the reason I didn't shift very often. Germans shifters were rare, like finding an eel in a Minnesota pond.

I was small in this form, a doggy copy of human me. My more gray than green-blue eyes stood bright in contrast to my dark fur. I was ranging around fifty pounds, minimum for a female. I share many traits with her; curious, loyal, confident, courageous, intelligent, watchful, alert, and sadly obedience.

My thoughts faded when I heard an outraged yell from a block away. My curiosity got the better of me and I bolted to find out what was going on. I slowed my pace as I grew near to the alley in question, alertness was taking over. Ears pricked, paws light, eyes watchful, and nose hunting.

My eyes adjusted rapidly to the dim light of the brick encased alley. Four men came into view. The leader of the group was as easily distinguishable as the victim. Alpha, I decided to name him.

Alpha stood separately from his henchmen that held onto the victim. A silver knife was being tossed from one hand to another. He appeared to be average height but his hunch suggested he was taller. Blond hair, tired brown eyes, and smelt of smoke and wet dog. A shifting gang. I almost growled at the thought. He, no doubt, knew of shifters if not worked with them. It would explain the silver.

The victim was a different story. Despite being held against a wall by a couple of beefy men he still had an air of control. He was rich. His cologne danced around my nose along with a dash of oil and the distinct smell of the Dog House Bar. His black shoes glittered in the low light while his dark suit almost melted into the shadows of the alley. He had a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, the brand was escaping me something about planes or pilots. His crimson tie stood out against his chest almost like a target.

The henchmen were jeering at Mr. Rich who seemed to have a reply to every insult thrown at him. Alpha was taking his sweet time to get to the punch line though his demeanor screamed that he had very little time.

Finally Alpha pushed himself from the wall and glided to Mr. Rich his knife long forgotten. I wish I had popcorn. I watched with sick fascination as he stopped in front of Mr. Rich. Alpha got close enough to kiss his victim. I twitched my ears in sympathy of Rich who nose was probably damaged by Alpha's horrible breath. Alpha leaned to Rich's left ear and started talking but I only caught the tail end of his threat "... and now I'm going to kill you." It was said so calmly I did a double take.

Alpha drew the silver knife from his damaged boot and lifted his arm above his head poised to strike. "Any last words?" He sneered. Rich responded by spitting in his face. I had to give Alpha props for not even flinching as the spit landed on his face. I immediately docked points for not noticing a large dog launching at him.

I bit down hard on his hand making the knife clatter to the ground. His hand made a crunch noise as it gave to the pressure of my teeth. I almost winced in sympathy. Almost. Alpha screamed in pain and sat heavily against the nearest wall. I turned my back to him and faced the henchmen and growled barring my teeth. One of them ran like a bat out of hell while the other shoved Rich as hard as possible into the side if a dumpster. Rich fell to the floor in a heap, unconscious.

The henchman now equipped with his own knife propelled himself towards me. His knife caught the skin above my eye and I gripped his wrist firmly in my jowls. He abandoned the knife as blood dripped from his fore arm. He tried yanking his arm from my grip grunting and whimpering in pain. I shook his arm in response and growled. He obediently followed as I pulled him aggressively out if the alley. I let go and he ran with his arm pressed to his chest and throwing a few glances back, one of which resulted in him falling on his ass after running into one of many lampposts in the area. The post shook in its place and he got up and ran once again this time not looking back. If dogs could laugh I would be rolling on the floor with tears coming out of my eyes.

I padded back down the alley in search of Rich. One of my eyes was sealed shut with sticky blood from the cut above my eye. In spite if my injury finding Rich was none too hard. He was still slumped against the trash bin, the garbage canceling out the lovely smell if cologne. Hesitantly I licked his face hoping to get a reaction. I was rewarded with a grunt of confusion. He pushed himself into a sitting position and wiped off his face only to get a handful of slobber. His chocolate eyes opened and looked around thoughtfully before settling on me.

His eyes took all of me in. Blood covered snout, eye sealed shut, now matted fur maybe even missing a few chunks, and a paw held limply in the air. I regarded him back. His hair out of its perfectly gelled place, his sunglasses askew revealing a black eye, blood was mixing in his hair from his encounter with the dumpster. I caught glimpses of bruises beneath ripped sleeves. The henchmen must have ripped them with their rough handling.

I stood up and slowly walked to him, my tail strait and ears back. He flinch as my head neared his then chuckled as my tongue met his cheek. He pet me gently behind the ear and roughly grabbed my fur in his fists bringing my body onto his lap. I licked his face again tasting salt. I whimpered. Ew, sweat. He buried his face into my fur and hugged my body seeking comfort. He fisted his hands into my fur again and I noticed a glint to my right.

Knowing of the danger to come I struggled in Rich's grip but he held me stable. I continued to struggle as Alpha drew closer the silver knife held in his uninjured left hand. It wouldn't produce nearly as much power as his right hand but it would be enough. Alpha grew closer by the seconds and was ready to deploy his deadly strike like a snake. Too bad his ass didn't rattle. His nimble fingers gripped the hilt and he took aim. Rich didn't notice.

I struggled harder.

It would land right in Rich's heart, his- from what I could tell- pure glowing heart. Alpha's arm was tilted back ready to throw. I wiggled with more effort. He mockingly pointed at Rich's heart as if to take aim. Rich's fingers loosened on my fur. The knife was released from thin fingers. I gave up on breaking free and shoved Rich with all my might.

One grunt.

Two whooshes.

Three seconds.

Four blinks.

Rich grunted as his back was shoved to the ground. The air left his lungs with a whoosh just as the knife did Alpha's hand. Alpha rapidly blinked in surprise as his target disappeared and was replaced with a large angry, protective dog. His mouth open in a silent scream as my teeth imbedded themselves into his shoulder. Fury and adrenaline replaced my pain, I was an unstoppable force. The second I let go he let loose a girly scream and scrambled out if the alley. I barked angrily after him. It took three seconds.

Rich was gasping for lost air on the dirty ground. He didn't have a knife in him. I briefly wondered where the knife went. There was no way the sharp object missed both of us. I shook my head warily and padded to Rich my vision going fuzzy. I wouldn't be happy until I knew he was safe.

Rich struggled to a sitting position his eyes immediately landed on me. I walked right up to him. He looked concerned and afraid. I licked his hand and he ever so gently picked me up. A howl of pain ripped through my throat and echoed in the city. Found the knife.

The offending object was imbedded in my side. Potential punctured lung, definite blood loss. The crimson liquid was pooling on the man's white shirt matching the hue of his tie. I whimpered with each step he took, each one was jarring my wound. Maybe Alfa did succeed. He killed one of us.

Curiosity killed the cat-

As I slipped out of consciousness I only hoped that the second part of that saying stayed as true as the first.

-satisfaction brought it back.

I swam into the welcoming darkness and closed my eyes.

AN

RUNS AWAY "BE BACK IN A WEEK"