Tanya's day started with a knock on the door. It didn't matter how old she got, waking up to a hearty wooden knock always teleported her back to being a teenager. She groaned, rubbing her eyes and stretching on the sofa. Her neck was stiff and her back tense. She tilted her head backwards and forwards to stretch it, squinting through the strange light in the shop. It jolted her to realise that the knock wasn't her mum. That reality didn't exist anymore. She'd normally call and tell her the funny story, but she couldn't.

The knock came again and Tanya sat up further.

"I'm comin', I'm comin'," she croaked.

The battlement hole beside her created a circle of light over one of her eyes and she held her hand up to shield herself. She could see all of the dust particles in the air from how bright it was. The shop had that strange gloom of closed windows, where a halo of light existed around everything that tried to block it.

Finally, her mind caught up with her. It would be Olena for the scavenging run.

She staggered over to the door and began shifting the cupboard to one side.

Ugh, this is way too much work for first thing.

Her body ached and she kept needing to blink the blur from her vision. With one more tug, she sidled around the cupboard and cracked the door, hoping that would be enough for Olena to squeeze through.

It wasn't just Olena.

The man was about 5 foot 7 with grey hair, large metal framed glasses and huge sticking out ears. He had that elderly skeletal shape but with a beer belly beneath his perfectly pressed button down shirt, and his shoulders were hunched over just at the top.

"I bring Boris!" Olena yelled, with jazz hands towards him.

Tanya absent-mindedly brushed down her crumpled top and raked a hand through her hair. It was partly conditioning from her mum and partly how put together he was.

He held a hand out. "Boris Ackerman," he offered, in a voice that sounded like a B-Grade David Attenborough.

This guy was so skinny that she could dropkick his spine in two, so she took his hand and shook it loosely. His grip was iron and she stared down at it with wide eyes.

"My apologies. I don't know my strength nowadays."

"Never apologise for a good handshake. That's what me dad used to say. Tanya Angelo," she replied, gripping back harder.

"Sound advice," his eyebrow twitched as he spoke, with a sparkle in his eye.

This guy should do children's TV… or be a Santa. Although he's not fat enough for Santa…

Tanya became very aware that she was stood blocking the doorway, and she backed up. The gap she'd left was a real squeeze.

Ah, shit. Manners.

She grabbed the bookcase and yanked with fervour and a strained smile. It felt like she was moving it so slowly and was incredibly aware of them both waiting for her. She tugged harder. All of her tiredness had faded into adrenaline. Strange how even in the apocalypse, it was still so nerve wracking meeting a friend of a friend.

He nodded in thanks as he walked past and looked around, peering through his glasses. All Tanya could see was the remaining stain across the wood, the missing planks, and the utter lack of meaningful light because of the barricade.

"Uh, yeah, it's a work in progress," she said.

"Beautiful design," he replied. He looked around with the awe of a musical theatre protagonist, hand traipsing along the scuffed edge of the counter. "I can imagine it in its heyday. My wife was a tattoo artist."

Tanya's breath caught in her throat. "She was—that's awesome!" She thought through it a little more. "Oh, I'm so, uh, sorry for your loss," she stammered.

He chuckled and waved one hand. It was exactly the same as how Olena did it which would have made her smile if she wasn't so mortified.

"She's alive. Ex-wife, I suppose I should say, although we never legally divorced."

"Oh," was all Tanya could muster. It's not like she could gush over how cool it was that his not-quite-wife was a tattoo artist with no clue how they broke up.

Olena skipped over and placed one hand on each of his shoulders, pulling him close. "First thing we have in common in garage. We both had break up and went on glow up arc together like in movie. We show those fuckers what they missing." She punched her free arm up and smouldered.

Boris adjusted his glasses. "I—I wouldn't go that far," he stammered.

She took his shoulders and turned him to face her. "Is okay Boris. I know you hiding your resentment that such a foxy foxy lady got away."

With Olena there was no way of knowing if this 'foxy foxy lady' was a sweet grandma who liked knitting or an absolute badass. Tanya imagined a few possible wives, but none of them quite matched the Disney-coded man in front of her.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Olena sighed happily. "It so hard to see the pretty ones go, but love to watch them leave." She made some purring noise that sounded like a drill raring up. "We find you new foxy foxy lady. Isn't that right, Tanya?"

Tanya was snapped out of her wondering.

"Oh, uh, sure," Tanya said, trying to hide her amusement.

Olena grabbed Boris' glasses and squinted through them. "See! We all see you're a catch. You do not need to mull over gorgeous lady in your past. She is gone now—we look forward. Always look forward, Boris." She plonked the glasses back on his head again, wonky.

He patted her arm and pulled away. "It was mutual, Olena."

She huffed and dramatically fell onto the sofa. "Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say."

One side of his mouth quirked upward. He carefully pulled off his glasses to clean her fingerprints off them. "You don't."

She wrinkled up her face and crossed her arms. "Of course not, I have standards and he was a dick."

Tanya snorted.

"I'm sure Tanya has better things to do than listen to either of our sob stories," Boris began.

Olena gasped and jumped up. "Like meet Fifi! You must meet Fifi, Tanya. She must meet her right, Boris. Right? Right?"

Tanya was utterly blown away by their strange dynamic. They felt like old friends or maybe even siblings, but Boris was at least twice Olena's age and no part of them went together in theory, or in practise.

"Uh, yeah, I could meet Fifi?" Tanya offered as Boris' eyes landed on her.

"She's more of an outdoor dog nowadays," Boris said as he ambled towards the door.

Tanya pulled on her boots, haphazardly tying the laces just enough that she wouldn't trip over them.

"Tanya, you going to love her. She a precious little shnookums," Olena insisted.

What even is today?

Tanya was incredibly confused, but also having a blast. It felt like she was dreaming. As the initial anxiety faded, she grew more and more tired again. She yawned and her eyes streamed. Then as Boris turned to face her she stifled it.

She walked outside, eyes on the pavement for whatever good boy or girl Boris was introducing to her. A howl brought her eyes upwards, down the street toward the remaining scaffolding.

It used to be a poodle. She could tell from how curly its fur was. The stereotypical pink ribbon was still around its neck, although now it was a Frankenstein of different ones, all stitched together to be able to fit around its humungous frame. Its meat-warped frame stalked on legs thicker than Tanya's. They thunderclapped onto the floor as it strained against the bending metal. Each muscle was thickened to the density of knotted rope, veins bulging beneath its still soft pampered pink curls. Each breath heaved its chest in and out, body rippling around the strain it was putting itself through in its desperation to run free. Its many eyes still held a glint of obedience, a trembling echo of "sit" or "good girl," but buried behind a cataract of hunger so bottomless it seemed to warp the air around it. When it howled, its jaw unhinged like a snake, then opened once again—two different layers of mouths, one where it should be and another just below its eyes.

Tanya gawped. If she wasn't being introduced to it, she'd have tried to kill it already.

"Are you not a dog person?" Boris asked casually—as if the absolute monster straining on the end of that leash wasn't hell incarnate. He didn't even budge as it flexed, pulling against the leash with its full 500-pound weight.

"Never seen a dog like it—her," Tanya corrected.

Boris hadn't slowed. He was still strolling towards it. Tanya followed a few steps behind.

"That's our Fifi for you. She was a gold ribbon show dog before this all started. Determined to do everything to the best of her ability, that's our girl."

Tanya stopped and held her breath as he got within murdering range. The beast didn't stop—it lunged over and over claws cleaving into him with the force but not leaving so much as a scratch. He didn't wobble or wince, just reach up and scratch behind her still puffy ears. The change was immediate. It thumped its back leg against the floor in pleasure, opening both fascets of its mouth and sticking its tongue out happily.

"Sorry, girl," he murmured. "Let's let you run free again."

Tanya began backing up, darting panicked expressions at Olena who was too busy cooing at the dog.

"Uh, is that a good idea?" Tanya ventured.

Before Boris could answer, the leash came free.

It detonated towards her, with bounding steps that pulsed at the ground. Tanya could feel the tremors in her teeth. The metal leash whipped through the air behind it, circling around this way and that and clattering against the ground and walls and anything else Fifi dragged it into. Her chest expanded mid-run, muscles ballooning with breath. It was like a landslide with intent.

Tanya stumbled backwards, arms flailing for purchase, a scream caught high in her throat. It was all teeth now—jaws peeled wide in a grotesque parody of joy, that twin mouth yawning open to swallow her twice.

And then—snap.

The leash yanked taut, not by metal, but by command. An invisible force stopped it mid-lunge like it had hit a wall, its neck wrenching sideways, legs scrabbling trenches into the concrete floor. It growled, the sound surprisingly normal. It was that low unhappy noise that Tanya's dog had made when it was little and you tried to take a bone off it.

It tugged harder, legs flailing in all directions, seeming like it's body was being held still rather than it being restrained fully. The pink ribbon fluttered around it. This close, she could see the frayed edges on one side and the teeth marks in the bow.

"Easy there girl," Boris said. He walked over, winding the metal chain around his arm as he walked over.

Tanya's breath stuttered in and out. Her feet wouldn't move.

Olena ran over, smiling. "She likes you!"

With each clank of spiralling metal, Boris grew nearer, until he was stood beside Fifi.

"Fifi, Tanya is a friend," he pointed at Fifi and then at Tanya. The beast looked back and forth between them with confusion. It sat and Tanya felt the ground quiver beneath them. Then its tail began wagging, back and forth in time with its head turning as it looked between Boris and Tanya.

Tanya could see the curiosity in its eyes. It turned its head this way and that and she could see small reflections of herself in the 5 eyes closest to her.

"Uh, hi there Fifi?" Tanya stammered, waving her hand.

It dropped to all fours, and Tanya winced, tensing all of her muscles again. Then it stuck its butt in the air and waggled like it was playing.

She looked at Boris and he nodded so she inched closer, one hand behind her back and the other held out, palm up. She hoped that would prove she wasn't a threat.

Fifi was so much bigger up close. At least 5 feet tall on all fours and even as it stretched like this, it was up to her waist. Her jaw was big enough to swallow a human head whole.

Olena nodded excitedly from the sidelines, arms shaking with tension by her chest and a huge grin. Boris was completely relaxed, eyebrows raised and smile welcoming.

Tanya ignored the overwhelming urge to run and placed her hand on the top of its head. She stayed there a second in shock and then wiggled her hand side to side.

Fifi's tongue lolled out of her mouth again, slipping between the skin fold of her main mouth and the one higher on her face.

The fur was soft beneath her fingers, conditioned, and the smell of flowers wafted off her. Tanya exhaled, letting her body relax.

"Holy shit," Tanya breathed. "The others have to meet her."

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.