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HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES Official Thread 
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Puppy Wrangler
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Too bad, I liked Zach....

Wonder what they are up to? What is their endgame?

Great job, Valerio. I am loving this so far.

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Sat Apr 30, 2011 6:51 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
3.
Foster Mansion, Babylon Gardens

Sacrifice one life to save many others.
When you’re in a position of responsibility, you don’t want to make this choice, you do your best to avoid the very circumstances that would force you to choose.
But when your best is not enough, and are faced with this choice, and you don’t have time to reflect, instinct tells you to go for the sacrifice. It is simply a natural choice.
Ask Martin Foster to cut off his limbs, instead, when it came to animals.
Like now.
But what was the choice?
The shelter he was working so hard for? The dozens of innocents that had a right to a family after years of suffering?
Or the pets of Babylon Gardens?
“So, Foster human,” said the grim, deep, inhuman voice from the other end of the line. The voice of a nightmare come to haunt the community from a past that everyone hoped had remained buried. “Now I kill this bunny, then other precious pets will follow. Unless you open the shelter. One...”
“ALL RIGHT!” cried Martin in the headset, hoping that the monster had heard. Faced with this choice, he couldn’t sacrifice a single innocent. Especially Zachary Arbelt, who had tried to go help the ferals he felt responsible for, knowing what awaited him if he went alone. No, Zachary deserved to live. At any cost.
---
Babylon Gardens Temporary Shelter for the Abandoned and the Ferals

The killing blow didn’t come, but the monstrous striped grey Rottweiler mix kept his paw pressed again Zachary’s throat.
“Very good, human Foster. Open the gate, now.” The satisfaction in the creature’s voice sounded even creepier than its threats.
Evelyn was mesmerized by that monster’s coal-black eyes. His quadruped posture, his voice, his gaze... That wasn’t just an extremely dangerous dog, he was the incarnation of the most ancient human fears. A shadow somehow bound to the dark past of Whiteman House. A past that still struggled to kill, just like the ‘champions’ who passed through the arena of a long gone Pet Fight Club...
“Miss Sunman,” said Martin. “Now listen carefully and don’t discuss my orders: First, activate the speakerphone, so the dog can hear.”
“On the speakerphone,” said Evelyn to the dog.
Martin’s voice came clear to the canine ears. “Miss Sunman, give the order to turn off the power. Then open the shelter’s gate and leave it wide open. Keep away from the dog. Then if he’ll allow it, go help Zachary.”
“Boss...” Evelyn felt as if her heart was being ripped apart. But this wasn’t the time to criticize his decisions, especially not in front of that monster, or poor Zach... “Liam, go to the board. Turn off the power. Now.”
Liam, he too, divided as he was, nodded. He backed a few steps without stopping to stare at the monster, then turned and ran to do as he’d been told.
The dog seemed satisfied. He showed the tremendous joy of a predator ready to lash out. “You are a wise person, human Foster. I promise it won’t take long. Oh, and let the line open. You must hear the sounds of them dying.”
The warning light on top of the electrified fence went out. A moment later, the electric lock snapped and the gate opened.
The dog waited until the gate was completely open. He nodded slowly, and let go of Zachary. “A deal is a deal. Go to your pet friend, human Sunman. I’m busy.” The creature proceeded on all fours towards the shelter, the living embodiment of the most primitive feral. He knew Evelyn would do as she’d been told, thus becoming a hostage herself.
So pathetically foreseeable! Humans cared for their kin far more than for these hapless pets. Human Sunman would become quite precious for the next deal, after this pleasant task.
Evelyn wanted to run to help the rabbit, who now had fainted, but she just walked on without stopping to look at the beast in the eye. Part of her knew that this was not like the Killer Whale she had met before. These eyes showed both malice and intelligence. This creature knew what he was doing, and he felt a demonic pleasure. But, like that Killer Whale, this dog was just as brutal, built to kill, completely merciless. Evelyn knew that she was going to die the moment she had left the shelter. She could never defend herself or Zach, she could never outrun that beast.
But she owed it to Zachary, not to let him die alone…
The murderous dog didn’t even care to close the gate. He took his sweet time, searched the kennels and pet houses, one by one, sniffed the air.
He was looking for prey.
At least, Evelyn had a good idea to gather the guests on the far side from the entrance... For what it would help. Come on, children, try to flee! Why are you staying there?! Each step the monster took toward that section, the less chance there was to make it…
But of course, she knew the answer.
Panic. Who wanted to be the first to risk his life under the fangs of such a beast? How could you move a single step, when instinct told you that hiding would save you?
Of course, the moment the first blow was inflicted, panic would forced everyone to flee. The beast could kill as many as he wanted and mark the good deeds of Mr. Foster in blood. The shelter would be no more, temporary or new.
But why in God’s name? What have we done do you!?
Lost in those thoughts, Evelyn hadn’t even realized that something had gone wrong in the beast’s plans until she heard the sound of metal, wood and plastic being demolished, followed by monstrous roar that shook the air. ”WHERE ARE THEY?!”
The woman was still kneeling in the grass, clutching Zach, dabbing his bleeding ear with a handkerchief. And for some reason, at that moment she felt at peace. She smelled the flowers and the grass, the breeze was cool on her face, and the sun was not even hot.
It was a good day to die, after all.
And the beast was approaching her like a tiger ready to strike. The face was contorted in an unnatural fury, Evelyn had never seen such fangs in the mouth of an animal. “Where. Are. They? Their scent is fresh, it is everywhere, and they’re not here! You hadn’t the time to move them elsewhere. Where are they?
In answer… Evelyn Sunman smiled.
“What are you smiling for, human Sunman? You are about to die.”
“I smile because Mr. Foster has foreseen this contingency, and I was right to trust him. I smile, because human intelligence beat you, brute. I smile, because now I know that whatever you plan to do to me or Zach will be your last stunt. I know.”
The murderous dogs leaped at the woman. No finesse, no plans, no delays. He’d get his trophy anyway!
Evelyn hugged Zach tight, but didn’t give to the monster the satisfaction of looking away. In that endless split second that separated her from those spit-glossy jaws, she didn’t see her life passing before her eyes. She thought, instead, that the shelter was safe and that many innocents would find a nice family.
Thank you, Martin.
Then time went back to its flow. And there was a sort of explosion, when something collided with violence against the dog! The shockwave actually made her startle. All Evelyn could make out in those moments was a single bundle of fur rolling on the ground, snarling, growling, fangs snapping like bear traps.
Then the two combatants separated, and the woman saw that the animal that had just saved her was ”Antares!”
The Ukrainian ‘King of the Mountains’ pride of the Special Forces Alfa’s K9Us, was facing his enemy mirroring his feral posture, his eyes bloodshot. “Run to the shelter,” he said only.
The fearsome voice that Evelyn heard from the sweet puppy she had always known was more effective than a whiplash. She got up and ran to safety with the rabbit tightly held in her arms. As she got inside, she pulled the gate closed. ”The power, Liam! TURN ON THE POWER!”
The warning light on the fence was rekindled after a moment.
Evelyn stopped only enough to take the cordless. “Boss! Your plan worked! When are the police coming? Boss..?”
The line was still open.
And no one answered. “Martin, can you hear me? Please, come in!”
It was then, that Evelyn remembered there were two murderous dogs.
“Oh, Lord, no...” The woman was about to punch 911, when Zach began to tremble all over. With the worst timing ever, the shock, the bite wound’s infection, and blood loss were claiming their toll on the poor rabbit.
For a couple of seconds, Evelyn moved her gaze from the feverish creature to the phone. Then she ran to the infirmary. Once again, she had to put trust her boss. For what she knew, he had called the reinforcements already.

The two dogs were studying each other carefully, moving in circle, slowly, mirroring each other in their stance.
The murderous feral spoke in a monstrous growl. “So, it’s just you and I. And do you actually think you can beat me, you pampered mutt?”
Antares displayed a sneer of pure hatred. This was his first time in a fight for life, but he’d been trained for this, it was in his very blood. Every cell of his body screamed to release the might of the military dog. Show no mercy! “I was going to ask you the same thing, you coward. Are you ready to fight a [i]real[//i] opponent?”
In response, the feral charged with all the strength he had, his jaws wide open. His posture was perfect both for inflicting a serious wound and overwhelm the opponent with the sheer weight of his body. He had defeated cougars, with that tactic!
And that pampered mutt was imitating him. Hah! He had a nice surprise incoming...
Instead, at the last second, just a moment before the fatal collision, a fist of tremendous might hit the feral’s snout! The nose broke with a sharp sound. The most sensitive part of the face of a dog threw out a bolt of unimaginable pain! The beast’s thoughts became an incoherent bundle immersed in a red-hot star. The feral whined/howled, and rolled on the ground holding the injured organ. Blood trickled through his paws.
Antares stood up. “The benefits of knowing how to use your paws for something other than running, you coward,” he grinned. “Come on, get up! I’m not finished with you!”
The killer dog leaped at Antares, his anger now completely out of control. “Die die die DIE!” It was the only word that came out of his mouth, along with the bloody foam.
Antares was slammed to the ground, hard. He had his arm pressed against the enemy’s throat, while his jaws snapped at a frenetic pace in front of his face, almost with a metallic sound.
But those formidable weapons were also the perfect weak point. Antares snapped his head forward and his jaws closed in a steel vise around the already wounded snout.
The pain of the monster sounded in a new, long howl. Tissues and bones creaked again. The beast tried desperately to free himself, and in doing so managed to claw deeply at his opponent’s flank!
Training. The Foster dog ignored the wound, and he didn’t let go for fear of being wounded again.
Antares only needed the space for maneuver, to put an end to the fight!
Antares’s paws grabbed the beast by his arms. His legs went under his belly. “Play dead,” he whispered.
And with all his strength, The King of the Mountains threw the monster dog over himself.
In the direction of the electrified fence.

To his credit, when it happened, Dr. Stanwick didn’t look up while stitching up Zachary’s wound. The doctor could operate under enemy fire, and this situation was not too different.
Evelyn, however, looked away from the window, when the killer dog’s body hit the fence. She didn’t look, but she did hear the endless whine of an animal’s death. And for how much the beast deserved it, Evelyn felt a surge of pity for that grisly death.
It took almost two minutes, before the monster stopped fighting. Then the warning light went out.
The woman turned back to the doctor, questioning him with her eyes.
“Shock, mild infection, a couple of bad bruises, but no internal damage,” said the man, bandaging the ear. “Aside from this wound, he should be fine after some rest. Bring Antares in here, instead. And tell Liam to prepare extra rations, that boy surely deserves it,” he added with a smile.

Evelyn came out of the infirmary, just in time to see the guests of the shelter emerge… from the double bottoms of their kennels. “Is it over?” asked one of the kittens.
Evelyn nodded, dumbfounded. She didn’t know anything about that trick, Martin had been smart to prepare the special kennels. She should feel angry toward her boss, but the woman recalled that the man had a passion for Sun Tzu.
Deceive your friends, if you want to deceive your enemy.
And it had worked. Had the beast suspected, all would’ve been in vain. “It’s over,” Evelyn smiled. For what concerned the shelter, the crisis had passed ...
Police and ambulances were arriving.
Evelyn walked past the charred remains, without looking, ignoring the reek of burnt flesh. She cared only for the angel that had saved her. “Antares, oh my God, are you..?”
“Just a scratch,” he scoffed, keeping one foot pressed to his side. The ‘scratch’ looked as if four butcher’s knives had dug into his side, but he showed no sign of suffering. His stubby tail was wagging, and he had protected his friends and made Dad proud. He couldn’t be happier. “Are you all right?”
The woman hugged the majestic creature. And when Antares returned the gesture, she was amazed at how delicate that fighter could be. “Thank you. God, I thought that… that...” Then he regained control and whispered, “What about the other..?”
Responding with the same low whisper, Antares said, “It must be over for him too, by now. Count on it.”
---
Sandwich House

As the attack at the shelter was beginning, the second killer hound was taking care of an even more important target.
From the top floor, Peanut and Grape, as if it was a waking nightmare, were watching that monstrous dog, the snarling, black-striped grey feral, who was climbing the stairs, licking her bared teeth. The fragments of the main door lay behind the female assassin.
“You can run, little Sandwiches, but you can’t hide. Be good pets. It will end in an instant.”
---
Foster Mansion

Martin himself could not do anything at that moment.
He was out of the house. Alone. Disarmed. In the middle of the lawn. His face was an impassive mask. His voice devoid of emotion.
“Let’s end this here, then,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on the third of the killer dogs. The biggest of the pack, a pitch black male, who was waiting for just those words!

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Last edited by valerio on Wed May 04, 2011 8:05 am, edited 1 time in total.



Sun May 01, 2011 3:39 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
wow is all i can say I love how you did the action scenes they were awesome.

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Sun May 01, 2011 6:33 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
4.
Parker House, Babylon Gardens

Simon Parker had just been given valuable information, from the most unlikely of sources. And the details he had heard seemed too credible to be a macabre joke.
His puppy tended to act so… weird, sometimes, but his master also knew that Joey had never lied to his family, never. It was, after all, the best trait he had inherited along with his brother Fido... “Chief Norton? Look, we’re short on time. I discovered one important thing about those killer dogs who are keeping us under siege! My dog Joey told me, he’s got friends with good ears, okay?
“It’s not Pet Fighters, do you read me?! They’re the sons of the last female of the Whitemans! Yes, when the police cleared out that accursed arena for good, there was a litter of three pups, just newborn. The Whitemans had decided to start a new business, raising puppies born from PFC’s champions and selling them to other arenas. These guys are smart, not reptilian brutes!
“Their parents were put down, but not the cubs, not right away. And while the bureaucrats fought whether it was right or not to kill the pups, someone from PETA infiltrated the kennel, released the creatures, and faked the documents to make everyone believe euthanasia had been carried out... Yeah, and it seems that instinct drove those beasts back where they were born… What?”
Joey sat on the stairs. Squeak, his mouse friend, was sitting on his shoulder. She was out of breath from running to him and carrying the news received from Joseph-Boris Trotsky.
Joey saw his Dad become the color of chalk.
Simon felt himself wobble. “Where, did you say? Yes, I understand. I... I’m sorry for the inconvenience... No, never mind, my duty. Good luck.” He put down the phone and turned to Joey. The man approached him and sat down beside him then took the dog’s paw in his hand. “Joey... There is bad news.”
The poor dog swallowed. He was Fido’s youngest brother, but he wasn’t as brave. In fact, he was more scared now than ever. He hated to be so helpless…
“One of those dogs is here at the Gardens. At the Sandwich’s.”
---
Sandwich House

When Henry Milon had founded that Pet-Friendly community, he had included as a rule the ‘open door policy’. Pets could come and go wherever they wanted just by turning the handle.
The doors themselves were not the sturdiest of models. A burglar would have to be the biggest masochist to go visit a place filled with animals watching 24/7 in each and every building.
The house where Jill and Earl Sandwich lived together with their pets, Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly, was no exception, although it would take more than a kick to force the door open, like in the shows.
Those doors surely hadn’t been designed to withstand the impact of a monstrous 200 lbs Rottweiler mix, a mass of pure muscle selected and bred for a single task: to kill.
Until a moment ago, the most serious concern of the Sandwich family was the safety of the rabbit Zachary, who had fled into the woods to make sure that the cubs of the raccoons killed by these monsters were all right.
Now they had to fear for their lives!
“Mm-mm, Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich... And I’m so, sooo hungry...” said the black-striped grey female, moving slowly, on all fours like a stalking tiger.
Peanut and Grape had come to see what had produced that sudden noise like an explosion downstairs. And now they didn’t even have the courage to move a single muscle. That… thing was a Matagot, the bogeyman, a demon that had nothing to do with the thousands of years of evolution and cooperation that eventually produced man’s best friends.
That was the fruit of evil, the harbinger of death. And death spoke in a strangely… happy voice, like a gourmet contemplating the finest banquet. “You can run, little Sandwiches, but you can’t hide. Be good pets. It will end in an instant.”
And it was so close now. Peanut and Grape knew that if they tried to run, now, it would be of no use. That thing looked like it could leap over buildings!
“Stay away from my children!” The voice’s sound came together with the click of a cocking gun.
“Ohh, here’s daddy: good, I needed some ham.” Again, the female demon licked her teeth, not at all discouraged by the sight of the man aiming a shotgun at her.
Earl knew he had committed a grave mistake, he should’ve shot without warning, he knew what he was facing!
But now he wouldn’t hesitate. “Peanut. Grape. Go to your room. And you,” said to the female, without the slightest tremor in his voice, “stop where you are. At this distance, I’ve never missed a shot.” And that was true, his father was a hunter and had spent much time teaching Earl. Too bad Earl hadn’t inherited the attitude to kill…
“You know what? Me neither.”
To his credit, Earl shot.
The dog was faster. The bullet drew a line between the beast’s shoulders, but she didn’t even notice it. She hit him with the full weight of her body. From Earl Sandwich’s chest of came the ominous sound of broken bones!
The pain was terrible, but at least it seemed that the lung was not punctured. Earl used the rifle like a stick to keep those snapping jaws away from his face, but it was like trying to stop an avalanche. “Run…” he gasped.
From the doorway of their room, Peanut and Grape watched their direst fears become reality before their very eyes: the evil monster of their nightmares was bent over their Dad, ready to tear his throat out!
Jill was paralyzed as well. She didn’t know what to do, she hadn’t a weapon, she could only hope she could protect their children when Earl…
Then the unthinkable happened – and that was Earl’s salvation. The monstrous female could not possibly imagine that those pampered mutts could be a threat to her... That’s why her guard was lowered, when Peanut Butter Sandwich attacked her!
“LET HIM GO!” A sentence roared with unexpected strength by Peanut, everyone’s friend, the shy dog afraid to show others his comics, the merry doggie to whom Grape turned to quench her fears.
Peanut Butter covered with a single leap the distance between him and the female killer. And his teeth closed on her throat!
It was impossible to determine who was more surprised between Earl, Jill, or Grape. Part of her was exalted by the first real manifestation of the champion that her dog would become...
But, unfortunately, Peanut wasn’t an adult. His teeth could’ve hurt a peer in a fair fight, but for the evil female, those teeth were less than pinpricks.
The Rottweiler had only to shake her head to get rid of that annoying flea! Peanut was thrown back like a rag doll... and hit the wall with his head. His body went limp in an instant, he fell down and didn’t yowlp, didn’t move...
“PEANUT” No more caring about her own safety, Grape left the room and leaned over her beloved dog. “Nononono...” while their mother did the same.
Jill placed two fingers on the throat of her son. “He’s fine,” she said, trying to comfort Grape, but the nurse knew that Peanut had just suffered a serious head injury. He needed a CT scan, and quickly! “Grape, we...”
It was then that Grape Jelly did something that rationally she wouldn’t have attempted.
Her Dad was still in danger.
PEANUT WAS WOUNDED! Her Peanut, the first creature of this world to whom she had given her heart and soul! Her only reason to endure every pain and every obstacle!
At that moment, Grape was no longer a pet. Her hatred burned like a supernova. The world became a series of frozen frames. There were only her and the demon who had dared to hurt Peanut!
At that moment, both cat and Rottweiler wanted the same thing, with the same ardor.
Grape was faster.
Her claws dug four parallel lines into the monster’s left eye. It sounded like a bubble bursting. *Pop* it went.
The Rottweiler let out a monstrous howl of pain, as she arched back her head, tracing an arc with her blood.
Grape felt happy. The tiger in her wanted more blood, wanted to put an end to this madness! On the other hand, she must take care of Peanut...
“Grape!” The cat realized she was being called for some seconds. “Grape! Come, quick!”
The cat ran to her parents’ bedroom, while Jill carried Peanut. Before entering, she turned her eyes in time to see that Earl, standing on his feet, was trying to walk down the stairs, leaning on the handrail, holding his chest in pain. He was barely able to stand, in those conditions. He could only hope the monster would go after him, seeing him as the weaker member of enemy pack!
“WITCH!” Roared the female assassin, ignoring the man. The left side of her snout was a crimson mask. Her fangs were a row of white daggers. “I’ll eat your arm, for this!”
And at that moment, they heard a second shot! The Rottweiler mix was pushed forward as if she had been kicked by a horse... but she didn’t fall. Instead, with a growl that shook the walls of the house, she turned!
“I don’t think so,” said Janet Masterson, aiming her Beretta. “Eat lead.” And fired again, in a replay of the earlier scene. But Janet knew where to aim and had all intentions to kill. She emptied her magazine into that running monster.
The bullets had more or less the effect they would have had against a speeding locomotive. They penetrated the flesh in the chest, shoulders, dug a line in the skull, but that didn’t stop the deadly creature from crashing against her at full strength! Janet distinctly felt her left shoulder sprain as she fell to the ground, but she was more worried that she was about to be ripped apart.
At that moment, something rammed against the monster, and ripped one of her ears with a single bite!
“Ivan,” cried Janet. “No! Stay away!”
But Sergeant Ivan Danko was not willing to give the slightest heed to his companion of many adventures. She had been his partner since he was a puppy, they had taken care of each other every single day. And if that meant risking his life, now... well, he didn’t care!
The Doberman was like a pup in front of his enemy, but he stood his ground between her and Janet. “Help Earl, he must go to the hospital,” he growled, taking a step back towards the door. “Come on, coward. Are you afraid of the one who can bite you, eh?”
The murderous female was about to attack him, to make him swallow those words along with the rest of his face... Then she saw the police.
The remaining patrols of Babylon Gardens and their dogs had arrived. The moment she tried to leave the house, she’d de, either by gunfire or by bite. Even she couldn’t stand the combined fire and strength of those opponents.
The female exchanged a last look with the Doberman. She was panting like a bull. The wounds were beginning to weaken her, now. “I’m not done yet,” she whispered. Ignoring Earl, she turned and ran up the stairs, covering them with three thunderous leaps. If she had to die, she’d bring with her the true targets, first!
The police were running in. But it was already too late. Without stopping, the female threw herself against the door. The wood went to pieces like paper mache. “Time to sleep, little– ” her blinded eye didn’t see a golden object with sharp corners falling on her head.

The police arrived on the first floor in time to hear the blows follow one another with a grim cadence, accompanied by the hysterical screams of Jill Sandwich.
In time to see the woman let go of the bloody bronze statuette that was the prize Peanut had won at an exhibition for the most educated mixed breed pets.
They say ‘Hel hath no fury like a woman scorned’. Evidently, they had underestimated the anger of a mother intent on defending her young. Suddenly drained of all energies, Jill said to the police, “Peanut has a head injury. He must be hospitalized now, or I’ll crush your heads as well. Grape, I go with Dad, you go with Peanut, okay?”

The pets and their owners had gathered in a dense crowd around the Sandwich driveway, while the patients were being carried onto the ambulances.
When the ambulance left, Bino said, “Peanut can’t die. He just can’t, it’s not possi—” *Slap!* “Ouch!” he added, after Max had slapped him.
“Don’t even think about it.” The black cat was sheathing and unsheathing his claws. “He’ll make it. He’s too tough for a simple bump...” Then he heard what Chief Norton was saying to Agent Bill.
“... Found trace of the third?”
There was a third!?
“No. They offed one at the shelter, and this was the second...”
Max and Bino exchanged glances. “Martin ...”
---
Foster Mansion

“You are wise, human Foster. “I promise it won’t take long…”
The dog said something else, but at that point Martin wasn’t listening. He covered the phone with one hand. “Antares,” he said, “Run as fast as you can to the shelter. Kill that godforsaken beast. It’s an order, soldier.”
It was like having pressed a button. The dog nodded, grimly, and took off. If his Dad had given him such an order, it meant there was no other way out of this situation. And Antares hadn’t been trained to disobey a direct order.
“Every kennel has a double bottom,” said Martin. “I ordered the guests to hide quickly and not breathe if necessary, in case of emergency. I hope they obey, or it will be a massacre. Janet shouldn’t be long before she reaches the Sandwiches.”
“Do you think the second dog went there?” asked Aldebaran, who looked inpatient to join the action.
Martin nodded. “I’m sure of it. They want to hit me through those I most care about: the guests of the shelter, Peanut and Grape. And you.”
“This is why I stayed, right?” asked Aldebaran.
Again the man nodded. Followed by his pets, he walked to the main door.
“In the case the second dog decided to come here, right?”
Martin passed the threshold... and before his pets could stop him, he shut the door behind him!
“DAD!!”
A light door, composed of several layers of Kevlar and carbon fiber against a thick layer of manganese steel. It was the closest thing to an anti-bazooka defense he had installed.
While his sons uselessly punched against the door, Martin entered a code number into the electronic lock keypad, and then pressed the button ‘Armed’. All secondary doors closed, and steel plates slid down against the windows. Foster Mansion had become impenetrable by anything less than a tank.
The man leaned against the door, his face pressed close to the intercom. “I’m sorry, my beloved sons, Dad is sorry.”
“Dad,” cried Alcor. “Open the door! Come back inside, please!”
“I can’t,” replied the man, trying to hold back the tears. He stroked the door as if he could pet them. “There is a third dog, I’m sure. They counted on the fact that I would send Aldebaran to Peanut and Grape, to remove the last obstacle between them and me. I would have done it. And if they found the house closed, like now, they would’ve killed every pet in the Gardens, one by one, just to draw me out. I’m so sorry, children, but it must end here, it must end now, or other innocents will suffer. And I can’t allow it, just like I can’t permit you to expose yourselves to protect me.”
On the intercom’s screen, the white cat and dog were huddled against the arms of Aldebaran. They all had swollen eyes on frightened faces. “You are the most important thing in my life. I can’t face this thing knowing you’re in danger. Aldebaran, you and your brother are the men of the house now. Take care of your siblings, okay? The house is in panic mode: the lock will open automatically in an hour, or by punching in the dates of your adoptions, MDY, on this external keyboard. Aldebaran, you got everything?”
The black dog nodded. “We love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, my children” Martin turned off the intercom. He took a deep breath and turned toward the park.
He had never felt so vulnerable, looking at the green expanse. Never so scared.
But he wouldn’t give in to his fears. He walked through the park.
Until last night, he was convinced of having to pay for his sins, for the innocent lives of Helias, Honcho, Ringo... and for his brother, Joel. One selfish decision had destroyed four lives.
His sacrifice would be his atonement. Whatever happened, today, at least he was certain that the pets of Babylon Gardens and his shelter would be safe. His family would live on even without him. They’d inherit everything. He couldn’t help their pain and loss, but he could make sure they would live a good life.
“I’m here,” he said while holding his gaze straight ahead, his voice monotone. “I am alone. Disarmed. You have fifteen to twenty minutes before this place is filled with cops. You will never have a better opportunity. Show yourself.”
The nearby bushes rustled.
The dog emerged, a male specimen of terrifying size, big as a man. Pitch black, as if darkness itself had taken consistency. His eyes were as red as blood. Like his siblings, he proceeded on all fours like the regressed predator he was. Muscles rippled at each step, his bulk looked bulletproof. Even together, Antares and Aldebaran wouldn’t stand a chance against him. Martin was happy he had put his beloved ones at safe.
“Are you ready to die, human Foster?” If the voice of his brother was scary, this sounded like a graveyard had opened to let out the voice of its most restless soul.
“I am ready to do what I have to. But first I want you to promise that you’ll leave in peace, after you’re done.”
“Despite you not being in the condition to ask for anything, human Foster, that I can promise. We want you, the others are only collateral blood.”
“Why do you want me?”
The dog walked around the man. Martin didn’t move.
The beast sniffed the air. “You are not afraid.”
“I don’t fear you, and I don’t hate you,” said Martin. “I fear for those I love, and you have staked everything on that. You want me to die knowing that I’m helpless. At least, your siblings have failed, or they’d be here already to join the party.”
“Or maybe they’re already done and are waiting for me.”
Martin smirked. “And miss the fun? After all you did to come to this?” His gaze didn’t waver. “You survived through the years as a pack, as a whole. You wouldn’t split unless death did you part.”
The monster nodded. “You’re a good observer.” If the monster was worried for the others, he didn’t show it.
“Why? You studied me, watched me, you know who I am and what I’m doing. Why do you want to do this to me? I have not done anything, and would do you no harm... Although I’ll protect those for whom I am responsible, at any cost.”
“Revenge,” said the black monster.
Martin raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“Our parents died in this place. Countless animals have been sacrificed in the years to your lust for blood. And now you reopened it. Your claim to erase the past of Whiteman House is hypocritical.”
“What are you saying?” Martin wanted to scream, but his attention was focused on every little flexing of the canine muscles, waiting for the indication that would lead to the fatal leap...
“We hate you, human Foster. You, and all those stupid animals who think to bury the past so easily. With you all gone, your precious ‘Mansion’ will fall to ruin, no one will inhabit it. I’ll scatter your remains all around this property, to mark it as mine. No one will ever come again.”
Martin knew beyond doubt that there was no reasoning. This was his fate calling. He had avoided it for too long, now he could both amend and stop a threat to the community. His life was well worth it.
His face became an impassive mask. His voice devoid of emotion. “Let’s end this here, then,” said Martin Foster to a creature who wanted to hear just those words!
The dog jumped.
Martin stood.
Only one chance... Now!
The man’s left arm stretched out, slipping into the dog’s open mouth. And the hand into his throat!
The momentum pushed the dog against the human, both onto the ground, and Martin’s hand stuck even deeper into the dog’s throat. The gag reflex prevented the beast from closing his jaws against the limb that was invading his respiratory tract.
Martin clutched his hand against the trachea, and pulled with all his strength... And felt tissues giving…
At that point, panic and pain got the better of the mechanical reflexes. The black dog’s mouth shut with all its might.
Bones shattered like so many sticks. The muscles gave with a noise like torn paper. One bite to amputate Martin Foster of his arm.
Too late to undo the damage inflicted. The dog removed that piece of flesh from his mouth, but he was still choking. Even without that obstruction, his windpipe was crushed. His oxygen-starved body was demanding for fuel it couldn’t have anymore.
Martin had wrapped a piece of his shirt around the wound. In his eyes, the murderous beast looked… funny. He looked stunned at having discovered himself vulnerable, for failing. For something unexpected like a hand stuck in his throat. He had gagged on a mouthful!
And yet, the Rottweiler monster tried to get to his prey. He was wheezing and convulsing, but hatred still burned in his eyes, he couldn’t surrender, couldn’t...
A hand rested on his nose. A gentle touch, a caress. An unknown gesture for that dog. A stroke that made him forget, for a moment, that he was dying.
Martin Foster had crawled up to him. His face was pale due to the bleeding, the improvised bandage was completely soaked. The pain must be terrible... and yet, in his eyes there was no trace of anger. Only so much sadness. Sadness for a life destroyed at its very beginning, piety for a lost soul. “I’m sorry,” Martin whispered, weeping for the loser.
If the black dog wanted to say something, the best he could do was speak through his eyes to that strange human being. ‘I don’t fear you and I don’t hate you,’ he had said...
Then the man used his hand to close the dog’s eyes, gently. “Rest in peace now.”
And the heart of the last survivor to the horrors of Whiteman House stopped beating.
Martin smiled. It went well, after all... Oh, here comes the cavalry. About bloody time, heh… And please, turn off those sirens, I’m sleepy… so sleepy

SEASON I
Episode 10
FIN

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Last edited by valerio on Fri Jan 13, 2012 3:41 am, edited 2 times in total.



Sun May 01, 2011 10:20 am
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Great couple of updates, valerio. Peanut, Zach, and Martin Foster, huh? So much sadness. Your fanfic is good. I love it.

The action scenes were great as well. I can't wait to read the next part.

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Sun May 01, 2011 5:55 pm
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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
Duuuuude that was intense! There is so much amazingness my head may explode! Like I actually had to make popcorn for this man, no joke! You're amazing like that!

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Post Re: Valerio's translated fanfics
HOUSEPETS! THE SERIES
SEASON I
Episode 11 - Aftermath
Written by VALERIO (later revised by OBBL)

1.
“Unit 2 to Haichiko Mercy. Sara, call Veterinary Surgery, we have a patient in critical condition. Dog, male, five years. Impact head trauma. He’s unconscious, but sta–” The green-jacketed paramedic swore with a word that would’ve scared a sailor, when his patient started to have seizures! The man turned to the woman who was ventilating the dog. “The drill, Dani, now! And you, Tom, slow the heck down!”
There was a fourth presence in that section of the ambulance.
A female, lavender cat.
Grape Jelly Sandwich, the dog’s mate. Her hero who had just risked his life to save Dad’s. Peanut had attacked one of the last murderous Whiteman dogs, the monster that was going to kill Dad…
And the monster had just shrugged her neck. Like a doll, Peanut had been thrown against the wall.
Grape still remembered that horrible sound, when his head had hit the wall.
Peanut was just... broken. He had just stopped moving, but Mom had said he was fine, and now, and now...
Grape looked at what was happening. She saw the surgical drill puncture Peanut’s skull, saw the blood oozing from the wound. The doctors spoke of ‘intracranial pressure’, but it couldn’t be true. The one on the stretcher couldn’t be Peanut, he... he couldn’t be hurt, it was impossible! The worst thing that could happen to him was to be insulted by Bino! Peanut was just too good a dog to be… to be…
It was a dream, yes. A long, long bad dream. She’d just wake up, she must pinch herself a bit and she would wake, that’s it!
“Hey, girl, what are you doing?”
Grape looked curiously at the woman – Danielle, right? – as she held her paws gently. Why was she worried about her? Peanut was sick, right? Dream things were so weird, sometimes!
The woman turned the paws of the lavender cat, revealing the wounds she had inflicted to her palms with her claws. The woman took alcohol and gauze, and cleaned the wounds. The alcohol stung, but Grape took no notice. She didn’t even notice that she was sobbing the whole time, that her vision was blurred and her eyes were swollen and reddened. Her throat was sore; had she called him by name? She didn’t remember, didn’t remember anything.
She just wanted Peanut to be okay...
The ambulance’s door slammed open. The paramedics loaded Peanut Butter on the stretcher. The med stats that ran from mouth to mouth were an alien language for Grape. She just wanted to see him open his eyes, she just wanted to see him wagging his tail and hear him call her ‘Jellybelly’... That’s not much to ask, Lord, is it?
Then her thoughts, if possible, took a downward slope even more accelerated, when the stretcher stopped a step away from the operating room. The cardiac monitor was blurting out alarming sounds, doctor and nurses looked at each other scared, before reacting.
“Hyporeactive pupils,” said the doctor. And the monitor values were approaching the critical threshold.
“C’mon, champ, don’t you do this to us, don’t you dare,” said the veterinarian, ironically, the same woman who had visited him not long ago for the routine check-up and shot. Back then she had given Peanut the candy bowl. Now she was preparing the cardiac plates. “Charge to 150... Clear!”
A nurse pulled Grape away.
Peanut’s body arched with the first jolt... but it didn’t achieve the desired effect.
“Charge to 200... Clear!” again, to no avail. The monitor went flat line.
Grape smelled the terrible smell of burnt fur the reality of what was happening had become all too clear, and the monitor was telling her that the heart of the only creature in the world that she had ever loved had stopped!
Her anguish came as a long howl. This time the nurse struggled to hold her, while the doctor tried for the third time, before trying CPR… ”PEANUUUUUT!”
---
Chapel of the Canticle of the Order of Saint Anthony Abbot, Babylon Gardens. Three days after

The figure of Father William Ghetti examined with a sad gaze the three coffins lined up under the cross. An altar boy was spreading incense with a smooth motion of the thurible, another held the stoup.
The priest took the sprinkler, and with gentle movements he spread the holy water on the coffins.
“O Lord,” he said softly. “Please bless these three innocent souls, and welcome them unto your womb. In thy infinite mercy, forgive their sins in life, great and small may they have been, because for them the highest price hath been paid. Short were their lives. Grant them eternity, and a second chance to find peace. Amen.”
The man sat on the bench, while the officers took away the coffins. The altar boys retreated quietly as the small, empty church fell back into silence…
“A beautiful eulogy, father,” said a familiar corgi, sitting on the bench behind him. “If only they deserved it, I’d even shed a tear for them.”
The coffins were large, more fit for human beings instead of the monsters that had recently terrorized Babylon Gardens.
The priest turned and smiled to the small dog. “Coping with a loss is not our most difficult test, King. To forgive, is. And these creatures deserve our forgiveness just like any other sinner I have talked to and blessed.”
King had his own opinion on that matter, but he was fairly sure the priest would’ve exorcised him, after hearing it. It was Fox, sitting next to him, to give voice to those thoughts, although in less… explicit terms. In one word, actually. “Why?”
Father Ghetti sat down beside the silvery-furred husky. Stroking his head, he said, “They never had a choice, even before they were born. Even brother Wolf can teach us that we can choose good, civilization... But these creatures were… created. The miracle of life has been turned into a curse. They were victims, before being butchers. Also, I will respect the last thing Mr. Foster said. His last words were ‘Forgive them’.”
“Yeah,” King said, staring at the empty space where the coffins had been. “Great consolation for his pets, and even greater for Grape, or Zach...”
“Can I ask you one thing?”
“Shoot.”
“What would you do them?”
King threw a puzzled glance at the priest.
Father Ghetti was serious but not angry. He looked like a patient parent with a stubborn child. “Would you kill them again? Tear them to pieces? Curse them until your throat runs dry? And then start again? Would you feel better?”
King lowered his eyes and ears. He had started crying, and he hated it. Fox hugged him.
Resting his head on the husky’s chest, King said, “Why give them a service and a grave? The Pound cremates the strays to save on costs, and those poor creatures are innocents. What did these monsters do to deserve a service and a grave?”
Father Ghetti stroked King’s back. “When the time to pass comes, there are no merits, my child. If it is up to us to choose to build or destroy, use or waste our mortal lives, our Lord won’t grant them more suffering, after. That is why this Chapel has its own cemetery for these lost souls: To remind us of His gift of forgiveness.”
“Will you pray for them, then, Father?”
Ghetti smiled. “Every day they will be given a prayer and a flower. This they deserve.”
King looked at Fox, unable to imagine that in a previous life he wanted to make a feral out of him... “Sometimes I wish that humankind would disappear.” Ghetti was right, this pack of assassins had been sentenced when the Whitemans had decided to have a selected litter by the survivors of their Pet Fight Club. Feral or not, wolves were still sociable creatures, with strong family ties, and the ones that had joined the Equal Chance Program were cool in their own way.
These three mastiffs were death machines. Born to be, literally. And then the priest was right, they had paid the highest price for a nature that they didn’t choose to own. And it hadn’t been a clean end, either. What worse could one do to them?
King folded his hands and prayed for his brother, and for others that had fallen...
---
Haichiko Mercy Hospital

“Hey, mutt,” said Max The black cat was standing beside the bed where her Peanut was lying.
Looking at him, who would have said he was in a coma? Catheters and hydration/nourishment tubes aside, he wasn’t connected to a breathing machine. The bandage around his skull was thin – the head trauma turned out to be less serious than feared, he hadn’t needed an operated on his brain... yet, it had been enough to keep the poor dog in a coma.
He seemed to be sleeping.
“You really should wake up,” the cat continued to whisper. “Grape, without you, she’s dying, you know? We can barely get her to go grab a bite to eat at the cafeteria. She won’t go home, she’s not moving from here, she...” he sniffled. “We’re all down. Joey’s Club has become a sort of funeral home. Sasha is even sadder than when her dad abandoned her. Tarot shut herself in her room and refuses to talk. Sabrina isn’t faring better, but you know what? I don’t care about those people, Peanut. I care that you are fine, because if you’re good, Grape is good. I can’t stand to see her like this, withering day by day, so you just pretend that this is a Frank Capra movie and come out from wherever you are, you hear me? Do it for her.”
“Thank you,” whispered a voice behind him. Max almost had a heartattack, believing that Peanut’s ghost had materialized behind him! And to see a pair of luminescent eyes in the darkness of the room didn’t help Max for sure! Max let out a squeal of fright.
“It’s me, silly,” Grape said, coming to his side. “In other circumstances, I would have told you to shut up not to disturb him… But now I so wish he’d hear you and wake up. He’s not hearing me…” Her voice was weary, and depressed... Max was not exaggerating when he had described her conditions. Love could be a wonderful thing, but now it was like a parasite that was eating her inside. She hadn’t been giving herself a tongue-bath either, and if it hadn’t been for the collar she could’ve been easily mistaken for a stray.
Max patted her neck. “Heh, at least there’s some humor left in you...”
Grape’s face became angry. “Speaking of clubs, I guess that at least someone will be happy with what happened.”
It was clear what she had meant, but Max didn’t make the connection immediately.
“They’ll be throwing a huge party at the Good Old Dogs Club, now that the most embarrassing mutt in the Gardens is out of the game.”
“Grape, they aren’t...” Max tried, “Nobody is celebrating anything, at the Club. As a matter of fact, they keep in touch only to know how Peanut is doing. Bino looks like someone’s ripped his tongue–”
“Surely they didn’t care to pay visit, did they?”
Max hugged Grape. He didn’t do it with ulterior motives, there was nothing more than a sincere desire to comfort a dear friend, but he kept looking at the inert figure, as if any moment Peanut might open his eyes and ask mutely, with a stern look, how could Max take advantage of the situation to steal his girlfriend!
“Why are you shivering?” asked Grape.
He chuckled. “A malicious attempt to get your attention. You know me.” And he started purring.
And Peanut wasn’t looking at him with rancor, he didn’t know what was happening, as a matter of fact he was–
What the heck are you thinking, idiot?!
Peanut would not die. He’d be up and running soon, all happy, and Grape would be fine. We need you so much, mutt, so why do you keep on sleeping?
“As soon as he wakes up, you’ll see that Bino will come visit him to torment him. You know he can’t leave him alone, especially not after that picture trick.”
Grape kissed Max’s cheek. “What matters is that you’re here, alley cat. You were sweet to come.”
The lavender cat let herself be guided to the bed placed next Peanut’s. “Maxie?”
“Tell me.”
She lay down so to curl up next to the dog and hold his paw without knocking down the drip. “Thanks for everything. Peanut would not like that I was alone, at this juncture. I love you.”
Max nodded, and left the room. You don’t know how still much I love you, ma belle! This time, his eyes misted for himself. I’m sorry, Peanut.
Still, he wished that they would rip his very beating heart from his chest, rather than having Grape this way!
---
Ambrose House

“That darned idiot!”
Tarot brought a tray of biscuits to the guest who had so… effectively summed up the situation. “Swearing won’t be of help, Pete.”
The anthropomorphic blue-feathered griffin, looked ready to give another blow to the table he was sitting at, but the Pomeranian’s stern gaze of her emerald eyes kept him in place. “You’re right: a more direct intervention is in order. That idiot Foster and his ‘sacrifice’: The dark forces of Whiteman House were just waiting for his blood! At this rate, that ectoplasmic bomb will explode with all its might, and you and your girlfriend just sit here and waste energy!” He picked up a biscuit with honey and ginger and quickly shoved it in his beak. “Needs cinnamon.”
Tarot sat at the table. “I’m just learning to cook. What kind of action do you think is required?”
Second biscuit. “Just summon your food instead of wasting time. Smash-and-grab, and he’s out of the coma. Do I have to be any clearer?”
“Let’s give him more time. He’s strong, but he’s not used to that… environment.”
Pete looked like he wanted to throw fire from his eyes. Third biscuit. “Time is something we don’t have! It’s been seven days of this ‘coma’. If the dog dies, Babylon Gardens will be lost. These foolish mortals think they have solved the problem by killing those ferals. They have not yet figured out what’s in store for them. You and I must act now.”
Tarot lowered her head. “I guess you are right.” She really, really trusted Peanut. The spirits had chosen him, and had chosen well, but he wasn’t ready to face the otherworld so soon. She hated to concede to this jerk of a griffin, but she also would do everything to protect Peanut.
Whatever the risks.