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Dorian's Fitbit vibrated on his wrist every morning precisely at 5:00 (with the exception of Sundays- on Sundays he slept until 8:00). And then five minutes later the alarm clock on his bedside table would buzz. And then five minutes after that he'd have no choice but to get out of bed to shut off the alarm on his desk.

The dog woke with him, tail wagging, needing a pee.

He squished her beautiful face and kissed her big head and -a quick change of clothes later- the pair of them were out the door, Dorian hooking the leash to Murphy's collar as they made their way down the stairs.

There were a lot of things wrong with Destiny City. Crime was always high. Calls at the crisis center were constantly backlogged. People died a lot. But rent was cheap, and he'd been able to find an attractive apartment building near a park that was so eager for tenants that they did not fuss too much over his having a dog as large as Murphy. She was a brindle pitbull- a rescue with a pretty pink collar who took up most of Dorian's bed and often stole all the covers.

They ran together every morning. (Except on Sundays. On Sundays they ate waffles and watched cartoons together. The best chair was always claimed by the cat.)

The nature trails in the park near his apartment were tended well and often. Dorian knew because he was a part of a volunteer group that took care of the grounds - helping to cut the grass and gather litter. One time he'd even stumbled across a dead body that was later declared a homicide.

A thin layer of fog held the grounds hostage this morning. It made everything felt wet. Dorian was suddenly glad that he'd put on a second sweater before stepping outside.

"Alright, Murph," he grinned down at his favourite girl, who grinned right back up at him, "let's go."

There was something off about the park today. Something about the air - or the trees. He wasn't sure. They grew thick. So dense in some places that the park seemed almost a little forest at times. Animals lived in the branches and the bark and the roots. Murphy liked to chase the squirrels. Sometimes - when there was no one else around- Dorian would take her off the leash and let her sniff around as she pleased.

Today was not one of those days. Murphy was tense in a way that he had not known her to be since he'd brought her home. She stopped often along the path, ears upright, and did not seem to smile - the way that dogs did when they were so happy to be outside.

"What's wrong, Murph?"

He asked at the same time Jada jogged passed them, eyes lifting from the top of his dog's head to meet Jada's stare. He gazed back at her, surprised, and then went to collect whatever it was that she had dropped.

"Oh, um. Hey!" Dorian's voice cracked on the last word. He did not shout after beautiful women in the park. "You've dropped your keys!"

Murphy was well trained and well behaved. She would not have jumped at Jada on an ordinary day, but would have wagged her tail and smiled at her. Today she was not interested in Jada at all. Her attention was fixed on the trees; whole body tense. She had yet to start straining on her leash, but Dorian was concerned that she might try to take off on him and so looped the thick leather lead around his wrist twice more.

He suspected that she’d scented either a skunk or a porcupine. Certainly some kind of animal. It was a predictable hazard- when you walked your dog so close to nature, risks like that were to be expected. He crouched to his knees. Murmured something that was supposed to be comforting, long fingers of rubbing at her ears. He offered Jada her keys with the hand of his other arm without looking at her.

“I help keep the path clean,” he said, as if that explained why he’d found her keys. “But I saw these fall out of your pocket.”

Murphy exploded forwards, barking, muscles rolling visibly under sleek fur. She was broad and strong and pulled towards the trees with such force that Dorian ended up tasting the earth, chin grating against a couple of loose trail pebbles. He held fast to Murphy’s leash, fingers turning white, and his shoulder screamed.

The dog stopped straining, but did not relax. She remained at the edge of the path, tense as a warrior before battle, a low rumbling in her throat. Fear dropped like ice in Dorian’s belly. He trusted Murphy’s instincts more than his own.

“There’s something in there,” he said to Jada, getting -warily- to his feet.

Dorian opened his mouth to explain that his car was parked back at his apartment. That he didn't need to drive because he lived close by - when the thing that had caught Murphy's attentioned unfurled itself from the trees in a flash of teeth and smoke.

All of the blood drained from Dorian's face. He gazed past Jada at the thing, mouth falling open in horror, and almost lost his arm again when Murphy tried to launch herself at the... monster (because that was what it was, wasn't it?) that had crawled out of the belly of the woods. Its scream tore him open with fear, spit from the creature's mouth landed on his face and in his mouth and Dorian was so overcome with revulsion that he heaved up his breakfast on the ground.

The monster screamed again, jaws open wide, and stalked towards the trio on the path.

Murphy tried to put herself between both humans and the creature, teeth bared, a fierce growl rumbling out from the back of her throat. Dorian's whole heart was in that sound. He tried to yank her back, took hold of the leash with both hands this time.

"No, Murph, we've got to get out of here."

Something in the air next to him changed. Dorian had no magic of his own - didn't know what energy signatures were, and lacked the equipment necessarily with which to detect them, but he didn't need to be magical to feel Scylla. His eyes widened when she stepped around him, jaw clenched so tight there was a headache starting at the back of his head.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

"We can't just leave you here," Dorian murmured, though there was a part of him that wanted to. He felt ashamed of that piece, the taste of sick still in his mouth, memory carrying him back to a dirty living room from once upon a time ago.

'I told you I don't like weakness.'

It licked at his brain. Made Dorian wipe his mouth and start getting to his feet, whole body just wrecked from trying to hold Murphy back. His heart swelled with love for her at the same time he was swearing inwardly at himself for adopting such a tank of a dog.

Murphy was too preoccupied with the monster that had crawled out of the woods to listen - or be dazzled by - Scylla. Her lips pulled back in a snarl, shoulders lowering, powerful hindquarters launching her into the air at the same time the youma came for them. Dorian had to let her go - his grip on the leash was already tentative, his shoulder howling where she'd yanked it out of its socket. Murphy sank her teeth into the youma's calf mid-air, tried dragging it back to the ground, careless of her own safety.

Something was happening. Something was coming. Dorian could feel it in the earth under his chin; a rumbling from somewhere deep below, and which appeared, somehow, to echo out of the woman who'd rescued him. He swore under his breath, as in awe of her as he was terrified, and then the forest floor in front of them ripped asunder.

He had heard tales about the sort of magic and monsters that haunted Destiny City and had tried, as a matter of course and reason, to brush them off as urban legends. Stories teenagers told each other late at night for a good scare. But this was real - it was happening right in front of him, as Dorian watched Scylla with his sad green eyes, he could not say whether he was more frightened of her or the creature that had attacked them from the trees.

But Dorian harboured a healthy fear for all terrible and beautiful things, and it was clear to him that Scylla was both of those things.

He nodded when she turned back for him. Pushed himself off the ground with his good arm and, with the sort of pure fury that can only be born out of love and terror, roared at Murphy to heel and return to him. The dog -forced to the edge of the mass of earth by Scylla's flailing tentacles- looked back at her man, and then started limping back to him.

"Thank god," Dorian exhaled, scrambling to kiss her face and take up her leash again. He looked to Scylla. Wanted to ask her who she was. How'd she made the ground open up like that. But he didn't, because she was right. They needed to get the ******** out. He stared at her, eyes shining, traces of dirt still on his lips and chin, "thank you."