Nature of the Mouthless, Chapter Ficnap- Savages

This was an absolute blast to do! I absolutely loved doing this ficnap! You *WILL* read  [the original story ](https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1ddv4pj/nature\_of\_the\_mouthless/?utm\_source=share&utm\_medium=web3x&utm\_name=web3xcss&utm\_term=1&utm\_content=share\_button) If you’re curious to what I write/how The Moss got napped, [Here is the link](https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/comments/1i1t0hk/the_moss_ficnapped/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button)

I apologize to u/Obesity-Won-Kenobi for a cowards way out, introducing a plot point rather than continuing an existing one. I left some things vague, but if I had to make a decision it would never get done :P.Just an itch that I felt needed to be scratched. Anyways, enjoy my trademark B+ writing!

This is my least favorite part of the day. The ride to work fills me with more dread than any soul should have to bear. The walk to the door that seems like it never ends. Ugh. The door. I can't stand the sight of this stupid door. I can already feel the dread creeping up my spine as the door inches closer, despite my attempts to blow up the building with my mind. Then I wouldn't have to work at this money sink of a business. That or some rich asshole buys it from me for whatever reason.

Yeah. That could totally happen. Maybe I *do* live in a movie and just didn't know it? Yeah. Fat chance. If I lived in a movie I wouldn't be walking through these stupid ass doors again to stress and despair. That and the actual *work* at my job. Yeah, working at a job. Big surprise. Man I almost would incur an arxur raid just have the day off from this stupid, *stupid* place. 

Unfortunately, after an eternity that’s cut way too short, I reach the door to the Cold House. As I go to unlock it I manage to drop my keys, a bonus on top of the tragedy that is arriving here. They just slipped out of my hand, as if they decided they were too good to be held by me. Maybe the keys are right.

*You aren't the right person for us.* They try to console me, half hearted since they know I don't buy it. *It’s just, we imagined more for ourselves at this point in our lives. We imagined we’d be with someone… happier. More put together as it were.*

I try not to let their made up words get to me. I choke back a cry as I stare unmoving at the dropped keys, lying motionless on the ground as if expecting me to make the first move. Which is right of them. After all, they’re just keys. Just keys. And if I pick them up, I can go and clock in to work at my job. 

*Which you hate.* They ever so eloquently remind me. Thanks, just what I needed. Whatever. I don’t need some stupid inanimate object telling me what I already know.

I grab the keys and ignore the fact they almost made me cry, as I use them to unlock the door so I could subject myself to the longest claw I’ve ever had to experience. Again. Just like they will tomorrow. Again. Why can’t I just have *one* stroke of luck? Honestly at this point I’d blow up half the Federation for a few vacation days. Unfortunately for me it doesn't seem to be in the song the stars sing for me. Unless someone decides to freeze a few antimatter bombs in cold storage that doesn't seem to be a possibility.

As I walk in and through the Corridors of Misery, I see possibly the three worst people to ever exist. As much as I would *love* to avoid them, they are unfortunately the three people I manage over to make sure everything runs smoothly. Well, as smoothly as they can make it. Sandpaper is smooth, right? I make my way to my office and try to ignore them as best I can, but I made the grave mistake of having ears.

“So, then he grabbed the marker that *I* needed!”

“What a brahkass, that was definitely a sly move.”

“Are you gonna call a PD place or something? That’s pretty messed up.”

“No, I think I’ll wait till I can get something *really* juicy on them. You know, since it won’t be long before their taint becomes obvious.”

Idiots. All of them. I bet the floor has more intelligence than the three of them put together. Whatever. It’s just more stupid drama that goes nowhere. Luckily I’m their boss, so if they want to gossip around me I always have the option of making them work, which is a perfect deterrent for those lazy bums. It’s a shame I can't fire them and hire some *actual* workers. Is *this* gossip? I mean, it’s to nobody so I doubt it. Whatever. I’m almost at the point of no return. The most dreaded area in this whole building.

My office. My office with the paperwork I need to fill out. The office where I give discipline reports. The office where I get orders from my boss. The office where I spend hours and hours mindlessly crunching numbers and making projections. The office where I hear the brAHCKING PHONE ALREADY RINGING!

Of course, I don’t *technically* start for a little bit. I could let it ring. It’ll stop eventually after all. Nobody is around to notice, so it wouldn’t matter too much. The phone isn't going anywhere, and neither is the caller. I’m a bit early so I can afford one missed call. I’ll just delete the call from the history so it doesn't ruin the otherwise perfect record. Nobody would see the smudge. It would be neat and orderly again. Only I would know I caused someone to wait because of my own laziness, nobody else would have ever guessed. It's not like it'd be a crime to *not* answer the ph-

“Thank you for calling Cruna Storage Solutions this is-”

I am interrupted by an automated voice suddenly blaring in my ear, “Congratulations! You’ve been pre-selected to receive an exclusive, once-in-a-lifetime offer! We’re calling from Premium Rewards Center, where you’ve just unlocked access to a FREE luxu-”

Great. A whole load of nothing. Secure line my ass. If the three idiots didn't make so many outgoing calls this would be a secure network. But *noOoOoOo* you just *have* to tell your sister about who you caught on their data pad at work instead of taking inventory. As if you don't do the exact same thing when you have to check the gauge readings. Ugh. I hate this place. I need *something* to give me an edge so I can move up. Or leave. Leaving this place so I wouldn’t have to deal with all these idiots would be nice.

I hang up the phone, almost muttering in my quiet hate. I'll just waste some time screwing around. Not like they do enough around here to give me anything to do at the start anyway. Speh, what was my password? Oh yeah, Cruna! So easy to remember, probably the one thing that brings me comfort here. The one thing that makes things easy. I’ll just play a quick game of-

The company's messaging program opens without my input. *That's odd.* I attempt to open my game again. And again. Each time the messaging program opened up instead of the game. I attempt to open anything else. Spreadsheets, day planners, images, even the settings all open to the messaging service. I even try to reset the whole computer and nothing. Brahking thing must be busted. Can’t even get good computers anymore. Whatever, I’ll just check the messages since that's all I can do.

…

Aaaaand none of the messages open up. Great. Not a huge loss all things considered. Mostly jargon filled reports from people who have never stepped foot in here. A few inventory updates. New shipments. All boring and unopenable. That is until I find a new order confirmation. *I don’t remember seeing this company in the logs before.* I doubt it, but a part of me wonders if…

It opens.

**Subject: Thank You for Partnering with LearSpecSilo**

Dear Cruna Storage Solutions Team,

On behalf of LearSpecSilo, I want to extend our sincere thanks for accepting us as a valued customer. We are excited to entrust your team with our storage needs, knowing your expertise and discretion are unmatched in the industry.

As discussed, the materials we will store require the highest level of confidentiality and secure handling. We greatly appreciate your willingness to accommodate our specific requirements, ensuring that all access and oversight remain in line with the agreed protocols.

We look forward to a successful and seamless partnership.

Thank you once again for your professionalism and support.

Best regards, LearSpecSilo

What? I haven’t heard about any of this. There’s no way this went under my nose long enough to go through? Maybe some big shot paid someone off to have some freak predatory collection stored. That’d be a laugh. I’ll need to find out where this company is from first, if only to satisfy my curiosity. Somethings up, and I bet it has to do with the lazy idiots who can’t tell their tails from a fence post. Opening the email didn’t do much to help the other technical problems, so I’d have to do some guess work of my own. From the way it sounds it seems like the shipment is already here. And without me hearing a thing about it from anybody, it must've simply manifested out of nowhere.

Maybe the problem and the email are connected? I’ll have to check on my boss's computer. This wouldn't be the first or last time some bizarre issue came up, especially recently, so he wouldn’t mind me using it a little bit. As I leave my own office, I overhear yet more conversation from the three people who make my life a constant arxur raid.

“...-did you say back?”

“Oh nothing. I just left the tools right there next to her. Slammed them down good too.”

“As you should! It’s her fault you had to pull double shifts last week.”

“I know! Honestly she makes my life so much harder than it needs to be.”

I can feel my brain pouring out my ears. Each and every neuron is melting into slush with every word that comes out of their mouths. She didn’t even *do* overtime! She “forgot” and left me to do all the work! Well, I got the overtime pay anyway so whatever. Even then that's not enough to justify this stupid job. What I wouldn't give so I had *something* to make things better. Or at the least more interesting. That’s probably why I’m focusing on this instead of starting the day properly. Not like doing a regular start does much, nothing ever gets done till the work claw is half over anyway.

The only thing more nauseating than the stupid in the air is the sound of the refrigeration units I’m subjected to on the way to my bosses office. The dull hum never bothered me at first, it was just some background noise after all. However, the longer I worked here the more the noise became a vomit inducing drone that sucked all the life and soul out of my very being. I can’t imagine a worse agony than this. Especially since I’m very certain this LearSpecSilo speh is gonna mandate me to work overtime. Whatever LearSpecSilo has better be worth it.

I make it to my bosses office and punch in the code to enter. Nothing seems unusual at first glance. I take note of everything as I go in. They have the same amount of mess, but with a manageable amount of organization. Notes and reminders littered around. Despite everything seeming normal, a sudden sense of dread crawls down my spine and into my tail. Why now? Maybe I’m worrying too much. The claw only just started and I’m already dreaming of my sweet, sweet bed at home.

Swallowing my unearned fear, I make it to my boss's computer and start my digging. Whatever issue my computer seems to be having their computer seems to be immune to. The first thing I check is the arrival logs, which show no record of any company called LearSpecSilo anywhere. Not only that, a peak of the emails shows that they never even talked before. *This makes absolutely no sense.* I check in a ton of other places and nothing. Why did I even get an email? Maybe it was a mistake? A premade thing just in case they needed it but sent accidentally? I was about to give up when I saw a small little detail.

LearSpecSilo showed up in our current housing logs. They are in fact here. In one of the most remote areas in the faculty.

**[Transcription Skip: 4 Hours]**

The day and duty calls despite my nagging curiosity. Nothing new happens of course. Gossip. Drama. Wishing a few people would explode. Wishing I would explode. Wishing someone other than me would do their job. I would say I hate this place, but that's not entirely true. Loath and contempt are much more accurate. Even though everyone is gone, the pain they bring still lingers in the air. Like that hum that's sounded different ever since I did my small investigation. I always liked to think I had good intuition, and it was telling me something was up. I hope it was just some sicko collection of things a PD patient would collect.

Despite my better judgment, I make the trek to the storage where LeatSpecSilo supposedly exists. I hadn’t planned on it, but I found myself already on my way while doing my normal routine. As I keep going, I can't help but let that dreadful, nauseating hum shake my skull. It’s not even that loud, but the connotations of the refrigeration hum is all too powerful in my mind. I start to focus on the new emotion the sound starts to bring to me: fear.

I can’t explain it, but things felt distorted as I kept moving forward, slowly feeling every part of me tense up in anticipation, mind running wild with ideas. Recent events of that predatory machine come to the forefront of my mind. I don’t know what a death machine built by predators would want to store, but it was probably grotesque or horrifying. I need to stop watching the news, it’s definitely making this a million times worse. It’s most likely just a horrible clerical error and nothing more.

I make it to the storage room after a long drawn out eternity. I just stare at it. Then some more. It’s here. What I tortured myself a whole claw for. I just have to use my key card and open it. Why is this so hard? Even in the circumstance it's still just storage. I do this a million times a day, a million things go wrong all the time. This shouldn't be so hard... Or scary… Or daunting. I’ve worked here too long. I'm going to open it, and it'll be empty. Nothing at all will be in there. My imagination just went rogue today, that's all. Then next work claw I’ll go back to worrying about the regular people who make want to explode this place with enough atom bombs to crack a planet in half.

The storage being filled seems like the better option now.

With my newfound resolve I open the door to the chilled room. These things are really kept cold. Checking the paperwork, it’s technically within the parameters for the room but not under consistent circumstances. Strange tubes lineup row after row after row, tall and unremarkable aside from a strange design I was unfamiliar with. Normally the design philosophy can help me guesstimate where a particular storage container comes from, but this design was too unusual to even guess. I’ll just chalk it up to the Kolshians. They always have a bunch of weird designs.

Sticking to just the machine's logs, nothing seems out of the ordinary. Fluid intake is normal, power usage is normal, back up systems normal, all seem to be up to code and working properly. 

Now *THAT* doesn't make sense.

Not a screw out of place. Not a loose pipe to be seen. Everything tightened *exactly* to code. Every form filled out and properly logged. I know for a fact nobody here is that perfect. There's not even a drop of coolant on the ground! Even if there were people here of normal competency there'd be *something* wrong. The strangest thing was how long they've been active. It took a little mental math, but these things have been active for well over [100 years]! What could possibly need storage for this long? Not only that, where did they even come from to have needed to be stored this long?

I decide to take a peek into the pods. How can I not? Too many questions build up inside of me and they *must* be answered! I press a paw up to the glass as I steadily lower the pressure, and slowly but surely the frost on the glass melts and gives me a view inside. I see a slender blob, it's hairless and off putting. It's some sort of biped… with… *two front facing eyes*

I don’t exactly remember when I left running. Or if I screamed. Or when exactly I threw up. All I know is now I’m out of breath with an awful taste in my mouth. I should've known. It seems so obvious now. I mean, it doesn't because who in their right mind thinks *Oh, we got surprise predators now, that's all ok*?

They were supposed to be extinct. Killed by their own demon machine. Oh stars oh speh oh brahk. *Humans*. *HUMANS*! Right here. Flesh eating sapients kept in suspended animation. Where I *work*! Monsters… right here. All under my supervision. I'm being paid to hold *predators*! I’m in charge of keeping such horrible things… safe.

Safe.

They didn’t expect me to find this, I'm sure of it. I have full access to their safety now… Their lives are in my paws. I have no clue how they ended up here, but I hold their fates now. I can just unplug them if I wanted to. I could rid the universe of the last of these predators once and for all. I have a monopoly on an entire sapient species. 

This wasn't easy I bet. Someone had to go through a lot of trouble to get them without anyone knowing. It’d be a shame if I were to do my job and get rid of the “Excess material”, since I technically don’t have any proof that they are supposed to be here. Technically, nothing is in here. I have free control to decide anything here. Whatever I decide to do with these… *things* is the final say on their fate. Legally, I’m sure it’d be understandable given the circumstances of recent events. I’m sure it’d even be considered self defense.

Someone with either a lot of skill, a lot of power or both got these humans here. I could waste all of it, anytime I wanted to. I wonder what someone like that would pay to keep them alive? Probably a lot. I wonder if my boss knows?  I wonder who else knows? Definitely not the kind of secret people want out. It wouldn't be hard at all to let this secret spill. I have a lot of leverage thanks to these dormant predators. I could be free from this job. I could extort someone for a lot of money… 

 Maybe this job isn’t as bad as I thought.