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Spelke
"Yeah, yeah, call me 'Speckle.' See what happens."
Background
___________
Spelke always wanted to be a cop since he was a little kid. That is until he grew up and witnessed the rather slow and corrupt nature of the justice system he took a few chances that did not work in his favor. The suspicious nature of a few petty criminals and thugs seemed to paint a much larger picture. But what? Upon further investigation he discovered to his amazement an elaborate network of criminal organizations.
Over the course of more than a year he covertly collected hard evidence to expose what he knew was really going on. When he moved to show the chief of police his findings he was astonished to see that the old man saw this as no big deal.
He slammed his paws onto the desk. "Sir, this could put a stop to all the crime in the city. As chief you would be hailed as a hero."
The man snorted, "Boy, you have a lot to learn. If this network is as expansive and as dangerous as you think it is don't you think they could just as easily walk in here and gun down every officer in this building? On the streets? Hell, they even have the names and addresses of every method of emergency response we have." He huffed ad leaned over the desk. "They can even take down the friends and families of all the military personnel within 100 miles and use them all as hostages. I would expect a full scale assault within a matter of hours or even minutes of going public with this."
Spelke's jaw dropped as he suddenly realized the true magnitude of what he had found. "How do you know all of this? This isn't even indicated in any of the evidence I brought in." It was ridiculous to imagine such a swift takeover would be possible. yet Skelke's gut churned as he slowly worked through the details in his own mind. The hobos, the gangs, everyone who lurked in the shadows were living pawns to the real threats.
The old man closed his eyes and sighed. "I found the exact same thing when I was young. I even met one of the masters of this elaborate society you've uncovered." He looked away caught in a memory. "Thirty years ago I did the exact same thing you did, and since then many young hopefuls have come to the same conclusion. You remember Anderson, he was killed last year while at his local grocery store. I believe he was on the same track you were, brought me similar findings too. He did not realize he was being monitored, he was sloppy and left a trail that led straight to his front door. I believe his wife died in a tragic car accident a few months later. "
Spelke trembled, he remembered it all. He had gone to police academy with Scott Anderson. They shared stories, beers, even lovers a few times. They exchanged blows between each other, and a few very drunk sloppy kisses. Spelke remembered the girl he loved since childhood falling for his best friend, watching them get married. Scott and Rose, the Border Collie and the Australian Shepherd, made a beautiful couple . Losing Scott was the start of a massive downward spiral for Rose.
At the funeral Spelke tried to comfort her, but he was disturbed by Scotts unusual behavior. Scott had grown progressively paranoid over the last few weeks with good reason. Spelke looked into the casket, at his dear friends face looking so peaceful. He looked over at Rose as she pushed him away holding her opposite hand over her belly.
It overwhelmed Spelke as he remembered the drive, the three children safely tucked in the back seat. The woman he loved for so long and how he might finally get a chance with the girl of his dreams as they joked about good days. Her smile.
He gulped.
His mind replayed everything as clear as day. The oncoming headlights, her gasp. The sound of twisting metal. He remembered crawling out of the car as it laid on it's roof. The cry of child piercing the darkness. Rose's cell phone ringing. The chill of cold grass as he collapsed into it. Flashing lights. White rooms. A few stitches without anesthetic. Waiting for good news that doesn't come. Holding her hand as her life slips away.
He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to pull his gun on the police chief.
The funeral was held at dusk laced in white flowers and a single glorious red rose on each casket. Scotts grave had hardly begun to settle and here he was again laying the woman the two men had competed over to her final resting place. Two small caskets encasing two wonderful angels would escort her into whatever lay beyond this life. In Spelkes arms slept a young little girl unaware of the mother she called out for in the night would never come to satisfy her hunger. She would never know the strong father and the strong proud look in his eye whenever he dawned his uniform.
He remembered handing the little girl over to a place where the little one would be better off. He remembered cuddling her one last time as she reached for his face and said her first word, "Da-da." He smiled at her, unable to barricade the tears that wanted to flowed from his face. The travesty of the word that fell upon his ears from the child's lips was unbearable.
Splke finally found words to speak up past a guttural growl. "I was there you bastard. I was in that car too!" The fist of a large Dane met his face. The old man pinned Spelke to the wall raising him off the ground a few feet. To meet his gaze.
He whispered menacingly to Spelke. "I have had to bear through more than thirty years of this shit watching good men and women die because they came too close to the truth. Listen, the fact that I have heard nothing about what you've done to collect the findings you have and not me detected is downright amazing." The chief backed off. Spelke felt his feet touch the ground. "For your safety you will be taking a little time off from this. You will leave your badge here, clean out your locker and get the hell out of this department immediately."
"But chief!"
"But nothing! Do you think I want to see you die like the others? You have gone completely undetected. I have this one opportunity to keep you safe, and alive. I suggest you take it. Understood?"
Spelke nodded acknowledging defeat. He took a moment to thinking out his position keeping his voice low. "They don't know I exist, but they must have some kind of system to alert them when someone finds out about this whole shit storm. Someone in this department is watching all of us and reporting to someone. Lets face it, if it was you I would have been found out a long time ago which means. We've been infiltrated?"
The old man nodded. "Even I have no idea who, though I have my suspicions." He gazed out the amber lit shutters of the window holding his arms behind his back.
Spelke nodded, "What should I expect to do for a job? I can't hold out on my own for very long. How are we going to cover up my leave?"
The old man smiled a cunning smile Spelke had never seen before. "I understand the mounting stress from this little project of yours has been manifesting itself as stress in your job correct?"
Spelke looked at the floor ashamed to admit he hadn't been taking very good care of himself. "Well yeah-"
He shuffled around his desk for a few moments. "Good enough. We are going to say the last few cases you've taken have gotten to you. You have had enough, and have decided it's time to move on. I have a few contacts that will find you a little later tonight, you will go to the nice bar on the 16th floor on Cordillera and Hamilton. Here is $200 for drinks and something nice to wear. Something casual will to nicely." He slid the cash across the desk along with a shining object.
Spelke retrieved the money and examined the item. It was gold pin displaying an elaborate etching of three conjoined dog heads. "Chief what is all of this?"
"You will wear that tonight on the collar of your shirt or in the place of a button. Consider this your resignation as an officer of the law. More importantly, Congratulations on the promotion. You are about to discover the other side of the coin you have dug up in this last year. You have only seen a side corroded and caked with many years of dirt and grime. The other side may not be much to look at but if you polish up you will have a chance to bask in it's glow. It is a force greater than being a mere police officer. Pays better too. That is, if you are willing to take it. Just understand it will be dangerous."
Spelke gaped in awe. How could he pass up this chance? Never again would he safely know and trust his fellow officers after all this. Quickly shuffling around to place his badge on the desk. "Well being an officer is also rather dangerous sir. What kind of job is it?"
The chief smiled. "Expect nothing, question everything, and always strive for a higher purpose. That's all I'm allowed to say for now."
Spelke huffed leaning back against the chief's dark mahogany desk. "I've lost just about everything I cared about. I live in a shitty little apartment with no idea how to make my pitiful life better. Can you assure me I can make something more of myself before I say yes."
The chief cocked an eyebrow chuckling. "I though I just said to expect nothing." He cleared his throat. "If it helps reassure you, at least know this. If you honestly wish to bring justice for the many who have walked in this building and died because they saw too much. Think about them as you storm out of this office and collect your things. Think about Rose and her children Spelke. Think about little Emily Andersen Scott's little girl. Move forward with confidence and do what you must to honor their memories. Is that understood?"
Spelke clenched the desk as it creaked under pressure, his rage mounting. How dare the old man use those events against him. "Yes. But did you have to bring that up?"
The chief nodded, "I'm sorry. I can't have you walking out of here happy you lost your job, now can I? It would be suspicious if you were anything but pissed off." Spelke walked to the door sensing it was about time for this confrontation to be over. "Though I must say I'm surprised at your reactions so far."
Spelke turned the knob, "Why is that?"
"Well if you haven't already you are about to process that everyone you have lost in the past year did not die because of any accidents. It was all planned. I knew, watched all of these events come to pass and told you nothing until now. Now get out of here, and good luck Spelke. God know's you'll need it."
Spelke ripped the door open too pissed off to care that the door ripped out off of it's hinges. "Fuck you too old man."
Everyone in the office turned and poked their heads up to watch the Shiloh Shepherd storm out of the Chief's office. They looked around unsure if they should restrain the man should he cause any harm to anyone else let alone himself.
The chief emerged calmly as a nearby Boxer asked, "Uh, should we restrain him sir?"
The chief looked on sternly as the young man treaded angrily to gather his things. "Leave him, You know as well as I do that he's had it rough this past year. The stress finally caught up to the boy. I had no other choice but to let him go. "
"Oh no."
"He's your friend correct? Go make sure he doesn't shoot anyone at least. The rest of you get back to work!" He turned back into his office as the room settled. "Looks like I have some work to do." Peering down at the shredded door he sighed. "With any luck he'll make it farther than I did."
The boxer lingered in the doorway for a moment longer. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the old Dane's scars.
Original description
Art Theme: Blood
Character Theme: Letter of the Law
Original Incarnation: Chess Player turned Soul Shepherd
I recently adopted Spelke from
Springdragon a while back. I finally found the perfect backstory for him as a cop. I pretty much ran with it from there. Hope you like and enjoy the story at least a shred of the amount I had writing it.
"Yeah, yeah, call me 'Speckle.' See what happens."
Background
___________
Spelke always wanted to be a cop since he was a little kid. That is until he grew up and witnessed the rather slow and corrupt nature of the justice system he took a few chances that did not work in his favor. The suspicious nature of a few petty criminals and thugs seemed to paint a much larger picture. But what? Upon further investigation he discovered to his amazement an elaborate network of criminal organizations.
Over the course of more than a year he covertly collected hard evidence to expose what he knew was really going on. When he moved to show the chief of police his findings he was astonished to see that the old man saw this as no big deal.
He slammed his paws onto the desk. "Sir, this could put a stop to all the crime in the city. As chief you would be hailed as a hero."
The man snorted, "Boy, you have a lot to learn. If this network is as expansive and as dangerous as you think it is don't you think they could just as easily walk in here and gun down every officer in this building? On the streets? Hell, they even have the names and addresses of every method of emergency response we have." He huffed ad leaned over the desk. "They can even take down the friends and families of all the military personnel within 100 miles and use them all as hostages. I would expect a full scale assault within a matter of hours or even minutes of going public with this."
Spelke's jaw dropped as he suddenly realized the true magnitude of what he had found. "How do you know all of this? This isn't even indicated in any of the evidence I brought in." It was ridiculous to imagine such a swift takeover would be possible. yet Skelke's gut churned as he slowly worked through the details in his own mind. The hobos, the gangs, everyone who lurked in the shadows were living pawns to the real threats.
The old man closed his eyes and sighed. "I found the exact same thing when I was young. I even met one of the masters of this elaborate society you've uncovered." He looked away caught in a memory. "Thirty years ago I did the exact same thing you did, and since then many young hopefuls have come to the same conclusion. You remember Anderson, he was killed last year while at his local grocery store. I believe he was on the same track you were, brought me similar findings too. He did not realize he was being monitored, he was sloppy and left a trail that led straight to his front door. I believe his wife died in a tragic car accident a few months later. "
Spelke trembled, he remembered it all. He had gone to police academy with Scott Anderson. They shared stories, beers, even lovers a few times. They exchanged blows between each other, and a few very drunk sloppy kisses. Spelke remembered the girl he loved since childhood falling for his best friend, watching them get married. Scott and Rose, the Border Collie and the Australian Shepherd, made a beautiful couple . Losing Scott was the start of a massive downward spiral for Rose.
At the funeral Spelke tried to comfort her, but he was disturbed by Scotts unusual behavior. Scott had grown progressively paranoid over the last few weeks with good reason. Spelke looked into the casket, at his dear friends face looking so peaceful. He looked over at Rose as she pushed him away holding her opposite hand over her belly.
It overwhelmed Spelke as he remembered the drive, the three children safely tucked in the back seat. The woman he loved for so long and how he might finally get a chance with the girl of his dreams as they joked about good days. Her smile.
He gulped.
His mind replayed everything as clear as day. The oncoming headlights, her gasp. The sound of twisting metal. He remembered crawling out of the car as it laid on it's roof. The cry of child piercing the darkness. Rose's cell phone ringing. The chill of cold grass as he collapsed into it. Flashing lights. White rooms. A few stitches without anesthetic. Waiting for good news that doesn't come. Holding her hand as her life slips away.
He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to pull his gun on the police chief.
The funeral was held at dusk laced in white flowers and a single glorious red rose on each casket. Scotts grave had hardly begun to settle and here he was again laying the woman the two men had competed over to her final resting place. Two small caskets encasing two wonderful angels would escort her into whatever lay beyond this life. In Spelkes arms slept a young little girl unaware of the mother she called out for in the night would never come to satisfy her hunger. She would never know the strong father and the strong proud look in his eye whenever he dawned his uniform.
He remembered handing the little girl over to a place where the little one would be better off. He remembered cuddling her one last time as she reached for his face and said her first word, "Da-da." He smiled at her, unable to barricade the tears that wanted to flowed from his face. The travesty of the word that fell upon his ears from the child's lips was unbearable.
Splke finally found words to speak up past a guttural growl. "I was there you bastard. I was in that car too!" The fist of a large Dane met his face. The old man pinned Spelke to the wall raising him off the ground a few feet. To meet his gaze.
He whispered menacingly to Spelke. "I have had to bear through more than thirty years of this shit watching good men and women die because they came too close to the truth. Listen, the fact that I have heard nothing about what you've done to collect the findings you have and not me detected is downright amazing." The chief backed off. Spelke felt his feet touch the ground. "For your safety you will be taking a little time off from this. You will leave your badge here, clean out your locker and get the hell out of this department immediately."
"But chief!"
"But nothing! Do you think I want to see you die like the others? You have gone completely undetected. I have this one opportunity to keep you safe, and alive. I suggest you take it. Understood?"
Spelke nodded acknowledging defeat. He took a moment to thinking out his position keeping his voice low. "They don't know I exist, but they must have some kind of system to alert them when someone finds out about this whole shit storm. Someone in this department is watching all of us and reporting to someone. Lets face it, if it was you I would have been found out a long time ago which means. We've been infiltrated?"
The old man nodded. "Even I have no idea who, though I have my suspicions." He gazed out the amber lit shutters of the window holding his arms behind his back.
Spelke nodded, "What should I expect to do for a job? I can't hold out on my own for very long. How are we going to cover up my leave?"
The old man smiled a cunning smile Spelke had never seen before. "I understand the mounting stress from this little project of yours has been manifesting itself as stress in your job correct?"
Spelke looked at the floor ashamed to admit he hadn't been taking very good care of himself. "Well yeah-"
He shuffled around his desk for a few moments. "Good enough. We are going to say the last few cases you've taken have gotten to you. You have had enough, and have decided it's time to move on. I have a few contacts that will find you a little later tonight, you will go to the nice bar on the 16th floor on Cordillera and Hamilton. Here is $200 for drinks and something nice to wear. Something casual will to nicely." He slid the cash across the desk along with a shining object.
Spelke retrieved the money and examined the item. It was gold pin displaying an elaborate etching of three conjoined dog heads. "Chief what is all of this?"
"You will wear that tonight on the collar of your shirt or in the place of a button. Consider this your resignation as an officer of the law. More importantly, Congratulations on the promotion. You are about to discover the other side of the coin you have dug up in this last year. You have only seen a side corroded and caked with many years of dirt and grime. The other side may not be much to look at but if you polish up you will have a chance to bask in it's glow. It is a force greater than being a mere police officer. Pays better too. That is, if you are willing to take it. Just understand it will be dangerous."
Spelke gaped in awe. How could he pass up this chance? Never again would he safely know and trust his fellow officers after all this. Quickly shuffling around to place his badge on the desk. "Well being an officer is also rather dangerous sir. What kind of job is it?"
The chief smiled. "Expect nothing, question everything, and always strive for a higher purpose. That's all I'm allowed to say for now."
Spelke huffed leaning back against the chief's dark mahogany desk. "I've lost just about everything I cared about. I live in a shitty little apartment with no idea how to make my pitiful life better. Can you assure me I can make something more of myself before I say yes."
The chief cocked an eyebrow chuckling. "I though I just said to expect nothing." He cleared his throat. "If it helps reassure you, at least know this. If you honestly wish to bring justice for the many who have walked in this building and died because they saw too much. Think about them as you storm out of this office and collect your things. Think about Rose and her children Spelke. Think about little Emily Andersen Scott's little girl. Move forward with confidence and do what you must to honor their memories. Is that understood?"
Spelke clenched the desk as it creaked under pressure, his rage mounting. How dare the old man use those events against him. "Yes. But did you have to bring that up?"
The chief nodded, "I'm sorry. I can't have you walking out of here happy you lost your job, now can I? It would be suspicious if you were anything but pissed off." Spelke walked to the door sensing it was about time for this confrontation to be over. "Though I must say I'm surprised at your reactions so far."
Spelke turned the knob, "Why is that?"
"Well if you haven't already you are about to process that everyone you have lost in the past year did not die because of any accidents. It was all planned. I knew, watched all of these events come to pass and told you nothing until now. Now get out of here, and good luck Spelke. God know's you'll need it."
Spelke ripped the door open too pissed off to care that the door ripped out off of it's hinges. "Fuck you too old man."
Everyone in the office turned and poked their heads up to watch the Shiloh Shepherd storm out of the Chief's office. They looked around unsure if they should restrain the man should he cause any harm to anyone else let alone himself.
The chief emerged calmly as a nearby Boxer asked, "Uh, should we restrain him sir?"
The chief looked on sternly as the young man treaded angrily to gather his things. "Leave him, You know as well as I do that he's had it rough this past year. The stress finally caught up to the boy. I had no other choice but to let him go. "
"Oh no."
"He's your friend correct? Go make sure he doesn't shoot anyone at least. The rest of you get back to work!" He turned back into his office as the room settled. "Looks like I have some work to do." Peering down at the shredded door he sighed. "With any luck he'll make it farther than I did."
The boxer lingered in the doorway for a moment longer. Just enough to catch a glimpse of the old Dane's scars.
Original description
Art Theme: Blood
Character Theme: Letter of the Law
Original Incarnation: Chess Player turned Soul Shepherd
I recently adopted Spelke from
Springdragon a while back. I finally found the perfect backstory for him as a cop. I pretty much ran with it from there. Hope you like and enjoy the story at least a shred of the amount I had writing it.
Category Designs / General Furry Art
Species Dog (Other)
Size 479 x 718px
File Size 237.9 kB
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