It was raining. Again. Fuck global warming, Dean thought as he splashed through the puddles. Pretty soon, this neighborhood would be abandoned like all the others he had known. He dodged a sprite when it flew out of an alleyway, cursing at it. Why didn't people keep a leash on their damned pets? Goddamn genetic engineering, he thought. Goddamn everything. The Earth was drowning, and all people thought about was taking a vacation on Mars or buying themselves stupid little mythical pets. Nobody had any sense anymore.
He saw the box before he went into GFP Pharmacy but ignored it. It was still there when he emerged with his medication. The rain had lightened, and so had his mood. The pills helped a lot with that. He wandered over to the box and nudged it with his foot. Something stirred inside. At first, he recoiled. A rat, maybe? He'd heard on the news something about mutated rats, and that was the last thing he needed to encounter today. The thing in the box made a soft "meep" sound. Not a rat, then. Maybe. He nudged the box again. He bent carefully and flipped the lid off.
The thing had a thick mane of luxurious red hair. It was pale like milk. Large, scarlet-colored eyes looked up at him. It was female. At least, Dean thought it probably was. It had breasts, at least. At a glance, he'd guess it was a tiny woman. Not human, though. A foot high, maybe, eyes large like an anime creation, too much hair on its head, breasts far too large to be practical. A toy.
"You're a Playmate," he said, recalling the ads. "You're a kid's toy. Where's your kid? Why are you here in this box?"
The tiny girl said, "Meep," again. Of course it couldn't talk. Typical. Dean squatted to get a better look. The Playmate stood up, just tall enough to peek over the top of the box. It smiled. Damn. It was cute, he thought. If she was human-sized, she'd be a babe. An ultra-babe. Still inhuman, though. Those eyes! What was it about large eyes that made things like her look so adorable?
Dean reached carefully into the box. There was a tiny collar around her neck but no tag. She wore what looked like some kind of BDSM outfit. A leather leotard open in the front all the way down to her crotch but, somehow, still able to contain her breasts. She wore pink fishnets on her tiny legs and a pair of ankle-high boots on her little feet. Cute as fuck, that's what she was.
He was getting hard. This wasn't right. She wasn't real, she was a mixed bag of sloppy genetic engineering, meant to be a child's plaything, not meant to last. Lifespan of, what? Five years? How old was it already? They arrived fully grown already. There was nothing else in the box to give him a clue about why it was here.
It touched him. Tiny, soft, pale hands grabbed his hand. She hugged it, petted it affectionately, and looked up at him silently imploring. Dean sighed. He glanced around. No podcams here. The city had given up on this section already. No police presence, nobody watching. Not that it would matter. The toy was obviously abandoned. "You want to come home with me, little Meep?" he asked.
"Meep!" it replied, holding up its tiny arms. Dean lifted it easily with one hand. The creature immediately clutched against his chest, snugging to him beneath his coat. It was warm. It was soft and...it smelled. Vanilla? Lemon? Genetics could do almost anything.