Inner Demons


A glimpse of wired metal and bared teeth grinded against their restraints and tormented him. Those eyes, now far gone, burned deep with predatory lust and fervent drive that anyone would mistake for insanity. Gone was the civilized soul, evicted long ago. Blinded by a rage that spread like a virus and addiction, it haunted him without permission. The snapping of teeth and aggressive hissing, the growls. Their familiar faces flashed in the wake of his sanity, claws gripping on his fur, piercing him and dragging him back into this repetitive punishment. What was bringing him back to this place every night? He could see nothing except their faces, keeping him from identifying this desolate place. This place... It wasn't home. It was a nightmare, a dark hole, an endless reminder of what plagued him since that day. It felt like he was living his own funeral, digging his own grave through these dreams.

A miserable grave etched with: Nicholas P. Wilde. You have arrived. Please enjoy your stay, here where you can only be what you are.

Only... what you are…

His body felt nothing... His eyes could see nothing... Nothing except them. These claws that sunk into his body, taking patches of fur with it. His eyes grew large and froze as they trembled with his realization - these were muzzles. His throat suddenly felt tighter, his forehead creasing as adrenaline decided to pay him a visit. The lumps in his throat heavy like rocks, weighing down an already tormented body.

The kind that needs to be muzzled?

The same muzzles that burned a permanent place in his mind to call home. The same muzzles that, all those years ago, etched invisible scars into his face. These muzzles spoke a silent, horrifying language of a truth he thought had been decrepit.. that all predators were nothing more than monsters. Twisted, ugly, horrifying, and blood hungry monsters. His thoughts rattled in his head to pick out the truth as he scrambled desperately for an escape. Common sense told him, this isn't where he was meant to be. This was a cruel joke, a mistake. This wasn't where he belonged.

Home. He wanted to go home.

His yelps and broken sobs were shaken with fear, stabbing him again and again and again. This knife pierced him deep, in places he thought were healed up with scars. It refused to leave. His mouth ran dry and his maw was constricted, there was no way out. His eyes squeezed shut in fragile hopes that a shield would be erected, keeping these demons away from him. Far, far away from him.

"It... may have something to do with biology. A biological component... Something in their... DNA."

"Thousands of years ago... Uh... predators.. survived through their.. aggressive hunting instincts... for whatever reason. They seem to be reverting back to their primitive, savage ways."

Savage

Savage

His claws flared out and veins on his head swelled as a desperate cry for help left his throat. Nick told himself that, in this life, he would never turn into them. He would never, ever be like them. An instinct that otherwise would kill had now transformed into defense, his mighty effort that would defend him from this pain that wracked his body. He was different... deep inside. Something told him that. Or had it been someone? Being delirious with fear did things to your resolve, but the only goal he had right now was to escape the claws that gripped him. With a leg pulled back, he kicked them off, scrambling to his feet and running out into the dark. The images haunted him like ghosts from behind, trailing after his tail as he squinted hopelessly, trying to find something, anything.

Help

Suddenly, there was darkness, the kind his eyes could see in. He wheezed and tried to gulp down air, almost tripping over himself as his paws curled beneath him. He couldn't stop the infectious shaking that kept his body hostage, sweat rolling through his fur and off the tip of his nose. A muffled cry of grief escaped him as his forehead felt heavy. He couldn't bear the thought of these faces catching up to him now, cackling behind him in the unknown. His ears, which had been married to his skull previously, swiveled up weakly as he gripped his chest.

He knew patches of his fur were gone, ripped off as souvenirs for the demons he had battled off earlier. These demons... the kind you'd think you would see in movies were different. They were real... all too real for some reason. It dawned on him why, and the sensation caused nausea to swirl around in his stomach, settling into unwanted anxiety. He felt sick.

Oh Nick... you're not like them...

These demons, their faces.. they were actual mammals. Everyday mammals. Mammals he had seen before. He knew each and every one. Every face in the city he saw at least once, and if he never saw them he caught word of their name somewhere. It came with the territory in his nature of fox, knowing who potential enemies were on the streets. These mammals weren't your average criminals, some of them far from the felons he usually linked with himself. They were drivers, florists, security guards, teachers, and cafe owners. The tiger on Elm Avenue who always sold hot coffee and sandwiches during morning rush. The wolf who made rounds delivering newspapers and magazines. The pig that owned the best greasy spoon diner in all of Savanna Central. Those faces weren't demons... or monsters... they were people he knew. Folks that he ran into just about everyday, or saw at some point in his life.

Yet here they were... layers of their previous lives peeled back to reveal their most terrifying forms like a raw, open wound. It all came crashing down on him, everything. In that moment, he felt the walls that hugged him tightly during his life, now aiming to suffocate him all at once. Cut him off of whatever shred of determination he had within him. Blow after blow of guilt and surfacing repression squeezed the life out of him. His body caved in on itself, and his head gripped tightly beneath his paws. He had no idea what was happening to him, and his breath had been knocked from his bones.

"Clearly there's a biological component... these predators may be reverting back to their primitive, savage ways... Are you serious?"

His mouth parted as he tried to breathe, his breath heaving as he stumbled around in the dark. He could see something... But he wasn't sure what it was. He no longer cared for finding out where he was, he just wanted to get out of here. Life had long since evolved, and things weren't the same way they used to be. Predators weren't... monsters. They weren't savages. They were mammals. Mammals that had lives, mammals that deserved to live and feel and hurt. It was that same time long ago that he was slapped with the label that haunted him constantly.

You can only be what you are.

Just when it felt like the last drop of life was to be squeezed out of him, he saw a figure among the bleary darkness that had even his nocturnally sharp vision squinting to see. It was coming closer towards his shriveled up and broken form. His body felt lifeless as he found it difficult to move up from the hunched position he had put himself in. He flinched as he heard a voice, but his ears couldn't make out the words. Beyond the savagery and carnal instinct, there was a life out there somewhere. A life belonging to a person that yearned to go beyond what society insisted was a separation.

There was hope in this life, hope beyond the title of prey and predator. Species knew no boundaries here, and went against the norm to love what was forbidden. He whimpered in slight desperation as he dared to raise his head slightly. Sweat had long since drenched his clothes, his tie thrown wherever it landed over his shoulder, sagging down from the collar. His green hawaiian shirt was ripped and tattered, no blood where there would be blood but missing fur instead. He was battered and broken, the freedom he had secured for himself snatched away in that moment's depravity.

A tiny paw stuck out from the darkness, touching his sweat drenched face and raising his chin to look towards the direction it came from. He closed his eyes in wait, defeat and remnants of fear enabling him to prepare for what he considered his final moment. He winced, his brow long since furrowed tightly on his forehead as he took a breath. The muzzles... the mammals... they...

"Nick... here you are..."

The voice rasped and cracked in sorrow and concern as he felt his body tense up. Mingled with.. worry. Someone was actually worried about him? The claws were gone, and the images hadn't returned for a second round. This was different. The paw was soft and gentle... And dare he say.. affectionate? It spread warmth across his muddled face and applied pressure to the internal pains he was battling, deep within his head. Hesitant to open his eyes just yet, he pulled away at first, but the paw followed him, soon finding his nose bumping into something soft.. and warmer than the first. Against his instincts to pull away and run, he inhaled instead, and the scent that followed lulled him into an instant sob. One of his paws came up and desperately gripped at the form in front of him. His claws dug into the fur slightly, convincing himself that it was real, and that he wouldn't be shipped off back into darkness. After a moment like this, he shuddered and sighed, his form pressing into the tiny body that refused to let him go.

"Judy…"

He wailed in that instant as fresh and hot tears rolled down his face, mingling with the sweat and snot that accumulated a while ago. In the midst of this delirium, he shook his trembling head, starting to snap out of this comfort as the tears gave him a grim reminder of why he was here in the first place. She didn't deserve this. It was dangerous here. They would come here, they would come here for her.

"N-No... J-Judy run... R-run Judy...p-please..." He rasped against her fur as he tried to shove her away, his ears yet again planted against his head as the pain he embraced left him weak. Somewhere in the darkness they waited, growls seeping through the metal and claws outstretched in greed.

If this was how he was going to go, he'd be damned if the bunny he loved saw him like this.

He'd let the claws of the masses drag him back into that dark dimension before he had her dragged down too. If anything or anyone was going to be hurt by this, it'd be him all by himself. All those miserable years hustling mammals out of money and cheating during cards. Letting the gains of his hustle stick on his body like glue, rub him raw like sandpaper, and fuse him together with his sins. He was a filthy fox, a fox born and raised and spoon fed to lie. He swallowed down the guilt and deception while the pockets of his shorts grew thick with cash. He'd wash it down with cheap liquor, another swig for the road before hopping in Finnick's van to cruise towards their next destination. His eyes had glazed over ages ago to mask the deceit behind the smooth purrs of his persuasion, always with a satisfied smirk at the end. His insecurities thrived not outside but inside these walls, hidden safely beneath a carefully mastered act of smug and sarcasm.

No... he wouldn't let her see him like that.

For a moment, he couldn't feel the tiny paws that even still refused to let him go. He was back on Cypress Lane, in his childhood cramped and shabby apartment with creaky doors and the lingering smell of garbage in the hallway. His mother's grub stew boiled on the stove, his Junior Ranger Scout's uniform pressed and clean on a hanger. An agile paw worked a worn brush through his fur while whispering praise and encouragement that tickled the tops of his ears. Sweet nothings and dreams of all the possible things he could be, out in the vast world beyond their building. It was enough to shake away the chill biting at his toes, and the constant commotion that could be heard from the gamblers outside. It melted away the nervousness he felt and filled a tiny kit's heart with pride. That day... Was truly the last moment he would ever feel happy again. The last time he'd ever know true warmth, the remedy of a smile, the delight of a laugh. All these precious memories, stuffed away in their bottle, paid Nick a brief visit during his present grief. This was what it was like, to be something more than a good for nothing fox. Not a shifty, low life fox, but a fox with a purpose. A fox that truly knew what he wanted to do with this purpose.

But that was all lies. Lies that crumbled between his fingers like sand and washed away in the tides that had reclaimed him for what he really was.

He always tried to hide that sour feeling of coming face to face with the truth. Let's be honest, no one trusted a fox. They didn't then, and they sure as heck wouldn't now. Anything otherwise was carefully fabricated fluff designed for gullible and all too innocent minds. Like the mind of a certain bunny he had the pleasure of getting to know. To make matters any worse... It was foxes like him that took advantage of such innocence. The thought of it made nausea bubble up inside his stomach. He was here again, against the fur of a woman he didn't deserve, beneath the paws of someone too kind for words, and crumbling against her despite his nerve that called him to break away.

She wounded him deeply.

She uttered no words but fought against him instead, her strength overwhelming his brittle body as she kept him tugged against her chest. Under normal circumstances, he'd be able to shove her with ease, but under his present condition, his chest felt too heavy to do so. Her paw ran circles over the crown of his head and rubbed him reassuringly between his ears. The sweat didn't seem to phase her, and her body unlike Nick's, wasn't laced with fear. Nick's ears withered again in confusion, unable to breathe a word before getting thumped back down against her fur. She wouldn't let him speak, not a word or a whisper. Their silent unison mingled together the once invisible sufferings that emerged on the surface. He was hurting, and she was here. Nick swore the pain washed away with each and every stroke, the tears in his eyes winding down to light trickles and sore body now mostly limp against the bunny's. He could hardly breathe, but when he did, coughs sputtered from his throat, a paw moving over his back as he heaved.

After what felt like hours pressed protectively against the poor bunny, he found that his initial anxiety had fled the scene. His heart wasn't leaping out of his chest, and his head was throbbing now with a dull ache. The small body, still pressed against his own, held him tight, really tight. He couldn't crane his face up to see her, but he heard the remnants of sniffles hiccuping from her chest. His mouth was dry, and he swallowed uncertainly as a lump made it's way up his throat. He parted his lips to speak but closed his mouth again, instead moving his paw to curl against her shoulder.

"It's okay now, Nick." She sighed softly against his head as she kept her hold on him. "I won't let you run away from me... sly fox." His ear twitched as she scolded him lightly, and he was once again soothed as she squeezed him in another hug. The mammals in muzzles dispersed awhile ago like puffs of smoke, and the feeling of Judy's reassurance was the only thing that remained. A dull ache still rang in his head, but he embraced it this time, despite the fear that had gone dormant inside him. The exhaustion spread over him now, and despite not saying a thing, he felt safe in this moment. He wished he could stay in her arms like this forever, away from all the heartache.

Much to Nick Wilde's dismay, his alarm clock sounded off beside his bed, the ringing snapping him out of his nightmare and back into his own reality. He cracked an eye open, his paw clutching at his sheets as he took notice of the time.

6:43 am.

It took him a long second to realize that he was well over half an hour past his usual wake up time. His body sagged back into his bed, deciding to take a moment to recover. His ears perked then as he heard footsteps approaching his door, causing his face to go still. His eyes locked on the knob that turned, his defense going off inside his head to escape. The window looked pretty promising suddenly, but that would cost him a few stories.

"Nick?" The voice of his favorite little bunny questioned as she peeked her head in, ears appearing first as usual. The purple eyes he adored so much fell on him from across the room, though he could visibly see worry sink into her features. He then realized that his bedsheets were twisted up, and he was still covered in a damp layer of sweat. Judy really had the worst timing sometimes.

"Hey C-Carrots..." He chuckled dryly though it did little to hide the trembling in his voice. His attempt at a smirk wilted into a frown as he studied her face. He knew right then, he was caught.

He wasn't going to hustle his way out of this conversation very easily.


Disclaimer: I do not own Zootopia, nor claim rights to any characters featured in the film.

Author's Note:

Hello to everyone who dropped in to read my story! :D This is my first attempt at writing after several years, and I was a little nervous about starting up again. I had no idea what awaited me here, and I worked so hard to turn this into a story worth reading. Much love and respect to my author pals on here who I talk too (you guys know who you are) for encouraging me to go ahead and write! I was pretty sure my writing wasn't worth much, but I decided to dive in and try anyway! I have an exciting journey in store for you all, and I'm so very excited to get started! Thanks a million to my editors who worked with me again and again to polish this first chapter. It means a lot to me and I felt jitters just hitting the publish button! Please leave a review, tell me what you think. I love reviews and enjoy reading them! I'm happy to be sharing my work with fellow Zootopia fans! Stay tuned for Chapter 2!

~HushedDream