Oh god.
He had predicted it.
He had feared it.
And now he had fallen victim to it.
Not now, heading home in a limousine. He still had time to warn his fellow predators, the annoying part was. Not here, in the back seat of a freezing car. He was where they could never have found him, the surprising part was. Not him, poor Mr. Manchas driving the soon to be wrecked car. Manchas knew nothing of what was about to happen nor of the injuries he was going to sustain, the saddening part was. And it was all because of that city hall trip.
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The city hall.
Mr Otterton felt pleased with himself, to have the guts to get his business officially recognised. After all, it felt just like yesterday he was designing his floral shop on the pack paper of a restaurant ticket. That was four years ago. And his kids, seven years ago.
There were still 15 minutes away from entering his meeting, so he sat down on the bench perpendicular to the door. He pulled out a tuna sandwich, and began to eat it. He was halfway through fully eating the sandwich when he noticed the door to the Assistant Mayor's office was unusually open.
How was that supposed to be? He thought Dawn Bellweaver, whatever her name was on the news, knew more better than to leave important confidential files open to any passing civilian animal. But it wouldn't hurt to take a peek, right?
Otterton turned round, to see if anyone was taking notice of him. When no one had seen him, Otterton sneaked through the door.
The first thing Otterton noticed was the fact that the "office" was not, in fact, a office at all, rather than a crowded supply room. Second was the smell of blueberries: why are they called blueberries at all? They are indigo, firstly, not actual blue, and secondly not even botanically classed as a berry at all! If we actually named plants because of the botanical classification, then tomatoes would be said as "redberries", bannanas, "yellowskinberries", apples; oh, you get it. Otterton took a degree in botany.
Third was the mass of pictures of baby sheep and cutsey cartoon plants: she was a sheep, after all. And the mug… "World's Greatest Assistant Mayor!"? Less style than a sloth in a action movie scene!
Fourth was the piles upon piles of files on the walls. Every single piece of paperwork was sent to this room for checking over, Otterton deduced because of the year old file lurking at the very bottom of the stack. It went on forever, and ever, the amount of information on the shelves.
"Bing!"
An email had appeared on the open laptop sitting on the desk. Puzzled, Otterton went over to look at it. It read:
"RE: NIGHTHOWLER DELIVERIES AND GUN From Doug Ramses"
Night howlers…
Why would a psychosis-inducing flower find it's way into the computers of the city…
Otterton clicked the email, for better interest.
"Guns,", "Savage,", "Predators," flashed onto Otterton's tiny little pupils. He could not have comprehended what had just been shown to him. He had tell someone and fast! Darn the meeting with the city hall! He had to tell someone trustworthy, and fast: Mr Big! He knew what to do, the most fearsome - and knowledgeable- crime boss in Zootropolis!
But before he could do anything, Dawn Bellweather herself appeared in the doorway.
"Excuse me? I would rather you not look at my private computer: it's kinda secret!"
"Oh! Sorry about that: let me just hurry along."
As Otterton passed by the Assistant Mayor, he felt he was looking into the eyes of a modern madman. She was a tyrant, cruel and menacing, yet so sweet looking in the surface.
As Otterton walked away, he could feel that Dawn knew exactly what he was feeling.
It was that moment Otterton realised he had yoga lessons on Wednesdays.
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The nighthowler pulsed through his veins. His pupils dilated in fear, and Otterton began to panic. Instincts buried in his mind generations ago became stronger, and gripped at his mind. Bits of his society began to fail, crumbling into his mental void. He began to slip away into darkness, as every part of what was his life was left behind for a emotionless savage monster. His personality disappeared, along with his ability to walk bipedally. Before his rational mind could reason, the world around him became null, and he was alone in his mind.
It was dark, going on for infinity without end. It was silent, nothing to create a sound with. But there was him.
For a while, it was just him and the void. But then the voices began: silent whispers, speaking in a strange language no living animal had heard. But after a while, it was clear these voices weren't of any meaning: these voices were the snarls of savages.
A long time ago, animals killed and hunted to survive. Predator eats prey. He used to view this idea as horrid and disgusting, but here in the void it was natural, how everything should have worked for the rest of time. But when animals began to think and to live in peace, nature had been defied. It was defied: and ANGRY.
The raging anger surrounded him, swarming through his head and his bones. HOW DARE YOU BREAK ME! FOR YIN AND YANG TO MIX WITHOUT DESTRUCTION! PREDATORS AND PREY TO LIVE IN HARMONY: TREACHERY AGAINST REASON!
The anger became primal every passing second, his hate against prey getting fatter and fatter until it reached its limit.
The limit.
Reality began to morph, now, the void's black turning green, the space below him turning to dirt and stone. When the void had fully transformed, he was in a large, expansive woodland. But he wasn't himself: a fox he had turned to, orange with a white tipped tail. It was on all fours, naked, snarling. Chasing after a grey rabbit.
This form Otterton was in, chased after the rabbit, quick and slick with its movements along the forest floor. The rabbit had a injured bleeding leg, and was struggling to get away from Otterton's savagery. But then the rabbit gave up, and tripped and rested against a bark tree.
The fox slowed down, more patient in its movement now. The rabbit was in a huge deal of pain, crying for its dear furry life. And then it screamed. Because the fox had bitten off the rabbit's neck.
For a small second, Otterton tasted metallic blood rolling down his throat: then the softness of rabbit flesh.
And just when Otterton was about to break down within his dream, into a screaming bloody mess, his memory wiped of the events of the dream, and Otterton was found lying down in a hospital bed, 4 months after going savage.
And a grey bunny was seen sitting on a nearby seat.
Fin.
