Accosted
A lone form prowled the streets of Corneria City as the night began to settle in. He sauntered on the sidewalk. Almost gliding; a black hat and wool coat obscuring his head. Occasionally, striped patterns of light illuminated through his wooly protection, revealing the vivid, bright green eyes that pierced intelligently underneath. He ignored the glaring lights as well as the locals' on the steps of apartments, taking care to avoid the homeless beggars.
The corner of Main Street proudly stood a most prominent hotel: The Ulster. Busy businessmen, perky politicians, and devious deals consistently flowing through its revolving doors; and for those leaving, their muzzles loosened by a couple drinks and then some. The colors of haze and the stench of hard liquor decorated the onset night.
A local bar paled in comparison beside the prestigious hotel yet also saw its fair share of customers that night. Its worn stone steps leading up to the propped door testified to the many paws from the past and present. Since night had fallen, many of the older patrons began their beguiled retreat to their private rooms. And in came the rowdy youngsters.
Those late-nighters. Them trouble-starters.
Amidst loud tones, the occasional laughter, and the clinking of ice cubes, the svelte fox slipped past patrons and headed for the neearly crowded bar stools past the booths. His body eased down on top the seat, snuggly packed between a jaguar and a squirrel.
"Scotch." Looking at the jaguar chatting away adjacent to him. "Please."
The terrier, in his black vest, smiled. "Certainly sir." He returned with a glass and then pulled a dark amber filled bottle from the taller shelf behind, forced to strain his meager height to reach it. He set the intricately designed glass bottle on the counter and wriggled the cork free. A satisfying pop as it reluctantly slipped free from its tight crevice. The scotch poured inside the crystal glass. The fox put his paw up as the bartender reached for cubes of ice.
He turned and left with his drink, leaving behind a stack of credits and a dumbfounded bartender. He picked a secluded booth in a corner and brought the glass to his muzzle.
"Well, if it ain't our goody garbage man. Didn't think your pampered pelt would show up in a place like this." A graying wolf with a right eye-patch helped himself to the space across from the fox. He wore a similar full-length coat.
"Done taking out the trash? Celebrating?"
The fox put down his glass. "Fancy meeting you here." Then smiling, "No, I'm actually having a drink right before my night shift. Speaking of which, don't you look dressed for the occasion?"
The wolf pulled out a cigarette and lit it all with a single reach and flick.
A stream of smoke blew into the fox's face. "Al! Y'think I'm working right now? I can't get a job these days with you strutting about and all." He shrugged his weight to the other side. "The nights a little chilly, it's all. Drink and put work behind us, eh?"
Al grunted and drained his glass in a swing. "Like that knife? Barely missed my heart." He shook his head. "Dex, I'm starting to think that your reputation exceeds you." Then throwing in a hearty smile. "Well, what little of it remains."
Dex's good eye shot open, eyebrows rising. He smirked while his unoccupied paw retreated into his jacket. "Careful Al. Next time it'll go where it hurts."
Al pushed back his jacket to reveal the bottom of a holstered blaster. "I'd like to see you try that." He stretched his other arm out across the booth. Challenging him. "See, you aren't the fastest anymore, geezer."
And so the staring contest ensued. Time froze for both, waiting for someone. Stone-cold faces, unwavering concentration. All it would take is one flinch and -
The sound of unrestrained laughter in the booth across from them to break the deadly glares.
Dex shrugged, pulling a travel-flask of clear liquid from his pocket. Pouring it into Al's glass he said, "Mighty fancy watch you got there. Cost you a tail?"
He sniffed the contents, swirling it around. Gin.
"Nah. Just an eye."
Dex's fur bristled and he revealed his fangs. "Heh. One drink loosened your tongue already?"
Al took a second to cover up his weapon before raising his glass. "Eh, you'll have to pay for more if you really want that."
Dex followed Al's example. "Right. Ever since you became their pet you've been underpaid and scraping by, eh? Sell that watch then."
The fox grinned. "Why waste this watch on a drink when you're here?"
Sighing. "Stuck-up bastard."
Al held the glass. "A toast to the best."
Dex shook his head in defeat.
Clink.
"Sir?"
. . .
The whole stirred. "Sir?"
Al forced his eyes open. The terrier stood before him, seeming to wobble one way then another. His paw on Al's shoulder, steadying him.
Where the hell am I?
He stumbled to his feet from the booth, shrugging the terrier off. And then looking to his watch: 11:47.
Fuck.
Al concentrated on getting out the door before he figured out the reason why he was late.
Dex, you sly piece of shit.
It was then Al checked the inside of his coat. Ah, at least he had the decency to leave me my gun.
The bartender stood shock still, staring at the black beauty. He took an apprehensive step back with his opened paws rising slowly.
Al almost scoffed and handed him another wad of credits. "For your troubles."
He walked outside as the cool, stale night breeze ruffled his coat. A deep breath of refreshment and disappointment left his muzzle. Al finally shook the mental haze away and proceeded into the Ulster.
Should be an easy hit. Small time broker. Maybe a bodyguard or two. Or None.
Al stepped out of the gaudy, golden elevator and onto a velvet, red carpet. It stretched and winded around the white marble hallways to either side. The soft floor lovingly embraced Al's wooden soled shoes.
He drew his gun at the sight of two bulldogs clothed in the typical black suits of private security. Their bodies strewn on the floor across each other, heads turned.
Just what I needed. Overlapping schedules.
Al rounded the open door and flicked the lights on.
The broker, plump for a bird even without the fluffed out plumage, laid on his presidential king-sized bed. His sheets ruffled just like his body. Surprisingly, the tie was straightened.
A clean kill.
The balcony veil swayed in the breeze. Movement!
Al snapped his gun and cautiously approached the balcony. He stepped outside and peeled back the veil to find another bodyguard suspended by a crude belt tie.
Realizing his mistake, he backed up as a figure dropped on him, kicking him into the room.
Al recovered but a piece of metal flew through the air before he could fire his gun. It spun wildly off the wall.
Dex rushed into the room and charged Al. "You've grown slow pup!"
Al stood up and caught the first elbow. The other wrapped around Al's nape. throat lightly. Dex pushed his left elbow forward into Al's throat, cutting his airway off. "You're so weak."
Al grabbed Dex's arms and supported his body up. He launched his legs into Dex's chest and propelled himself free. Al welcomed the air as Dex regained footing for another assault.
"Good, good. Still have some leg muscle, I'm surprised." Dex rippled his muscles and bared his teeth in a heated grin."Mmmm, felt good."
Dex charged Al again. Two left hooks followed by a right elbow; a backhouse kick and another right jab. I can't possibly beat Dex in close quarters.
Al ducked and threw an uppercut -
Dex caught Al's arm and tried to force it behind his back and onto the bed. Al managed to turn around and keep his arm in front before the bed broke his fall.
Dex breathed a grin into Al's face.
There wasn't much that Al could do in the compromising situation with his hands restricted and legs pinned.
I can't do much in this compromising state but there isn't much Dex can do without letting go.
Al gave a cheeky smile back."Well, still in tiptop shape, I see. Going to let me go now?"
Dex eyed his prey for a moment. "I don't know. You look so helpless and all."
Al revealed a canine grimace before slamming his head into Dex's. The room shook and Dex's legs loosened up for just a split second.
Al brought his knees up and kicked out while pulling his upper torso back. Dex's grip was ripped from Al's. His only weapon too . . . or so Al hoped.
He sported a grin. "Good use of your head." He reached behind him, pulling out a knife.
Al spread his hands out in front of him and circled closer to his gun. "Now, that isn't very fair."
The knife jumped ecstatically from one paw to the next. "Since when did I ever play fair?"
Dex pounced with a slash. The first, Al ducked underneath while the second one, he blocked . . . barely.
Dex realigned his knife on his paw and leaned back slightly. "You've gotten better. Mentoring you was a mistake."
Dex kicked out at Al but he sidestepped and threw a jab at Dex's left rib.
He grunted in pleasure. "Put some back into it!"
Al obliged and reared back for another punch. He let the knife skim his face and then let loose another shot at his ribcage.
"That barely tickled." Dex picked Al up and threw him. "You're a garbage man?
He landed awkwardly on top of the dead politician before pushing him aside. Dex got on top of Al instantly. With his limbs finally free, Al wrapped his legs around Dex's waist and grappled his free arm, stopping the knife from entering his shoulder blade again.
Dex was turned onto his back as Al rolled over. "Oh ho ho. Trying to submit me?"
Al managed to lock Dex's arm into an arm-bar. "Will you?"
He chuckled heartily. "That's mighty cute."
Al strained with all his might, hoping to maybe perhaps even get Dex to feel something. Anything. He pushed his arms harder, muscles straining; sweat collecting. Dex's arm slowly bent.
He was rewarded with the knife falling and laughter.
Dex broke free with ease and then turned the world upside down, and Al found himself on the bottom once more.
With his airway cut off and his trigger arm in a similar position as Dex's just a few seconds earlier, there wasn't much Al could do at this point except do the sensible.
Al growled.
"What was that? Can't hear you."
Al turned his head sideways. "I yield!"
Dex let up and roughed up his head. "That's a good pup."
Al caressed his arm and flexed his fingers. "I detest that name."
"On the contrary, I believe you love it." Dex smirked when Al shot him a look and another growl.
Al checked out his watch. "Lucky you didn't scratch it."
Dex shook his head. "If I was aiming for that, I would've done so."
Al reached down and pocketed his firearm. "Sure."
"Til fate crosses our paths again, pup." Dex made for the door then stopped. "Stay alive out there."
Al's paw blurred black as a pistol pointed toward Dex. "I'm the fastest and best shot there is. Everyone knows that."
Dex shrugged. "That's true. But you lack experience."
His voice rang from the hallway. "Your gun."
Al peered closer at his weapon.
The power cell had been knocked slightly loose.
Such an overprotective fuck -
Lucky, I didn't fire my gun.
Author's addendum:
It's been a long five years since I've updated much of anything. But I'm back people. Whether or not anybody is still here, that remains to be determined.
To the newer readers of FFN, I welcome you and hope you enjoy this old story of mine.
To the older readers of FFN (should any still exist), I sincerely apologize for my half-decade hiatus. I've lost passion but its sprung up recently due to random events. Funny how bipolar humans can be.
I've done some major edits in order to better give my story structure to its plot. Before, it was jumbled and I don't believe that I could've made it work.
