Hi everybody!! Now I know, I know...it seems like I died, right? Well, during the summer doing things like this actually are impossible. Which seems odd, but trust me, it's true. Still, here I am, starting off a brand new story! WOO!
Now, this story is in no way related to FAF, my other story. It doesn't even have Fox in it, since I got bored of writing the guy. Enough people do it. :) This chapter in particular may be confusing, what with the changing perspectives and all. Please try and bear with me here. Read and review!
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BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Deneya Selin had never heard a noise as deafening as the blaring bank alarms. Over and over they blasted a frantic beat into her defenseless eardrums. It was almost as though the alarms were bleating out a warning in an unknown language.
BEEP. BEEP.
The jaguar swiveled her head from side to side. She's never seen as much chaos as the scene unfolding before her. Pointed shoes produced repetitive, frantic echoes against the polished linoleum floors. All around her, smartly-dressed businesspeople in tailored skirt-suits and toting fancy leather suitcases dropped their thousand-dollar belongings and lunged for the door...to no avail. The huge, glass double doors were somehow magnetically sealed shut, refusing to budge no matter how hard the civilians pounded on the transparent surface.
Watching the pandemonium develop around her, Deneya simply froze in place, shocked. She felt as though she lost control of her legs, since she found that she couldn't move. Her hazel eyes were wide with shock. The coffee-colored jaguar's handbag fell from her grip, but she didn't even bother glancing down. She was paralyzed with fear.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
This predicament was unimaginable to Deneya, even in her wildest nightmares. This was the last thing she had expected when she arrived at the bank. A successful lawyer living in a luxury high-rise at the center of the city, she had just been planning to make a short cash run.
She remembered waking up, just this morning. Putting on her work clothes. Making her usual cup of coffee, while checking to see her bag had everything she needed in it. Realizing she had to leave early to stop at the bank. Kissing her boyfriend goodbye, promising she'd be back on time for their date that night. She swallowed hard. That had all been not even an hour ago.
Her breathing grew heavier. The image of her boyfriend's face suddenly appeared in her mind, larger than life. She gasped. His image began to fade. A small, dark corner of her mind warned her that this would be the last time she'd see him.
BEEP. BEEP.
The alarms had been set off by the crack of a gunshot. The sudden noise was so unexpected, Deneya had almost brushed it off as a hallucination. However, she was thrown back into reality when another shot rang out mere seconds later, connecting solidly with the chest of the well-dressed security guard standing beside the door. One moment, he was standing tall, more a statue than a man. In the blink of an eye, he was suddenly convulsing on the floor. His regal, picturesque uniform was now tinted in his own shade of red.
The jaguar's gaze had shifted from the gruesome sight, but she found no comfort glancing at the guard who had been stationed on the opposite side of those massive doors. Between the now-lifeless vulpine's unseeing eyes, a trail of blood dripped down his nose.
The shots cut through the air, their death sound mingling with the blaring alarms. More security guards, some disguised as regular civilians, sprung from their posts and attempted to locate the source of the barrage of gunfire, but to no avail. As more and more innocent bodies dropped lifelessly to the linoleum, the odds began to make themselves evident as bullets blazed forward from their unknown location.
Now, it was mere target practice for the shooter.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Ivan Baker despised being a tortoise Unable to dodge the fury of the bullets, he simply gathered himself inside his heavy shell. From within his natural shelter, he was rattled by the shots ricocheting off his back. He gritted his teeth, waiting for the storm of gunfire to cease. He could hear the desperate steps of those around him, and the sudden halt when the bullet met its target. He shuddered, refusing to sneak even the slightest glance of the scene falling apart around him.
The assault of bullets seemed to continue on for days. Ivan squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable shot to seal his fate for good. But, after what could be described as a decade, the gun suddenly silenced. Taking a deep breath, the tortoise shakily extended from his shell. Glancing tentatively around him, he felt his heart flutter weakly at the sight of crimson-soaked bodies. Pools of liquid spread across the polished floors. Still, he couldn't help but give a single sigh of relief.
For the moment, the gunfire had ceased.
BEEP. BEEP.
From high above the frightened townspeople, an unseen mouth curled into a devilish grin. The shooter skillfully took his rifle apart, spreading the pieces within the pipes surrounding him. His gloves prevented any sort of metallic noise that could have given away his location. After he finished up with his weapon, he silently scaled the wall until he was safely back on ground. The shadows still hid his stature from the startled gazes of the innocents.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
"Alright," he rasped. His throaty tone was low, so quiet that it easily was smothered by the panicked shrieks and moans echoing through the building. "You know what to do?" His listener did not respond, and the shooter grew irritated. "Answer," he commanded. Silence.
BEEP. BEEP.
Ivan's head twisted from side to side, taking in the bloody carnage of the victims around him. His eyes grew wider and wider as image after grotesque image flooded his vision. A silent tear slid down from his left eye, catching on the bulky frame of his glasses. The stench of blood flooded the tortoise's nostrils, causing him to gag.
"Hey, is it, like, over?" A twenty-ish blonde skunk, with flowing white hair and a thousand-dollar makeup case, asked loudly. She seemed oblivious to the lifeless corpses around her. The skunk's nasally voice was barely heard over the blaring alarms. "Uhm, can you, maybe, like, shut those off? Thaaanks," she moaned to nobody in particular, eyes rolling up to the ceiling.
Ivan glared at the girl, coughing violently. "Yo," he shouted hoarsely at the skunk. "You blind or something? Try pulling your head out of the center of the universe and actually looking around." He clenched his teeth angrily. "I think there are more important things to deal with besides shutting the alarms off."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The skunk simply rolled her eyes at Ivan, tossing her long hair over her shoulder. This seemed to irk the tortoise even more.
"I figured you were deaf, since you seemed oblivious to the gunshots. But I guess not, if those alarms bother you so much." He smirked. "Guess you're just dumb, then."
The girl let out a small gasp in disbelief, putting a hand over her mouth. "Um, like, excuse me. Do I even know you?" She narrowed her eyes. "Didn't think so," she continued after a moment. "So shut up."
BEEP. BEEP.
Ignoring the loud conversation nearby, Denaya just stared ahead in shock. She still could hear those gunshots ringing in her ears. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to quiet the sound. It was then that she picked up on a voice – low, hoarse. It sounded like it was coming from a shadowed corner, about ten feet from her. She still couldn't move an inch from where she stood, but her head slowly swiveled in the direction of the voice.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
The shooter gritted his teeth. "Still no speaking, huh?" With that, he struck out with a hard hand, hearing the impact against the other's face. "Try it now," he berated.
At first, his only response was heavy breathing. "I can't do this," came the quiet response. This new voice was slow, tentative, as though the speaker was afraid to even utter a breath. However, to experienced ears, the voices of the shooter and his accomplice were similar.
BEEP. BEEP.
"I don't care whether or not you can," said the shooter, who's vocals were notably stronger and more forceful than the other's. He took an intimidating step forward. "But you will. Right now. And if you still refuse..." The sound of a blade grazing against its hilt was heard, and a small glint of light bounced off the edge. "Well," he chuckled. "You know exactly what comes of that, do you not?"
Silence, again. Then the tense quiet was broken not by a voice, but by the rustling of clothing. The shooter cleared his throat. "Wait, wait a sec." He silently pivoted around his accomplice. Putting one hand over their mouth, the shooter slowly sliced across the other's stomach. "Need a stain," he whispered into the other's ear as he cut. His hand tightened over his confederate's mouth, silencing their grunts and moans of pain.
Once he decided he'd done a decent enough cutting job, the shooter stepped back. "Proceed," he commanded gruffly. His accomplice was breathing roughly, but the previous rustling continued. Eventually, the shooter was given a new set of clothes. The shooter grinned, smelling the fresh blood that was soaking into his new attire. A bit more rustling, and his accomplice now was supplied with different clothes. "I knew you'd comply."
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
It was then that a loud thump sounded from the other side of the bank's glass doors. Four police cars had pulled up to the outside of the bank, lights flashing. A squad of ten policemen, gold badges glinting in the sunlight, were repeatedly beating on the heavy doors with their chestnut-colored night sticks.
The shooter glanced over at the cause of this new commotion, rolling his hidden eyes at the policemen's futile attempt to break down the door. "Figures," he muttered. "These idiots just don't know when to quit, do they?" His cruel grin widened as he tapped one of the several buttons adorning his flight gloves.
BEEP. BEEP.
Without warning, a massive explosion blew out the door. The horde crowding the inside of the doorway were blown backward with insane force, some dying just from the impact of the detonation. Others were thrown into walls, necks and limbs snapping at grotesque angles. Pools of blood soon began to coat the gleaming, glossy floor of the bank. The blood of the Ivan Baker, now flowing from a lifeless corpse, mingled with the crimson liquid of other deceased victims as the trail of scarlet spread across the floor.
On the opposite side of the door, the scene was far from better, if not just as bad. Bodies of the police force were scattered, some splayed across the road in the path of approaching vehicles. The lifeless eyes of the policemen were wide. For far too many of those uniformed personnel, the final expression they'd ever construct would be one of plain stupor.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
A few moments after the murderous explosion, notified medics arrived in their white vehicles, sirens wailing. They managed to gather some information about what had occurred from the growing crowd of civilians surrounding the bank. Approaching the scene, the paramedics received little instruction from the few remaining policemen, who seemed to be in a perpetual state of shock.
Luckily, the paramedics figured out what their job was just from surveying the scene. A few tended to the diffused area of officers, while more ran inside the bank to find any survivors. The police officers still in decent enough condition to function edged cautiously towards the door. Bravely, they managed to carefully examine the area where the bomb had gone off.
Curiously, they found that the bomb had been planted inside the building.
BEEP. BEEP.
The shooter smiled cruelly from the shadows. He took great pleasure in watching the medics pile into the bank. "Morons, with their worthless hopes," he rasped quietly as he observed the paramedics, shaking his head. Surveying his bloody handiwork, his unseen eyes met with those of a startled jaguar.
He raised an eyebrow. His gaze never wavering from the jaguar's, he stepped closer to his confederate. "It's showtime," he whispered in the other's ear. Pulling out a pistol, he reached out and shoved his accomplice into the public's view.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
Denaya had shot backward from the blast, but because she wasn't that close to the source she was still conscious. Her arm was bent at a dangerous angle, and blood heavily rushed from where it split open. Still, her eyes remained fixed on the darkened corner. Shaking, she managed to struggle to a standing position. Breathing heavily, she noticed a wolf stumble out from the blackness, squinting from the light.
The lupine was dressed in black from head to toe: a black long-sleeve shirt over dark pants, ebony sneakers and gloves. A dark hat covered the top of his head, but Denaya could still make out the golden tint of his fur. He was turned away from her, his head whipping back and forth. He looked panicked all right, but not like everyone else.
A medic checking the pulse of a fallen mink nearby glanced up, then did a double take as he caught sight of the gold-furred wolf. "Hey! Hey, you!" The medic's voice traveled to the ears of the policemen outside, who immediately rushed in. The wolf backed up as the opposition grew closer, and frantically his gaze shifted again. For the slightest second, his eyes met Denaya's.
BEEP. BEEP.
Denaya had never seen the face of a criminal before. She imagined an expression of harsh indifference, of entertained happiness, or even of simple insanity. Seeing the face of this wolf, she somehow knew the face she was looking at was not one of a criminal. His golden eyes told a different story, one far crueler than even the story of senseless death playing out before them. Something in his eyes told her that he was not the cause of this catastrophe. And, just in that one moment, Denaya felt overcome with an urge to help him. With her common sense gone, she tried to reach into his mind, straight through his eyes.
Those eyes were the last thing Denaya Selin ever saw, before the finalizing echo of a pistol rang through the air.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
BEEP. BEEP.
As the snoopy jaguar lifelessly collapsed to the floor, that lone bullet signaled the end of the shooter's offense. The barrel of his pistol was hot from use.
The authorities rushed into the bank, immediately surrounding the black-clothed wolf, forcing his arms down and twisting his wrists behind his back. Slapping on a pair of handcuffs, the policemen gruffly dragged their prisoner out the door. There was not one glance back.
Kail Xavier raised an eyebrow, looking on from the shadows. He was really going to miss that rifle, but no matter. The deed was done, and now he had managed to erase any traces the police may have had on him. Not a bad day at all.
Emerging into the light, he casually followed the uniformed policemen outside. Blending into the small crowd of injured survivors, he eventually broke free of the horde and continued walking away from the bank. Once he safely crossed the street, he glanced behind him. He managed a quick look at the captive's face.
The gold wolf clad in all black was glaring back at him. Even with the look of pure hatred etched into the lupine's face, his features were still remarkably similar to Kail's. Their fur was the same vibrant shade as well. The opposite wolf's irises flashed angrily, and his snout curled into a snarl. But Kail only smirked back, as the authorities noticed their captive's new expression tightened their grip on their prisoner. The black-clothed wolf winced, and his expression shifted to one of pain. But his eyes remained fixed on Kail, who simply sauntered away. As the shooter safely left the scene of his crime, he glanced down at himself.
The gray shirt he wore was just slightly tight on him, though it still fit. The section of the shirt that was supposed to cover his stomach was torn off, leaving a huge hole. Ominous red stains surrounded the tear, and a line of dried blood dripped down to the end of the shirt. Similar crimson stains dotted his jeans and sneakers. Kail shook his head, a small smile on his face.
"Jeez," he muttered gruffly. "He really needs to take better care of his clothes," He continued on, distancing himself from the fated bank and ignoring the other wolf's golden stare burning into him. He laughed quietly to himself as the sound of those ominous bank alarms followed him.
BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.
BEEP. BEEP.
BEEP.
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Well, there you have it. I dunno, but I wasn't a huge fan of this chapter, even though I edited like a crazy person. There are a lot of questions formed from this, I know, but the answers will come soon enough. Hopefully I won't go on another hiatus. :) Reviews are awesome, people! So, yeah, thanks for reading. More soon!