I hope that everyone enjoys the story. Majority of the credit for this concept should go to nicolaswildes and their awesome Zistopia AU. Go check it out if you haven't already.

In modern society, my profession does not exist. Predators wear collars to prevent us from 'succumbing' to our savage impulses. If our hearts start pumping and emotions begin to run hot, then the collars make us docile.

Or in some instances, kills us.

A 'predator hitman' shouldn't be real. The collar shocks us before we pull the trigger or bare our fangs. This is true for the average predator. Those of us capable of controlling our emotions, and keeping ourselves calm, do not fear the collar's bite.

My mind is what keeps it in check. I do not fly off the handle or make irrational decisions. I look at what needs to be done, and I do it. Taking an animals life is a means to an end. Nothing more.

My name is Emmitt Otterton, and killing others is my job.

"Okay Otterton, listen up, because you've only got one shot at this and the clock is ticking down faster than a cheetah with his tail on fire." Redmane was riled up enough that his collar was blinking an annoyed yellow. If he kept at it he would be feeling several shocks very soon.

I polietely remind him to keep his temper down. "I'm almost offended that you feel the need to treat me like some jumped up punk-rocker off the streets. You wanted a professional and so here I am. Explain the situation before you're collar puts you down." Just because the job was important didn't mean he had to start letting his hackles rise.

The hyena gangster gave me a glare, not liking being told how to act, but took my advice. He grabbed a small joint from the weathered ashtray on his desk and lit it up, taking in several long drags before speaking again. The light on his collar shifted to a solid green.

"Fine," he exhaled through a puff of smoke. "Now be quiet."

"For the past few months I've been using an accountant, Clarence Clovenbach, to shift my money around. I was using him to make sure everything looked legit and I didn't get hooked by some tax bullshit. I mostly used him to hide my money in 'business ventures' and public works. Stuff that could hide a lot of dough without being questioned.

"Let me guess," I interrupt. "He found out that you've been running a highly successful criminal operation, spanning almost half the city, and is now threatening to go to the cops."
Eddie nodded his head. "Yeah, that's pretty much it. He came in this morning demanding to know what was going on. I told him that everything was fine and that he was just misreading some things. He said that none of the numbers added up and I was definietly apart of something fishy. He gave me twenty-four hours to confess, or he'd give everything he had to the ZPD."

Retelling the exchange made Redmane's lips rise, showing off his impressive set of teeth. I suspect he realized what was happening and instead of going off the handle, took another long drag from the joint. Burning it down to nothing more than a small roach.
"I've got a number of cops under my paw right now, but no one high enough to make this disappear." He jabbed a finger almost as long as my arm at me. "Which is where you come in."

I nodded once, mentally preparing myself for the night ahead. Before I could ask where Clarence lives, Redmane began speaking.

"It does kind of bum me out though," he said with that airy tone many stoners have. "He's one of those prey that doesn't fear us preds. If he wasn't such a narc I could have seen us working together for a little while." Eddie remaines silent, letting his comment hang in the air like a fruit ripe for the picking.

After working with him several times I learned that a side effect of his smoking often led him to day dreaming. Trying to make him refocus on the conversation would only make it worse, so I let him work back on his own time.

Being my first time in his office, I looked it over while he tried to refocus. Several large filing cabinets sat behind his desk. They're rumored to be brimming with information about animals all over the city. His organization mostly focused on stealing and fencing goods, but they were just as talented as blackmailers and information gatheres. I wouldn't have been surprised if there was a file on me in one of those drawers.

Aside from the cabinets and his desk, the rest of the office was laid out like some kind of lounge. There were plenty of comfy, though aged, looking furniture for animals of all sizes to rest on. A fully stocked bar, with both alcohol and drugs, and a large radio set near the entrace that was busy playing The Horsey Brothers.

There were several pictures of Redmane and friends throughout the room. In some of them they were dressed in flashy suits or driving open topped cars in the city. Others were just framed mug shots of past and present crew members.

Redmane's eyes eventually wandered down from the ceiling and we were back to business.

"He needs to be taken out. Tonight. Whatever it takes."

While there were hundreds of ways to kill, sometimes clients liked it done in a certain style. "Is there any special requests you have for tonight?"

Eddie shook his head slowly. "I don't care how you do it, as long as it doesn't get traced back to me."

A final nod. "You've already paid my consultation fee. The rest I will expect tomorrow evening by seven sharp, along with two grand extra because it's a rush job. Give me his address and let me handle the rest."

"He lives down in Savanna Central in the Jabali Street Apartments, room 604. Last I heard he lived alone."

"Good. You'll see me tomorrow." Our business now settled I left the stoned hyena alone with his wandering thoughts.