A cold paw reached for the door, coming into contact with metal that felt even colder. His paws always became cold when he was nervous, and it was something he always hated, probably because it intensified the uneasy feelings he so often had. He pushed against the door with all of his weight. It was heavy, more so than originally anticipated. He never understood the real reason some doors felt like this. He wondered if it made the mammal behind the door feel more powerful or demeaning.
It made sense for this one. He was The Boss, after all.
Cold. Everything was cold. His paws, the door, and even the air that blasted him in the face as he entered the pitch black room. The door slammed shut behind him with all of its weight, causing a metallic clank to echo in the seemingly endless darkness. The sound caused his fur to stand on end as he flinched and turned back towards the door which was no longer visible. He looked around and blinked several times as his eyes adjusted to the darkness before continuing forward. He vaguely caught sight of a chair about ten feet in front of him.
"Have a seat." a shrill voice commanded. He jumped at the sound and scurried over to the chair, not wanting to keep the other mammal waiting. He sat and nearly jumped out of the chair as he felt it's surface; metal, and just as cold as everything else in the room, including the voice that accompanied him. A few moments passed in total silence save for the dull patter of footsteps on linoleum that slowly closed the distance between the two mammals.
A click and then blindness. His paw shot up to the left side of his face as he shielded his eyes from the sudden light. They adjusted quickly, though all he could see was the polished floor beneath him and a figure standing just on the edge of the light coming from the lamp, back turned to him.
"Weaselton." the figure stated, hints of impatience in the quick and concise delivery.
"Yeah boss?" the weasel replied. He had been called to the boss' quarters, and the nerve which accompanied him was most likely due to the mystery behind the calling. He had only met with the boss directly on a couple of occasions, and he still didn't know exactly what he looked like. Each of those times had been the most terrifying experience of his life, and right now was quickly elevated to a level of fear far greater than ever before.
"Do you know why we have called you here tonight?" the boss asked. His voice was powerful and it bounced off the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room they were in. The tone of the boss' voice made Weaselton think that this was not going to end well. He knew that the boss was not one to be angered. He noticed a slight twitch from the boss' shadowy figure.
"N… no, s...s… sir." he stuttered. He hadn't intended for his response to come out so shaky, but he really couldn't help it with how petrified he was. Weaselton thought he heard the boss scoff at his response.
"We understand you are familiar with an old colleague of ours. One Nicholas Wilde?" His query was emotionless as if he were negotiating a business deal, but the words penetrated the overwhelming silence like a sharp knife.
"I am, sir," Weaselton replied, this time with much more confidence than before. He didn't know what it was about hearing Nick's name, but it put him a little bit more at ease. It was probably the fact that Nick had a sense of morals, much unlike the other in the room with him.
The figure began pacing in circles, always being sure to stay just far enough away from the lamp to keep his face hidden in the shadows.
"Then you know that he is a threat!" the boss exclaimed, sharply turning to face Weaselton. His red eyes seemed to glow in the darkness and some of his white fur became visible, gleaming in the lamplight. The Boss was furious. "He knows too much about what we do! If we know the real Nick Wilde, then he would not hesitate to use that knowledge to take us out!" The weasel looked to the lamp and scowled before turning back to his pacing around Weaselton.
He knew why he was called to this strange meeting now. He was being given an assignment, and he was feeling very inclined to take it. A look of determination replaced his previously terrified expression.
"What do you need me to do, boss?" he asked calmly. The boss looked out of the corner of his eyes at the weasel in the chair, a devious grin creeping onto his muzzle.
"We need him gone, but you know how much we hate to get our paws dirty. You have proven to us over the last few months that you are a grade-A sales mammal." Weaselton couldn't help but feel a smidgen of pride. He had worked for this particular mammal for several years, but recently he'd been doing a lot more than his regular duties required him. He was hoping to move up in the organization, and it appeared that the boss was taking notice.
"We want, no… we need you to convince Wilde to quit the police force. You know we're not ones for violence, and if the fox doesn't have any authority over us, then there really is nothing he can do. It's the only way we can be sure that business continues as usual, and we will not take no for an answer. You got that?" Weaselton straightened up in the chair.
"I won't let you down, boss." he replied with gusto.
"Good. Then get the hell out of our sight." the boss commanded coldly. Weaselton jumped out of the chair and scurried over to where he thought the door was, only to run straight into the wall next to it. He quickly corrected his mistake and opened the large and heavy door. It shut with the echo of a metallic clunk.
The remaining weasel stayed in the dark. He was more comfortable there. He had never been fond of sunlight, and even the brightness of the lamp was too much for him. He grabbed the switch and twisted it to turn off the lamp. He stood in total darkness for a few moments before speaking to himself out loud.
"You better not let us down, otherwise we'll have to take things into our own paws." he mumbled, letting out a shriek of laughter before skipping off to the other end of the room and disappearing into the darkness.