AN: So I decided to write a Zootopia fanfiction NOT revolving around our favorite duo, but this time we're mainly focussing on my OCs. It's still going to happen in Zootopia, don't worry, it's just not going to be a WildeHopps story.

Aside from that, I'm not sure when I'm able to update this story as I still have my main story Hidden and my side story Upside Down going on, but I won't abandon any of them, so no worries.

I also don't know how long this story is going to be as I have quite some stuff planned out for this one, including drama, romance, and crime. From everything a little dash. So do expect some angst, fluff, and some good ol' fashioned murder. Have fun!

PS: Zootopia and its characters belong to Disney. OCs belong to me.


The calming humming sounds of the bus were the only thing I was able to hear over the music blaring through my headphones as the city I thought I had left behind passed me by. It felt weird to see the town again. It felt like I was taking a trip down memory lane, the nostalgic feeling creeping into my head as the houses, the trees, the mammals passed by. Nothing had changed. Houses were cloned, trees and bushes trimmed, mammals still faking their hospitality. Nothing would ever change in a district like the Meadowlands, the mammals were narrow-minded and unnecessarily bourgeois. I chuckled as I thought about the size of the stick up their asses.

But was I any different than any of them? Did I change at all during my time in college? We all like to think that we move like water through life, flexible and flowing, easily adjusting to any situation in life. But I had to disagree. I thought we were more like a rubber band, still flexible and formable, but no matter how much you adjust to your environment, deep down we all return to our old ways.

I thought I could make it through college. I really thought I had it in me, the dedication, the determination, and several other -ations. My family, my friends, hell even my grumpy neighbor Mr. Lesterson thought I could make it. I was a rubber band that had been stretched too far. I had stretched my expectations, and eventually I snapped.

It was strange. One moment we think we have it all figured out. The next moment the universe decides to fuck everything up and just leaves us stranded on an island full of uncertainties. It sucked. But that's just life.

The sound of tires screeching on the asphalt suddenly pulled me out of my mullings as my mind finally registered that I had reached my bus stop. Ripping the headphones from my ears, I quickly exited the vehicle as I stepped out into the cold night air. I could see my breath coming out of my long canine snout as I heard the bus behind me leaving the bus station, the air returning to its serene silence. Putting my paws into my hoodie pocket I started to move swiftly through the neighborhood, the few street lanterns luckily being the only thing illuminating the dark streets. It wasn't like I was afraid of the dark, hell no. Quite on the contrary, I loved night time, when everything was calm and quiet. No sounds, no mammals. Time seemed to be standing still during night, and it gave me the opportunity to think clearly.

My body was basically on auto-pilot as my feet carried me without any further ado through the neighborhood until I stood in front of a mediocre two story building. It was like flipping through an old photo album. Everything was the same, the worn white walls, the grimy window frames with the immaculately clean glass, the rampant weed in front of the porch no one wanted to get rid off, the dirty navy shingles on the roof, and the old rusted mail-box by the pavement.

A smile tugged on my lips as my blue eyes roamed the familiar building I had spent most of my life in. It wasn't much by anything, mind you. My mom worked by the church and worked her ass off in order to take care of us. I never knew my dad, that bastard left us as soon as he noticed that he didn't have any love left for my mother and me. So she had always been the only breadwinner in this household. We didn't have a car, we didn't have any luxuries like a flatscreen or a pool, but who the hell needs that shit? 'Stay humble," my mom used to say, 'That way you learn to appreciate the important things in live.'

I suddenly realized how much I actually missed home. Going to college was fun and all, but nothing beat the feeling of coming home, real home. Home is when mammals notice that you are gone. And I didn't need to read the hundreds of texts from my mom to know that she had missed me as well.

Stepping forward towards the worn wooden front door, I swiftly pulled out my keys, the movement seared into my muscle memory as I unlocked the door before stepping into the familiar warmth of home, not just the literal warmth of the interior, but also the warmth inside of me as my eyes roamed the place I cherished the most.

"Mom?" I called as I closed the door behind me, "I'm home!"

"Jay?" a muffled voice sounded from somewhere in the house.

Immediately I could hear someone frantically moving above my head, the floorboards creaking as a female maned wolf finally rushed down the steps. Her eyes lit up in joy as soon as they fell upon me and I just couldn't help but to smile upon seeing her.

"Hey mom," I greeted before she quickly crossed the hallway, enwrapping me in a bone crushing hug I happily reciprocated. God, how much I had missed this. Her smell, her touch. Immediately all of my worries, my issues just faded away and melted like butter as I could feel my tense muscles relax. Only a mother's hug could do something like this. I wasn't sure how long we hugged each other, but eventually we broke apart as I looked into the slightly teary eyes of my mother as she gently stroked my facial fur,

"Gosh, you look horrible. Are you eating enough?" she chuckled. I rolled my eyes as I answered amusedly,

"I missed you too, mom."

"How was your ride? Are you hungry? Or cold? I hope it wasn't too inconvenient. You know I would have picked you up if I had a car.." she rambled before I stopped her by putting my paws on her shoulders.

"I'm fine, mom," I chuckled, "Just tired, but that's about it. And besides, I'm twenty-one years old, I think I can take care of myself, don't you think?"

"You don't get to play the adult card, you're still my baby, no matter how old you are," she retorted, a smirk on her lips as she turned around to walk towards the kitchen, "What do you want to eat? We have pancakes, cereal, toast?"

I just shook my head as I followed her into the cramped space,

"No thanks, I'm not hungry, and I'm not a baby. I'm taller than you!" I joked as I took a seat by the kitchen table, setting down my backpack on the floor and watching as my mother turned around, crossing her arms and watching me skeptically.

"So you're a big baby, doesn't matter. A mother is still allowed to love her child, isn't she?" she retorted before taking a seat opposite to me. I couldn't help but smile as I continued to chat with the most important lady in my life. This was what I had missed so dearly, the small interactions, the chatting, the jokes and teasing. Everything seemed perfect, as if nothing had changed at all. Again it was just her and me, both of us seemingly against the world. For a while I thought all was fine. At least it lasted for a few blissful seconds before she decided to speak up,

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Her smile slightly dropped as she softened her gaze, her loving and concerned green eyes gauging my reaction as I tried to appear as nonchalant as possible. Apparently I wasn't the greatest actor as my mom's expression immediately saddened as soon as I turned my head away, averting eye contact as my voice lowered,

"There's nothing to talk about," I responded, my fingerpads sliding over the cleanly polished kitchen table as I fidgeted in my seat.

"Jay," she spoke up again, "You know you can talk to me about anythi-"

"I already told you there is nothing to talk about!" I raised my voice, spinning around to glare at her, fangs bared and muscles tensed. But as soon as my eyes fell on the surprised expression on her face, anger melted into guilt as I softened my gaze and tried to calm myself down, closing my eyes and taking a few calming breaths...

10…. 9…. 8….

Inhale… exhale…

7… 6… 5… 4…

I could feel her grasp as she slid her own paw over the table to grab mine, gently stroking it with her thumb, my ears picking up the faint sigh escaping her lips,

3… 2… 1…

Sighing tiredly, I opened my eyes just to see the heartbroken face of my concerned mother, her eyes misty as she watched her messed up son. Turning my paw I took hers into mine as I reciprocated the gesture, my gaze returning to stare blankly at the table as I lowered my voice,

"I… I'm fine, mom. Don't worry about it."

She didn't look satisfied with my answer, I wasn't either. But that's just the way it was. I wasn't ready for this kind of talk. Especially not now. Not tomorrow. Maybe in a few weeks. Maybe never. Who the fuck knows.

"Alright," she eventually huffed, putting on a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she regarded me, tightening her grasp on my paw, "It's late. Maybe you should go to bed.."

"Yeah.." I muttered before I stood up from my chair, the old wood creaking from my weight. Grabbing my backpack, I started to walk towards the door. The room was warm. The heater was up. Windows closed.

Then why was it so cold?

As I reached the threshold I stopped in my tracks before muttering a silent,

"Goodnight."

With that I left the kitchen and started to ascend the stairs towards my old bedroom. I didn't hear a response from my mother, not like I expected anything. I didn't think I really deserved an answer, not even a simple goodnight. Here I was, returning home and invading my mother's house, yelling at her without any reason. As I stood in front of the closed door of my old bedroom, guilt started to swell inside of me. I felt like dirt. I felt like the biggest disappointment.

I felt like my dad. It was always the same old story.

Eventually I tried to push these thoughts away as I opened the door, the hinges squeaking as it swung open, revealing the cramped space that was my room. As I entered the room, setting down my bag on the floor, I noticed how little had actually changed. The single bed to my right in the back of the room, my desk to my left, old wooden wardrobe right beside the door, and the shelves filled with novels, horror stories, and fables I had inherited from my grandfather. It was exactly like I had left it two years ago. The only difference being that it was clean. I raised an intrigued brow as I noticed that I was actually able to see the floor. My mom always hated how messy I was. Don't get me wrong, I don't like the mess either, but I was also incredibly lazy. Why bother making the bed when I'm going to sleep in it later anyways? I always told my mom that my room was less of a mess but more of an organized chaos. I knew where everything was. If I threw anything on the floor then I would remember exactly where it would be. There was a system behind it all. Well, my mom's reaction to that was calling my system dumb, and I honestly think that's the closest she ever gotten to an anarchist.

Sighing, I swiftly closed the door, not bothering to turn on the lights as the moon provided plenty of light through the windows as I crossed the room, steering towards my bed. To say I was tired would be the biggest understatement of the century. That's what thirteen hours of riding the bus do to your body. I specifically didn't want to go to a college here in Zootopia. I loved the city life, no doubt. But when you spend your whole life living on these streets you yearn for a change of pace. I wanted to see the world, I wanted to expand my horizon beyond the skyscrapers and streets I have seen my whole life. So I had decided to go to a college in Deerbrooke, a smaller city a few hundred miles south from Zootopia, away from all the hustle and bustle, away from friends and family.

As I reached my modest bed I immediately crashed onto the mattress, my body slumping and muscles relaxing in an instance as I closed my weary eyes. The clean sheets and the soft mattress felt like utter heaven. If there was a ranking list of things that felt the best, falling onto your bed after a long day would definitely be second place, right behind peeing after holding it in for hours. Chris had already asked me several times why sex wasn't in first place. Well, how was I supposed to rank sex if I was a fucking virgin? Chris only response to that was calling me a "Fucking loser", fair enough.

Speaking of the devil. As I thought about that certain snow leopard, my phone inside my pocket started to vibrate, announcing a call. Grumbling tiredly I rolled onto my side as I reached lazily for my phone, not bothering to open my eyes and keeping my bodily movements to a complete minimum as I answered the call and putting it on speaker before I grunted a muffled,

"Hello?"

"You're actually back!" a juvenile voice blared through the speakers, causing me to flatten my ears.

"Yeah, I'm back," I mumbled as I rolled onto my back, staring blankly at the ceiling as I listened to my best friend's voice,

"Holy shit, it's true! Sam actually said the truth," Chris chuckled, causing me to smile as I answered, my mind slightly awakening as I talked to the feline,

"When was the last time Sam ever lied?"

"Tou-sh," Chris answered amusedly. I raised a questioning brow as I tried to figure out what the hell he was saying, until it dawned onto me. I tried my best not to burst into laughter as I answered,

"It's 'Touché', dumbass," I laughed.

"Whatever, do I look like I speak Spanish?" Chris chuckled back. This time I actually raised my head to look at the phone screen. I was about to speak up before the snow leopard continued flatly,

"I'm kidding. God, do you seriously think I'm that stupid?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

"Don't."

I chuckled as I laid my head back down on the mattress as I closed my eyes. Among the things I had missed the most, talking and spending time with Chris and Sam was definitely up top. I had known the two of them since my childhood and we were best friends ever since. Growing up in the same neighborhood allowed the three of us to see each other every day, so it was only natural for us to do just that, running around the streets, doing dumb shit kids just do, harassing the elder neighbors, and just being a huge pain in the ass for the other mammals. It was great.

"Anyways. Since your ass is here now, we should definitely meet up."

"That sounds gay as fuck. Continue," I chuckled.

"Shut up, you know what I mean," he retorted, though I could hear him smiling over the phone, "Let's go to the Central Park tomorrow. Just you, me, and Sam. Like the old times, you know? You and Sam can talk about the boring shit while I'm actually entertaining."

"Har har, very funny," I answered.

"I know. Thank you for finally acknowledging my humor."

"Alright, walked into that one," I chuckled as I rubbed my eyes before releasing a sigh, "So what time you wanna meet up?"

"Lunch time? Around noon?"

"Sounds good. I'll see you guys there," I answered, my voice slurred and my eyes closed as my mind was already drifting into desperately needed sleep. My mind barely registered Chris' answer as he hung up and I was already on the verge of unconsciousness, my body growing numb and my mind falling asleep as I drifted into nothingness.

-o-

I didn't know how long I was actually asleep, but as I awakened drechned in my own sweat, panting heavily as my heart seemed to be racing a thousand miles per hour, I was sure it couldn't have been long. Putting a paw onto my heaving chest and trying to calm down my rigid body, I closed my eyes as I controlled my breathing.

Exhale... inhale.

Slowly yet steadily my body relaxed until I was finally able to sit on my bed without worrying to throw up. My heart was still beating rapidly, but had slowed down considerably.

Why the hell did I wake up looking like a panicked pup? My clothes were literally soaked, I noticed as I glanced down on my body. I hadn't made the effort to change them since I came home, and now they reeked as if I hadn't showered in weeks. Scrunching my nose I quickly took off my sweater and shirt until I sat topless on my bed, my eyes staring blankly at nothing and everything at the same time. My mind was racing. My body was tense. I could still feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins. But as I sat on top of my sheets, I couldn't remember by my life what I have dreamt of. It was gone. Whatever I had dreamt of, it must have been obviously something terrifying. Something that shook me to the core.

But what was it? I could only remember faint images, not literal images. More like abstract perceptions. I could smell things, something murky, something reeking. I could hear screams, whimpers. Sickening thuds of flesh connecting with flesh. I could smell blood.

A shudder ran down my spine and I could suddenly feel the bile rising in my throat as I shot up from my bed before rushing over to my window. Swiftly opening it, I took several calming breaths, relishing the fresh night air as my wide eyes roamed blankly the streets. Everything was calm, everything was serene. A sickening contrast to the warzone inside my mind.

But as I stood there by my window, my arms supporting my weight as I leaned onto the frame, my lungs desperately yearning for fresh air, my body again slowly relaxed. For my liking I had way too many breakdowns in the last few hours. This wasn't like me. Normally I would get these kinds of panic attacks once in a while, maybe two or three times a month. Never in such a short interval. What was happening to me?

I'm just tired, I tried to tell myself as I continued to watch the streets from above. But if I was so tired, why couldn't I fall asleep? Glancing to my right, I could see my digital clock reading 3:24 am. It was way too early to wake up. My body felt like lead, my mind was heavy, and I was beyond tired. Yet I couldn't think of going to sleep. Something kept me from getting back into bed and falling into nothingness. I knew exactly what it was.

It was fear. Fear of returning to that world of uncertainty, of blood and screaming. So what do mammals like me do when they are scared? They make a run for it. Of course not literally. Instead I decided to just do something I had always done in my childhood when I was afraid.

Taking another steadying breath I returned to my bed to pick up my phone and to put on another sweater before I returned to the window. Swiftly and without sparing another thought, I climbed out of the window before landing on top of my projecting roof, the dark blue shingles beneath my paws felt cold as ice as I stepped further out into the night. Finding my spot, I seated myself on the edge of the roof as I started to stare out into the night. I wasn't exactly looking for anything as my eyes darted around the area. I watched how the spruces and firs danced in the wind, I listened how the forest a few yards away from my house whispered to me, the sounds of leaves rustling and crickets chirping, the sound of water rushing from a nearby river. The cold yet calming light from the moon and stars as they sparkled like tiny fires among the dark firmament above my head. It was wonderful.

I used to come up here all the time when I felt out of place. Whenever I felt like a misplaced piece of puzzle in this world, whenever I was sad or angry. My therapist had told me it was a good way of coping with these kinds of feelings, he had told me it was a good way of coping. I initially had thought it was bullshit, but after having spent a considerable amount of time just sitting here at night, watching how the world and time passed me by, I started to believe him. It was balm for my scarring soul. Staring up at the stars, into the broad expense of the universe, it made me feel so tiny. So small and irrelevant. It made me forget my problems, which were so puny and minor in contrast with the world out there. None of it mattered as soon as my eyes roamed the firmament above me. It calmed my soul to know, that no matter how much would happen, no matter how drastically my life might change, there would always be one consistency in my life. The stars would always be up above my head, they will always remind me of how meaningless my problems were, they would always reassure me that everything would eventually be alright.

I remembered how I used to sit up here with Chris and Sam. We would lay down on a blanket on the roof and have a picnic up here while watching the sunset or -rise. I remember how we chatted, joked and teased each other. I remember how he used to watch how the water rose dangerously as a storm flooded the Meadowlands a few years back, and how Chris joked about how cars would soon be irrelevant and how we would have to travel by boats and canoes. How Sam had socked him in his shoulder as she had scolded him for telling such a horrible joke, even though she had laughed as well. I remembered how genuine everything was, how carefree we had lived. It was just us three against the world. A smile tugged on my lips as all the wholesome memories reappeared in my mind. All the times I actually felt happy in this part of town.

Rustle

My ears shot up upon hearing the faint sound, my eyes immediately roaming the area as I looked around. It came from somewhere in the woods, among the shadows of the trees and bushes.

"Hello?" I called out into the darkness as I stood up from my seating position, my eyes locked with whatever was out there. Just as expected I didn't receive an answer. Was it just the wind rustling through the trees? No I couldn't be. The sound was way too loud compared to the faint rustling from the wind. It sounded distorted, unnatural. It sounded mammal-made.

"Who's there?" I called, again met with silence. But it wasn't serene silence. It was tense. I could feel my palms getting sweaty as I clenched my fists, my eyes focussed onto the trees a few yards away from my porch. My ears swiveled around, trying to pick up any more sounds that could tell me who was hiding among the shadows. I felt like I was being watched, I felt vulnerable not knowing who was there.

But as I continued to watch the woods, nothing reached either my eyes or ears. Whoever or whatever had been there, was gone. Tense silence returned to calming tranquility.

"Huh, weird," I muttered to no one in particular. Maybe it really was just the wind and my tired mind was playing tricks on me. Maybe it was my paranoia, or I was just nervous from the nightmare. It didn't matter, right?

I was about to sit back down as another sound reached my ears, causing me stop dead in my tracks. This time, it was definitely not the wind. No, it was way too close to me, way too loud to be something natural caused by the wind. I noticed that the sound came from below me.

Turning around and glancing down, my blue eyes landed upon a seemingly insignificant pinecone, laying in the grass. Swallowing nervously I looked back up as I glanced around the neighborhood. No trees.

How the hell did that pinecone get here?, I wondered. I was just about to just dismiss it and brush it off as something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. Spinning around just in time, I was able to witness as something was hurled from the darkness of the woods as it flew straight at me, or at least into my direction as it landed in the grass below me right beside the other pinecone. It was another cone.

Now it was certain. Someone was definitely out there.

"Hey! Who's there?" I yelled as I stared out into the woods, my eyes watching for any movement at all. Not seeing anything, somehow my mind came up with the ingenious idea to investigate it further. Mammals always used to make fun of the actors in horror movies who were too dumb to just run away. Instead they would investigate the strange sound or something else, and surprise surprise! They die. I don't know why I did it, but my body was seemingly moving on its own as it was leading me right into the climax of the horror movie.

I swiftly climbed down from the projecting room before jumping into the slightly wet grass, ignoring the cold creeping up my legs as I steered for the woods from where the pinecone came from. I started running, not wanting the mystery mammal to run off. But as I reached the edge of the woods I halted in my tracks, my chest heaving from the running as my ears perked up, trying to catch any extraordinary sounds. My eyes darted around the place, looking for anything out of place, but after spending several minutes not picking up any sounds or seeing anything, I had to acknowledge defeat, my shoulders slumping as I let out a sigh. My lungs were still struggling to catch air as I slumped down, putting my paws onto my knees.

"Man, I should really quit smoking," I mumbled to myself, already knowing that I could never quit smoking. I remained for a couple more seconds just standing by the edge of the forest trying to catch my breath until I eventually decided to retreat to my house. Whoever had been here was gone. I felt nervous, and to be honest slightly terrified. The fact that someone had been watching me while sitting on top of the roof the whole time raised a lot of red flags, especially since I lived in the Meadowlands. The biggest crime spree ever seen in these parts of Zootopia were a series of vandalism as some shitty teens had been spraying graffiti all over the place. I knew of it because Chris and me were said shitty teens.

Trying to shake off the unsettling feeling I quickly turned around and started to jog back towards my house, leaving the woods behind me. As I came closer to my house my eyes fell upon the two pinecones lying in the grass in front of my porch and my projecting roof. Deciding to investigate them, I picked both of them up, my paws feeling the rough texture of the cones as I glanced over them. Aside from being ordinary cones they were…

… just that. Ordinary cones. Pinecones from pines. I didn't know what I had expected. Shaking my head I mentally kicked myself for being so paranoid. What did I expect from these cones? That they would somehow magically turn into grenades? That some sick stalker probably jacked off to some fucked up fetish that included throwing pinecones at lone teens? It was ridiculous! It wasn't like that there would be… would… a…

"What the..?" I uttered as my eyes fell on something strange stuck between the scales, something white. It was a piece of paper. Someone had stuck it between the scales just to throw it later in my direction. Whoever had been out there watching me had sent me a message.

Intrigued, I stuck my claws in between the scales as I picked out the small piece of paper, quickly noticing that it was folded together. I frowned as I dropped the cone, now fully focussed on the message, and as soon as I unfolded it, my curious expression quickly shifted into pure terror and confusion.

Three words. Three simple words that shook me to the core as I stood in my front yard, staring down at the message that would probably haunt me for the next few weeks. Whoever had been out there, who had been most likely stalking me was no stranger. It was someone who knew me, someone who knew my name and where I lived.

Welcome home, Jay. *


AN: Please leave a review and comment! It would make me the happiest writer on earth! Love ya guys!

Until next time!

~Bye!