SEVEN
Swimming
Nick
As much as I wanted to, I couldn't blame this on me, however, that didn't make me feel better. I still had a dent in my stride and a limp to my face, like I was ashamed to be alive. I wasn't ashamed as much as I was disappointed.
If I had just been one second faster back in Judy's apartment...
That was mute now, as I was left in the center of this escapade, while Judy was hurt. Alive, but hurt...
Crippled, was how the doctors put it. She had her left foot crudely sawed off, made immobile by the only survivor of this new trio, Halatheon. Nobody knew where he was, due to the car Fin tagged being traced to a muddy ditch a mile south of the city.
I told Bogo about the box, and he looked just as mortified as I did when he saw it, but with a trace more of anger. Anger and drive to find Halatheon. But that was two days ago, I haven't seen him since, he hadn't even stopped by to see Judy. The entire ZPD was out looking for Halatheon now, with Finnick helping, surprisingly. Apparently he had been asked by Bogo for aid. The Chief must have been desperate to work with a criminal like Fin... better him than scum like me.
Judy was in a coma, but even if she was awake, I wasn't permitted to enter her room, due to Bogo's wish. It gave me a morbid strip of peace to know he still hated me.
Allister, on the other side of consciousness, was awake. I feared that he had told the doctors about how he'd sent me to kill her, but nobody asked me any questions, or tried to keep an eye on my presence. Maybe he's just waiting to use this against me. I only saw a quick glimpse of his room before they shut up for the night, and he looked like a corpse. Missing patches of fur, gloomy eyes, and broken quick breaths helped paint his aura of death. He had to have the bullets surgically removed, due to them being too ingrained in his body, with two hitting his lungs. He was rigged to several large machines just to keep him alive. Apparently it would be half a year before he could breathe on his own again.
Despite his position, and his doom to decompose in prison for his remaining years, I knew he was happy. He wanted this, he wanted me to hurt... to break. I might never understand him, why one hour he'd help me flee the country, then the next grin at the sight of my melancholia, but I did know one thing about him; He'd never be able to hurt me or Judy again.
As I said, I couldn't blame myself for this. This was Judy's doing. For my safety, sure... but she still killed chuck... I don't know if she would get off for that. ...No, I know she wouldn't. It was murder in the first degree. She'd be lucky just to get twenty years jailed.
Sitting alone was excruciating. I would talk to Finnick on days like this, back before the Trio, when the hours were too slow to pull cons. Chuck never liked to talk for too long, causing those days to lead me to nostalgia, but despite Fin's tough nature, he was a good listener. He was off aiding the ZPD now, out of some deep rooted respect for me, hunting down Halatheon just to keep me safe. Almost like Judy... just less... bloodthirsty, I hope.
I let my head fall into my hands, trying to cry, but left only with the pain refusing to escape. Maybe this was my fault. The only three people I still cared about in my life all threw something huge away just to help me. McHorn with his life, Judy, her mobility and badge, and Fin's... well, it would only be a matter of time before he got hurt, and nobody would remind me that I was the cause... just me. Christ, I do blame myself... looking back on it, I don't know why I wanted it. Maybe just to mentally point a finger. Make it feel like this was an effect to a cause.
I felt a hand on my shoulder, slow, but heavy. "Hey, Jamie." I sigh after looking up.
"Nicholas." He says back, sitting down next to me. He had on his red suit, fit the with dead-pan blue tie. Apart from his fur, he could never pass for my brother. He looked, sounded, and acted nothing like me. Well, at least when I was at my peak.
Jamie never liked Allister, not even before he snapped. His hate towards him only accelerated once Thorn made a name for himself in the criminal underworld. Although mom never told us, it was my theory that Jamie was actually my half-brother, Allister stepping in after mom's first marriage failed, and leading to my brother's hatred. I'm not sure Jamie knew either, but he was determined to ignore and separate himself from da... from Allister as much as he could. He was only a few years older than me, but in his stance and in his figure he looked to be about 50. He and I were on good terms, but we still never kept in casual contact. He felt more like a cousin than a brother, to be honest. "Have you seen him yet?" He asked, opening a briefcase and pulling out some papers, probably work-related.
I shook my head. "No, and I don't think they'd let me." I would tell him it's because of the Trio, but he didn't know. And I really didn't want to get another animal hurt because of it. "At least not yet."
"Well, they better not let me in there. I'd tear that bastard to shreds if given a knife or something." I nodded, not really agreeing. I could never kill an animal. Not even a monster... not even myself. He handed me one of his papers after a few seconds of mumbling. Written in fancy blue font read "Last Will and Testament of Allister T. Wilde"
Before I could read it, Jamie patted my shoulder again. "It's still valid. That's really the only reason I came out here. Hell, I don't even want to say a final 'fuck you' to the guy... it's too good for him, ya know?" He rambled, much to my disinterest. Allister didn't have much to give away, aside from various trinkets, and a small vacation home addressed to the both of us, one that burnt down recently... probably due to him. What really snagged my attention was an aside from the script, written in red.
To Nicholas and Jamison Wilde,
11-12-34
"His safe..." I whispered. Jamie nodded slowly, taking the paper back to its den.
"I already had a crack at it. It was still in the house, believe it or not. I didn't find anything, though. Just a bunch of pictures of him and some mouse." He sighed. To be completely honest, I was disappointed that he and I wouldn't be able to open the box together, even if it was just a bunch of old pictures, it still would have been nice to connect with Jamie a bit more. He and I never had a bond to repair, but at least I would have somebody to talk to... even if it was Jamie.
I ruffled my neck fur, still matted and dirty from not showering since the night at Judy's. "Where'd you get the will, anyway...?" I heaved out, just trying to keep conversation alive.
"I work in law, remember?"
"Oh. Right." Well, so much for that.
Jamie let out a silent burp, covering his mouth with a fist, straining at the taste. He coughed a little, but eventually regained his posture. "Christ... that was the food they sell here, fighting back and all. It tasted like rotting sauerkraut. Or like when someone-" I droned his words out again, my mind fixated on the horror of Judy's foot floating in its own blood in that box. The simple remembrance of the image made me want to vomit. And that smell... it shouldn't have smelled like that... it shouldn't have... I strained my mind to focus on a brighter image, something I've been doing way too forcefully, way too often. All I was able to advert my brain to, was the chance that Judy was going to make it. She didn't lose too much blood, the doctor told me, and was only in a coma. Animals survive comas all the time. She just needs a little bit of it.
When Judy wakes up, the first thing I do, before the police take her badge, before they determine her judicial fate, before anything... I come clean. I tell her the entire story, no lies, no detail left out... no matter how grim. My father, how I met Chuck, the Trio, Mr. Big... Mom... everything. I cost her an appendage, almost her life, and way too much trouble than all of this drama was really worth.
"...But then it just ends up cold an hour later, I-I just don't understand how... you know what I mean?" Jesus Christ, Jamie can ramble. I just nodded, pretending to pay attention.
After a few minutes of silence, most of which distracted by my mind hurting itself in attempt to stay optimistic, a nurse walked by, carrying an IV bag full of crystal blue liquid.
Jamie snickered, the way he usually does when he's booting up his comedy engine, getting ready to tell a joke. "Now see, THAT looks tasty. Maybe I should get shot or something, at least I'd finally get some good food." He snickered on his punchline, nudging my arm while pointing at the nurse. All I could do was let out a somber growl, half full of obligation of a response, half bitter displeasure at him making a joke like that when Judy had just been shot. I think he got the message, as he dropped his smirk and opted instead for a calm, controlled stare. "Christ, Nicholas... when's the last time you smiled?" To his credit, he sounded genuinely worried.
I looked back up at him, wanting to just be alone, nobody around for miles. Nobody to risk their life for you, nobody to die in your name... absolutely alone. Or at the very least, away from his insensitive ass. "The last time I smiled?" It was right before I tried to shoot myself, James." I growled, shoving my head back into my paws, trying to keep my breathing calm. Jamie must have been pretty awkward then, as he was never a people person, and given a situation like this, he wouldn't know how to react. He would prob-
I felt his arms wrap around my shoulder, pulling me into a hug. The first time I had ever really hugged him, the first time contact meant anything more than a formal greeting with him. I couldn't explain why, but that aforementioned bond that didn't exist felt a hell of a lot more probable. I grabbed his back, resting my head on his suit's collar. "I'm sorry... I just..." I started to explain myself, but he cut me off by hugging me harder.
"Nick... I'm not very good with this whole 'affection' kinda stuff, but I... well, I hate that you have to be the victim in all of this." If his embrace had tethered a rope between him and I, that last sentence had cut it, before burning its corpse. However, I didn't pull away. "I know that Allister loved you, but he's deranged, and you weren't meant to be an outlet for his insanity."
I let my hug catch slack. "Victim?"
He looked down at me, confused. "Yeah, you..." His eyes shone with the sudden knowledge of what he had just said. "I... shit, I'm sorry, Nicholas," Nicholas. Yeah, our bond was dead. "You... you and the rabbit... are victims..." He said nervously, dancing around my discomfort.
I wiped away a tear, my first of the day. My last of the day, a discomforting voice told me. "No, I'm not a victim. I'm just some fox who said somethings I shouldn't have, and now because of it, I've cost two people their lives, immobilized and cost the dream job of the first rabbit police officer, probably destroying the rest of her life, and allowed a mob boss to win, simply by the fact that he... broke me..." I finished. I don't even know if I meant all that. I knew I was broken, but maybe, maybe I... I just...
Christ, I don't know.
The more I try to assign blame, or sort out all of this fallout product of a simple lie... a measly little lie, the more I wish I had just killed myself when I still had the chance.
Jamie looked down at his feet, locking his body into slack, hunched over like a student above a textbook, no form or care, just anxiety. "Broken? Is that the right word?" He pressed. Son of a bitch, I wished he'd just leave.
I still answered, out of pure politeness. "I'm trying to blame myself when I can't, and trying to stop when I can. I can't feel my emotions anymore, I just... I want out."
The background noise of the hospital collected absence as he spoke softly. "Out of what?"
"...Life. I told you I tried to commit suicide, right?"
"Yeah."
"I've put too much sin into this world than I've taken out. That's what makes you a good person, right? If you've done more to the evil than for it?"
"I just exist, Nicholas. I'm not much of a deep thinker."
"Neither am I. And that's why I want out. I'm tired of knowing that there's more to me than just sarcasm and quick wit. It hurts me, to know that I have an effect on people."
"You don't want to have an effect on people?"
"I just want to be another person you pass by in the supermarket every day, never recognized, never spoken to, just another nameless face, savor for the two or three people I actually do want to be a 'somebody' to."
He stood up, brushed himself off, buttoned his suit, picked up his briefcase and held his chin up. "That is insane, Nicholas. You're not broken, you're just growing up. Albeit a bit more... grimly than the rest of us, but maturing still." I turned to look at him. "You love Judy, Right?"
"How do you..."
"She's alive, when she wakes up, just tell her want you need to, and given a year, everything will be back to normal. Trust me. You may not want too many people to care for you, but there are a lot of people who do. I included. If you blame yourself for these people's deaths, or if you want to, or what-the-hell-ever, don't. They'd die for you, and a few did. It may be horrible, it may be tragic, it may make you want to kill yourself, but you need to know that they loved you. I don't know who they are, sure. But I know they love you, Nick. And so do I." With that, he abruptly left.
I sat for a while, resting my arms crossed on my lap. "What a shit head." I muttered coldly, glad he was gone. He didn't know the people who died, one of them not even dying for me. He just... tried to... he just pulled that out of his ass. He just... Jesus Christ...
I dug my fingers into the back of my neck, letting my elbows hang to my chest. He was just glad that he wasn't involved in this, and only here to drop off a will. I looked back at where Jamie was sitting and spied a thin tan folder, marked with streaks of black ink spelling; Allister's photos. Jamie must have left them for me. I didn't hesitate to open the folder, picking up a stack of Polaroid camera photos.
The first few pictures were just Allister and a few friends, sometimes around a TV, sometimes a poker table, and one at a strip club. The picture after that strip club one was his group of friends inside a car; Thorn presenting the left side of his face to show a large, fresh gash in it. He was smiling, of course, but this time it wasn't due to my misfortune, instead, he was holding a tiny pink bra in his paws. I put it together that he assaulted a stripper, took a few photos, and got his ass kicked by the bouncer. Any evidence to support my theory other than the one with him and friends were nonexistent... or maybe Jamie stole them.
The next photo was one I recognized, it being taken by me and all. I must have been seven, due to the angle. The picture showed my brother, ten at the time, sitting at a table eating breakfast. All I remember happening after that was my father yelling at me for touching his camera. He told me I shouldn't be so "Careless with fragile things." Ironic he should scold me like that, now that I see it.
The next picture was... It was me; in my Junior Ranger uniform... mom must have taken it...
Cycling past a few pictures completely out of chronological order, most consisting of landscapes from trips and vacations, and house remodels, I found a picture of Allister and an Artic Shrew in a tuxedo. Mr. Big, undoubtedly. For the first time in these pictures, Thorn looked professional. He was dressed in a white suit, clean of any stain or blemish. A plain blue tie clutching his neck, complementing his crimson red fur. His face held a somber smile, and was completely devoid of hate, rage and scar. He looked young, and happy. He was then a calm and relaxed wannabe thug doomed to die, and be born again as the Allister Thorn I knew; now he's the exact opposite. Until his destiny would catch up with him, he held his hands against the shoulders of his wife, as young and happy as he, unknown to her the lust lurking in her husband's mind.
The others in the picture were either polar bear bodyguards, or foxes and wolves the size of my parents. Probably business associates, come to Mr. Big's formal celebration.
The next photos were more of my father and Mr. Big, one consisting of the two and the latter's Grandmother. Dear God, that brought me back. I thought about the time Thorn brought Chuck and I to meet the mob boss... that day was the only warm day, back when the Trio was still alive. Not that I miss it, but looking back, if I had seen every day like I saw that one, I might still be running at Allister's heels, pulling cons and smoking catnip.
The final photo took me aback, as it was the only photo of the family, all of us together, that is. My father wore dark brown colors, a swollen suit, and had his hair greased back. If he looked at ease in the photo at Mr. Big's party, then he looked like he was embodied in hell here. His mouth was locked shut, trapping any protest to the family memoir, and leaving it to boil in his throat. My brother stood under my father's placement, smiling big and bright in his first red suit and blue tie.
My mother... was beautiful. She had a wonderful purple dress draping her entire body, as elegant and majestic as the northern lights. Her eyes shone cobalt so intense they seemed to heat the photo in my grasp. She had her gloved paws over my shoulders, much like Thorn had his over hers at the party, only, something in my eyes, and something about my face, made me want to cry. It was the last time I was happy, and I had subconsciously forced myself to forget about it.
I tore my eyes away from the picture, not even studying my apparel to jog my nostalgia. I looked back only long enough to see where I was making a crease; down the center, dividing her and I from Allister and Jamie. I tore the photo in half, immediately shoving the preferred side into my pocket. I sat the other side back onto the pile and put them back into the folder.
I didn't want to look at it anymore, but I still wanted it. And I had it. At least that's something...
My phone buzzed as I set the folder back where Jamie was sitting. Finnick was calling. I didn't want to answer it, as that would just lead me to an even nastier feeling. All I wanted now was Judy. It would be a while until I got that, but in the meantime... I wanted no news about Halatheon. Not even an alert to tell me he's dead.
Not even that... not until I talk to Judy.
The call expired, and he sent me a text soon afterwards. All it read was "Call me"
I didn't want to do that, though. Even if we wouldn't talk about Halatheon... even if he was just wanting to check up on me... Like a good friend. All I wanted was Judy...
...And until I get her...
I stood up, not really knowing what force was controlling my body to move to the door, but also not caring, as I agreed with it completely. Maybe the force was simple desire, and I was just telling myself otherwise. It didn't matter, though. All that did matter was that I was going to talk to him. Father to son.
"Can I help you?" Asked the gruffly white timber wolf guarding Thorn's room. I froze at the sight of him, knowing he was my only obstacle. He wasn't a part of the ZPD, as his clothes and ear piece led me to believe he was in the FBI. It made sense they'd be on this case as well.
I pulled my badge out of my back pocket, showing it to him briskly, as I didn't want to take too long and change my mind. "Officer Nicholas Wilde, ZPD. The man in there is my father. I just need to see him." The wolf looked at me sadly.
He sighed, then stepped aside the door. "I'm not allowed to let anyone in, but if you're an officer..." I walked past him as he held the door open. "Don't take too long, please."
I nodded without looking at him. "Idiot." I thought to myself. Allowing me in like that. The badge could have been fake, or I-
My mind cut itself off upon the sight of him.
He was stung to a billion machines, all running tubes and needles into his chest, arms and neck, pushing liquids of grim colors into him. His breathing was in sync to his heartbeat, as whenever his chest would rise, a monitor next to his bed would beep. Every time it fell, another beep. Slow and painful to intake, slow and painful to watch. His muzzle was covered by a huge plastic dome, strapped all the way around his head, and jutting a yellow tube running back to a ventilator. His fur was ruffled and matted, more than mine, looking like he had been attacked in the sewer, rather than a building. To top it all off, he was wearing a neck brace, preventing him from rolling over, and from his neck to twist.
He looked pathetic. A criminal kingpin reduced to a bedsore, depending on the good faith of others just to breathe. To be completely honest, it scared me. It scared me how something as simple as a bullet or two could knock a monstrosity such as he, down. It was horrifying... it was horrifying how I was once scared of this titan, who was now nothing more than a vegetable.
He must have heard my footsteps, as he slowly slid his eyes open, striking his dilated pupils on my being, and slowly collecting color. He smiled wide behind his mask. "Nicky..." He wheezed hoarsely, almost choking on the action.
I pulled a chair from the wall to the bed and sat down. The room was barren, no TV, no flowers or pictures on the wall, the perfect room to express everyone's disgust towards the resident. "Allister." That was the first time in my life I had ever called him by his name, to his face. I had been too scared previously.
He laughed, knowing that fact for himself. "I guess... that means... you hate me? What did... I ever do to you?" He forced himself to laugh out those stuttered words, followed by a fit of coughing and a choke.
"Still a sarcastic prick, ah?" I spat coldly.
He stopped coughing and let his smile slack. "Yeah, somethings never change." He retorted, staring me in the eye. I didn't stare back, still fearful of what I might see in his portals to hell. We sat in silence, spare for the beeping of the machines and heaving of his breaths, until he finally spoke again. "So how is she?"
"Alive." I snorted, expecting his certain response.
"Damn..." That was it. He didn't smile when he spoke this time, as if he was actually disappointed, not just saying it to hurt me. "You know, this is her fault, the Trio and I just wanted to leave you two alone."
The Trio. I never wanted to hear those words, especially out of his mouth, again. "Yeah, something inside of me doubts that." I looked out the iron bared window, the only object that could pass for decoration in the room, and saw the ocean. That was his escape out of the country, maybe eleven months ago. It's what would have been my escape if I had been deranged enough to shoot her... If I had been deranged enough to help Allister. "I think it's called common sense." I looked back down at his unamused face, holding his gaze on the wall in front of him.
He shook his head as much as he could under the restraint of his brace. "No, is called hope. Something you need to learn to let go of." His breathing, although distorted, never shook his words. "Hope for everything, actually. Hope that Judy Hopps won't get a life sentence, or hope that I'll die in this bed and not in prison... Hope that you can ever forgive yourself."
I focused my sights on his paws, limp and drawing circles in the sheets, every once and a while catching at them softly, like he was longing for a feeling there. "Forgive myself? For what Judy did?" I ask.
He turns at looks at me. "Don't bullshit me, Nicholas. I know it's tearing you up inside. I know you... I know you..." He rarely calls me Nicholas over Nicky. All it meant was that he was annoyed, instead of angry. Even if he was angry, his paws were still rubbing the sheets, and I doubt he could hurt me.
"I don't have hope I'll 'forgive' myself, just satisfaction that one day I will." I muttered, looking back out the window. I could faintly see the ZPD precinct... I wonder if they finished cleaning up the blood yet...
"Satisfaction for what may never come is called hope, Nicky."
"Kind of like the hope that you won't die here?"
He laughed feebly. "Does that imply a threat?"
I didn't answer, opting instead to change the subject. "Why her foot? Why didn't you just kill her?" I looked back at him, his paws still turning the sheets.
He shook his head again. "I didn't tell Halatheon to lop her foot off, Nicky. I was barely conscious." He tried to shift his back, but it only made him groan. "Trust me, if I had been pulling the strings, all of her limbs and appendages would be detached." He kept staring at me, trying to catch my sights. "You know that, dont'cha Nicky?"
I nodded. "Yeah..."
"All I could do during that was watch. I couldn't talk or move, just watch. Damn me if wasn't entertaining, though." He sighed. "Why don't you cops go talk to him if you really want to know?"
I shook my head, happy with my leisure to do so. "We... well..."
"Is he still free?" He asked, genuinely curious.
Finally, I looked him dead on. His eyes were still dilated and bloodshot, begging to be shut, yet still the most horrifying sight I'd ever seen. I wanted nothing more than to look away from his medusa glare, turning my emotions into stone to crumble before me, yet if I looked away, he'd know I was lying. "No. Finnick shot him. He's dead." I didn't stutter, or pause, or break my glare. In retrospect, Allister should have known I was lying, due to my unusual lack of fear.
However, he was the one to look away. Out of sadness, spite, or anger, I'm not sure. At the very least, he knew he was defeated. That's all that mattered. "Finnick, ah?" He coughed, disrupting his steady breathing with pain. "Little bastard..." He muttered when he caught himself.
"How'd you two meet anyway? Finnick, I mean." I relaxed into my chair, not due to comfort, but because I knew I'd be here for a while.
He sighed again, paw still rubbing the sheets. "Jesus... what is this? Storytime?"
"As opposed to me beating the story out of you? It'd better be."
He laughed. "Now THAT is a threat." He took a big breath, slowing his paw down. "If you want a real story, then ask me about the stag. All Finnick did was ask me for pot. Then he sent you, right?"
I nodded. "Fine. What about Halatheon?"
"Sit comfortably, Nicky, it's a little long."
It was only a little bit after I had to flee south, maybe a year ago?
Eleven months.
Right, right. I traveled with a business associate of Big's I befriended. He pulled a few strings, and eventually hooked me up in a quiet little beach resort called "Luna Purpura"... I think... anyway, He helped me covertly exchange a few thousand dollars for whatever the hell they call their coins down there. After he flew back to Zootopia, I had a hotel suite to myself. Top floor, with a view of the ocean. Kinda like this room... just without the bars. Beautiful place... Ya know, It's where I woulda sent you, had you-
Halatheon.
Yeah, yeah, I'm getting there. Eventually, I felt an itch, one that a cigarette on the beach after sex couldn't scratch. I wanted to be the ruler of that little resort, not like president, of course, but I wanted to be 'The doctor you go to if you want that special kick,' Ya know? There were already a few dealers and the sort. Not too hard to find, to be honest. I found a few without even looking for them, so I knew that they'd be easy to overthrow. I knew that the best way to break into and overthrow an expanding empire, was to be inside once that expansion starts, right? So I went to this gal selling on the side of a back alley road. I told her that I wanted 'something more' than just catnip, and after a couple days, she led me to the back of a surf shop and introduced me to her Pimp. His name was Lotus. Kind of a girly name for a drug lord, right?
Well, girly name or no, Lotus was a good guy. Shame I eventually backstabbed him... Literally. I talked to him; and he opened up about his kids, after I did about you and Jamie. He gave me his trust, but I never gave him mine. Soon, after a visit or two, he asked me if I wanted to start helping out the business. I was overjoyed, naturally. Not because I was finally one of the cool kids, but because Lotus was playing right into my palms. His rule was 'no robbery.' We gave our customers exactly what they wanted. No cuts, no threats. Like a restaurant, in a sense. Well, fuck that rule. I would mug just about everyone I got the chance to do so to. After a month or two, I was the number one salesman. I would hide all of the products in my hotel suite, and hand in all the money I got out of robbery.
Lotus grew close to me, unaware of my scheme. He trusted me, like I said, so he would never expect that I was actually manipulating his other salesman into my rules. They would continue selling, but would never turn profits into him. Only me, to then turn into him. I'm not entirely sure if it was my code of ethic, or my levels of productivity, but profits doubled. Lotus never knew. Then one day, shink!
You killed him?
Ended one man's job to ignite another's dream, Nicky. Death is only a doorway to new ability.
...
You disagree?
I think death is exactly what it means. The cease of a life.
Well then, let me rephrase myself. One man's death is another man's birth into emporia.
Somehow, that's even worse.
I never considered myself a good person, Nicky. Anyway, when Lotus was a corpse sinking in the water, all his 'employs' were ecstatic that I was the new leader. I had a real good gig down there. Soon, we got in trouble with the law; we had sold to the wrong guy, right? And the first law man to bust in the door of HQ was Halatheon. He was a security guard, then. Apparently, he knew about us ever since he found my stash, back in my room. It was embarrassing, I'll tell you that. Halatheon found it a few weeks before he busted us, interestingly enough, and he never told anyone.
See, Halatheon is kinda like me, just without all the hate. He wanted us to make a firm business. But once the law tried to crawl in our asses, he told us to relocate. He was a good man... better than Lotus, anyway. Halatheon and I had a... well, yeah. We had a friendship. Purely based on 'I scratch his ass, he doesn't turn mine in.' and strangely enough, I didn't mind that. Not the scratching asses' part, but the fact that I had an insider. Someone who was working for the law, but who wouldn't think twice about shooting a fellow officer. Like that rhino.
McHorn.
Hmm?
His name was McHorn, Mitchel McHorn.
Whatever, Halatheon was my guy, and since I was helping him out with stuff, like women or weed, I was his. Eventually, He wanted to quit his job, to come and work permanently with me. I didn't want that, I finally had an edge over the 'true 'n blue'. After a lot of arguing, and I'll admit, I wanted to stab him a few times, we worked out a plan.
See, I was planning on making my return to Zootopia and reuniting the Trio, but the heat might still be after me. So I figured if Halatheon could be my insider at the ZPD, then he would be able to turn the police's heads while we rose back to power. He and I could be partners – of sort – back home. He loved the idea, so we went for it. He joined how long after you did?
I joined seven months after you left, and he came about... maybe two, after that?
Okay, that makes sense; I was up there a month later. That's how I got to your place so quick, Nicky. After Chuck called.
Wait, you've been here two months? You never did anything?
Oh I did plenty, Nicky. Just nothing too... big. See, I heard about you being a cop. I figured that it was kinda like what Halatheon did, at the time. And with Chuck drinking himself mad, I knew the Trio was dead, and I had to start again.
Chuck eventually figured it out too, and only started drinking more... God I hate drunks.
Yeah. I remember what you did to that prostitute.
I still prefer 'filthy whore.' Anyway... He was my insider from then on, until Chuck found out about you and the ZPD. He got worried about you squealing about the Trio. I just had to make sure you wouldn't.
I was worried chuck would.
If the alcohol didn't kill his brain yet... at least your rabbit did, ah?
She was aiming for you.
She missed.
Try saying that without the ventilator.
Heh heh... Yeah, I'm kinda fucked, eh?
He sighed, finished with his story, paw starting to dig into the sheets, poking holes and grasping for the past. "But all in all, Halatheon was just another partner." He stiffly nodded.
I stood up from my seat and walked to the window, grabbing the bars and staring out at the ocean. "What ever happened to your little empire?"
"Who cares?" He grumbled. "It was just another chapter of my life, all of the 'employees' either moved on or took leadership for themselves. It's all behind me now."
I rested my chin on a bar. "Yet our past wasn't? You were still ready to kill me at a moment's twitch."
"Yeah, well, if I was to start over, I couldn't have you or Chuck fucking things up for Halatheon and me."
We stayed still for a while. Not out of comfort, but out of what to move on to next. He was waiting for my next question, and I was him. Finally, I found one. "Why are... why do you do the things you do?"
He laughed. "What ever do you mean, son? You and I were one in the same."
I turned to face him, leaning against the window, crossing my arms in attempt for comfort. "No. I never hurt people, I just conned them."
He looked back at me, eyes studding my stature instead of my soul. "You were getting there. When I was a kid, I would pretend to bump into people in a crowd, but I would actually be stealing their wallets. Eventually, I was a goon to Mr. Big, and soon after, I met Lorene. She forced me to bottle everything up and be a father. But you know how that ended." He looked me in the eyes when he said that last part, scanning me for fear or sorrow at the thought of my mother. I looked at the floor.
"Well, why didn't you want to be a father, why did you go back to being... you know..."
"Evil?"
I nodded.
"Why do giraffes have long necks? Wouldn't it be more practical for evolution to shorten them? It sure would help them fit in with society. Wouldn't it help if nature bent my neck to fit it?" He spoke in a voice devoid of wheezing or stuttering, as if he didn't need his ventilator at all.
"You're blaming it on nature?" I ask, not looking up from the floor.
"I have a red mindset, Nicky. I can't help if society's is blue." He looked away, allowing my head to rise again.
I moved back to my chair and sat back down, resting my head in my paw. "You are what you are..."
"...And what I am, is unaccepted by the likes of you." He snorted through a smirk. His fingers were curling their own sections of the sheets now.
I took a deep breath, needing to force the question out before I gave up on asking it. "Why... Why did you kill... her?" I tensed up, covering my belly and neck, like he was about to attack me. Funny how he still had that apparatus though his pathetic and broken appearance.
"You mean Lorene?"
I briskly nodded.
He sat there for a while, in thought. His paw moving in and out of a hole he carved in the sheet. Finally, he opened his mouth in a sigh. "You know, I'm really not sure."
That was my limit. I jolted up, throwing the chair behind me, not caring about the loud clatter. "YOU FUCKER!" I screamed, forcing my arms to clench against my body so I wouldn't strangle him. All he shot at my rage was a smirk. Wild amusement at my urge to break his spine. "You electrocuted her... That isn't just some 'oh shit, oops' moment!" I yelled.
He rolled his eyes to stare at me. "Then you tell me why I killed her." He snarled.
With one paw, I grabbed the opposite side of my body, and with the other, I dug my fingers into the back of my neck, trying to calm myself down. The Timber Wolf outside must have never heard my outburst, as the door never opened. "If I had the slightest clue... I wouldn't be here." I growled, wanting to run away from this monster. This monster and his power to manipulate and spawn hate inside of you, even though his status of dying on a hospital bed.
He dropped his smirk, paws slowing down, but never stopping their motion. "I... I really don't... I don't understand either, Nicky." He sighed; looking genuinely sad, while never retiring his menacing aura. "I... I loved her... more than anything..."
I dropped my arms, almost losing my sanity and feeling sorry for the demon. I pulled the chair back to me and sat down. "You did?" I asked, remembering all the times he visibly held back his screams at her, late at night when they thought Jamie and I were asleep.
"Yeah, more than I did running around in the Trio, or Luna Purpura, or anything." He tried to lift his arm to his face, but he recoiled in pain and grunted loudly. He was even starting to tear up. "She convinced me to try to change my life. I loved her for that. Someone who actually cared for me."
I could hardly believe he wasn't faking his hurt, but was honestly crying. In all my life, I had known this man as my father whom hated me and soon killed my mom, but never once did I see so much raw, saddening emotion in him. His eyes had never been a look into his desire, or his lust for love, always a reminder of what kind of monster he is. It was like witnessing the sun implode; impossible, incredible, and ludicrous to imagine... until it happens, then it's just bewildering.
"...And I killed her, Nicky..." He sniffed, his tears falling onto his pillow. "And I can't figure out why..."
I felt the same way as he did, I loved mom more than anything, and then Allister came and killed her, for no visible reason. I had no empathy for Thorn, but I finally felt for him, I understood a piece of his mind, albeit something cold and repressed. 'Kill him.' I heard something whisper. 'You'd be taking more evil out than you put in, and that's what you want, right? Kill him.' It said. Maybe it was just my common sense again, but it was persuasive as all hell.
Allister finished crying, not attempting to wipe the water streaks across his face away, opting for his paw to instead continue drawing circles in the sheets. "Hell," He chuckled, trying to snap out of his tragic memory. "Maybe I'm just bipolar." He giggled hoarsely.
"You're fucking sick, is what I would call it."
"No objections here, Nicky. I've sunk too far to resurface."
"Is that the metaphor you told me about?"
"Yeah, it is. I'm sunk, but I'm pretty good at holding my breath. You aren't."
"I'm not the one pissing through a tube."
"You're drowning, Nicky."
Kill him, Nick.
His paw was still moving. "Drowning."
I stood up, and moved to a machine. If I turned them all off, I could kill him. Take more evil out than I put in, and all. The first to go would be the IV bags. "Well, it doesn't matter where I am anymore. Because it's your time to drown, not mine. I need to be happy again."
He laughed. "You're going to kill me, ah?"
Not that it'll help much, but I nodded. "You already won, so what's the point in making sure you can't anymore?"
"You're right, Nicky." He coughed, wincing at the pain. "I did win. You know why?" He asked while I unplugged another machine. "Because yeah, one day, you will be happy again. So will your rabbit, but every time you are, every time you smile, or feel warm towards a joke, or wake up next to her, you'll remember me. You will always have my face in the back of your head, burning your happiness into a pulp faster and faster every time you smile." He posted a wicked grin across his lips. "Because you'll know that you've hurt too many people just for your own glee. That Judy hurt, even killed in cold blood, something cops are supposed to be to morally high to do, just for you. Your safety, your happiness, everything, just for you." I unplugged a third machine, causing an electric panel of digits to drop to a solemn zero "And one day, it'll tear you apart, the weight of someone else's love, the memory of your sins. The memory of me. You may be good at denial, but that's a raindrop compared to the maelstrom I unleashed on your life." He finished with a snarl. I pulled a needle out of his wrist and turned off his heartbeat monitor. I would only have a few seconds to do this.
"I know it will dad, but in the meantime, I'm killing what I never should have created." I spoke softly as I grabbed the thick tube running air to his mouth and squeezed hard. "If I can't take evil out of this world by suicide, then your corpse will be a damn fine second."
All he could do was spit out a laugh, devoid of all his spite, his intimidation, his cunning slur. He sounded defeated, something he had never been before. Looking like all of his victims, lying in hospital beds relying on thousands of dollars to stay alive, Allister Thorn Wilde could only force a final laugh. It made me feel powerful, like I had just slain a god.
"Fuck you, Nicholas. I'll see you soon... in hell..." He whispered coldly, struggling for air. That strange force, the same one that told me to kill him, made me look into his eyes. Not at, never at, always into. His soul was decaying, but he still presented a shield of something darker. He was not scared, nothing could scare him. Not even death, but the pull of mortality down to a burning inferno gave the kick stronger than any earthly force, enough to crack that shield. Something impregnable, something indestructible, something absolutely invincible crumbling before your eyes, all because of your command... it was amazing.
"Give Halatheon my regards, faggot." That was all I retorted. It was all I needed to. His bright eyes hit a wall, falling cloudy on a nanosecond, and then rolling back into his head, closed forever by his eyelids, never again to see the horror their owner inflicted on the world again. Thorn was dead, and I killed him. His arm fell limp, his paw to never move again. To no longer grasp for what he carelessly wasted.
Love and happiness, a family... Lorene Wilde.
I couldn't feel myself anymore, and I could barely see straight. I hurriedly put the machines back in sync, and was just finished pushing the needle back into Allister's dead arm when the doctors and nurses rushed into the room. They pushed me out the door as they warmed up the defibrillators. Outside, the Timber wolf was gone. Not that I was too occupied with looking for him, I was in a B-line for the bathroom. Once inside, I made sure everybody was gone, and then threw up in a toilet.
Jesus, I could barely taste anything, I could barely see anything, either. All I felt was cold. Cold everywhere. I killed him... I killed Dad...
No. The monster inside of dad killed him. I just killed the monster. And all I could feel... was cold. Is this how Judy felt? Did she enjoy killing Charlie? She killed him for my protection... I killed to stop a monstrosity. If she felt cold in killing for a gross cause... then why did I feel cold for a noble one?
I never hurt anybody before... at least not physically... I felt cold... I felt powerful...
I threw up again. Was this Allister's experience? He said he started off small... was he like this before he was comfortable with murder? Is this his transformation?
"I won't let it be mine..." I said aloud, heaving at the taste finally collecting in my mouth. I stood up, brushed myself off, and walked out of the stall. Still alone.
Turning on the sink, I washed my face with warm water in hope of restoring my senses. Nothing. I looked up and into the mirror, and...
I looked funny. I looked controlled, confidant... like... like I had won. The fox looking back at me was smiling, and I couldn't feel it... He was smiling because he killed Allister Thorn. He wasn't broken anymore, he killed his demon... and he learned how to swim.
Suddenly, all emotion and feeling rushed into me like blood through veins. I felt myself smiling, and I heard myself laughing. Laughing at how easy that all was. Allister Thorn, the monster who killed my mother, the man who stole my only chance to be happy, the bastard who destroyed my soul... died with a simple squeeze.
Even if I'm to never be free of his memory... I killed him. I took the evil out of the world, and now I knew I'd never put any more in.
Damn this feels warm.
The door to the bathroom swung open, standing there was the Timber Wolf. "Officer Nicholas Wilde?"
I smiled even wider. Even if they found out I killed him, I wouldn't care. I won. "Speaking." I looked at him, and he was smiling too.
"She's awake."
Judy
"You understand what I just told you?" The raccoon doctor dressed in a sweater vest asked me, to which I nodded.
I took a deep breath, recalling his speech. "Prosthetic foot, one and a half thousand." I didn't really care about my foot, as I was still in shock that I was alive. "But please, about Nick,"
The doctor raised a paw. "Officer Hopps, please, you should really wait for a few hours before-" The door swinging open cut him off. Standing in the archway, dressed in old dark colors hiding his dirty matted fur visible only above his neck, was Nick. When he saw me, He exploded in vibrant happiness.
"Judy!" He yelled, running to me.
I leaned up and stuck out my arms, letting him catch my body in a warm hug. "Nick! I love you... I love you!" I felt myself tearing up, feeling his fur against my neck after all of this was incredible. He twisted his head to kiss me franticly, whispering his love back to me.
The raccoon let out an exaggerated sigh, visibly upset. "I'll give you an hour." He started to walk out of the room, but caught himself and looked back at us. "Just don't... do, anything." He scolded. Nick might not have heard him, but I did. I casually lifted my middle finger to him, excusing him to leave.
After a few minutes of hugging and kissing, Nick let go of me and sat down on the bed. "I just... I really can't... wow." Was all he said though happy sobs. "I'm really, REALLY glad you're not dead." He laughed.
I nodded, still crying. "Yeah, me too." I know it was just a joke, but I really meant that. I would have instantly given my life for Nick, but I was glad I could see him smile one last time before I did.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "I don't know how to say this... but uh, well... Thank you. I know what this means, and I... Holy shit, Judy." He grinned, looking dreamily back at me, but all that did was make me nod solemnly. He looked shocked. "I didn't, shit... I mean..."
I hugged him again. "It's okay Nick, it was just a short coma... I'm alive." I whispered to him.
"No... Your foot..." He sighed, hugging me back. I nodded, and hugged him harder.
"It's just a foot, fox. Nothing compared to my life." I pulled away slightly, and kissed him. "I still get to see you." I said warmly once the kiss was done... god I missed the feeling of his lips on mine... It reminded me why I went gunning for the Trio in the first place.
Nick's smile drooped into a frown, and his tears picked up. "It's my fault... You would still be... I shouldn't have lied." He huffed, shifting himself into a slouch.
"No, Nick... it's not your fault... I was the one who... who shot Chuck... It's my fault this happened..." I hugged him again, trying to exude my warmth into him.
He shook his head, placing his paws over mine. "No... It if wasn't for me... I should have never..." He started to cry again, tears of pure sorrow over happiness or strength for my status.
"Nick, listen to me. It was-"
"I killed him." He said abruptly.
"What?" I pulled back, not out of fear, but confusion. Was he talking about Chuck? ... McHorn?
He looked at me and smiled his iconic smile, telling me that he was happy. "Allister Thorn Wilde... formally my father, currently a corpse in a hospital bed." He spoke softly and warmly, as if he hadn't been crying a few seconds ago. "I killed him."
It took me a while before I could speak, as I was shocked at his reveal. I didn't care how he did it, or how he found the strength, but I did know one thing; I was glad he did it, and not me. "Good." I said seriously, to match his mood. He nodded.
We sat quietly for a few minutes more, until he spoke. "Remember back at your apartment? When I told you about that 'submerged or sinking' metaphor?"
I nodded. "Allister said that you're sinking, right?"
"Yeah, and you asked me if I knew how to swim?" I nodded again. "I think I'm doing that now. Swimming, that is." He sighed and looked at me with a cocky grin about him. "Feels pretty good." We laughed and hugged again. I was happy Nick was feeling better about the whole thing, now that it was over. The only thing left... the aftermath. Well, better to bring it up sooner than later.
"Nick... You know I'm not getting let off the hook for this." I sighed to him, sitting up next to him, letting my legs dangle off the bed. Nick eyed the gauze wrapped around my stubbed leg quickly, then shot his gaze elsewhere.
"Yeah, I know." His sigh was only to remind me that he had also run through the possibilities. "You could plead self-defense. Say something like, 'you went after Halatheon, and they just happened to shoot first.'"
I nodded, but his mention of Halatheon really caught my attention. "Speaking of that... Is Halatheon still lose?"
Nick nodded, placing an arm around my shoulders, pulling me close to him. "Yeah, but everyone's out looking for him. Even Finnick, If you can believe it." He half chuckled, half groaned. "But if anyone can find the bastard... It'll be Finnick."
I nodded, still a bit untrusting of the fox. He helped me and all, but if he was hunting Halatheon, then it was for Nick. And if we're really trying to shake all of Nick's past off of him, then I don't want Finnick trying to manipulate Nick anymore. "With Chuck and Allister gone... you don't think Halatheon will try for his own Trio?"
Nick flared his nostrils, obviously upstirred at the thought. "No... It was Allister who was always trying to keep up an empire. With him dead... Halatheon should know to run. To run and never return." I nodded at his response, almost intoxicated off the feeling of his chest rising against my head. He felt so warm. Always so warm.
I took another deep breath, ready to ask the question I wanted to ever since we had sex three days ago. "Nick... If you're ready for it... Do you think you could explain to me... well, yeah. Everything?"
"Everything?" He chuckled.
"If you're ready."
He sighed. "Lye back down, this might take a while."
Well, from the beginning?
Preferably.
Hmm-hmm. Well, alright. When I was nine, I wanted to join the Junior Rangers, right?
Yeah, you told me the other scouts bullied you.
Right. Well, after I tried to run away from home, due to that little charade, Thorn found me, just by driving around a little. I saw him and hopped in the car, expecting to be taken home, but... He pulled over and asked me why I was running. I told him, and he got angry. Like, really angry. He started screaming about how 'I was a predator amongst prey, and should be able to stand up and fight for myself.' Finally, his yelling got to the point where it started to scare me. Then he just kept going on, and on, and on. I was crying, and huddled up in fear. Finally he screamed at me to get out of the car. I didn't, so he smashed the side of my head against the door. He pushed me out and drove away.
Well, I was hungry, and cold. So I decided that running away would be a horrible idea, so I went home, and that was an even horribler Idea. Is that a word? Horribler? Well, anyway... My brother Jamie had already run away about a month prior to that, so he was out. Mom... well, my Mom was drunk and cursing at the top of her lungs at him... Thorn, I mean. She's not a heavy drinker; I mean a glass of wine at dinner was rare for her. But she must have been depressed. Anyway, I saw Allister hit her, so I ran. I ran away from home.
I was on my own for way too long, and eventually, it was my nineteenth birthday. Funny how time flies, eh? Well, I met Finnick. He was... maybe twenty two then? His parents kicked him out, because he had fake credit cards in his van, so he was on the streets. I got wrapped up in trying to snatch his wallet, but he caught me. Now, I don't really remember how, I think he hit me and felt kinda bad about it, but he and I became friends. Like, actual friends, not just the partnership you saw us parade, I even slept in his van most of the time. Things were going swimmingly, until I met Thorn again.
Finnick and I smoked a lot of catnip back in the day; it was primarily what we spent our money and time on. Soon, we ran out, and when our dealer was caught, we had to switch. He said that this rising empire led by another fox was reliable, so I went for it. Allister Thorn was held up behind a strip club, in a VIP room of sorts. When he saw me, he was excited. It was the first time in a decade he saw his son. Well, I was scared, seeing as how he was the exact reason I ran away. He gave me the catnip, and acted all friendly, but when I came back for more, he told me that I'd have to 'do him a solid.' He sent me to negotiate with who he was buying the drugs off of. A cheetah named Chuck.
Well, one of Thorn's goons was this big Asian tiger, and he was some undercover agent or something, for another gang. He followed me to Chuck's place, and started shooting at us. I found out later that Chuck had this side business as a 'Rug Salesman' with all his rugs being crafted from only the 'finest wool'.
Skunk ass?
You remember Mr. Big's, then.
How could I forget? I'm Fru Fru's daughter's godmother!
Oh right.
Stupid fox.
Let me finish... Well, anyway, the gang of tigers were pissed at Chuck, so they tried to kill him. Chuck has never been the best in a fight, so I had to save him. I took him back to Allister to explain why we lost the catnip. Thorn was pissed, but Charlie was pretty grateful. Eventually, he talked Thorn into a gang, just the three of us. Allister, Chuck, and I. They came up with the genius name "The Trio." Must of taken them all night, I tell you.
But we were exactly as we sounded. Just the three of us. No bodyguards, no number twos, just us. It started off alright, with simple dealing and cons with Chuck... but soon it got bad... really bad. Allister always had this drive for destruction, this need to break more than he created. He wanted to be the supreme kingpin of the underworld, not just another two-bit mob boss. So he went to Mr. Big for a loan.
Somehow, and I'm not sure of what yet, I may never be, but Allister was a business associate of Big's, back before even the latter was married. They were almost friends. So Thorn took us to meet him, and I'll be honest. Of all my days before I met you, that was by far the best one. I was happy, I felt welcome. He was ecstatic to meet the son of Thorn. His Grandma even made us cannoli. I loved it.
However, it soon came time for the question. Allister asked for a loan, and Big said no. Thorn doesn't like it when people say no to him, so he exploded. He broke a lot of expensive stuff, and almost attacked a polar bear guard. Big was just about to kick us out, when Chuck made him an offer. One 'genuine' wool rug, for fifty k. Big saw it as fair, after I helped Chuck with the pitch. So with our money, albeit, not too much, we set off. Allister was glad he had the money, but was upset – yes, actually upset – that we helped him get it. He always had a god complex over us.
Time went by, and we had grown quite a bit. Allister handled all of the bigger stuff, like hits or rival gangs, while Chuck and I stuck to cons. What Finnick had taught me didn't translate too well to Chuck, who preferred sales. Drugs, guns, knives... all that sort. I remember I threw myself in front of a car once, just to have the guy pay for what he thought to be the medical fine... Well, I broke my leg, so it actually ended up being a medical fine. But my whole point is; I was starting to hate the Trio, and I wanted back in with Finnick.
Then one night... the Trio was out all at once, walking to an exchange, when we took this shortcut through an alley. In there was a prostitute... a drunken one... well, to get to the point, Thorn just about tore her head off... there was so much screaming... and blood...
I was scared. So I did the only reasonable thing in my mind. I knew Thorn would be ready to kill me at the bat of an eye, so I couldn't run away... so I went to the ZPD. I left an anonymous note on the windshield of one of the cars, and then tried to go into hiding. Thorn, however, wanted me to collect a dead drop package full of cash, with us never getting to the deal the other night. I found the dead drop, but instead of taking it... well, I gave it back to the guy. I tracked him down and gave him the money back.
When I got back to HQ and saw that the ZPD weren't there yet, I was worried. Well, to make matters worse, Thorn texted me to come home. Home, something he never called HQ. He meant my childhood house. So I did... and there, was where he killed...
Well... That's where he tied my mother down... and electrocuted her to death, screaming at me to tell him where the money was. I told him it wasn't there, but the guy I returned it to, named Michael, had already told Thorn he got the money back. So Allister was killing Mom just to torture me... he already knew where the money was... he just wanted to kill... to kill her...
Okay, Nick. That's enough... I th-
No. No, there's still a bit more. Allister found out that the police were after him, so he flew south for a little while... that's maybe eleven months before you and I met.
Finnick was pissed off when I came back to him, our friendship dead. He still wanted to be partners, however. And Chuck... Chuck took up drinking, and I didn't talk to him ever again... well, until you and I arrested him, that is. But that's it. That's everything.
I was still sitting uncomfortably when he finished, paws folded in my lap. "Nick... I'm so sorry..." I wrapped myself around him in a hug again, digging my face into his neck. His paw was drawing circles in the bed sheets below us.
He wiped a tear with his free paw, and then hugged me again. "It's all gone now... It's all gone..." We sat holding each other for what felt like half an hour, so warm and comfortable next to each other's bodies, we almost fell asleep. Finally he spoke again; "So what about us? After the dust settles, I mean."
I let go of him and rubbed my ears. "Well... I don't think I'm a cop anymore..." I chuckled, fortunately, he did too. "But... Is it too crazy to want to move in together? Pool our money and all, buy a small house..." I let my voice grow quiet when he wasn't responding.
To my utter joy, he turned at smiled at me. "Somewhere along the ocean?"
I nodded, tearing up again.
He nodded to, lying his back down on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "I like the ocean. Let's do that." He beamed at me, motioning for me to lie down with him, which I happily accepted.
God fucking dammit, I love him.
Author's Nonsense
AHHHHH that's it. (Actually, not really, there's an epilogue.) But seriously, Thank you guys for sticking with me through this, and sorry AGAIN for the hiatus. But the story's done! It's finished! (Read the epilogue) I feel like there could have been a few changes I should have made, but all in all, I like this story.
Did you? If not, then why did you read all of it? And if you did, what the hell is wrong with you? You could have been reading something by Stephen King, or Mario Puzo or something, why the hell did you waste your time here?
Well, regardless of your reasons, thanks for riding along!
Well, thanks again, I'm weighing pros and cons for a sequel, but you might be cringing at that idea.
THANK YOU AGAIN!
~Krypt (formally DrMcPacco*)
*I don't know why I changed my name either.
Penis.
