AN: I know some people have been asking for the second chapter to come as soon as possible, but I follow an order on the things I update. I have other projects I do as well, but to be honest Paw Patrol fanfiction just comes to me very quickly when I have the chance. This chapter will finally feature Damian Stone by the way, as always, I urge people to skip a scene if it is too much for them since anything with Stone usually has brutality on an M rating level.

Some people have asked me if I will be putting my stories on any other site besides . And I am planning to, on DeviantArt. I'll be opening an account soon with the name HavocHound and posting my Paw Patrol stories on there (not all of them, but the ones I think are the best). I'll also be seeking artists to do Paw Patrol art or comics with. I'm very picky with who I work with art wise since I go for good and interesting styles.

Another interesting thing I've noticed is some people have typed in a fanwiki about Marshall Gone Missing as a basis for a Paw Patrol Movie. While I am flattered by that, Marshall Gone Missing focuses too much on certain pups more than others. To have a complete movie you need to give equal focus on all the pups. Still, out of all my ideas it would be the closest to a movie plot.

Disclaimer: I do not own Paw Patrol


"The source of evil is desire, greed, and anger."- Aleksandra Layland


Once morning came, Zuma took his cloak and made his way towards the direction of the small town that lived near the forest. He didn't bother waiting to see if Oriel was going to come or not; the wolf appeared and disappeared as he wished. Not many people came to the woods these days, mostly thanks to the rumors that a wolf spirit was killing those in the name of justice. Of course, Zuma was no wolf, but he had no problems ending lives now. Criminals, like those rapists from last night, who did their ill deeds in these woods were perfect targets to train and kill. The first time had been hard, Zuma had felt disgust over his actions, but over time it got better and he just shut whatever regrets he had out.

There was no point mourning over them, they were nothing more than scum who deserved to burn in hell for their sins. Of course, the one person he wanted to kill more than anything was still a distance away. Zuma didn't know how he was going to find a way to enter Costal City, but he would walk on his own like he did from Adventure Bay if he had to.

He made it in record time towards the small town, where most folks were still sleeping in. Now that he was here, Zuma needed a way to get to Costal City. He had no money for a bus ride, and it would take at least a three days on paws alone. If I could get somebody to drive me… wish I had my hovercart.

He missed driving it. Feeling the wind and water in his face as he pushed on the gas and let the engine roar. He could still feel the currents of the waves underneath as he fought against them to go his way. He missed diving into the ocean, feeling his entire body sink into the deep blue he had loved since he was little.

Maybe I'll take a swim in the ocean when I arrive, thought Zuma with a small smile. Swimming in lakes and rivers was okay, but it was nothing compared to the sea.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a door to a nearby trade store opened. A man with a yellow beard and mustache exited the store while carrying a crate of supplies. He carried them to a nearby pickup truck and placed them inside. Curious, Zuma walked over and cleared his throat to catch his attention. "Hi, your twuck?"

"Yeah, what of it?" asked the driver.

"Where are you going?" asked Zuma.

"West Palm, 30 miles from here."

That's ten miles from Costal City, thought Zuma. "Mind if I wide with you? Wrying to get Costal City."

The human raised his eyebrow. "Not sure. Why should I?"

"I can help you deliver your stuff," offered Zuma.

"Pass. I got help when arrive there," replied the driver, crossing his arms.

"I can be a guard dog?"

"Got a shotgun."

Zuma sighed. "Never mind then."

The driver shrugged and went into his car as Zuma watched him and the truck drive away. Guess it's the high road for me.

With time wasting, Zuma took a deep breath and started going the same direction on his own four paws.


Meanwhile, a long distance away, Mayor Goodway was on her way to the bank with her purse chicken bucking along the way. "Now, now Chickaletta. Mommy needs to go to the bank first before we can buy you that new Chipolata Corn Meal you've been wanting to try out." Her pet's response was another buck.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being followed by two dogs, one a Norwegian Elkhound and the other a Vizsla. The Elkhound smirked upon seeing the Mayor and nodded to the Vizsla who charged out and barked a few times to get the Mayor's attention. Meanwhile, the Elkhound went the other way around the block. Alerted by the barking, Mayor Goodway turned around and saw the Vizsla arrive before whimpering and giving the puppy dog eyes. "E-e-e-excuse me, M-m-m-ma'am. My name is Victor and… I lost my family a long time ago… I've been on my own ever s-s-since they d-d-died… I'm so hungry and just n-n-need some food. If… if you can be so generous…"

"Oh, you poor, dear. Wait a second, I do have some dog bisects I keep for the Paw Patrol," replied Mayor Goodway. However, just as she was distracted, the Elkhound managed to come up from behind and snatch her purse. "Hey! Come back with my purse and-CHICKALETTA!"

"Buck! Buck!" cried Chickaletta as she was carried away by the two dogs who ran across the street.

Across from the road, an Ibizan Hound was in a driver's seat from a car they had hot wired. A pair of leggings were on his rear legs to help him reach the petals. Once the two dogs jumped into the car, they shut the door and told their partner to punch it. Stepping hard on the wheel, the dogs and Chickaletta were thrown back against the seats as the car widely screeched away.

"Come back here you chicken nappers!" shouted Mayor Goodway as she tried to chase after the car but it was already long gone. "Oh, no. Oh, no. My pour little chicken has been chicknapped! I better call the Paw Patrol!" She then remembered her phone was in her purse and began to panic even more. However, that soon changed when she saw a jogger checking his phone and rushed over, grabbing it. "Sorry! Emergency! As Mayor, I need this phone for a hostage situation!"


"And done!" shouted Rocky, putting away his blow torch. "H.A.V.O.C. is complete!"

"Nice work, Rocky," said Ryder, petting his pup. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Thanks, Ryder… I'm glad I stayed. I did miss you all," whispered Rocky, lowering his head.

"Well, with the H.A.V.O.C. equipment set up we can go ahead and start looking for Zuma," said Ryder before his pup pad rang. Taking it, he answered it. "Ryder here."

"Ryder! It's Mayor Goodway! I need the Paw Patrol, now! That is if you not on your hiatus…"

Ryder paused as he looked at Rocky. It had been so long since they done a mission of any kind. He knew that the pups missed being a rescue team. And so did he. It still felt incomplete without Zuma around, but one nod from Rocky was all Ryder need.

"You know what, Mayor. I think we're okay to start working again," said Ryder who gave his best smile. Truth was, he felt like he and the team needed to do rescues again. Even if Zuma wasn't with them, they had to become what they once were. "What's the emergency?"

"Some criminal dogs stole my purse! It's got my wallet, my phone, and even Chickaletta! You have to save her, Ryder! Please!"

"We're on our way! No job is too big, no pup is too small!" said Ryder, feeling good about saying those words again.


"Hiya!" shouted Skye as she judo flipped Chase off his paws. "How was that?"

"Good, Skye!" said Chase as he got up and nodded. "You're really getting better at those lessons."

"I had a great teacher," said Skye, winking at Chase who couldn't help but blush.

"My turn!" said Marshall as he stepped forward and bowed to Skye as they circled each other.

Chase sat next to Rubble who was watching the spare. "I still think biting them in the balls is better," he commented.

Laughing, Chase responded, "If you want to go that way, Rubble, I won't stop you." He continued his focus on Skye and Marshall, smiling at the fact that both of his friends had improved greatly.

"You still like her, don't you?" asked Rubble, making Chase blush. "Why?"

"… it's not easy to stop carrying about a person you love, Rubble," muttered Chase with a sigh. "I'll always care about her, but I've accepted she's not ready. Maybe one day she'll change her mind or maybe one day I'll find someone else to love. But no matter what I'll always have some place in my heart for her."

Suddenly, the collars beeped as Ryder's voice rang in the air. "Paw Patrol, to the Lookout!"

"Ryder needs us!" shouted the pups automatically.

"Gotcha!" shouted Skye as she took advantage of Marshall's distraction to grab him by the collar with her mouth, spin around, and throw him across the sky.

"Woahhhhh!" shouted Marshall as he sailed towards the Lookout with the doors opening for him. He then crashed into the elevator, face first, and slowly slid down until he was on the floor where the others arrived soon after.

"Just like old times, huh Marshall?" asked Chase.

"Yeah, but at least I got first... ow..." moaned Marshall as the elevator closed and went up.


After suiting up and heading towards the top, the pups all got out and stood in attention. It felt both good and awkward to be standing in such a position after such a long time. Especially, since there was one open spot between Rubble and Marshall. "Paw Patrol ready for action, Ryder sir!" shouted Chase before grinning. "And it feels good to say after so long, sir."

"And it's good to see us all back together as a team… sorta…" muttered Ryder, as he and the pups all looked at Zuma's spot and whimpered. "I'm sure he's fine pups. Besides, Zuma would want us to continue being a team and helping people."

"R-right, so what's the mission?" asked Rocky, trying to move things along. He did his best to push his feelings back as it was necessary to focus on the task at hand.

"We have both a robbery and a kidnapping," said Ryder as he pressed the button and brought down the big TV screen. It showed three dogs of different breeds, taking the Mayor's purse with Chickaletta inside before getting in a car and driving off. "Three dogs just stole Mayor Goodway's purse with all her belongings, including Chickaletta."

"Oh, poor Chickaletta," commented Skye.

"We're going to get her back and stop the thieves right in their tracks," said Ryder as he pressed a button and Skye's pup tag and helicopter appeared. "Skye, you'll follow the car with your helicopter. The Mayor's phone as a GPS tracking device so we can track the car with our equipment."

"Let's take to the skies!" shouted Skye before giving a flip.

Next was Chase's logo. "Chase, we'll use your net to trap the three dogs and then carry them to the police station so they can get booked."

"These paws uphold the laws!" shouted Chase, looking proud.

"Now we just need a plan to stop the car so we can catch them," said Ryder.

"I think I got an idea, Ryder!" said Rocky as a quick plan came to his mind. "But I'll need Marshall and Rubble to help out."

"Alright, Rocky. I'll trust your judgement. Everyone ready to get back in the field?"

"Paw Patrol is on a roll, Ryder!" shouted the team howling with excitement. For the first time in such a long time, they all felt like their old selves again.

"Then let's go!" shouted Ryder as he made his way to his poll and used it to slide down. The rest of the pups all went towards the slide and cheered (or panicked in Marshall's case when he slipped) as they made it to their vehicles.


Despite wearing the cloak, it was not that hot out for Zuma. He had gotten used to living in the hot forest while dealing with the chilly nights. He wouldn't deny missing a good bed and a pup house, but each trial made Zuma stronger. He had been continuing on the road until he saw something that made him run faster.

A beat-up truck, more importantly, the truck he saw the driver go on not too long ago. It had crashed into a tree and there was scattered debris everywhere with empty boxes scattered around. Worried for the human, he sniffed for any scent he had until he smelled him… and blood.

Hurrying over to the other side, Zuma found a small blood trail until he saw the human clutching his bleeding side. He winced before looking at Zuma and blinked a few times. "You're that pup from town."

Zuma didn't bother saying anything. He just rushed over and forced the human to move his hands so he could see the wound. To his relief, it wasn't life threatening but there was the case of infection and bleeding out if he wasn't stopped. "You have a fiwst aid kit?"

"Behind the driver's seat."

Nodding, Zuma went to the open door and looked around the back of the seat. Sure enough, he found the first aid kit and carried it to the human. Cleaning the wound, he rubbed some cream on it before bandaging it up. Relaxing a bit, he nodded to Zuma. "Thanks. Name's Nathan."

"I'm Zuma," replied Zuma as he took his hood off and nodded. "Who did this? Who attacked you?

"How do you know I was attacked?" asked Nathan as he slowly got up, hugging his truck for support.

"There are skid marks for two cars," pointed out Zuma towards the road. "All your supply boxes were bwoken into and nothing is scattered awound. Finally, I smelled the gunpowder from the bullet in your waist."

Nathan chuckled. "Not bad, you some detective?"

"No, but I had a friend who is one," replied Zuma, feeling a bit of pain in his chest as he thought about Chase. Soon the thoughts of the rest of his friends entered his mind, but he forced them down. "So, who attacked you?"

"Some goddamn punks who came out of nowhere," growled Nathan. "Knocked my car off its ass and shot me before I could get my gun. Took all my stuff and speed off in the direction of town."

"Want help getting revenge?" asked Zuma, glaring.

"Might be better to get the police involved," replied Nathan as he entered his truck and turned the keys. To his great relief, the motor was still working and the roar of the engine could be heard.

"If there is one thing I've learned it's that sometimes you need to go beyond the normal rules to strike down evil," replied Zuma, thinking about all the times Detective Shaw and the police tried to stop Damian, but failed. While he didn't blame Shaw, he knew that man was still forced to obey the rules. Zuma wasn't going to follow that. He wasn't going to follow any rule but one: show no mercy.

"Not sure if I agree with ya, but if you want to help get my stuff back I ain't gonna look down on some real help," Nathan said as he opened the side door. "Hop in. I'll get you that ride you wanted."

Nodding, Zuma entered the truck and closed the door. He sat calmly as possible while waiting for Nathan to drive on the road. While this was going to delay him heading to Costal City, Zuma wasn't going to let these punks get away with what they did. Think of it as a warm up exercise before the real deal. After these guys? Damian Stone.


Most men of genius loved perfecting their craft. Michelangelo with his art. Hemmingway with his writing. Einstein with his math. Perfection was something all great men and women strove for in their desires for their work to become famous around the world. However, infamy has a way of sticking out a bit more. Hitler with his Holocaust. Stalin with his massacres. Bundy with his murders. Stone admired those who stood out the most in history despite their actions. It wasn't that they were evil, they just dared to do something that hadn't been done before and it make them famous in his mind.

Evil and good would always be nothing more than replacement words for "agree" and "disagree". Stone himself never believed that there was any true morality the preachers and priests always went on about. Any real true loving God would have stopped all the "evil" a long time ago. And a cruel one would have just made the air out acid. As far as Stone was concerned, there was no God. No Good or Evil. No reward or punishment after death. All there was is life and enjoying it until you die. You just had to be smart, brutal, and not give two shits about anyone but yourself.

Even Stone knew he was going to die someday. But what he wanted to be remembered long after he was dead. If that meant breaking a few laws, killing a few people, so what?

"Take the bag off," said Stone as he took a smoke, but carefully made sure not to get any ash on his white Italian made suit. Just because he like to wear gangster clothes didn't mean he didn't like to wear something fancy once and awhile. Besides, makes me feel like Michael Corleone.

A man in his late forties gasped for air as the sack was taken of his head. He looked around what was his meat shop's freezer and tried to run upon seeing Damian. However, the ropes that tied him to the chair made sure he was going nowhere. "Oh God. Oh God, no."

Smirking, Damian moved towards the man and clasped him on the shoulder. Giving the man a wink, he said, "Robert. Robert. My favorite butcher. Well, second favorite really. Hank down the street gives a mean roast, you know?"

"S-S-Stone! I didn't do anything. I got your money! I got your money right in my safe!" shouted Robert, sweat pouring down his bald head.

"Oh, I'm not here about money," said Damian Stone as he started circling around the man. "I'm here because someone has been telling a certain detective whose been hunting for me some information about me. You wouldn't know anything about that…" He leaned down and whispered in the crying man's ears. "… would you, Robert?"

"I didn't talk! I didn't say anything to no cops! God, Damian I got a daughter and I would never endanger her! Not after my wife died!" shouted Robert, shaking his head as Damian leaned on his bald head as if he was a stump.

"Yeah, I figured that already Robert. You're a spineless sack of crap and you wouldn't even rat on ISIS if they were camping on your front lawn," chuckled Damian as he clapped his hands. "Now your daughter on the other hand… well she always did have that sense of 'righteousness' inside of her."

Robert's entire face went bleach white much to Damian's satisfaction. He never got tired of this. Scaring the living souls out of people. That was his art: giving fear to those around him. Fear was something he understood and delivered very well. If there was one thing people feared more than death or harm to themselves, it was death and harm to their loved ones. How many times had he heard the screaming, pleading, and begging for mercy to those of his victims who were willing to die if those they cared for lived? How many times did he deny it with a smile on his face?

He watched as two of his men carried a seventeen-year-old blond haired girl with a sock in her mouth and tied up by her wrists. She was struggling as hard as she could, but he was helpless as they lifted her up and held her up by a meat hook that tried to her bindings. Damian walked up to the girl who tried to kick him, but he easily dodges and punched her in the face to stop her. "Bad girl. Didn't Daddy teach you manners?"

"Stone! I bed you! I'll do anything! Just let my daughter go! She's sorry! I'm sorry! Just pleaseeeee!" the father begged, sobbing so loud that it echoed in the room.

"Well, I am feeling in a good mood so maybe I'll let her live, but only if you play a game with me," said Damian with a smirk. "Bring them here boys."

Two of his muscles nodded and presented to them crowd two identical green buckets. Damian walked over to Robert and wrapped an arm around him while giving a big smile. "Okay, so one of these buckets contains simple water. Nothing bad about it, I promise. The other one? Get this. Battery acid." Robert's head snapped towards Stone's. "Oh yeah. Have you ever seen flesh melt with that shit? It's fucking cool. Fascinating to watch people melt like the Wicked Witch of the West."

Upon hearing that, Robert's daughter struggled even more.

"Now, you have to make a choice of what your daughter gets drenched in. Guess wrong, and well I hope they have funerals in soup cans. Guess right, and your daughter just gets a nasty cold. Ugh, personally I'd rather take the acid. I hate getting sick." Robert began to hyperventilate as Damian got off and pulled a gun out. "Also, you have ten seconds to choose or I just blow her brains out as well as yours. On-"

"Right! The one on the right!" shouted Robert.

"Man, not even going to let me get to nine at least? At least, let it be dramatic," wined Damian before putting the gun away. Snapping to the goon on the right, he unleashed the containments within his bucket.

The girl screamed for a second, but it faded when she realized her skin wasn't melting. Robert sighed in relief and thanked God while Damian couldn't help but clap. "Wow, you're quite a lucky guy." Taking the cigarette out and stomping it on the floor he then walked away from Robert and snapped to the guy on the left. "Too bad I gotta get rid of this batter acid."

"Eh?" asked Robert, but before he could realize what was happening the bucket was thrown at him as well as its contents.

Robert's screams roared out as the acid flayed his flesh and began to melt his skin. His eyes had even got some of it and it was melting inside as well. His daughter flailed and screamed upon seeing her father melting to muscle and bone before her very eyes. Damian, watching the scene with a satisfied smirk, asked one of his goons, "You getting this on film?"

Although he was using his phone to tape the entire thing, the man was turning away in disgust. "Y-yeah."

"Good, make sure to send this to Detective Shaw later. Sure, it will pop a few blood vessels… man I think I can even see his brain from here," replied Damian with awe. The daughter continued to scream despite the sock in her mouth and Damian rolled his eyes before drawing his pocket knife, Shiva.

A split second he stabbed her in the throat with it, twisting it a bit before pulling it out and letting her slowly choke on her own blood. "Well, I'm bored now. Come boys, let's get out of here."

Damian and his goons left the meat room and left the two for dead in the freezing cold. It would be three hours before the police arrived to get them out of there following the message sent to Detective Shaw.