The moon was out and full, shining brilliantly over the city, though no matter how beautiful it could make the city look, not even it could make Otis' compound look even the smallest bit pleasant. In his room Otis tossed and turned in his slumber, 'Weakling.' came into his mind, the voice not his own. 'Pathetic piece of shit.' Otis in turn grumbled and snarled in his sleep, 'How in the hell did I get stuck with a runt like you. You'll amount to nothing, I should just kill you before you embarrass me by dying like the weak little disgrace you are.' Otis jerked awake, panting as cold sweat ran down his face. The look of fear didn't last but a micro second as his face contorted into a viscous scowl, his fist clenching tightly.
Getting out of his bed Otis walked over his dresser, opening it and pulling out a flask. Opening the flask he took a few good gulps, only to look at himself in the mirror. The sheer sight of himself bringing back memories his past, memories that still felt like they were only yesterday. Otis thought back to the start of it all, the start of the hell life had decided to give him and that he was willing to give back.
"WHERE IS HE?!" Roared a male doberman as he stormed through a house that was clearly not anyone's first choice, "WHERE IS THAT PIECE OF SHIT!" He continued, only for a meek looking female doberman hesitantly trying to to ease his rag.
"H-honey...please…he's only a child…he didn't know..." The female doberman was cut off by a furious slap across the face that sent her to the ground.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE TRY TO PROTECT HIM!" Her husband roared as he barged passed her, "I WON'T HAVE YOU CODDLING THE LITTLE BASTARD. HE'S ALREADY A WORTHLESS WEAKLING AS IT IS! YOU'LL JUST MAKE HIM WEAKER!" He snarled before barging into what was a not all that well kept of a kid's bedroom, only a few toys could be seen, "WHERE ARE YOU RUNT! STOP HIDING AND SHOW A FUCKING SPINE!" Her husband yelled as he looked about.
In the closet a young Otis was shaking, petrified by his father's rage as he held a flask tight in his paws. He had seen what his father was like when he drank, how much worse he could be. All he wanted was to try and stop his father from drinking for one day, thinking that just that one break would make his father less violent. Though as his father opened the door he could see that that was not the case. There was a malice in those eyes, an anger and rage at the world and anyone who didn't want to stand up and fight. Otis quivered, he'd lower his tail between his legs and let his ears flatten if they could, but sadly his father gad his tail docked and ears cut not long after his birth to remove him showing any weakness. As he was roughly grabbed and yanked out of the closet all he could do was look at his father with terrified eyes.
"FUCKING COWARD!" His father yelled before roughly slapping Otis onto the floor. "HIDING MY FLASK THEN COWERING LIKE A WEAK PATHETIC HERBIVORE." The doberman ranted as he kicked the young pup in the stomach. "YOU'RE NO FUCKING SON OF MINE! IF YOU WERE YOU'D GROW A FUCKING PAIR AND USE YOUR STRENGTH TO GET WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU DESERVE!" Otis' father grabbed him by the head, lifting him to eye level. "IF YOU DON'T USE YOUR STRENGTH THEN EVERY SINGLE ANIMAL WILL WALK RIGHT OVER YOU! IT'S BAD ENOUGH WE DOGS ARE SEEN LIKE FUCKING WANNA BE WOLVES OR JUST FLAT OUT USED BY SOCIETY!"
"S-sor-" Otis was cut off by a punch to the gut.
"Don't you DARE fucking apologize, It's a sign of weakness!" Otis' father father berated. "If you even fucking DARE think of apologizing I'll throw you out on the fucking street! Or-" He trailed off, Otis' eyes going wide as he felt the barrel of a gun being pressed against his head. "I'll fucking kill you. I will NOT tolerate weakness, is that clear? I'd kill you before you embarrass me."
Otis just gulped as he nodded, trembling in fear as he looked at his dad, though that didn't stop him from being punched again. Not that this was anything new, it was almost a frequent occurrence were it not for the fact that there were the odd times his father was too drunk to do anything. Hell, even when he was sober his father wasn't really any better, filled with nothing but hate and resentment.
"Stop fucking trembling!" His father shouted. "A man doesn't show ANY fear! If you don't want me splattering your brains across this room you'll stop right now!" He father threatened, to which Otis slowly and meekly got himself to stop. "At least you finally did one fucking thing right." His father growled before just letting him fall to the floor, glaring at Otis he pinned him, opening his flask. "You want my flask, here!" he said before forcing Otis to down some alcohol. He then grumbled as Otis coughed, kicking him again before he took headed out the room. He'd glare at his wife, downing what was in his flask before storming out of the house as he slammed the door.
Otis' mother, although shaking and frightened, slowly walked into Otis room. She'd look at her son as he started trembling again, it pained her to see him like this but at the same time she didn't want to risk making her husband even more furious. She looked at her son, wanting to comfort him but flinching at the sheer thought of what her husband might do. All she could do was look upon her son with a saddened gaze, "I'm...sorry..." was all she said before leaving the room in submissive defeat.
A few years passed, nothing changed as his father grew only more violent and hateful. His drinking even became more and more prevalent as he started to hurt his wife and Otis even more regularly. His anger towards the world and society only seemed to grow as his situation didn't improve and they stayed in the same decrepit house.
"WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY!" His father roared before deliver a punch to an older Otis, sending him to the ground.
"T-to keep...my guard up…" Otis said as he got back up.
"That's right! A fight's not over till the other guy's either unconscious or dead, preferably dead." His father said before throwing another punch at Otis, hitting him square in the jaw. "If you show ANY sign of weakness you'll be either killed, left for dead, or someone's lunch."
Otis rubbed his jaw, he hated this, ever sense he was able to do so his father started to teach him how to fight. He wasn't gentle either, he gave Otis everything he had and berated him or worse of he didn't do EXACTLY as his father instructed. His mother wasn't source of of much comfort either, she just coward and did as his dad said. He hated the whole damn thing. The only time his mother did build up the courage to show him any love was when his dad wasn't around and wouldn't be for hours. It infuriated the doberman.
Otis tried to deliver a punch back, only for his father to block it and knock him to the ground. "You're still a weak piece of shit!" His father said before beginning to pummel Otis. "This is what happens when you're weak! This is the pain you'll experience, if you don't get strong than you're as good as dead and you'll deserve nothing!" After a few minutes his father stopped, getting off him and going to grab his flask and glaring at Otis who was fighting back tears. "Worthless shit." He remarked before looking to his wife. "Patch him up, I don't want him bleeding when we do this again tomorrow." he growled before heading off and out of the house, drinking from his flask.
A few more years passed, Otis was now fourteen and things had only remained the same, if not gotten a bit worse with his mother. His father continued to drink more and more as he got angrier and more violent, not even caring for his wife's health when she got sick. His mother wasn't much help either, cowering in fear as she stayed subservient to her husband and just taking the verbal and physical abuse. Each day, each week, each month, it seemed to just take more and more of a toll on her until one faithful night.
"What do yo think you're doing?!" Otis' father roared.
Hearing his father shout, the young child to get out of his room to see what was going on. Peering into the living room only to see his mother broken, trembling as she stood near the door with a gun pointed at her husband. The fear on her face conveyed nothing but a woman who was on the very edge of a complete breakdown. That, or becoming nothing more than an empty shell of an animal.
"I-I-I've had enough…I-I want to go…a-and I'm-" Otis' mother stammered in utter fear as she held the gun in her trembling hand.
"You'll do no such fucking thing! You're mine! Just like that worthless piece of shit son of ours. You take one more step towards that door and you won't have enough time to-" His father paused as he heard the click if the gun, only laughing and grinning with malicious intent. "You best hope you don't miss, because the moment you do, and I know you will from how you're trembling, you're dead."
The air was tense in the room, Otis watched in horror as seconds felt like an eternity. His eyes went wide as he saw his mother glance in his direction, looking at him for a moment with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry..." Was all she said before she quickly moved the gun to under her jaw and pulled the trigger. Her body falling limp as Otis couldn't help but let out a scream of horror.
His father, not even phased or giving the sight a moment, just barged towards Otis in rage, grabbing him roughly. "WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY ABOUT SHOWING WEAKNESS!" He roared. "She was weak, worthless, just like you." His father snarled. "Now I have to take care of you, fucking great. Know this, if you do ANYTHING to potentially embarrass me or show ANY more signs of weakness, it'll be your fucking body on that floor next." Otis only gulped as he nodded, eyes wide with fear as his father let go of him. "Good, now you're going to help me clean this fucking mess up."
Otis once more nodded, not saying a word as he was forced to help his father clean the blood and get rid of his mother's body. Nothing changed from there, each day his father would would just continue to berate and demean him as he taught him how to fight; though Otis just assumed he used it as an excuse to hit him. There was no joy in the home, his father only gave him enough food to be satisfied and not complain.
It was not long after his mother's death that he finally found out where his father went off all the time when he drank or was in a foul mood. He had dragged Otis with him on one of his excursions and revealed that he was in fact in charge of a gang. It was from there that Otis first got introduced to gang life, mostly being forced to run minor errands so that he wasn't dead weight. His father even threatened Otis if he didn't do what he was told or failed to do it he'd sell him off as stock to the back alley market or worse. Despite this, Otis rather quickly took to the gang life, though it didn't impress his father.
During his time in his father's gang he stumbled across an albino doberman, he was meek and didn't really look like he fit in the gang environment, especially with how he carried himself. This irritated Otis; and yet, when he saw that the other members started to really single him out for 'entertainment', Otis couldn't help but step in and help the other dog as he saw a part of himself in the albino, defending him from the others with a clear viciousness.
As he got to know the other doberman he came to learn his name was Felix and was surprisingly intelligent and capable in terms of getting things and forming connections. A sort of friendship grew, though Otis never treated him fully as a friend. Together they set about making a name for themselves in the gang with Otis doing the dirty work and Felix using his intellect and connections to get things done effectively as well as giving advice where needed. As the years passed Otis and Felix rose higher in the gang, gaining notoriety and respect among the other members, all of which came to respect the pair except for Otis' father. None of his achievements, none of what he did for the gang, seemed to impress his father.
He was still treated as a worthless disposable lackey that was only good for doing his job and nothing more. This made the already immense resentment and hatred he had towards his father to grow even more as he was berated for the smallest of things or even nothing at all. All of which climaxed one night when Otis was twenty two and finally had enough of his father. During a particularly heated argument Otis grabbed his gun and aimed it at his father's head as he sat in his chair in the living room.
"You won't fucking do it." His father laughed. "You're weak, just like your mother."
"SHUT UP!" Otis shouted. "I'm strong! I have done EVERYTHING you told me to, endured EVERY demeaning errand and insult, suffered your beatings! And yet no matter what I did, no matter how well I did it, it was never enough! The whole gang sees and acknowledges my accomplishments, so why don't you?!"
"Because you're a worthless piece of shit! You always were and always will be!" Otis yelled in utter rage at what his father had put him through. "I don't care how well you do, you will ALWAYS be that cowardly weak brat that I should of shot or abandoned for dead!" He continued. "The only reason you got in the gang was because I finally had to bring you with me, you didn't get in on your own merit."
Otis' father scoffed as he looked at his son, still looking at him with a sense of control. "I still proved-"
"You proved nothing!" His father roared as he stood up. "You were HANDED the opportunity, you used Felix as a crutch, the only thing you can say you did is beat up or kill some bastards. You didn't earn anything!" His father berated. "You're too weak to run the gang, you'll never be strong enough to have ANYTHING. Now, I think you're long overdue for a lesson you little-" Just as his father was about to rear up to hit Otis, the doberman pulled the trigger and his father's corpse fell to the ground.
"FUCK YOU old man." Otis retorted as he spat on his father's corpse, going to not only take his gun but also his flask. Though the words his father spewed, just as all the other things he had said throughout Otis' life, remained in his head.
From that day forward Otis took over his father's gang, controlling it with fear of his retaliation and a tight grip. They were still relatively small compared to the more notable gangs that had risen to power, but they did well enough. Still, Otis enjoyed the perks he was able to get, there was always some women around the compound, willingly or no, and drinks and drugs to spare. Life seemed pretty good, they had the reputation of a pretty violent gang that wasn't to be messed with but not quite like that of those above them.
One day, after a particularly brutal fight Otis had, he found himself slouched by a building at that bordered the better part of town and the slums. He didn't quite know how he had gotten there, but he didn't care, he just held his bruised arm and sat there, debating on how best to bandage himself.
"Are you alright?" Came a young female voice.
"Fuck off, I don't need your-" Otis was stopped mid sentence as he laid eyes on a young Siberian tigress.
The Siberian tigress huffed at him. "Looks like you need help to me." she said as she knelt down and looked at the arm, "Here, let me help." she said as she made a makeshift bandage with Otis' shirt. "I'm Anya by the way, you?"
"Otis…" Otis introduced himself. "I'm guessing that's short for Anastasia." He remarked.
"Yeah, but I prefer Anya." Anya nodded. "Now, let's get you to a hospital so you can get checked out." She said as she started to try and help him up.
"No, I'm fine." Otis huffed. "I don't do hospitals."
"And why not?" Anya asked as she continued to help him up. "And would it kill you to not be dead weight and help me get you up?"
"Because I just don't." Otis stated. "Besides, I have someone who can get me the medical treatment I need, and I'm fine where I am."
"Well OK then Mr. tough guy, be that way." Anya huffed. "But if you do have someone who'll treat you I'm helping you get to them."
Otis blinked as he looked at Anya, surprised at how she was so determined to help him...to be nice to him, something he had never really known. "I-"
"I'm not having any excuses, now come on." Anya said as she tried helped him up again.
Otis just grumbled as he helped her get himself up by not being dead weight and letting her support him. Why was she being nice to him, a total stranger? Nothing nice was ever given to him, she must be after something. But as they talked while she helped him through the streets and back alleys they got to know each other better.
She seemed...genuinely sympathetic and nice. She actually cared and showed concerned for him...that, that was something Otis never had. He liked it, he didn't want to be without this kindness. She didn't even to really mind when they got to his compound, helping him inside.
He made absolutely sure that NONE of his underlings gawked at or touched her, threatening them with death if they attempted to do so. Much to his surprise, Anya didn't really seem all that unsettled by the fact that he was a gang leader, not paying it too much mind at all or at least not showing if it did.
"Thank you for helping Otis Ms..." Felix said as he approached the two, offering a polite smile.
"Anya." Anya introduced herself to the albino doberman with a friendly smile.
"Anya." Felix finished. "Again, thank you for your trouble, I'll make sure that Otis is attended to." He said as he took over supporting Otis.
Anya smiled a bit. "It was no problem at all."
Felix nodded. "Well it's still very much appreciated. If you need anything at all in the future don't hesitate to ask." He offered. "I know that's not exactly something most would like to hear or have from...an organization like this, but you do have the offer."
Anya nodded. "Thank you, but I think I might not need it, if my dad knew where I was right now...well, he'd be more than unhappy...he's overprotective to say the least..."
"I see, then perhaps you best be going then before he starts to worry then." Felix suggested.
"Probably a good idea, it was nice meeting you Otis." Anya said as she turned around to leave.
"Wait." Otis said as he looked Anya.
Anya stopped as she turned to look at Otis. "Hmm?"
"Can I...see you again?" Otis asked as he looked at her, his voice surprisingly not as threatening. "At least….to show my thanks."
Anya blinked as she looked at Otis, taking a moment to think before answering him. "I guess…I don't really see the harm in it."
Otis smiled a bit, a smile that surprised Felix as it hadn't been one he had seen since they became friends. "Good…" He said.
There was a brief exchange of information before the Siberian tigress headed off. It wasn't long after the encounter that Anya got a call from the doberman and they started to hang out. Otis enjoyed her company, she wasn't like most the girls that were around the compound. She was unique, special. And the more he was around her the more he enjoyed her company and the more wanted to be around her. She was everything he could ever want to have and what first started as just mere wanting to be around her turned into pursuit over the years.
At first she just thought he was just being to friendly, but as Otis became a bit too persistent the more it began to unnerve the Siberian tigress. He was nice sure, but there was just something about him that she just didn't feel comfortable or safe about. She'd politely decline his advances but soon to her shock he started to become more aggressive with his pursuit. What once was just mere determined pursuit had turned into an aggressive and demeaning desire. He started to threaten her, light ones at first, but as she continued to rebuff his advances Otis became more abusive and violent in his longing for her. He'd start insulting her, threatening to do take her little brother into the gang or worse, even saying she was weak and pathetic; that she could never be strong enough to do anything.
Then, then there were those she started to show interest in, the others that started to pursue her. That made his blood boil. She was HIS, he saw her first, there was no other explanation for why she helped him out those years ago other than she must have had some interest in him, why else hang around him for so long? No, that wouldn't do, she was his, no one else s. So, he did the only thing he knew would work, he had his men find the bastards, guy or girl, then kill and dispose of them as though they just vanished. This may have disgusted Felix, but Felix didn't understand, he was weak, he could never understand. There was something there, he knew there was!
As the memories started to fade he glared at his reflection. 'You'll never have her...you're too weak you piece of shit.' He heard his father's voice mocking him, Otis just clenched the flask and snarled, punching the mirror and cracking it. "Fuck you!" He snarled. "Fuck Felix, I never should have agreed to leave Anya be."
Otis stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror, mulling over what to do in his head. That wolf, the filthy fleabag, he'll take her….he'll take anya from him, he knew it! Anya was the only good thing in his life, he deserved her! If Felix didn't want him going to be around Anya for a while fine, but he said nothing of having others look in on her. That's what he'll do, he'll reach out to his contacts, have them watch Anya, keep an eye on her and that fucking wolf. If there was evidence of that bastard moving in on HIS girl then all bets were off.
"I'll make the arrangements tomorrow." Otis murmured. "they'll watch them for a week, bring back any evidence. If there is….I'll just take her by force and see that mutt DEAD." He said coldly before taking one more long drink from his flask before putting it up and heading back to bed.