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Rising from our seats two and a half hours later, Cherry and I exited the movie theater into the seemingly dead, abandoned mall. A few thrilled moviegoers passed by us out into the exit for the parking lots, and as we departed into the bustling street, the ocelot couldn't stop talking animatedly about how much he loved the film.

"Remember when Jacob Candle caught up to those goons on the motorcycle? I could feel his rage in my seat! And when he made their cars collide like dominoes? That was fucking awesome! But not as cool as that time he used a sword to take out an army in that warehouse..."

As the lad continued to gush like a proper fanboy, my senses warily remained heightened now that we were outside. My wolfish ears perked themselves up and down at the sounds of any vehicle slowing down nearby, be they loud insomniacs or patient taxi drivers on their third cup of coffee. I noticed one light-hooded dalmatian glowering down at his phone, leaning against a bus stop sign. Next to him stood a feline dressed in similar clothes, neither of them looking at the other while exchanging envelopes. I subtly noted how one envelope seemed more condensed than the other, likely stuffed with cash.

My thoughts were interrupted when Cherry cleared his throat.

"Hm?" I turned to him.

"So..." he chirped, tail wagging enthusiastically behind him as we walked along an empty street, "What'd you think of the movie? Pretty cool, right?"

Remaining alert for any sudden movements or noise nearby, I decided to be brutally honest, "It was very ridiculous."

Cherry raised an eyebrow and laughed, "What really?"

"Yes. I found it very ridiculous."

"Come on! It was great, and you know it!"

"You think I know it?" I queried his sarcastic statement, tail swishing against the heels of my shoes. "Sorry to disappoint, but it was ridiculous action movie fluff, plain and simple."

The spotted feline started to pout, "I'm just saying that I've been waiting a long time for this to come out, and my date for the evening tells me it was 'ridiculous action movie fluff'? Even after I sucked you off in there?"

A momentary blush began forming under my cheeks, but I forced it to recede. Lest the leering prostitute beside me used it for further fuel to his arguments. "Sorry, but that is just my opinion," I replied curtly, "Besides, as far as sequels to a franchise go, it is no chip like Godfather Part II."

"Ha! Both that and this are a masterpiece of sequels!"

"Something we can agree on, no?"

Movement caught my eye. A short, hunched squirrel wrapped in layers of raggedy clothes crossed the street with a shopping cart filled to the brim with crushed soda cans, plus what appeared to be a series of cardboard signs in the baby seat. The squirrel vagrant, a female I surmised from the dark headfur draping out the hoodie, hurried her shuffling when a police car stopped at the intersection.

I turned to Cherry in the middle of his deconstruction about my review, hoping not to give him a good view. "Wanna know why it didn't work for me, kid?"

He paused mid-sentence to give me a look, then shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

"No assassin's guild would effectively hire him," I apologized. "Remember when Jacob Candle interrogated that bear and then killed him when he got the information?"

"Yeah?" Cherry raised an eyebrow. "What did he do wrong though?"

"He left his fingerprints on the gun and walked out of the warehouse onto a crowded street. No doubt the police would have his DNA too, after spitting in the bear's muzzle. Sloppy. Don't even get me started on him not wearing a mask the entire time. The mooks he knocked out would easily identify him not just to a police officer but enemies of Jacob as well. And frankly, his way of torture is mediocre."

"How mediocre?"

Mediocre in that physical torture for information rarely works. Mediocre in that a assassin would not easily reveal critical information to their enemies after having lost a single thumb. Mediocre in that the trained assassin would not so much as offer bad information to ensnare Jacob Candle in a trap by his other adversaries.

I added another complaint for Cherry, "Do not even get me started on that scene in the subway."

"That was a hilariously badass scene, ya know!"

"No silencer is that quiet!" I laughed with him.

The excitable ocelot lightly smacked my right shoulder. "You're ruining it for me!"

Laughing shortly, my tail began wagging against his thigh.

"Admittedly," I confessed and smirked, "the best part wasn't even in the movie."

The ocelot mirrored my grin, licking his lips. "You were pretty tasty."

Not long after two a.m. and it seemed as if Lakertown had transformed in a different metropolis from when it was in daytime. It certainly seemed different on the streets than from a vantage point. While the twinkling skyscrapers along the distant lakeside could be found over the rooftops, automobiles occasionally snaked their way past the random furs. Some were out to enjoy themselves at a night club or seedy bar, others trying their best to avoid muggers around every corner on their way home.

We eventually came to Cherry's current residence, a low-rise motel tucked between a freeway barrier and a long boulevard of seedy shops. The place seemed familiar to me for good reason. From what local gossip concerned, the Traveler's Inn did not have the expensive bedsheets or specialized fur shampoos that could be rummaged after a night in other hotels, but a room at the Traveler's was cheap enough to host whatever drug-fueled, lust-induced party a nobody wanted. The only things that mattered included keeping the noises down or paying for whatever damages the 'party' accrued. Breaking any of the unspoken rules guaranteed blue-and-red lights flashing outside the front door.

"Not exactly a five-star resort, huh?" Cherry joked as we approached his room. "It also ain't exactly your penthouse, but it's better than a cardboard box. Wanna come inside?" He flashed a fanged smile my way, partially lit by the ugly glow of the room's overhead light.

"No thanks," I answered bluntly. "It is late."

"Well, at least use the rest room before you go, alright?" he proposed, then quipped, "I'm one to talk, but you certainly drank a lot back at the theater. It's also a long walk back."

There was little to argue against it. Looking back once more on instinct, only to see nobody else, I followed the short feline inside. Clothes, pizza boxes and some lingerie littered the room, a few of which I recognized him wearing. What caught my attention though were the lube and boxes of condoms by his nightstands, as well as the DVD copies of various movies. The room had been rented out for some time.

After taking a quick piss in the small bathroom, I reflected on the night as I washed my paws clean. It had been...interesting, to say the least. When Cherry wasn't listing off various film trivia or utilizing his lips between my legs, the night had been well-spent.

Walking out to see Cherry grin while sitting on the foot of his bed, my attention found itself drawn to movement. A car. It screeched to a halt in the parking lot outside the window. The intense glint of movement from the passenger seat caused my hairs to rise.

"Get down!"

I pulled the startled ocelot with me onto the floor.

Muffled pops resonated through our skulls. Cherry cried into the carpeting. Machine gunfire caused specks of glass and drywall to sprinkle over us. Holding him underneath me, I scooted us far from the door while the motel room's walls were shredded. It wasn't until several seconds later that the targeted chaos became silent. The only sounds were our labored breathing and the cracking glass freshly broken off the window.

"Cherry?" I murmured into his folded ear, "Cherry are you hurt? We-Were you hit?"

He shook his head under me, whimpering out, "N-No..."

"Cherry..." I hissed softly, reaching my arm out to hand him a key from my nearby coat. "I am going to get up. I am going to get up and find out if they're still out there."

The door abruptly burst open. The ocelot under me stifled a whimper and I jumped up from the foot to tackle the intruder. He was a tall coyote in dark clothing and crudely worn black mask over his snout. He had a knife gripped in his paw. Everything moved like still images on a slideshow. I pummeled him against the wall laden with bullet holes, kneed him in the stomach, only to realize the coyote was stronger and more persistent. Especially when he nearly grazed my right pectoral with the knife, screaming and trying to stab me. Luckily, my reflexes were faster.

Seconds later and I redirected one of his wide, amateur swings to push the weapon into his throat. Blood sprayed out and bathed everything surrounding us in crimson.

Panicked fear spread across the attacker's muzzle. His fingers tried to reach for the hilt of the jutting knife. The coyote's chest lurched madly as his limbs spasmed. He tried saying something--either to me or his God--only to gurgle out more blood and slump back against the wall beside the door. Tears streaked his calmed face until I saw that spark in his eyes finally disappear for good.

I breathed a sigh of relief, only to hear something else besides my heartbeat.

"Y-You killed him...You just killed that guy..."

At first, my attention lay focused on the running car sitting across the dark parking lot. Inside the driver's seat, a yellow-furred dog tried peering through the passenger side window towards the room. The window and busted door were partially open. Given the driver hadn't left yet, he likely didn't know I just killed his partner.

My ears twitched and drooped at the sound of the ocelot sniffling behind me. We needed to leave before the motel's other occupants were brave enough to leave, or before the LPD arrived.

"Cherry, I need you to listen to me very carefully," I kept my voice level to him and slowly reached into my pants pocket, "I am going to go out there. This man wasn't alone." My fingers pulled out the keys to the penthouse, patting them onto the littered, dusty bed. "As soon as I leave, as soon as I go after the driver out there, take my keys here. Go to my penthouse as fast as you can carry yourself. Don't stop anywhere, don't_look_ at anyone, don't talk to anyone, even if they're a cop. Just go. Can you do that for me, kid?"

The ocelot breathed heavily, "O-Okay...okay. Sure thing, Fergus."

Shame filled the pit of my stomach, putting trust into the feline that he'd closely follow my instructions, but there wasn't any time to waste. No time to grab my Kevlar vest across the city or consider the fact I left prints at the crime scene. What mattered most was not allowing the driver to get away.

"My name isn't Fergus, by the way. It's Markus. Good luck!"

Bursting out of the doorway, I didn't hesitate to make a beeline to my latest target.

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