Crime In Twenty Prompts - Part One
#1 of Crime in Twenty Prompts
This is the first installment of a project explained below. I'm a little late this week and the first part is a little short (mostly because I started this project yesterday and thus only had one day to write this instead of the full week I'm going to get after this), though time permitting I will launch these on Wednesdays.
In this first part we get to meet some of our lovely cast. Adorable, aren't they? Who needs a bow when you have a gash in your leg from a knife?
This is a prompt project I hope to actually complete. Essentially, I'll be uploading a story on Wednesday each week to coincide with the current Thursday Prompt done by Duroc. To find the prompts, please visit his page or head on over to the threads on the FWG forums: http://www.anthroaquatic.com/forum/.....php?board=13.0 . Even though this isn't the first time a project like this has been attempted with the prompts, I hope this may inspire others to try their hands with the prompts. They are quite fun!
I hope you enjoy this story! I would appreciate all kinds of feedback, though please keep it civilized.
Part One
"Yo, Mart, you wanna help me with this body or what?" Tristan looked at his associate, a stocky bear who had been motionless for several minutes, staring at the corpse that used to be a ferret. It sat on the ground maybe twenty feet in front of him. Tristan widened his eyes, apparently annoyed that a response was taking so long.
"Huh? Oh, sure." He hobbled over to Tristan, still feeling the effects of a slight knife wound to his left calf. He didn't understand why he needed to help; the wolf seemed to have no trouble hoisting the male into the car and back out when they arrived at the pier. "Whaddya want me to do?"
Tristan looked at him. "Grab his feet. I wanna throw him as far away from the dock as possible. Maybe the tide'll take him away." The bear looked out at the water, questioning if he should mention that the tide didn't reach anywhere near the dock. He opted against it.
"Okay." Martin grabbed the body by the ankles, Tristan grabbing it by the wrists.
"We'll throw on the third swing. Ready?" Martin nodded. "Good." They both grabbed tight, tensing their muscles to ready the throw. "1, 2, and 3!" The body launched into the cool night sky, sailing a good hundred feet away from the edge of the dock. It landed into the water with a definitive splash.
"Guess that takes care of Burgess," the wolf noted. "Who we got next?" Martin reached into the pocket of his black leather jacket, pulling out a small notebook with the letters H.L. written across the front in gold. The book was worn, probably decades old. He opened the book to a page roughly halfway through, placing a checkmark next to the name "Richard Burgess".
"Tripski, it looks like." He closed the book and placed it back into his pocket.
"Shit, you mean that lion that's the CEO of that big accounting firm? The one with the extensive security force?" Tristan pulled off his hat and ran his blunt claws through the fur behind his ears. "How we gonna get to him?"
Martin looked at his associate, wondering the same thing. "We should probably talk to Mack."
A short car ride later, the two arrived at a rundown building a half dozen blocks from the pier. A half-lit neon sign above the doorway read "Lakeside Comics", the door itself decorated with promise of ten percent comic book discounts, a trading card gathering coming soon, and a small red sign reading "closed". Martin smiled to himself whenever he approached the building. "Who'da thunk to hide an organization such as ours below a nerdy place like this?" he thought.
Tristan pulled a key out of the pocket of his torn denim jacket and inserted it into the lock. A quick turn and a pull and the door opened. A chime sounded from the back of the shop, signaling the arrival of new potential customers. Only they weren't customers; they were tenets.
"You think Mack's here right now?" The wolf asked. "I mean it _is_almost midnight. Don't most managerial people keep normal sleepin' hours?"
"I'm not your normal 'managerial people'," a voice said from the back of the store. A small door marked "employees only" opened, revealing a short, tired-looking weasel. He wore a charcoal grey suit that, as he liked to remark, was a good buy down at the Clusterwear Department Store. He held a light smile, a sign that he was in a good mood.
"Hey, Mack!" the bear exclaimed as he stepped forward into the store. "How's your cousin's business doing?"
Mack chuckled. "You moron. You know he doesn't tell me about that stuff. That was the deal. We don't talk about work to each other, but he lets us stay here so long as we help his business boom." He looked to a large, empty section of shelf marked "new arrivals". "He's got a huge shipment of the latest...something blood series-"
"Fresh Blood," Martin interrupted.
"Yeah, that's it. Anyway, he's got a huge shipment sitting here to put up tomorrow morning, and that's after the twenty pages of pre-orders he got filled for this thing. I'd say we're keeping up our end of the bargain and then some. He doesn't tell me about his work, and I don't tell him about mine. He made sure we were clear on that one." He walked up and patted Martin on the back. "Nice memory."
"Thanks. We needed to talk to ya about the next name."
Mack looked up at the ceiling and placed his hand on his chin. "Next name... that's Renaldo Tripski, right?" The two nodded, Tristan's hand moving back up to scratch behind his ears. "You're right; he's going to be a bit of a problem. Or at least he would be, if I hadn't set up a little something last time our contact visited his office." The weasel pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket. "Remote servers. We can see everything going on in their systems at any time. That includes their extensive security cameras."
Martin thought for a second. "Wait, that doesn't mean..."
"You bet your stumpy tail it does." The grin on Mack's face grew wide. "You boys get to spend tomorrow night helping out our friend Chip."