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The quiet pitter patter of rain could be heard all throughout the apartment building as thunder rumbled in the distance. A thick, gray mass of clouds hung over the city on that Saturday morning as Isaac Norton busied himself by dusting and polishing his trophy collection. The tiger hardly took notice of the weather, focusing all his efforts into maintaining the symbols of his athletic achievements. Every single individual trophy had a specific spot, a definite place on the bookcase that so proudly displayed his greatness. Putting the last of the trophies back down, he stepped back, putting his paws up in the shape of a frame, as though he was going to take a picture. He moved back and forth, left and right. He narrowed his eyes, squinting to see that just the right amount of light entered his vision. He put his paws down, grinning contentedly.

"Perfect," he said in a low tone, rubbing his paws together. "Absolutely . . . perfect."

The doorbell rang. The tiger thought to himself if he was expecting any guests that day, but knew that he wasn't. He hadn't ordered anything recently, and it was unlikely that a delivery company would be dropping off a package on a Saturday. He went to the door, peering through the peephole, he saw a gold badge . Opening the door, he saw it was a half soaked leopard in a cheap gray suit that was holding the badge.

"How can I help you, officer?" asked the tiger politely.

"Detective Lowenstein," corrected the leopard before sneezing into his right jacket sleeve. "I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Cassie Foreman."

"I'm sorry, who?" asked Isaac, feigning ignorance of his victim's name.

"The vixen that lives down the hall from you," responded Detective Lowenstein.

"Oh, her," said Isaac. "What about her?"

"Our Missing Persons department has received calls from her employer, your landlord and her parents. Nobody seems to have any idea where she's went to."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Isaac. "Have you guys looked in her apartment?"

"Yeah," said the leopard, acting slightly annoyed at the question. "We had your landlord let us in to check the place out. Looks like she just took off without telling anybody."

"Huh," said Isaac. "Did you find her keys or her cell phone?"

"No," said the detective. "We can't get a signal off her cell and she doesn't have any vehicles registered in her name." He gave the tiger a hard look. "May I ask what your relationship is with Ms. Foreman?"

"I really don't have one other than to say 'hello' to her when we pass each other in the hall," Isaac said, not a trace of nervousness in his voice.

"So you don't hang out socially with her?" inquired the detective.

"Oh no," lied Isaac. "I'm a personal trainer, so I spend a lot of time out of the house with clients."

"So you haven't noticed anything strange about her behavior? She hasn't confided in you about anything troubling her lately?"

"Detective Lowenstein, before today I didn't even know her name. No, I haven't noticed anything strange and she hasn't said a word to me other than 'hello'."

"So you don't have anything to report?" asked the detective.

"I'm afraid not, sir," said Isaac, shaking his head.

"Okay," said Detective Lowenstein. Reaching into his inner jacket pocket, he handed the tiger a business card. "This is my number. Feel free to call me if you think of anything that might be helpful."

Isaac looked down at the card, studying it carefully. He looked back up at the leopard. "Yes. I'll certainly do that if I think of anything that might be helpful to your case, or if I see Ms. Foreman in the building!"

"Thanks," said the leopard before again sneezing into his jacket sleeve. "Mr?"

"Burwell," answered the tiger. "Isaac Burwell."

"You have a good day, Mr. Burwell," bid the detective. Isaac shut the door. Sitting down on the Italian leather couch, he thought about the past week. After killing Cassie, he wrapped her up in some blankets prior to stuffing her in a large box that some of his exercise equipment had been packaged in. When it was very late at night, he dragged the box across the hall, putting it on the elevator. When the elevator reached ground floor, he dragged it out to the parking lot of his apartment building, loading it into his SUV. With tools already inside his vehicle. He drove over an hour to a remote, wooded location outside the city. By moonlight, the tiger dug a grave for his strangled victim, but before he dispose of her, he made sure to add insult to injury. Just as he had done with the other seven victims, Isaac found several large, heavy stones and shoved them far up her vagina. That act never failed to give him a massive erection. Covering her desecrated corpse with earth, the tiger got back in his SUV and drove home. At his apartment, he thew his clothes in the laundry hamper, hopped in the shower, got out, dried off and went to bed. He slept like a baby that night.

"She was a good fuck," Isaac mused to himself. "But she was still a filthy slut."

The rain only intensified as the morning turned into the afternoon. Isaac was now at the gym working out. Lying on his back, the bulky tiger held a barbell filled with heavy weights above his chest. Gritting his teeth, he pushed it skyward, feeling the burn from the lactic acid being released in his body. He brought the bar back down, letting it hover a mere inch from the nipples on his chest. A muscular hyena stood behind the bench. Spotting him, he counted off every rep Isaac accomplished.

"One, two, three, four . . ."

Isaac pushed himself harder and harder, making sure to inhale and exhale at the proper times. He had to keep going, keep pumping the iron. With his arms raised up, he could feel his muscles starting to go. Quickly, the hyena took hold of the bar, placing it on the rest. Slightly light headed, Isaac slid out from underneath the bar and sat up. The hyena threw him a towel.

"Pretty good, man!" observed the hyena. "But I think we need to bump you up another ten pounds."

"You think so?" asked Isaac, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"Hell yeah, man. You put in eighteen reps on that one! I'd say it's time."

"Huh, I didn't even count the reps that time," admitted Isaac.

"That's what I'm here for, man," stated the hyena.

Isaac cracked a smile for the hyena. "Thanks, Henry."

Henry Beaumont, the hyena who had been spotting Isaac worked at Mt. Olympia Gym as a personal trainer, as did Isaac. When the two didn't have clients to work with, they enjoyed working out together. As Isaac cooled off, Henry pulled a candy bar from his pocket, but the unwrapping of the sweetened treat caught the ire of the tiger.

"What are you doing with that?" asked Isaac, staring in disbelief at what the hyena was doing.

"I'm going to eat it," answered Henry, bringing the candy bar up to his mouth. Isaac narrowed his eyes into an even more piercing, disproving glare.

"Not in front of me, you're not," informed Isaac. "We're employees of Mt. Olympus Gym, Henry. We need to set a good example."

Henry rolled his eyes, sighing, he found the nearest trash can and disposed of the candy bar. Mumbling under his breath, he returned to the weight bench, his arms folded in mock anger. "There," he snorted. "Are you happy now?"

"Very much so," Isaac answered. "You know how much I hate that stuff being around me."

"Yes, yes," replied the hyena, rolling his eyes once more. "Isaac Burwell, nutritional puritan!"

"Hey," snapped Isaac prior to sliding back underneath the barbell. "Being a nutritional puritan is what got me these guns!" The tiger flexed his biceps, showing off the thick, corded, almost tree trunk thick arms on his body. Henry couldn't debate with the results Isaac got. The hyena had never met anyone person in his life that took diet and exercise as seriously as the tiger did, though his devotion to his work often bordered on fanaticism. Henry just took it all in stride.

"Fair enough," conceded the hyena. "You ready to go again?"

"Always!" responded Isaac. "You got me?"

"I'm spottin'," assured Henry.

With his weight lifting gloves firmly secured around his gigantic paws, the tiger made sure his paws were in the proper position, with the outside pad wrapping securely around the smooth ring section that was in the middle of the knurled chrome. Taking a deep breath, the tiger lifted the barbell off the rest, letting it come down towards his chest. Inhaling, exhaling, the beast pumped the bar up and down, pushing himself harder, wanting to get to nineteen reps. Isaac could feel the burn in his affected muscle areas; it was what he lived for. No pain, no gain! Teeth gritted, nostrils flared, the tiger gave it his all. Henry counted out the reps one by one. Everything in Isaac's life ceased to exist, save for his bench presses.

"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen . . . nineteen!" counted the hyena. Taking the bar into his paws, he brought it back to the rest, amazed that not only could the tiger do more another set of reps, he was actually able to exceed the previous set! It was no wonder to him why Isaac was the most requested personal trainer in the entire gym.

"Damn," said the hyena. "How do you do that?"

"Sheer will power," the tiger informed him. He slid out from underneath the barbell. Henry handed him a towel so he could wipe down his brow. "I think you're right; next time we'll move me up ten pounds."

"Sounds good," said Henry, writing that note down in Isaac's workout journal. He handed the green covered notebook back to the tiger. "So, you callin' it a day?"

"Yeah," said Isaac. "Thank I'm gonna hit the showers."

Henry was going to ask him like he did every weekend, but he knew what the answer would be. "Hey, you wanna come over tonight? It's Saturday, and there's fights on HBO and Showtime."

"Nah," said Isaac, waving his paw. "I think I'm just going to sit around the house tonight."

"Come on," urged the hyena. "You need to get out and socialize more. What are you going to do your entire life? Work out? Let me tell you something . . ."

As Henry lectured the tiger about his lack of a social life, Isaac was busy staring off into the distance. There were a group of lionesses working out on some aerobic equipment. He narrowed his focus on them. His eyes were like two small fires burning bright as he watched the females work out. Eventually, his paws tightened into fists, shaking violently as applied more and more pressure to them. Henry continued his lecture until he noticed the strange behavior of his friend.

"Hey," said the hyena, tapping the tiger on the shoulder, but eliciting no response. Alarmed by Isaac's aggressive demeanor, he punched the tiger on the shoulder, rousting him from his trance like state.

"Hey!" yelled Henry. "You're not gonna start that shit again, are you?"

"What?" asked Isaac. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You had that crazy look again," informed Henry. "You remember what Mr. Atlas said? One more outburst like that and he's firing your ass."

"Yeah, yeah," said Isaac, standing up. "Look, I'm getting a shower, then I'm going home. I'm just going to enjoy a nice, quiet, peaceful evening alone, okay?"

"Okay," replied Henry, throwing his paws into the air in resignation. "Suit yourself."

Isaac walked back to the locker room to get his shower, all the while thinking about the lionesses working out. As he took his shower, he fantasized about what he like to do to them if he could only get away with it in the middle of the gym.

By evening, the rain had finally stopped, though the ground was still soak from the previous hours of precipitation. Isaac Burwell sat in his apartment, dressed in blue jeans with a black "Everlast" t-shirt in white lettering, his legs propped up on his couch as he read the latest edition of Men's Health. The apartment building was subdued, tranquil this Saturday evening. Most of the tenants were out shopping, visiting friends or going out to eat. The workout today had been an intense one, and the tiger was now feeling the weight of sleep pressing on him. His eyelids drooping, finally closing as the magazine slid out of his paws, falling on the apartment floor. Within minutes, he was snoring soundly.

_It had been another horrible day at school, but that was everyday really. Nine year old Isaac Burwell had braved the insults of his classmates, particularly the girls. They were the worst, the most vicious of all. The constant taunts of "tubby tiger", "fat ass", "wide load", they were thrown at him so many times a day, he didn't even bother counting them anymore. He endured it the whole bus ride home until the driver dropped him off at the dusty dirt road that was the driveway to his run down country house in the middle of nowhere, Texas.

It was just as he expected he would see when he got off school. Daddy had left that morning to go out on another Gospel preaching campaign, leaving him alone with his mother, and whoever she had invited over when her evangelist husband wasn't around. Isaac counted two cars and two pickup trucks in addition to the beat up station wagon that was his mother's car. The overweight tiger watched as a tumble weed crossed his path on the jaunt up to the house. Isaac braved himself for the worse, knowing full well what he would hear when he got inside._

It didn't even take getting indoors before he heard the sounds of his mother entertaining her "gentleman" guests. The moans, groans, whimpers and cries penetrated the ramshackle dwelling the Burwells called a "home". Taking out his key, he unlocked the door, only to hear his mother's sounds of sexual intercourse grow louder. Cringing, he shut the door and went into the kitchen. Hungry as always, he opened the fridge, seeing a chocolate cake was inside. He licked his chops at the sight of the thick, sweet brown frosting that covered the pastry. Not even bothering with utensils, he picked up the tray and took it to his bedroom. With his bear paws, he grabbed as much as he could, shoveling it into this hungry gullet. All the kids at school may have hated him, and his mother was always busy pursuing her own pleasure, but food was the one thing in the obese tiger's life that gave him comfort, never judged or mocked him. It was his one friend.

Isaac was so busy stuffing his fat face that he didn't even notice that the sounds of his mother being taken by four beasts had stopped. His face was smeared with chocolate frosting when his mother suddenly entered his bedroom. A look of horror, then disgust showing on her face.

"What the hell do you think you're doin'?" she asked her son, seeing the cake was almost completely gone by this point. Isaac's face welled up with tears. He knew he was in for it now.

"I'm sorry, Mama!" he cried pathetically. "I was hungry!"

"You were hungry?" repeated his mother, Sarah. "I guess you think you're the only one in this house who needs to eat, don't you?"

Isaac sobbed, the tears rolling down into his chocolate frosting smeared face. "I'm sorry, Mama! Please don't hit me!"

"Oh, you're gonna get hit, boy!" screamed the tigress. "I can see you've got the devil in you, you gluttonous, reprobate little sinner!"

The young male tiger watched as his mother disappeared form his doorway, only to reappear a moment later. His blood turned to ice when he saw the extension chord in her paws. He cowered, knowing there was no way out of this.

"You get over here," demanded the tigress, her eyes burning with wrath.

Isaac shook his head, trembling with fear from the punishment he knew he was going to receive. His failure to obey his mother sent Sarah Burwell, promiscuous, cheating wife of the Reverend Jeremiah Burwell into a rage. She charged into her son's room, pushing the tiger to the ground as she pulled his shirt off. With all the strength she could muster, she sent the extension chord flailing onto the young tiger's back, tearing at his fur and flesh and making him howl in agony.

"You filthy little sinner!" screamed Sarah, bringing the chord down on his back again. "You honor your mother, you worthless little bastard!"'

The tiger screamed again and again, but it was all for naught. No one would be coming to his aid. He took lashing after lashing, feeling the flesh being ripped away from his back.

Isaac awoke suddenly, jumping up from the couch, he felt himself drenched in sweat from the horrible nightmare he'd just experienced. Breathing heavily, he ran into the bathroom, turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on his face over and over again, trying to calm himself down again. Eventually, he turned the water off. Grabbing a towel, he dried the fur on his face and looked deeply into the mirror, seeing the rage that was building up deep within himself once more. There was only one way to deal with that.

Putting his shoes on, the tiger left his apartment and got in his black SUV. Turning the key, he started it up and pulled out of the parking lot. By now darkness had fallen over the city, and the neon signs of night life were all around him. He drove down the busy streets, looking for a suitable destination. The city had no shortages of places where one could get a meal or simply take a load off by having a good stiff drink or ten. Isaac's eyes darted from the left to right side of the streets he went down, trying to find something that looked good to him. After half an hour of driving, he finally found "the one".

"Leinster's Irish Pub and Grill," said the tiger, reading the green neon sign outside the building. He parked along the sidewalk, already hearing the music blaring from within the building. He turned the key in his SUVs ignition, shutting off the engine. Getting out of the SUV, he made his way into the building.

The tiger took notice of the loud music being played inside the establishment, but unlike most bars, there was no rock or country music. In fitting with the restaurant's Irish theme, the house monitors were playing traditional Celtic music. Isaac looked around the darkened environment. Clearly the place was popular, as there was standing room only for the first twenty minutes he was there. Finally, a single table opened up and he was seated in the corner by himself. A waiter, a small wolf, came over and handed him a menu.

"Welcome to Leinster's Irish Pub and Grill," said the wolf. "Can I get you something to drink to start out?"

"Water with lemon," answered Isaac, looking through the numerous menu items of the establishment. "I'm gonna need some time to decide on food."

"Not a problem, sir," said the wolf, though when Isaac mentioned wanting water with lemon, the wolf seemed to give him a look that said "cheap motherfucker". Indifferent regarding the wolf's opinion of him, Isaac scanned up and down the menu, trying to find something that fit with his strict diet. Sighing, he put the menu down and looked around the place. Not surprisingly, the place had no shortage of loud, obnoxious drunks. It was after all Saturday night. Isaac scoffed, having never taken a sip of alcohol in his life, knowing what spirited beverages did to the body. The wolf finally brought him his water with lemon, and the tiger informed him that he was still going to need more time. On this occasion, the wolf wasn't able to hide his frustration as well and scowled nastily at Isaac. Normally Isaac would have stood up to such a creature, letting him know that his six foot five, heavily muscular frame wasn't at all afraid to kick the ever loving shit out of the much smaller wolf, but there was something more important going on at the moment. From across the room, a black female panther was looking at him, fluttering her eyelashes. Isaac grinned back at her, letting her know he was definitely interested. Completely forgetting about food, he watched as the fine lady panther strutted over to him, standing by his table. She smiled, her yellowish green eyes radiating sexual allure.

"Hi," said Isaac, still grinning.

"Hi," responded the panther.

"I'm Isaac," said the tiger. "What's your name?"

"Natasha," said the panther. "I don't recall seeing you in here before."

Isaac listened to the panther's voice, hearing a funny accent to it, perhaps Russian, Polish. Whatever nationality, it was definitely Eastern European. This only made her more exotic in his eyes.

"This is my first time," said Isaac. "You come here often?"

"Every weekend," said Natasha. "I don't often see guys as buff as you hanging around here."

Isaac managed a chuckle at the panther's obviousness. "Why, thank you, Natasha. I can't say that I often see ladies as lovely as you either."

The small wolf returned once more, and Isaac requested a chair be brought to his table. The waiter was also informed that whatever Natasha had to eat or drink be put on her tab. Almost instantly, the wolf's attitude changed, thinking that this would lead to a much bigger tip than he had originally anticipated. Natasha told Isaac that she had already put two drinks on her credit card and was about ready to leave before he showed up. The tiger offered to buy her whatever food or drink she found appetizing, but what she wanted wasn't on the menu.

"Isaac," she said, brushing her paw up against his. "Is there any chance you might want to come back to my place and . . . entertain me?"

The tiger gave her a warm, friendly grin. "I thought you'd never ask."

Getting up from the table, Isaac found the small wolf and told him that he was ready to pay. At first the wolf looked disappointed, but his countenance brightened when the tiger handed him a twenty dollar bill and told him to keep the change. Water with lemon was only $3.95.

Walking out the door, Natasha looked back at the tiger, fluttering her eyelashes at the male she just knew would give her the sexual ride of a lifetime. As the two got into the SUV, a single, solitary thought ran through Isaac's mind.

Number nine.