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Bloody Knuckle

[-Sore and Busted-]

Me and Big Burger were watchin' Chief through the jail cell bars at the city police station. He was on his phone, makin' the world work in ways I didn't always understand. He paced, occasionally weaving through officers that passed my. He wasn't happy. And that made me cringe. I dropped my head and looked over at the other person in the slam with us: a panther. He had his head wrapped in bandages, some were stained red. I forgot my shame long enough to remember how this shit got started.

-Last Night-

Cut-flank shoved me against a wall in the bar's bathroom. It was a pretty run-down place, so expect it to be dirty as fuck, but not smell bad. There was a lone urinal next to the main stall, where we would do our dirty stuff. He had been teasin me all week. And I haven't had the time to handle my "personal business". I was horned up, ready and sore. And after a while I stopped hiding it. If he gave me a boner, I'd keep it. If he groped me on the sly, I'd grind against his hand.

But at the same time, I hated how he was so...sure I was his and all that shit. But whatever. He leaned down and shoved me into his abs, which I caught him in a hug and strangled his sides. I opened my jaws and bit him a little bit. He jumped, but moaned a manly moan as he let his wreckers bump the front of my thighs. We grunted and rubbed each other as my borderline-critical dick throbbed powerfully. Beef pot laughed and moaned a bit as I thrusted into his leg, his jeans the only thing between us: I LONG since dropped my shorts.

I growled and spun him against the wall, and Hot Pot slid to the floor, wagging his tongue around, waiting to give me what I was so terribly in need of. My dick drooled pre like I was, losing myself to lustful instinct. He grinned, even as I growled, even as I gripped his fauxhawk.

"Alright Knucky. I'll get right on it."

I thrust my dick forward, but he dipped out of the way just in time to catch my own fuzzy hangers in his mouth. I hissed. His flat teeth caught me in a few places, and his tongue was a little too eager. It hurt a bit, but I liked it a little rough. He tugged and sucked, loosening up my tubes so I'd fire at my best. -I can take it, I can take it!- Right when I couldn't any more, he let them drop from his mouth. I panted against his shoulder and he rubbed my back slowly. I looked at him, and he met my gaze with that damn grin. He wiped his mouth, and messed with his zipper so he could let his dick loose. He slid his thumbs into his waistband and got bis boxer briefs too. He shuffled them down a bit, and he went a bit limp as I swung my bushy broom tail at it. I sank my knees under his armpits, and reintroduced my dick to his mouth. And it went from there. I wasn't in the mood to burn through this, not now.

I placed a bent arm against the wall and humped into Butcher Select's mouth. I sighed, and he chuckled as I churned his throat. I hugged his head to my crotch and anjoyed the feeling of something on my shaft. I could feel him beatin off behind me, my actions hot enough for the guy to warrant a mess. He caught most of mine in his mouth, all of it if he was skilled. But HIM... Steaksauce stains. It's runny. And it stinks. -Get it how you can, man...- I thought. He changed his pressure and I was sucked forward. I waved my hand like a cowboy, fuckin this Spit-roast's mouth hard enough to make his head knock the wall behind him. He mumbled something with my dick in his mouth, and my ears stood as I heard the door open. We didn't bother closing the stall door. Fuckin stupid of us...

A panther in sweat pants and a tank top staggered to the open door, ignoring the urinal. I guess he had to take a shit or sumthin. But he stumbled right through the stall door and stared at us, meeting both of our eyes. I guess he wasn't that drunk, because he sneered before he took a second look at us.

"Fuckin' queers... Ronson??" By that time I had disengaged and placed a foot on top of Ronson's head and vaulted towards the bastard, pulling my shorts up as I went. He froze and I smashed the top of his muzzle with a heavy-handed slug. I felt bone structure break as he staggered, and I landed and launched a shoulder at his chest, throwing him back out of the restroom. And away he went, crashing into a nearby pool table. I growled, that was enough to kill my bone and make my blood boil.

"Aww, shit Knuckle!" Big Kahuna burger gasped. I overreacted, I know. But fuck!

"He knew you. You know him?" Stew-beef finished zipping up before giving an explanation.

"THAT was the guy that my old manager replaced me with. Fuuuuck..." I looked at the door, waiting for the guy to come back all balls, but I knew he wouldn't. I laughed on the inside; this guy was a chewed-up chump. Never had a chance.

"And who was he supposed to fight with that shit, flies and bees?"

***** Present day, jail*****

Chief was cussin' someone out.

"Well they're damn lucky he didn't kill him! I-... I understand, but the fucker had it comin' from what it sounds like. He-... I see, but he-... Dammit, I'm talkin'! If I was THERE and HEARD HIM say that shit, I would've loosed him my damn self! I-... Right. But he's-... No, he's not just some fuckin' brute! If I hear you talk about my Champ that way again, I'll send him to meet you, so you can say it to his fuckin' face!" Chief hung up and fumed. He rubbed his forehead, and a bear in a police uniform met with him.

"It's a good thing you had enough to post bail for those two. I was lookin forward to the next fight." the bear said to Chief. I guess he was a dirty cop or sumthin. Chief looked a bit suspiciously at him, but shrugged. The bear looked through the bars at the two of us.

"You two are free to go. YOU stay; your manager couldn't drop a big enough stack to get you out." The panther looked shocked as he heard the words. The cop opened the door, and Chief walked in to face us.

"You two really couldn't wait?! Of all the fucking places, you chose a BATHROOM in a BAR??" I hung my head as his words had actual impact. He was right, I should've...

"Ronson, I know you egged him on." Steak frowned, but he knew he couldn't say anything.

" YOU... Knuckle, look at me." I raised my head to meet his gaze: he was red faced and...mad at me.

"Bad." His words smashed my head back down, and I cringed.

"Let's go. BOTH of you are due to fight soon." He turned and walked away, stopping to look over his shoulder.

"Let's go!" We stood up and followed him out, and he was silent. And it was the longest march of my life... We made it back to the van, and Angus got in the bigger part of the vehicle. I got shotgun. Chief drove. And again, this ride took forever. We were all silent; passing under stop lights, driving under bridges and overpasses, and even when we met with the security guard to get back into our parking garage.

We got out and piled into the elevator that took us straight to the gym. Chief crossed his arms as he got in one corner. I followed, not even looking at his reflection. I felt like shit. Chuck stood in the center, and ever so often he'd glance in my direction.

"I can't fucking believe this." Chief mumbled, and the words slit my throat. I swallowed my shame away, and while I wanted to beg and whine for his forgiveness, I knew he wouldn't have it untill he was sure he'd made me sorry.

The elevator arrived with a ding, the gym was the only place we were going to be. There was a fight in three days, and we needed the training between now and then. We all stepped out, and Chief started with what I figured out was our punishments.

"Ronson. Go to bed. Knuckle will wake you when it's your turn to train. You two WON'T be sleeping together, you two WILL NOT be showering together. Knuckle, follow me." Steak's mouth fell open; part of his motivation was handling me after I was good and pent up from a long day of hard work.

"Chief, c'mon!" he protested, but he saw that he wasn't getting any ground. He turned his back and slumped his shoulders as he mumbled something and trudged away.

"You, my little horndog, are gonna show me how bad you want your next nut." My ears fell in shock.

"The weight bench. Go." I took a defeated ste-

"GO!" Chief barked. And I was there, slamming my back down on it so hard it shook. He picked two fifty-pounders and set them on the bar. He fastened the weight-brakes, and stood behind me as my spotter.

"Get started, fifty reps."

Six hours later

I was a mess. I was sore; it was always the lighter weights that tired you out fastest. But I couldn't worry about my arms, it was Chief himself that was the really tortuous part. As my spotter, he had to reset and switch weights. And for the time I was pumping the iron, he was soaked in his scent, a scent I forbade myself from keying in on. Oh man, he was soaking in doggy musk. I was losing myself on the high that stud was- I slapped myself, and hard too.

"Focus." he said as I reeled from the sharp blow, whimpering on the inside. I slowly knocked out another few reps, and I could see the outline of his- I punched myself in the face. I could see Chief wasn't smiling.

"Knuck, if it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have found this for us. We made our lives something to be remembered, envied..." I knocked out more sets as I forced myself away from those thoughts, a place in my mind he was never to be a part of. His voice was drowned out as he was starting to get to me...

My muscles groaned. My palms were so sweaty I was losing my grip on the bar. I hit another few and my grip slipped, but Chief stepped over my face to catch it. I could see up his shorts, and I gulped. Wow, the guy's got som- I sat straight up, flushing the idea from my head, but knocking the bar out of Chief's hands. We both dropped the bar and it landed on my chest, smashing me back to the bench. I layed there dizzy, with little Chiefs fluttering around my mouth with equally small wings and boxing gloves. I took a bit to catch my breath, and Chief slowly hefted the weights off me. He set the bar back on the rack by himself, and he stared at me sternly.

"What the hell is going through your mind?!" he barked at me. He walked away a bit, shaking his head as he stopped.

"Go wake up Ronson" he ordered, and I hung my head in shame as I got off the bench. I walked off a bit, and I turned to look at him. He had his back turned still, and I kept walking.

It took me a bit to get to Jack Link's room, and I found him already awake. He was sitting up in his bed, and he looked at me. He took on a worried face, as I guess I didn't know how bad I actually looked.

"Your turn." I said simply. He got out and stood up, stretching a bit as I walked past him to crash for the day. I stopped when he put a hand on my back.

"Are you okay?" he asked me, his voice the same but... a little concerned. I nodded but didn't answer him. He rubbed my back softly before he left.

I crawled into bed, my mind thrashed. But I was thankful for the workout. I closed my eyes.

Two days later, Fight Night

Chief walked out with Jerky nugget and I to the ring. We had our badass on that night, with my favorite pair of THE MIGHTIEST brand shorts on. There were camera flashes, the spectators were cheering like mad. But it was silent, soundless. Rare got there first and held the rope open for me, and I climbed through quickly. I stamped one rope down, held the other up high, and with my free hand grabbed his and helped him through. He got through with little trouble. Man, that training seemed to be doin the trick!

The ref was in the center of the ring, with nothing but a mic and his pinky finger was as far out as it could go while still attached to his hand. The audience calmed down as our opponents climbed into the ring. A ... boar (oink!), and a hyena (I bet he tells terrible jokes). They got back to back with their arms crossed, and a few cameras flashed. The two of us chuckled under our breath and boo'd them before I jumped a bit to my right and threw a right hook that Big Patty stopped with one of his own. We held that pose perfectly still as we were blasted with flashes from all over. The audience loved us. The ref smiled at us before putting the mic to his mouth.

"WE GOT A SHOW TONIGHT, FOLKS!" he said with great pride as the audience went crazy.

"FOR THE FIRST TIME, TWO CHALLENGERS TAKE ON RONSON AND KNUCKLE FOR THE TEAM BELT, AND TITLE! THE FUR'S GONNA FLY!" The audience went batshit with the cheering. Me, Beef tip, and the other two walked to the center and bumped fists before we went to our corners. We had our juices pumping already, but I froze when a fox in a black suit entered the ring and spoke to the ref. The ref shook his head like he had ants in his hair before looking at us. He said something to the fox, and the fox pulled out a piece of paper. Ref looked it over, looked at the two of us, and the fox shrugged. Then the ref put his mic to his mouth, and said something that made my blood freeze.

"Well, folks... We have some terrible news." The audience quieted down.

"It seems like there's been some foul play afoot, and with great disappointment I'm here to tell you that our Champ and his new teammate have been irrevocably disqualified from tonight's match." The audience's disappointment was so loud and clear it made my guts twist. I stomped towards the ref, confused and fuming. I grabbed his shoulder, demanding an explanation.

"What the fuck is goin on guy?! We're disqualified?!" He looked at me, surprisingly disappointed.

"Look, Knuckle, I've seen you do some truly crazy shit in this ring. But rules are rules, and I can't abide the use of drugs and steroids." My mind halted.

"Dr-Fuckin' DRUGS? Do Ah look like Ah'm on drugs to you?!" He shook his head, and looked behind me.

"Not you, him. He's been reported using cocaine. Someone dropped a tip to the booky's table." I bared my fangs as I got so hot my piss began to boil.

"Well... Fuckin' disqualify HIM! AH'LL take these two on my damn self! Ah'll win the fuckin' title!" He shook his head.

"While I know you could, and I'd love to see, its a TAG MATCH. You can't fight without a partner." I turned and looked at the spoiled beef behind me. He looked back and shrugged, and I was there in a flash.

"The fuck you doin usin coke?!" He looked at me like I stabbed myself in the face.

"Knucky, I've been with you and Chief. And nowhere else. You KNOW I'm not fuckin' lying to ya." I calmed down a bit; I knew he was right. I shook my head and looked out of the ring to see what Chief wa-

"Where's Chief?" I asked.

"BANGBANGBANGBANGBANG!!!" I dropped, Teriyaki braced himself as everyone heard gunshots. The audience dispersed like ants for the exits, and I...

I landed on the floor in a crouch. I heard the gunshots ring out from the long hallway that led from the nearby gym. My heart raced as I made it there in no time, and I hoisted the garage door like it was nothing. I ducked under it and saw the most terrifying sight I could ever see.

Chief was lying face down in a pool of blood. His blood. It looked bad. I reeled back, the sight of my... my best friend, my master like this stole every ounce of my strength. I took a few shaky steps back with my eyes wide, and slid to the floor on the wall across.

"R-ron..." My voice was caught in my throat like it was a ball of barbed wire.

"Ron...RON..." I swallowed.

"RONSON! HELP, FUCKIN SOMEBODY!"

It didn't take long for him to get there, and he took a few terrified seconds to process what he saw.

"Knuckle, stand up!" Ronson shouted at me. I couldn't move. He grabbed my shoulders and looked me in the eyes.

"KNUCKLE!" I was falling apart in his hands, and when I didn't respond he slapped me.

"Knuckle, you have to get up! Chief needs y-" We both looked down the hallway when we heard a door slam. I didn't see anyone else when I got here. What if... I took a step up on shaking legs, and Ronson helped steady me.

"Knuckle, if that was the sound of the guy that did this getting away, would you ever be able to ask Chief to forgive you? You're his dog! FUCKIN ATTACK!" I flattened my ears as not only did Ronson talk real sense into me, that idea made me furious.

"GO! I'll help Chief!" And I was off. My claws dug into bare concrete as I ran like I wanted to catch fire. I remembered the nearest doors I could use, which ones made which sounds, where each door led. I also remembered that there were no shells, so the fucker took them with him. I remembered the bare slam of the door, how it sounded. It could've been two doors; one led upstairs, but the only person to choose to hide in a building when he had fuckin HELL after him would be a fuckin idiot. I passed a bunch of doors down a few hallways, knowing exactly where I was, exactly where I was headed. I heard another door slam. I was close. Chief's training carried me well past my old limits, and I kept his last memories in my mind as I charged for the last door. I didn't bother trying to open it, I just jumped right through the glass and landed in a roll. I was cut a few times, but not badly. I heard a car start. Shit! I ran after it, and I rounded a corner the trail of suddenly squealing tires told my ears of. I saw the car! I took off, my lungs at this point began to hit their limits, but it would be alright. I wasn't quittin, not when Chief needed me the most. With my feet bleeding from running so hard, I was a hand's length away from the bumper....and the car left me behind. I...

*****

Ronson found me sitting in a neaby alley about an hour later. He pulled up in his truck, a huge red vehicle with a pair in the back bigger than his. He didn't say anything, but he opened the passenger's side door. I got in with a limping stride, and we drove to the hospital where I was inwardly relieved to hear Chief had stabilized. The ride was silent, just..just like when...

I smashed my fist into the dash in front of me, and heaved as my eyes hurt with a familiar but distant feeling. I sat there in silence while Ronson drove, and my throat tightened up. I whimpered once, and then the dam broke with my guilt behind it. Chief was on the verge of death, and I couldn't even get even for him... I felt Ronson pat me on the back softly.

"Take it easy. We're almost there."

We arrived shortly after, and circled the parking lot for a couple of parking spaces side by side so he could park. He backed in smoothly, his reverse signal loud and sharp. He opened his door and stepped out. I sat there numb, my mind..quiet as he opened my door.

Ronson started to say something but didn't. He stuck a hand out for me. I turned and tried to jump down, but my paws weren't hearin it. I stumbled a bit and Ronson caught me.

"Hey! ..We might get you looked at too." He took his time with me, matching my pace as we trudged a long way to the entrance. We met with the receptionist, a blonde cat with glasses. Ronson did all the talking, and we found that Chief was in ICU, doctors had to be called in from across the state for him. I was glad; everyone could see his value, no one wanted to see such a good guy fall.

Some negotiation on Ronson's part allowed us brief visitation rights.

The receptionist showed us the way to his room, and my heart sank when I saw him through the glass part of the door. He was attached to all sorts of machines, one for his breathing another for his heart... The whole scene looked awful. An on-call doctor told us that most of the bullets were removed, but one was dangerously close to his heart and it suffered for it. Another set of specialists were on the way for that procedure.

I looked at Ronson and he nodded. I opened the door and pulled up a chair, close to his side before sitting, and I leaned in close, looking him over. I rested my head by one of his hands, and I fought my tears back. I sat still for a bit, and I felt a... Hand on my neck, rubbing softly.

"Good...job Knuck..." Chief's paw trembled. He shook a little. His heart monitor beeped two more times, and then he was gone. I buried my face in his blanket as a fury I never knew before boiled my insides, my heart shattered along with it.

He was pronounced dead at 3:27 am.

-Later That Morning-

Things were fuckin awful... I..don't remember much of what happened after Chief died, or when. But it reflected through me. We didn't keep alcohol around, but I bought a couple of twelve-packs of beer. I know that much. I drank till I puked. I drank more. Ronson cleaned me up, and carried me to bed. I puked on his legs. I was so drunk I was practically blind.

Ronson layed me down with a trash can next to me. He was pretty worn out, too.

"Hey Knucky... I'm sorry." I socked him in the face weakly. He looked down. No play time tonight.. But I think he just..wanted me to... I sniffed. Things were different now. I had to take care of myself in a different way. Chief..Chief wouldn't want me to..

Ronson grabbed one of my hands and held it. I sniffed.

"Go ahead Knuckle. Don't deny him that." Ronson said as a wave of sadness washed me down, and I heaved. Ronson tugged me close and I let it all go. Tears ran down my face as I whimpered my tribute to my friend, my boss, my master. Ronson sniffed a couple of times too; he did wonders for the both of us.

"Its okay Knucky... Its okay.. He's better now." he said as he gripped my shoulder.

He kissed my forehead, and the morning passed.