FSE

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Part One.

I woke up to the rain again this morning, shivering from the bitter cold of the east coasts early winter. The wind is blowing off the Atlantic and my refrigerator box is leaking. I pull my rotting blanket up to my chin, my breath coming out in plumes of frosty steam. Dogs bark in the south end of the old abandoned steel yard I call home, and finally the Pain of hunger is too much to take. Having slept in all the clothes I own I pull the blanket off and push it to the driest corner of my little box and reach behind for a nearly shredded tarp to pull over it. I wrap my arms around myself, shivering as I make my way to the soup kitchen for some hot food and coffee. I occasionally blow in to my paws and rub them together, warming them.

The line is long today, but it moves fast and feeds almost every one. It starts to rain a little harder so I pull the hood up on my dirty old raincoat. The others in the line are pale and glassy of eye, no spark of hope gleams within those rusty, dead depths. Most walk slack armed and zombified through the front doors one by one, and I pass through with them. There are some though, that have gotten in to the bad stuff. I am talking crack cocaine, Heroin and methamphetamine. Most of these people out here are veterans and when you combine narcotics with killing machines, even old and week killing machines you have a recipe for one hell of a time.

I make eye contact with Jimmy, and we nod to each other respectively. Standing there in the food line weighting for the volunteers to poor a chunky stew in to our little paper bowls.

"F-fuck you, you goddamn cock s-sucker!"

A loud voice shouts from behind me as I am shoved violently. Fortunately for me it was just before the shapely volunteer poured my food. There is a loud clatter as my body hits the thin metal food counter. My arms are forced out straight and I lose my balance falling to the floor.

"Stop please! I'll do anything you want just don't hurt my wife!"

I start to push myself up, and that's when I realize that there is someone screaming, and the pleading male voice was coming from right beside me. This is the point where my mind shifts into a faster gear and the rest of the world slows down. I look around the room taking in everything. I turn my head seeing the old wolf. Little multicolored balloons full of drugs falling out of his coat pocket and on to the filthy tile floor as he reached for his wife.

The female wolf is being pressed in to the table by a ,massivlty fucked up version of Bugs bunny, covered in tattoos and smelling of mold and urine. Then, there is the badger with a gun. It looks as if it is made from wood and old plumbing pipe and a rubber band. I had no doubt it would fire however and he had it pointed at the old wolf on the floor.

I pull the six inch knife from my boot, and in a blink I arch my arm back and throw, the knife lodging itself in the back of the gun man's hand. Even before the gun hits the floor I am on my feet and pulling a wrapped piece of jagged glass from the waistband of my raggedy cotton slacks.

"Hey Doc!"

I yell, slicing off one furry ear. He screamed and put his paws over the spurting stump of his once floppy ear. This distracted with pain for a few moments I turn to see the badger fumbling for his homemade nine with his left paw. The other one cradled to his chest bleeding all over his filthy green coat. Next to my foot is a chair laying on its side. I give it a hard kick with my foot and send it flying in to his face. He yells and teeth fly across the tile floor as he falls in a heap. One of the volunteers actually standing over him now and unloading an entire can of pepper spray into his mouth and face.

"Goddamn Motherfucker your gunna die now!"

A big meaty gray paw lands on my right shoulder and yanks me back. I drag the shard of glass across the knuckles and twist in to my rabid rabbit attacker's body delivering a swift knee to the groin. As my attacker doubles over in pain I bring the heel of my open palm up hard under his chin. Half of his thick tongue flies across the room and lands in some poor saps soup bowl.

Now screaming, and having blood pour from his mouth like a river, he falls backward hitting his head on the hard concrete floor. His screams fall instantly silent as his last breath flees his now quickly cooling corps. The room goes completely quiet. the sound of the skull cracking on the floor like a judge's gavel in a courtroom where the defendant just got the electric chair.

I curse under my breath

"Fucking goddamnit I killed the bastard!"

I stand there, All eyes on me. Everyone's mouths hanging open. All I can think is.

' I've got his blood on me! I've got his goddamn blood on me!'

I feel fingers touch mine, and i look down to see the old wolf holding his wife in one arm while touching my balled up fist, the glass shard still clutched tightly, dripping blood.

" Th-th-Thank you son."

All I could do is stare down at them. His wife sobbing uncontrollably as he touched my hand.

" I can't be here." Is all I managed to croak as I bolted out the door.