Night.
A time when everything slows down—silence ran on every corner with the chilly air blowing, but every night, strange things came and left.
Some leaving a bigger print or none at all.
Yet one particular part of a man's silhouette was ignored, if it had never been there.
Or maybe no one could see it at all, even though it stood in plain view. People walked past him—some leaving stores with bags, others entering different ones. Cars lined the street, lamp posts lighting the ground beneath them.
For the most part, it was qu-
"Hh'ktshh!"
A sneeze, some people looked his way, others not bothering to pay attention. He was an average person, his brownish white dog ears and tail barely inconspicuous, his canine ears barely poking out from the top of his beanie.
Fluffy ears that bounced with each step he took.
He didn't stand out much when other had Feline ears, some Perro ears, he was nothing special really.
Just another face.
"pinche mocoso, que no hay frío...liar!.."
Someone muttered, their breath forming a white cloud.
The inside of his pants buzzed, breaking his stride.
He pulled out his phone and turned it on, only to wince at the brightness. The sudden glare forced him to throw his head back, almost letting out an embarrassing sound. He quickly lowered the brightness as he unlocked the phone, pressing the messages icon and opening the most recent contact.
「You find them yet? 」
His fingers resting just above the phone when another message came in, this time with a photo of two people.
「Otra foto pa que sepas.」
Walking distracted, he nearly collided with someone. The stranger snapping at him with intensity.
"Mira dónde pisas, guey!"
He could only smile sheepishly, his feet keeping him moving.
Checking his map, he realized he was close to his mark. A bench sat empty nearby and he sat on it—pulling the phone back up.
It was a man who was wearing a cap atop his dark hair with a woman with purple hair at his side.
"Ah?"
He squinted at the photo, rubbing at a smudge on the screen where the top of their heads should have been. It wouldn't come off, no matter how much he rubbed.
"Did...they take a photo with shaky hands?"
He put his phone away, but not before another message came through—informing him the two were almost there. One hand began to throb faintly. He looked around the crowd when two people came into view.
The taller of the two had a hoodie on under a jacket, his face obscured by a cap with the woman linking their arm tightly.
The woman wore a scarf and a tan cardigan, her purple hair tied into a bun. He took a deep breath, his hands tingling, the sensation like countless critters crawling over his skin.
"I really shouldn't ignore this feeling..."
But it wouldn't be the first time he did.
But I still need food.
He watched them enter a store while the air grew harsher. Taking off his backpack, then setting it to his side, and unzipping it. His hands dug inside, pulling out a thicker jacket and quickly shoving his arms through the sleeves.
Inside laid his most prized possession.
It was folded up but it still took a large chunk of his space, big enough that the tip of it poked out from the top.
And yet again, people walked like it never existed—
Deeper in the bag, his fingers brushed against something small. He pulled it free, a bracelet. A red line of light ran around the middle, a white circle with a missing piece set in the center.
He slid it on when its screen dimly lit up, a singular bar nearly full. Behind him, voices murmured into the cold around them.
"Ma...es...n....ca...t....r."
The bar filled yet his patience slowly drained. The red line turning white—a slow breath escaping his lips when it was all done.
Damn thing...updating now of all times!.. I should really get a better one.
He grabbed a small bottle of pills from the bag, popped the cap, and tossed one back like candy. He leaned forward and covered his mouth.
Pulling out a water bottle and taking a swig.
Minutes dragged on, stretching into the longest wait of his life, until he finally saw the pair leave the building with bags in hand.
Oh finally...
He looked up at the two closest light posts near him, the bracelet light flickering on alongside a familiar chime—his figure obscured with soft shifting particles peeling off him. His eye's adjusting to a new height.
The street lights flickered back to life as a different person stepped off. Brown hair, round Mustela ears, and a different shaped backpack slung over a shoulder.
He stood up, waiting for the pair to put some distance between them before pulling out his phone, pretending to waste time.
This Mustela—Gutierre, opened his messages and begun typing.
Don't get to close...don't stare at them...
He walked across the sidewalk, and many more followed—the pair kept their pace without stopping.
Hhuuuhhh.
Gutierre squinted, looking down at the ground. Glancing at the empty display before shutting it off and sliding it into his pocket. His ears twitched when a gust of wind brushed against them.
Twenty minutes of absolutely nothing, how exciting.
He glanced back up and spotted them enter another store, a clothing store to be precise.
It was slightly large, judging by the windows, illuminating the sidewalk and the cars that passed by. He slowed down before pulling out his phone and opening the map, placing two fingers on the display to zoom in—watching the spiderweb of streets.
Main street here...some smaller ones branch out but its mostly just turns and corners. If I go up some more, They'll walk my way me, so we'll can go from there.
Gutierre continued walking for a handful of minutes, hearing the city still at work, his shoes leaving soft thud when a pedestrian light turned orange, pausing him.
He yawned—pressing the crosswalk button, waiting for the indicator to turn white.
They look like normal people to me. Why'd I have to come and follow them for? I mean, its not like I c—
Ding~!
He glanced up—the pedestrian light turning white, the countdown already ticking. He crossed quickly and turned left toward a nearby bench.
A tree dulled the glare from a nearby lamp post, just enough to spare his eyes. He stretched his legs and observed the people move through the street—some wandering, clearly heading somewhere.
"Busy as ever I see."
Gutierre looked at a large screen to his right, watching it switched to a news anchor—plastered on a building. The display featured a serious faced Coelhinho, his tall ears pointing upwards with a slight lean.
This person spoke with a tone full of certainty.
「Buenas noches, y Bienvenidos. Hoy al las once de la mañana, había dos personas que estaban conectado con el homicidio de un oficial—」
While he could not hear from the crashing waves of passing cars and people talking, reading the subtitles was a skill he possessed.
His nose flare with a snort.
Bah. Pura mierda. Always something.
Gutierre grabbed his phone and opened his contacts, scrolling past familiar icons until he stopped on someone.
Riiiing…
Riiiing…riiiiing…
"Holy shit, answer the phone." Gutierre sighed deeply, waiting for the person to answer. Seconds slipped into a minute, frustration settling in.
I hope i'm getting paid overtime for this, this one is the worst one yet. It has zero action at all.
Drawing a look toward the entrance, Gutierre stared at the storefront. He was about to stand up, only for another buzz to drag his attention away.
「Whatchu want.」
「Took you long enough, are you sure their still inside?」
It did not take much to get a response, it was a video.
「They're still inside, see?」
The display showed the store's interior from a corner, showing the pair walking up to the counter with a few things.
No wonder, they were buying clothes...but for a kid?
Ding~!
A notification slid across the top of his phone, pressing it—the video cut short.
「Their leaving, apúrale.」
Gutierre sent a thumbs up and pulled his backpack into his lap, fishing out a wrapped sandwich. He set his phone aside, unwrapping it with both hands, and taking a generous bite.
He scanned the storefront from the corner of his eye. A few seconds later, he spotted them near the entrance, standing still as the woman lifted her wrist to her mouth.
He grabbed his phone to check the time. The pair were now waiting for the pedestrian light to turn white.
Munch.
The woman hugged the man's arm tighter, speaking through her bracelet with a serious expression while they crossed the street. Gutierre took the last bite of his sandwich when the pair turned left.
Crunching the wrapper and tossing it at a nearby bin, he stood up after a few seconds.
Gutierre grabbed his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, then grabbing his phone.
Vamos a ver...this street has a curve and a smaller alley that should meet up a few blocks up ahead. bueno!
He put his phone away and looked up ahead, barely catching sight of the pair. He quickened his pace, trailing them until he reached an alleyway.
He quickly picked up his pace through the well-maintained alley.
Movie's always make this look worse than it is, trailing people isn't as suspenseful. The only good thing is the money and the perks it gives. Hubiera estudiado otra cosa.
His pacing slowed down to a crawl, shaking his head.
Chiiime~
Particles jumped off him, his appearance beginning to change again.
In less than a few seconds, his stature changed to a noticeable degree.
Even that did little to help—him, or rather her. Her steps remained heavy and wide. A shiver ran down her spine when someone opened a door nearby, nearly sending her into a panic.
She changed her pace, narrowing her steps into something softer, her stride shifting when a difficult expression marred her face.
I wanna kill myself! Fuckin' embarrassing, I said softer features...not a girl! No mames!
She exhaled through her nose, feeling a gaze on her back. The girl reached for her pocket and pulled out a phone.
She was only a few meters away from safety, opening her camera and making a face. A white flash illuminated the surroundings, casting her shadow on the ground.
Tchik!
The flash must've told em off right?
The girl looked over her shoulder, the person no longer staring intently at her.
Sighing again, her head dipped forward before bouncing back up, a little forced pep entering her step. At the corner, the streetlights burned bright, forcing her to raise a hand over her eyes.
She looked both directions, the pair still there—even if she could barely see their heads..
Thirty minutes of pure nothin. The most bored I've ever been.
Tzzzt~
The girl looked at her hand, the tingling making her cautious—the sensation running up her arm and across her spine.
The girl pulled her phone once more.
「Manda alguien. Don't like the feeling I'm getting.」
Looking back up—nothing. She could no longer them up ahead, her head spinning erratically in all directions, clutching her phone hard.
Fuck! I cant see em!
She took a deep breath before she did anything reckless, the roundish ears on her head twitching with each step.
「lost them...」
She lifted her gave back across the street as a thought passed through her, walking towards the curb before looking both way.
The girl quickly bolted crossed the street before the lights turned green, and a few seconds later—she got a response.
「...」
"Tch."
She shut the phone off, her steps growing heavier. She scanned the opposite sidewalk for them.
She drew her phone back up, opening her map with swiftness.
Hijo de—why'd they have to walk right fucking next to them!? I didn't bring any with me!
She almost tugged at her own hair, fighting the urge to scream in frustration. Her once soft steps turned heavy.
Her bracelet flickered—her eyes shutting tight for a second, and when they opened again, the world lurched—her vision dragged upward like being yanked by invisible hands.
She was above, looking at the street and crowds below. A sea of bodies flowing through the street. And there she was, a single figure fighting against the current, running through the crowds.
I hate the dizziness I get from this.
Her head churned while she searched from above, pedestrians blurring together into a single mass.
I cant look at them directly either, I do that and they'll know I'm looking at them.
She slowed down to a jog, taking a more methodical method, her eyes roamed throughout the street..
One minute turned into two, and those became five minutes of nothing. She paused all together to take several deep breaths, rubbing her arm befo—
Tzzzt~
Everything went black for a second. Her vision returning back, her head spinning hard enough to make her stop. She closed her eyes and grabbed onto anything within reach, holding herself upright.
I should really fix this thing...its making more problems than it did before.
The girl opened her phone and tapped the message at the top of her screen—an address paired with a picture of a store.
Her shoe scraped the sidewalk while she struggled to find the will to continue her pursue, knowing she would have to follow the pair towards there.
She clenched her teeth, scanning for a patch the streetlights didn't reach. Moving through the masses, she fired off a quick text to a certain someone.
She checked the map again, slipping towards a dimly lit patch of the street, the girl looked at the two nearest light post—
She stared at them until they buzzed and flickered, dimming just long enough for her figure to blur again—peeling into someone else. That alone however, did not stop people from staring at the obvious change.
This man however had a very rough appearance with an average build, his Mustela poking through his beanie with two cutouts. A sightly worn down jacket that made him look bigger than he was.
A gaiter placed around his neck along a pair of straight jean's with a few cuts and stains.
The grime around my face should blend me in, hopefully.
It was closer to what he'd worn at the very start, stripped-down and forgettable.
I hope.
Though only a few minutes had passed, the crowds had thinned to scattered pedestrians. The street had changed too—still clean, yet dotted with small piles of trash.
Low murmurs bounced around, figures slumped against the walls.
Twenty minutes. Too damn long. Who'd want to be alone here? I don't even want to get close to them.
He lifted his gaze. Blue and red lights flashed ahead, illuminating the street and bleeding across it.
Oh...wait...I didn't hear any sirens...
His eyes flickered around, finding a figure perched across the way, coughing several times.
He sounds alright...so...I'll use em as cover.
Nodding to himself, he approached the figure slumped on their side. The person let out a strained cough—"huh?"
He dropped down a few feet away, his back thumping against the wall.
"Ever heard of personal space..." A low tone, too weak to fight.
Gutierre casted a sideways glance when the figure spoke again..
"Even if we're both infected—cough!"
"—I don't want you so close to me...making me more sick by the...second! koff—koff—koff!"
"I don't either viejo, pero ocupo comida."
"Heahh...what are you talking about?..."
Gutierre responded while pulling his gaiter up over his mouth and nose. His posture relaxing, though his ears flicked at the faint wail of sirens creeping closer.
As the sirens got closer, Gutierre sent a quick text.
「CECOF's here...few cars too, here a picture.」
He snapped a few pictures and sent them off. A few seconds passed before a reply buzzed through.
「Thks, help will be running late...traffic hit hard for some reason.」
He felt like punching the person on the other side of the screen, closing his eyes in frustration. The backpack dug into his back, uncomfortable, but he didn't dare take it off while three blaring cars drew closer, sirens loud and bright.
Slowing down his breathing, slumping his head forward.
Brakes scream hard with the smell of burnt rubber permeated the air.
Gutierre heard doors open while a rough voice spoke, boots slamming against the pavement.
"Check em, find what you can."
He fought the urge to move, the footsteps of several people closing in, reverberating through his skull. A poke struck his shoulder, followed by a sharp smack to the side of his head.
'...'
"This ones out."
He could feel their presence closing in when another voice spoke, softer than the rest.
"This one is awake, grab the dirty fuck."
He could hear the sounds of struggle, a loud thud followed suit.
"Let...go! Fucking pendijos—HEY!..Dont touch my shit—"
A loud smack rang across the street, his scream ripping through the air. Curses flew while one of them searched through his things.
"Speak old man, I'd rather not put my hands on you dirty folks." He voice full of distain.
"Wha—"
BZZZZHHHhhht!
Gutierre almost twitched
"Well fuck. Oi, grab your shit! Ándale! You two stay and make sure no one comes close."
The one barking orders was a Feline, short light beige ears and a striped tail.
fwmp—scatter.
"Ey!—" The head of the group turned with a questioning look. "— Que hacemos con este viejo?"
The short feline clicked his mouth before speaking. "Don't care, es solo uno nomas. Its just an infected like every other poor fuck here."
phweee!
A whistle, catching their attention.
"Leave one alive yeah?"
"Orale."
Gutierre stayed put while the old man coughed quietly. The group of seven moved on, leaving two behind.
"Ohh...what's this?"
One of them said in a teasing tone before snickering. The old man looked up and saw a worn down photograph, before the old man could say anything—
BANG!
The last thing he saw were the faces in that photo. His head dropped down, hitting the ground straight down.
OH...its a gun gun...
The Perro gave the Feline who shot the old man a skeptical look, then spoke after a moment of contemplation. "You're not doing what I thi—"
Their conversation was cut short by the sounds of a fight rattling the street. They looked at each other when both of their radios buzzed to life.
〈Oi! One of you come! Two are down...〉
The Feline glanced down at his firearm before pointing it at the Perro, feigning surprise like it meant nothing. The Perro, however, stayed deadpan. He moved to a nearby car, grabbed his gear, and sprinted toward the group—shooting the Feline one last look before he went.
"Tch, now I'm here alone." The feline put his pistol away, sighing as he turned his back toward the others. "I'll just cuff him, in case he wakes up. Yeah."
The Feline walked up to Gutierre and pulled him to his side to put the cuffs on.
jingle—clnk!
Snapping his eyes open, he planted a palm on the concrete, kicking off the ground—driving his boot at the uniformed man's knee.
"Fu—"
The feline jumped back quickly, raising an open palm toward the Mustela caught in his crosshairs. Gutierre didn't hesitate. Using his hands to drive himself forward, he hauled the old man's corpse up with both arms and shoved it ahead of him like a shield.
ZHHHhhht!
A searing flash lit the alley, frying his vision white. The body jolted violently, convulsing while he let it go, the stink of burnt flesh hitting his nose. He shoved harder, forcing the corpse into the Feline's space as sparks hissed off the charred cloth.
His ears rang. His hands buzzing from the shock. He cursed, tearing the knife from beneath his jacket and sprinting forward.
The Feline's hand came up, clutching a cluster of rectangular pieces bound together, a small ornament swinging from it.
Gutierre felt his chest grow heavy, his knees bending under an invisible weight. His bracelet flared wildly while he brought his right arm up near his head, only to be shoved to the side—his eyes locking with the Feline's.
His eyes snapped to where he'd been standing. A rhombus, a circle, and a mess of overlapping patterns hung in the air, then vanished.
Bangs rang out alongside the sounds of fighting, neither of them looking away. Gutierre hurled his knife at the Feline, then jumped left when his body burst apart into particles.
The man's tan-dotted ears twitched. He turned toward one of the cars and leveled his stave at it. A series of patterns flared into existence beside the vehicle.
Then the vehicle lurched, screeching wheel while it skidded sideways .
"Tu puta madre!"
Gutierre's voice cracked from the haze.
A barely noticeable puff of dust flew up from the ground—
"Enough!"
KRRZZAAAKK!
Bolts of light slammed into the ground from wherever, cracking the pavement with heat licking the air. The Feline clenched his stave tighter before slamming his heel into the ground. A pulse rippled outward from him.
ping!
He snapped his stave to the right. The strike converged on a storefront, the ground splitting into an uneven trail. He didn't hesitate, yanking his handgun free and firing into a small area.
THUD!
He was about to shoot again—
"Timeout!"
A figure flickered in and out, stuttering like bad static. Then becoming solid—Gutierre, hunched on one knee while holding his stomach, coughing as he dragged himself somewhere.
Pressure bore down on him, crushing his back, his limbs barely holding his up.
The feline stalked forward away a few feet, displeasure carved across his face, his short stave pointed lower and lower. Gutierre couldn't move any direction other than down.
"What… are… you waitin' for…" He forced a chuckle, coughing wet "…heh… agh…"
〈...〉
Static could be heard before a voice full of anger and frustration spoke.
〈They got away...we're done here.〉
The Feline let out a snort. Gutierre grinned, the last thing he saw the stave whipping toward his head.
"Fucking dog."
The Feline crouched, searching the Perro's pockets before finding a phone, its screen partly cracked when he turned it on. He pressed something, and a message flashed briefly on the display.
Footsteps scraped together, straightening himself and turning to face the approaching figures.
"Where's the....rest?"
Smirking when he saw his battered comrades. The injured one waved weakly, slumped over a shoulder.
The shortest stepped forward. "One dead. One critical. You can see the rest."
His chin tipped toward Gutierre's body. "So…who is this?"
The feline glanced down, giving the Perro a light kick. "A nobody. Had buddies on the way. Told him to hold out."
"Let's go. we'll block of the road up ahead..." The leader's gaze cut across them before he limped off, favoring his right leg, heading for the cruisers.