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Chapter 2: Heathens

All my friends are heathens, take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don't make any sudden moves
You don't know the half of the abuse

“Oi Nick, wake up we're here.” A voice called out from the darkness “C'mon, wake up you bum.”

Giving a faint groan, the fox opened one of his eyes as he saw a very displeased Finnick nudging him with his little palm. Turning his head, Nick saw that indeed the fennec was telling the truth, the van was parked right infront of Nick's place, which was a six floor apartment building with the rain still pouring, but not as heavily as it started.

“C'mon, get out you idgit, I got places to be.” Finnick said, giving Nick another push and faint punch in the shoulder.

Sighing, the fox stretched out as he climbed out of the van and then turned to towards Finnick, who raised his eyebrow at his vulpine companion.

“What is it this time?” Finnick asked, staring daggers at Nick who spread his hands.

“Gonna give daddy a hug?” The fox asked innocently, but in return got a door slammed in his face followed by getting splashed from face to toe with rain water.

Exhailing, Nick tossed away his wet smoke as he made his way towards a five story apartment building. The place defiantly didn't look high class, infact it was close to looking like a dump which was weird why a place of such caliber would reside in downtown part of Zootopia, however there was a reason this place wasn't torn down and why Nick resided here, and it wasn't for it being cheap. Well, okay the cheapness was one of those factors, but the second factor was because of the “colorful” history this place had, which made it a perfect catalyst for gathering spiritual energy.

Originally this was a place was a mental institute and hospital during the 1st great war, however one night one of the nurses went somewhat mad and went on a killing rampage. Later it was rebuild into a movie theater, however even that was short lived as during the premier of one massive blockbuster the theater caught fire and everyone got trapped and burned alive. Eventually, after the rubble was cleared the apartment building was put in it’s place, sadly the building wasn't saved from the curse of this location.

For example during the grand opening, a chandelier fell on the head foremen, crushing the poor bastard in the paste, a week later on the fifth floor a nobody writer ended up writing a strange manuscript, with claims he was possessed by demons, after some of his friends read it the poor bastards tore out their own eyes while the writer used their skin to create the cover for the book. Another example was a family that moved in to a flat on the fourth floor, and just vanished. Nobody heard from them for days and when they finally opened their apartment, there was no trace, however anytime anyone else stayed they claimed how they heard voices or objects moving and whenever someone passed by the door they heard rapid banging and more voices screaming to let them out.

Later on, the company became desperate enough to hire some priests in hopes of purging whatever evil was inside their precious building. Fat load of good that did, the first priest went mad just after stepping inside and nearly tore out his own throat out, the second lasted an hour and half before he was found hung in the bathroom on the fourth floor, with the walls covered in his blood speaking of various confessions of the bad deeds he committed. There were plans to shut down the place, but those never happened as the building kept standing with a few people deciding to live to try their luck and Nick being one of them. Stepping inside, the fox shook off some rain off himself, looking around the foyer, he then waved at Balloo who was busy watching his TV and not even paying much attention to the vulpine. Giving a faint smirk, Nick made his way towards the stairs and went down into the basement part of the house, it was an odd choice for someone to choose as their flat, but Nick considered it a good choice for himself.

So, who exactly was Nicholas Wilde? Well, to an everyday person he may have seemed like a small bit crook or swindler, and they wouldn't be wrong. Though, that was what Nick was on the surface, on the inside the fox was special in a sense that he saw the other side of the world and Zootopia and all of its secrets and in a way was among the small rank of animals who were fighting every dark creature that lurked in the night. Not many would believe those stories, but it was thanks to people like Nicholas that the world and reality itself was still standing, however such victories came with various prices. Nick paid plenty of 'em and was probably in a deep debt.

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Opening the door, the fox stepped inside the large room and flicked the lights on, his eyes seeing a ton of furniture that seemed way to huge for someone of his body build and height, apparently all this belonged to another tenant who stayed in this cursed place. However when he..erm...”moved” away, Nick decided to buy the furniture since it would work perfectly for sleeping and storing his stuff. Tossing the coat on the nearest chair, Nick made his way towards a nearby sound system and turned it to a random music station, after which he made towards a small globe which he popped open seeing a good selection of spirits. Smiling the fox then grabbed a bottle of whiskey as he studied it carefully.

“So that's where you keep the booze...” A voice suddenly spoke, nearly making Nick drop the bottle.

Cursing under his breath, fox looked back and saw a figure sitting in one of his chairs. The figure in question was a male raccoon around twenty four years old, wearing a somewhat messy suit with a coat, his hair being also a badly kept mess while a pair of black shades obscured his eyes.

“Tyriel, why the fucks are you here and how did you get in here?” Nick said, looking at the closed door, then back at the raccoon. “I had this place protected against your ilk.”

“ Dunno where ya got those “protection” spells from Nicky, but they aren't worth squat.” Tyriel replied as he got up and approached Nick “So, gonna share?”

“Humph, I thought angels don't drink.” Nick muttered, opening the bottle.

“We also don't have halos and don't play harps. C'mon Nick, I had a shitty day.” The raccoon whined, making Nick roll his eyes in frustration as he poured two full glasses “Cheers~”

Looking at the raccoon, Nick tilted his head to the side. For as long as he knew Tyriel, he never came across as an angel or at least not what one would assume an angel to be. He drank a lot, swore like a sailor, got into fights and even gambled, with a few occasions Nick had to bail him out because the dumb angel would get into huge debts to his addiction to gambling. Then again, Tyriel did save his bacon on numerous occasions, so the angel did have his good side

“So, what brings you here this time? Another gambling debt or gonna sell me more fake artifacts?” Nick asked, raising his eyebrow while Tyriel looked away.

“Dude, I said I was sorry for that. I actually thought it was the real deal!” Tyriel exclaimed then sighed rubbing his temple “Anyway, I’m here about two things. First, I was told that you sent three demons back to hell without permission.”

“Yeah, because you bastards do jack shit about it” Nick said, narrowing his eyes at the raccoon “Seriously, have you even seen what they did in that neighborhood?!”

Sighing, Tyriel finished his glass as he looked at Nick like a teacher looks at some toddler.

“Nicholas, you know there are rules and the balance….” Tyriel began but was silenced by a glare from Nick.

Ever since Nick had his meeting with the angels and this whole talk about “balances” and so forth, bringing up that topic was pretty much an excuse for the fox to go on a huge ass rant how the angels aren’t nothing but high and mighty hypocrites that wanna wave their dicks around, while doing nothing to justify their “divine” status. So, Tyriel already knew that he was asking for another such rant, even though he somewhat agreed with Nick and that the entire thing was bullshit.

Softening his gaze, Nick downed his drink and poured himself and Tyriel another glass. The room then was drowned in some awkward silence, as the two silently sipped their spirits, until Nick finally spoke out.

“And the second thing?” He asked, looking at raccoon with a tilted head. Blinking, the angel then produced a newspaper which showed an article about another ritualistic murder, which also had a photo of Judy Hopps as the best assigned officer for said case.

“Tch….Tyriel, I don’t do murders, ya know that.” Nick muttered, pulling out a fresh cig and was about to give himself a light, but then was introduced to a flame that was held on Tyriels index finger.

“This doesn’t seem like your typical murder, Nicky. More occult related stuff, something that should be up your alley” Tyriel murmured.

“Don’t we have the cops for that?” Nick asked, puffing out a cloud of smoke as he studied the newspaper “Hrm…Seems like standard stuff…”

“Humph, that’s what you said about that pizza joint last time.” Tyriel said, getting a glare from Nick “Or that other time in the movie theater….”

“Fine, fine!” Nick exclaimed, throwing his hands as he looked at the newspaper again “But I swear if this is a wild goose chase…”

Looking back, Nick saw that his angel friend was long gone, leaving the empty glass on the table. Sighing, the fox mentally cursed Tyriel and his stupid batman like style of vanishing. Studying the paper again, Nick took a puff of his smoke; he did hear the news talk about a few similar styled murders but so far no connection was established between the four victims, now it seems they had a fifth. The papers believed it was a work of some cult, the cops claimed the killers were just stealing organs to sell ‘em on the black market. Nick on the other hand didn’t really give a shit, both sides could believe whatever they wanted; it wasn’t any of his business. Fuck Tyriel and his noisy bullshit of trying to put Nick on the “right path” or whatever excuse he made so the fox would go out of his way and save someone’s ass. Sighing a little, Nick made his way towards the arm chair and dropped in it, his gaze directed towards closed door, the music playing somewhere in the distance almost like a faint melody echoing in a vast chamber or some long tunnel. Taking a puff from his cig again, from the corner of his eye Nick spotted specters coming from the darkest corners of his room, which made the fox exhale a little bit. Another sip from his glass, as the specters began to surround Nick, all of ‘em eyeing him with icy-blue eyes, as he gave a somewhat tired sigh. Every time he was left alone, they would be around him always being silent and staring down at him. All he could do is wait for them to come and give him the same silent stare.

“Tch….What you expect me to take this task?” Nick asked, staring at the figures, who didn’t respond “What do I look like? Your personal fixer or some shit?!”

Silence fell once again, as the figures just kept staring down at Nick. Giving a frustrated groan, the fox finished his drink and then got up and made his way towards the door. Stopping, he then looked back at the figures.

“You guys aren’t gonna give me any peace no matter how many “good deeds” I do, right?” He asked, still getting just silence “Tch…I thought so…”

And with a strong slam, the room was drenched in darkness once more.