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Soft snores came from Rybecca's slightly parted maw as she slept, none of the anxiety and stress that plagued her during the day apparent on her face. She had gotten home from a stressful day at work and crashed, making a quick cucumber salad and collapsing in bed, leaving everything all a mess to be cleaned up the next day: counters, knives left out, little shavings of cucumber... Work had sapped too much out of her for any care to be present in her mind. The bed she fell asleep in was her sweet, sweet oasis from all that.

City noises drifted in from outside, the irregular honks and toots of angry drivers that could always be heard no matter where she was, droning sirens as police cars and ambulances drove by- it seemed there was always something happening here. Earlier in the day, there had been a standoff with police, a panther holding some apartment complex hostage for a few hours. In the end, he had disappeared into the night, hopefully never to be seen again. Not that Rybecca had seen any of this on the news, she had been too busy catering to her boss' every whim, making coffee and copies. Just another day for her.

The creak of the front door opening brought her out of her sleep enough to sit up and cast lazy glances around the room, unsure if she had dreamt the noise or whether it was real. When she heard the wooden door shut, she was brought fully into reality. Memories jumped into her mind, snippets of the last conversation she'd had with her ex before he'd left- well, while he left. She brought a paw up to her face, expecting to feel the bruise his last punch had left, though it was long gone. He'd swung at her and stormed out, alcohol thick on his breath like it normally was, pausing in the doorway only to turn around and cast one final jab and sneer at her. "Wouldn't expect a lazy slut to ever fix this door anyways. Been squeaking like your jabbering ass ever since I moved in. Fucking bitch."

The wooden floor of her living room squeaked with a sudden pawstep, ripping her out of the past and back into her bedroom, sitting stock-still in bed, eyes dilated with fear. Someone was certainly in her house- but why? Her mind ran through a quick list of people that would have any reason to break in: her ex, her parents... her boss, even. Fuck. After a crazed moment's thinking, she realised that it didn't really matter. She needed to do something, get out of her room and make her presence known. But... on the other paw, maybe the intruder was just there to grab a couple things from the living room, make a quick hundred at the pawn shops that dotted the city, many of which would buy goods without a second thought. Her bed seemed awfully safe compared to the shadowy depths of her hallway....

Shaking her head, Rybecca rolled the covers off of her, the light pink of her glowing rings serving to light up her bedroom faintly. Every beat of her heart was loud enough to wake her neighbours in her mind, every scratch of the sheets on her mattress deafening. Nonetheless, she stepped out of bed, making sure not to put her footpaw down on the wooden panel right beside her bed, she remembered the annoyingly loud screech it made every morning when she woke up. Not that there were really any silent boards in this piece-of-shit apartment she'd rented with her boyfriend. Everything seemed to break -if it had ever worked right- and maintenance almost doubled the rent. It was home, though, and she was proud of it. For the most part.

Another footstep in the living room was followed by a muffled curse that Rybecca's pointed ears could just barely pick up, a masculine voice that she didn't at all recognise. It had an almost-stereotypical thug drawl to it from what she could make out, and her mind started to race. There were several gangs in town, but she didn't know why any of them would choose to target her of all people. She made next to nothing!

Unless her ex had hired someone to fuck her up, scare her. If so, it was working, the Kobold's breaths increasing in pace, her heartbeat uptempo compared to the hibernating beast it had been while she slept. News headlines flashed through her mind, all of the recent gang violence she'd witnessed over the past couple of years living in Belmont. She was terrified of becoming just another dead body, another unsolved case. Long-forgotten memories began to seep into her awareness, her mother's dead body and the gunman who killed her looking at the dead lady's terrified child and spitting on the floor before walking away, and she bit her lip, trying to push it all down. She needed to be paying attention right now, she couldn't afford to miss anything or slip up.

Not that she needed to make a mistake to give herself away, it seemed like every thump of her pawpads on the cheap rug she'd thrown into the hallway when she moved in was audible, loud even. It was hard to be completely silent, no matter how hard she tried, and she found herself hoping whoever it was wouldn't hear.

Rybecca looked both ways as she stood in the doorway, trying to decide what the hell to do. Light seeped from underneath the closed kitchen door, precious light! If she could just get there, grab a knife, she might be able to defend herself or scare her attacker off. The other door, leading to the living room, was dark and wide open, and she stared at it for a few seconds before turning back to the kitchen. She needed that knife. Her blunt claws would do nothing, she had to keep them dull for her job, like most animals who worked in an office did, and they couldn't even slice through paper, much less fur and flesh.

A gasp escaped her as movement flitted on the dark end of the hallway, taunting her peripheral vision. Her head spun in that direction, gaze raking through the shadows and doorways, but nothing seemed to be out of place. She scolded herself, trying to keep it in check. Can't afford to be seeing shit, Ry. C'mon!

With a brave first step, she began to make her way to the kitchen door, hoping and praying that nobody heard those raggedy breaths or padded pawsteps. Not until she got that knife. Doubts flitted at the back of her mind that she would be able to hurt the intruder at all, and she tried her best to stifle them. When it came down to the wire, she needed to be able to stab him if he didn't leave. No matter that she was the same Kobold who had been kicked out of scouts as a kid for refusing to hunt or skin feral rabbits, the same Rybecca that would trap beetles instead of stepping on them, saving the crawlers for an outside release. It didn't matter. Couldn't matter.

Try as she could, Rybecca couldn't make out any more noises from the living room or anywhere else in the house. That scared her too, not knowing where he was, and every shadow seemed to leap out at her like a puppet on strings, controlled by the malevolent grasp of her fear and paranoia. It took all her willpower to not just scream for help and barricade herself in her room- calls like that were often ignored in the city, nobody wanted to get any more involved with crime then they were. That was also why so many crimes went unsolved: nobody wanted to come forward about anything, ever, lest someone find out and punish them severely.

As Ry came within arm's reach of the door, she froze. She didn't remember closing that door, knew that it had been open when she'd crashed in bed. There was no way her lazy self had thought to close it- she hadn't even cleaned off the counters! Her first instinct was to turn around and flee to the living room, anywhere but that lit up door, but she knew that was stupid. Last she'd heard, the intruder was in the living room. Plus, that's where the TV and computer were, surely those were theft-worthy, right? All seven pieces of jewelry she owned were locked up in the bathroom, and the only things left in the kitchen from when her boyfriend left were a few plates and silverware. There was no reason for him to be in there.

What settled it was her need for some sort of weapon, something that she could only find in that room. She wasn't strong enough to do any real damage with a blunt object, and the only sharp things she owned were the knives she cooked with. There's no way he's in there. He doesn't have any reason to be there, she told herself, paw gripping at the cold handle of the door. She knew if any hesitation took over her, she would end up chickening out, so she steeled herself and threw the door open, making sure to catch it before it hit the wall- and froze.

Standing on the tiled floor of the kitchen was a shadowy-black panther, blue eyes staring out with malice that pierced through the dark like neon signs. In his left paw he held the cutting knife that had been out on the counter, and he was rolling it between his fingers with the obvious skill of someone who knows how to use a weapon. A small pink tattoo on his shoulder proved he was in some sort of gang, but she never payed enough attention to those kinds of things to know which one it was. Not that it mattered, she needed to run, to scream, to do something!

As she quickly found out, she couldn't. Her feet were frozen, her lungs devoid of any air to scream with. It was as if the wood of the doorway had wrapped around her legs like weeds, pulling her down and rooting her to the spot, trapping her in their grasp. She knew she needed to move, to alert her neighbours, but her commands got intercepted somewhere after leaving her brain, body completely unresponsive with shock.

The panther met her dilated eyes with a nonchalant smirk, half-raised eyebrows taunting her indecision. He stopped rolling the knife and flipped it in his paw, letting it settle into a lazy combat grip, the glinting edge held out and downwards. Rybecca watched, hypnotised by the movements.

The panther was the first to break the silence. "Normally a pretty bitch like you would've turn tail and run or screamed for dear mommy... You mute, cunt?" His smirk erupted into a sneer, his body relaxing down through his tense torso.

Those words served to be the ax that severed Rybecca from her position, unfreezing her body. She turned around, aiming to do both those things, but she never got the chance. The panther threw his knife to the side, letting it clang onto the counter, and used his feline instincts to spring into her, knocking her off her feet and into the wall. Immediately, Rybecca's vision went red, the back of her head smashing into the doorframe with a solid smack, sending huge waves of pain through her body. She crumpled to the ground, her vision fading alongside with her awareness of the world around her.

Faintly, she could feel a pool of blood spreading from the back of her head, but that was all in another universe. It didn't matter. Already, she could see a shadowy darkness spreading across her field of view, the welcoming sanctum of unconsciousness, and she accepted that. At least she wouldn't have to watch herself die, watch that panther slit her throat with his untrimmed claws. Blackout.