The Lesser Known One
Sup readers, I had an idea, I wanted to do a story without any humans, so I thought up this little piece. If it receives enough positive feedback, I'll continue it.
So here is a little teaser
Drake
EDIT: Minor spelling errors and small fixer uppers.
Venator
Chapter 1: The Lesser Known One
Venator: A person or animal that hunts.
******
Many of the furs in the Lylat System knew of the ruthless and dishonest mercenary, Wolf O'Donnell. He was the most notorious merc in all of known space. But most if not all had no idea that he had an older brother, a darker, more violent, older brother. But even with his darkness, he had an unshakable code, one that he never wavered from.
Wolf's older brother walked a different path then that of his younger sibling. Wolf became a respected if immoral mercenary, while his older brother treaded down the less respected and more dangerous path...of a hit man.
He earned the alias of _Venator, _but his real name was Hunter and that was probably why he had kept the name. He found it rather fitting.
Indeed, this particular lupine was a killer for hire. But he only accepted contracts that he deemed honorable or pure. He went after murderers, philes of every type, rapists, otherwise beings known as the scum of the galaxy. He never accepted a contract that was less than scrupulous, a conscientious cutthroat if you would believe that. At the moment, he was on assignment, a...gentler word for his line of work.
And that is where the lupine currently was, hunting a target in the far reaches of Lylat space, off the beaten intergalactic path, a minor unimportant world called Leos.
Leos was a small arid desert world, a wild west of the future. There was no government, no law, no police; everything was settled by either gun or a sword...for those who still used it. In other words, it was a perfect place for a murderer to hide, and that's why he was there.
Hunter opened the doors to the small pub in the center of the miserable town he had flown to. The matte black furred wolf entered the saloon, gripping the holster of his blaster in a confident fingerless gloved paw under his black, armor-weave duster. One thing the wolf allowed himself to indulge in was his love for the color black.
There were a few patrons that night, just what he was hoping for. It made his job that much easier. He had scoped the joint for days, making sure that his target actually came here every day. Now that he knew for certain, all he had to do now was wait.
The wolf treaded across the murky grey floor, armored boots thudding loudly as he walked over to the bar. He sat on one of the stools, placing his gloved paws on the counter letting his long claws clack on the frigid steel. He looked up at the bartender, a porcine fellow both in size and race. The pig was looking nervously at the tall and muscular masked wolf that had taken a seat at his counter.
"What can I get you?" The portly pig had inquired in his annoying piggish voice that set his fangs on edge.
"I'll take the strongest thing you've got." The wolf growled darkly, flashing his dagger-like teeth.
"Right away." The swine affirmed, reaching under the bar and grabbing a brightly glowing red bottle, pouring it into a shot glass.
"The bottle, leave it." Hunter snarled, causing the pig to nod his head repeatedly and leave it there, quickly heading to the opposite end to tend to the next customer and stay away from the hostile wolf.
Hunter pulled the armored mask away from his muzzle, placing it on the counter besides the bottle and revealing a scarred snout and tattered left ear. He had earned the obvious scar that ran along the entirety of his muzzle from one of the more dangerous prey he had hunted. A serial killer who had taken many lives and tore countless families apart. He had cornered the quite literal rat in the sewers where he made his home and it turned out he had more bite than Hunter had given the little shit credit for. During the melee, the rodent had chomped down on his muzzle and tore it up with his needle teeth. The rat's reward for his stupidity was to be ripped into by the wolves' fangs. He didn't last that long after that. After all, a wold trumps a rat any day.
His ear was an altogether dissimilar story. He had been chasing a rouge merc in his wolfen mark IV when the slimy bastard landed a hit on him. He managed to take the asshole out, but his ship was too damaged to land so he had crashed it...with style. Needless to say, he crawled out of that wreck with a few broken bones and his shredded ear. He could still hear out of it...most of the time.
Hunter brooded over his past as he swigged out of the glowing bottle. A few hours into his mellow remembrance, the monster he was looking for swaggered into the bar. His target was a lean and tall cheetah. Jayden Arlenko was wanted for several counts of murder, assault, armed robbery, and rape.
He had been a very bad kitty.
The cheetah looked already wasted; he could hardly make it over and sit at the bar. The poor bastard only made it easier for him. As the black speckled fur rocked on the stool, he looked to the nearest person to talk with, Hunter.
"Hey bud, how's it going?" He asked landing a grimy paw on the Hunter's shoulder pad.
Hunter shrugged off the dirty appendage and growled. "Fine, now fuck off."
Jayden's formed a consternated expression and placed his paw on the wolf again, squeezing firmly. "No need to be rude bro."
Hunter shoved him...hard.
The cheetah fell flat on his drunken ass, landing on his tail and yowling loud enough for all to hear. "What the fuck!" He hissed angrily, unsheathing his claws and getting ready to fight, tail lashing to and fro behind him.
Hunter glanced back at him, scoffed, and turned back to his bottle and chugged the rest of the contents, letting the burning liquid slither down his throat.
The cat was enraged by his dismissal and let out a howl and rushed over to land a killer swipe on the back of Hunter's neck.
As fast as lightning, Hunter tossed the bottle in the air, grabbed the nape and brought it around to crack down into the feline's face. The glass exploded, embedding shards into the cat's muzzle and sending him back to the floor.
Jayden began to screech in pain and clutch his mangled snout, blood seeping through his closed paws.
All the patrons watched as the wolf casually dropped the rest of the bottle and step away from his seat, turning to face the grounded feline. "Don't be such a bitch." He snarled, pulling a bladed blaster pistol out from underneath his duster. "After all, isn't that what you said to all those women?"
"What are you talking about?" The cheetah whimpered, removing his paws from his bloody muzzle.
Hunter whistled, fugly ass here wouldn't be winning any awards for his good-looking schnozzle. "You are Jayden Arlenko correct?"
"Yeah so what?" The feline retorted angrily, climbing up to his hindpaws with some difficulty.
"Well, it seems that I was hired to kill a fellow by that name." Hunter replied casually, picking at a claw with his gun's blade.
The cheetah locked up. His tail stiffening like a board, and his eyes took on a terrified look. "What the hell are you talking about man?"
"You see Jayden, when you live a life like you have; murdering, raping, and all that fun stuff, there are...consequences." He finished darkly, crimson eyes flashing dangerously.
"You-you're crazy!" The cheetah gasped, but his blue eyes told all the truth Hunter needed to hear.
"That is possible, but you my friend...are dead." Hunter turned the barrel towards the wide eyed cheetah and the gun flashed bright red four times. The smoking corpse of the cheetah fell to the floor, eyes still wide in disbelief.
Hunter casually walked over to the body, opened his comms bracer and snapped a few photos, sending them to the females that had hired him.
After that he stood over the smoldering corpse, whistling a happy tune to himself as he waited to hear back from them. The few furs that had stayed in the bar stared at this wolf that had come in waited around for a few hours, and then killed someone.
There was a quite bing and the wolf looked to his device. He nodded, satisfied, grabbed his mask from the countertop, and walked out of the bar without a second glance.
As he walked through the dusty streets back to the shoddy starport, Hunter produced a cigar and a match from underneath his cloak. He struck the match using the sole of his boot, bringing the stuttering flame up to the cigar. Once it was lit, he took a puff, inhaling the opaque fumes and tossing the flaming match to the sandy ground.
"Another job well done, eh Hunter." He sighed with a grunt, muzzle twisted into a smile as he exhaled a cloud of smoke into the dry desert air.
He had one more job lined up this week, a favor for his younger brother. As he plodded along, he could not help but wonder who his brother wanted dead.