Binds and Brands

Bloodhound's Nose

Above ground boards squeaking, being the only sound to touch a human ear, other then that, complete and utter silence filled the house. Where the crew sat themselves was unknown, but it spelled danger for the house.

Cricks in the wood startled only flies, but quickly melded into a pelting stampede of boot, busting in the door and causing chips to rain on the floor in dusty piles.

The view that met them was unsightly- nothing.

Badges glistening in the rank light that streamed through the house asserted authority over all creatures residing in the building, but none of which they desired.

Four males, curious-eyed, paced around the house, scoping out- up and down- for any sign of human life and with none to present. Wiping down cold sweat in a hurry, they picked at every nook and cranny, practically x-raying the whole flat.

Evidently, they found weaponry galore in this shit-hole, and collected it for themselves. It was surprisingly upkept and advanced for such- what they considered- lowlifes, although they knew it wasn't true.

Prying the previously mentioned weapons in duffle-bags, they gathered 'round again and formed a plan to tear into their criminals.

They tracked this place down from every bank, store, and candy-shop that has even been picked clean by the so-called 'Fake AH Crew'. It was no surprise this is where they set camp, it's moderately secluded and right next to another huge gang, where they chuck the blame.

It's a god-damn wonder they haven't scented them down sooner, considering how host-haste they scram to this place after a clean-out. They were too overzealous with their grab-bags. It was kind of pathetic according to authority.

Venturing throughout the house to scower, one came across quite a sight, surely one that would earn him a large bonus pay in his pocket.

Venturing down a run-down hallway and arriving to what could only be the door to the garage, caked with what was, hopefully, grease and oil along the bottom, he hesitantly pulled the door open and reveled in the sight.

The crew, illuminated before him by a few sparse lights, tampering and tinkering with some weapons that could only be of mass destruction. They hadn't noticed considering the door had only opened a smidgen, and they were too caught up in their own dues anyways... Thankfully.

He motioned for the other three all-too-eager cops to follow him down the hall. Pointing hurriedly at the door he began a chant.

"Alright," he whispered, "in on the count of three."

The second he reached one they busted through the door, sending pieces of wood flying with them, admittedly catching the crew by a bit of shock and surprise. They stormed down the stairs and started laying punches, they weren't taking shit.

Geoff, despite his age managed to catch and throw some punches like he was 20 again, along side the rest of his crew. If only he brought his studded brass knuckles with him, this would be way more entertaining.

Michael's pent up anger finally caught up with him and he was having a joy feeling blood on his skin, could almost call it therapeutic.

Finally feeling this surge of adrenaline after such a while with it boiling inside was a godsend, but after the cops backed off and dribbled from the faces in mercy, it wasn't without a final kiss goodbye to send their regards and remembrances.

In the flurry of gnarled teeth and fists, fur also flew and now the cops knew.

They knew about the secret they kept for so long and so well, and they weren't taking it now.

When hands grabbed, fabric came with it and flicking tails did not help in the slightest.

They were found out.

In the panic, they realized something else was taken from them. something more dear then what kept them alive. It was their little rabbit. He was gone.

Ray struggled and kicked and shouted every curse under the sun and over, but him being so small and scrawny from only sniping took its toll and he simply couldn't break free. He was so used to being protected behind the sight and this was all new to him. He didn't know what to do.

It sent him into a hysterical panic.

Their beaten up bodies dragged his feet through the hallways and outside, onto the patio and through the grass. He tried jamming his feet into the ground but to no avail. his hands quivered as he was slowly edged towards the car and pushed inside, slamming the door behind him.

He stared outside. Everything was so different from inside the car he was always pinning down.

The remaining, rattled up crew managed to get outside just in time, teeth clenched and fists ready. But too little to late, to their dropping hearts.

Their last sight of Ray was him driving off in a car, eyes wide and scared. He looked so vulnerable and pitiful. Like a deer in the headlights.

After the dust cleared, Geoff was surprised the cops didn't come barreling back for the rest of them. they seemed safe but their minds were not at ease, and wouldn't be for a while, it seemed.

"I'm worried sick for him. I don't want anything horrid to happen to him." Michael drawled on as they went inside. He was so scared for his little buddy.

"He can't handle himself out there." Jack piped up, staring at Geoff expectantly.

Geoff bit his lip in thought and furrowed his brow.

"None of my boys get hurt and I'll hold onto that world till the day I die. We won't let anything happen to him, you hear?" He explained, minutely pacing back and forth.

"We'll get bunny back to the hutch."