Business As Usual

introduction

My name is Stevie my last name doesn't matter, to start off I have no family and few friends.
A little about my self, I'm 20 years old, and I live in Virginia near Langley( gotta stay close to business). There's not much to me, I have an abrasive personality, I'm a 6'3 racoon with a mechanical arm and in fit condition, I might not be right in the head but it's still up for debate.
And I clean up after the government.

If you want your oc in the story just pm me and leave a description of your fursona and what role you want to play

             Part one

Beep beep bee... "ugh" Stevie groaned as he rolled over in his bed to see sunlight pouring through the Windows. "Another long day" he grumbled to him self as he climbs out of bed and walks towards the kitchen, after turning on the coffee maker he stops and begins to think about last night(last night)

The frantic foot steps and splashing of puttles shatter the silence of the rainy night as a fur by the name of Nichol Monty runs through the allys of downtown Richmond. She skids to a halt behind a dumpster holding a gash on her arm, "I think I lost him" she whispers to her self. As she settles into her hiding spot to check her wounds she freezes hearing someone whistling "he's a jolly good fellow" slowly creeping towards her. "Shit" she curses under her breath as she prepares to run again. Once the foot steps stop she jumps up and goes to run, but is stopped in her tracks by a thundering bang. With a searing pain in her chest she falls onto her side and feels a warm liquid oozing from the hole in her chest as she gets a good long look at her pursuer. Standing there holding a shortened pump action is a tall racoon with shaggy hair and piercing blue eyes with not an once of remorse in them, as he levels the gun at her she squeezes her eyes shut with tears welling up and waits for the end
..whistling..
he was snapped from his flash back by th coffee machine, after he had turned it off he sipped his coffee and thought about the dead reporter he had to bury. He walked outside still wearing only sweet pants and grabs the shovel from the shed, then proceeds to his red 1985 Chevy 1500 and looks at the black trash bag in the bed and sighs. After carrying the bag into the woods behind his house and burying it he begins the trek home having worked up a sweat, upon arriving at the house he drops the shovel by the back door and walks in, only to be greeted by the annoying "ice ice baby" ringtone of his smart phone.

By the way slow updates I don't have internet so even if I have an update I might not be able to put it up
Stevie out ]:{