The 'Shifters

Chapter 3

An empty tin can dropped to the ground with a clank. Another can fell, followed by a used toothbrush, a discarded notebook, a banana peel, and another empty tin can. In the middle of a dark alley way this made a lot of noise. Rummaging through a dumpster was a fox, the front half of his body hidden in the trash. His intelligent eyes scanned the trash, searching for anything edible that wasn't rotten and or covered in maggots. He sniffed the air before jerking his head back in disgust. The smell of the rotting garbage would even drive away cockroaches. He re-thought his statement as one of the indestructible little insects crawled atop of what appeared to be a dirty diaper.

"Disgusting," he muttered as he leapt down from the dumpster. He sighed, his stomach rumbling. He slunk towards the edge of the alley and glanced out into the street. It was strangely quiet as not a single person was in sight. The fox silently slipped out of the alley and onto the sidewalk, pausing only momentarily to listen for any signs of human activity. He cautiously walked down the street. It wasn't common for foxes to walk around in broad daylight, and he knew it. A human could easily mistake him for a diseased animal.

Just as he was getting comfortable strolling through the streets, a shadow covered him. He leapt back in surprise, only to bump into something. He twisted around to see a pair of old worn sneakers, and the ripped edges of jeans. His eyes traveled up to the grinning face of a human boy. How he had not seen him coming was a mystery. He appeared to be in his mid-teens with a pimply face and a shaven head. He was beefy and looked like he could kill a person if he wanted to, though a brick probably had a higher IQ.

"That's one funny looking dog," he said, his lack of hygiene apparent.

"That's not a dog, dimwit," said another voice. The fox turned around, finding a completely different sight. This one was also in his mid-teens, but he was tall and scrawny with an overflowing head of dirty blonde hair. He had cold, calculating eyes and a sharp pointed nose that reminded him of a fairy tale villain.

"It's a fox," he continued, a bloodthirsty gleam in his eyes as he stared at the fox. As if finally realizing what was happening, the fox tried to bold away to only find the breath knocked out of him as a sneaker kicked him side. He lay dazed on the sidewalk for a moment before he started floating from the ground. He suddenly became face to face with the beefy one, an amused smile on his acne covered face. That was his mistake.

The fox lurched forward and clamped his teeth around the boy's nose and was awarded with a scream of pain and the taste of blood. The fox got the breath knocked out of him for the second time as he was flung to the ground. He didn't allow himself to rest before he bolted down the street away from the angry shouts of the teens. He heard footsteps slap the pavement behind him and knew that they were chasing him, intent on revenge.

He raced down the street, the teens in hot pursuit. His side ached where he had been kicked and there would surely be a bruise hidden under his red fur in the morning. Whatever energy had was slowly deteriorating, and he felt his pace slow. He knew that the teens would be on him in no time, and he briefly wondered what they would do to him.

He turned at an alley, hoping that it would either confuse them or allow him escape, but his hopes were killed as a brick wall loomed in front of him. He scanned the wall, searching for a gap in the wall, only to find it sealed up tightly. The sound of skidding sneakers and heavy breathing made him turn around. At the entrance of the alleyway stood the two teens. The one he had bitten was holding a hand to his nose as blood gushed between his fingers, blind rage filling his eyes. The other one didn't seem as angry. Simply pleased that he had caught the fox and excited to cause him harm. He started walking towards the fox, a cruel gleam in his eyes, the other one following right behind. The fox began frantically looking around the alleyway for any means of escape when a low growling made the boys stop dead in their tracks.