Jason's Apartment...

Knock, Knock.

"Hm, who could that be?"

With curiosity, she made her way to the door and peered into the peephole. A gorilla in an officers uniform stood there.

Jason sat at the counter, finishing his breakfast.

Walking over to him, she quietly exclaimed, "Jason, there's an officer at the door."

A wave of uneasiness passed over them. Jason got up and cast a wary glance through the peephole. It was like a switch, the adrenaline surged through him. He deftly sifted through the books on a nearby shelf, finally reaching a weathered leather journal. He passed it to his wife, Nyala, his eyes conveying paranoia, and the potential urgency of the situation.

"Go to the address, look for Simon!!" he instructed as he ushered her into the bathroom, his tone firm yet laced with worry.

Eye's widened, and equally worried, she said, "I-is that--but Jason, you don't have to answer it-"

Three more knocks, this time more aggressive. As if demanding. It echoed throughout the apartment. Jason reached for his double-action revolver hidden behind a set of books and checked its cylinder.

"He'll likely barge in soon, Nyala, you need to hide." asserted Jason, his tone steady.

With a final glance, Nyala retreated into the bathroom and hid, her heart hammering in her chest as she braced herself for the worst. Beneath her newfound fear, another sensation gnawed at her: the relentless anticipation of her impending motherhood. As she huddle into the cramped confines of the sinks cupboard, she pushed the supplies aside, and started to breathe. Jason prepared to open the door, aiming the barrel of the gun where the visitor stood. He unlocked the door.

A few moments earlier...

"You ready?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Go on then, come get us when you're done."

"Alright."

Stepping out of the van parked discreetly down the street. The officer walked on over. It was still early in the morning, there hadn't been too many people out and about yet. The streets were still and sleepy. Some cars drove by and a few stragglers walked. This early, all were fixed on whatever goal or desire they'd have in mind, oblivious to the impending chaos.

Finally arriving at the door, he knocked and tried to listen in. Hoping to glean any hint of what might lay behind it. Unfortunately for him, he was greeted with nothing. The silence covered him in a shroud of uncertainty. He glanced around, hands resting on his belt. He waited for a moment before knocking once more, with a heavier hand this time.

After a moment, he heard the door unlock with a sudden click. With this, he attempted to open it and barge in, but a formidable privacy latch thwarted his attempt. Frustration growing, he bent down and tried to force the door. Unaware of the barrel aligned with his crown of his scalp.

With the barrel tapping his head, instincts demanded he look up. Faced with a grim realization, his eyes darted to the crack in the door, meeting with Jason's cold glare. He froze.

...

"Fuck's he standing there for-----"

Six shots went off, sending shockwaves into the stillness of the otherwise quiet morning. The gorilla collapsed into the door, its weight shattering the latch and forcing it open. Jason stepped back, looked around and started to think.

With practical precision, he darted toward the living room and flipped the couch, transforming it into makeshift cover. Following this, he slid over the counter separating the two rooms and did the same with the table in the kitchen. With his gun reloaded and now at the ready, he simply waited.

"Fuck, he got-em!!!"

"Shit!!"

Three, of the four goons rush out of the van and race toward Jason's apartment. The fourth casually followed behind them, loading a single shot in his rifle.

The three: A duck, a lion, and a bear, each carrying guns of their own, entered the apartment.

The duck, both reckless and eager, flapped on in, saw the overturned couch and started spraying his tommy gun with reckless abandon. Unbeknownst to him, Jason was crouched in the kitchen behind the overturned table.. Jason's response was just as quick as it was lethal. With deadly accuracy, he sent a single shot into the duck's head, easily dispatching him.

As the duck fell, his gun continued to go off until it ran out of ammo. Making this altercation, all the more dangerous for all parties involved. Each took cover and hoped not to get hit.

"Fuckin' Fuck! Ducy's dead!!" Exclaimed the Lion.

"No-shit. He shouldn't have been all gung-ho!" Replied the Bear.

Once the gun ceased firing, Jason remained unfazed. He vaulted over the counter into the living and hid behind the archway leading into the kitchen. There, he waited to emerge from that unexpected angle. As the two approached the kitchen with caution and guns drawn, they scanned the environment. Growing anxious at that the fact that they'd lost him.

"He-he ain't here!!" Shouted the Lion.

In that same moment, they noticed a small spiraling cup on the counter. It's twirl, a countdown. As it danced by the edge, it fell, shattering. The bear realized and in this moment, Jason peered from around the archway leading into the living room and shot.

Two bullets penetrated the lions chest, swiftly puncturing his heart.

Caught off guard, the lion failed to react in any notable way. As he collapsed against the sink, the barrel of his gun fell toward the bear's leg, his finger gripping the trigger instinctively.

The accidental discharge led the lion's rifle to spray an onslaught of bullets rippling into partner's leg.

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"F-fuck!!" Exclaimed the bear.

In response, the bear too miss his shot, peppering the walls to the right of where Jason once stood. As the bear fell Against the wall, Jason seized the moment and peeked from the kitchen counter. With this new angle, Jason dispatched two shots to the bear's face. As he leaned, slowly slumping over against the wall, you could see him slipping.

Sighing in relief, Jason walked on over into the hallway, observing the bear's struggle to rise with a mean scowl. One final shot had ended it.

Two shots blended, fired simultaneously.

With the bear put down, Jason held his neck and fell.

The fourth goon, a blackbuck antelope, waited. His antlers were well groomed. He wore a dapper vest, black dress pants, and a grey collared t-shirt with rolled-up sleeves.

For the entirety of the massacre, he stood outside with the patience of a hunter. His rifle aimed in and waiting for the perfect shot.

In that same moment, in which Jason figured he got them all. When he finished off the bear, the fourth, shot him.

Lowering his weapon, the Buck hopped from atop the parked car and motioned toward Jason's apartment. He did so with a cocky stroll, smiling and resting his rifle over his shoulder. He then flicked his cigar onto the pavement.

As he entered and neared, his voice was soft, almost, flirtatious.

"Good shit Jason, I'd expected no less. Facing you, head-on, in your home... A dumbass idea."

After a brief chuckle, he continued, "Hell, it's why I waited outside."

Nonchalantly walking toward Jason, he kicked the duck's corpse aside.

Pausing, he looked at the duck and commented, "He was just so pathetic. The things we did to his wife..." Crushing the ducks head with the heel of his boot, he continued, "And get this, he knew too! Plain ol' denial. I mean we did it in front of-em and he still denied it- hahaheh. Huh, it's sad really... Too bad, though. I enjoyed it."

A crooked smile adorned his face, deriving from a sick mind. One that enjoys the suffering of others, breaking them like the toys they are... Setting that aside, he continued to converse with Jason.

"You know, I like you... Despite that, problem is, Knowing-Jason! Knowing what you know, just can't afford to let ya live."

Jason held his neck as he reached for his gun. Grabbing it, he fought to raise it. His hand trembling, struggling to line up the shot he desperately wanted to take.

"Jesus Jason, still at it, huh, Jason!?! I'd kick it away but you've shot six shots already... I suppose... dying can make a fellow fella, desperate, can't it-"

With slight chuckle and through the gargled blood, Jason interrupted, "It's... Cust...om-ma...de!" before firing his seventh and final shot.

Seeing Jason's finger squeeze that trigger, the Buck dropped his rifle and flinched. That final shot hit him in shoulder.

Shocked, the Buck kneeled, glaring at Jason, and laughed, "Ho-ly shit! I coulda fu-ck-in died!"

Upon processing his near-death experience, he gets hit with a wave of anxiety and a feeling of blissful, exhilaration.

"Whoowee, Hot-damn!! I gotta give it to you Jason. You woulda had me!!"

Regaining his composure, he softly grabbed Jason's mane, got close, and gently stated, "Hell, you shoulda had me. Haha... Jason, before you tap out on me, I want you to know somethin."

As Jason drifted away, the Buck paused, tapping Jason's face in an effort to keep him conscious. "Buddy! Heylo!!! Jasey-poo!!!'

With Jason dead, the Buck stood up and let out an exasperated sigh before muttering aloud. "You shot six shots earlier... Assuming the big guy wasn't alone and hiding that fact that you're toting a custom. If it weren't for me, you would've actually, got out alive. My, my, Jason. I gotta give it to ya, you're one ferocious motherfucker!"

Following this, he hummed and moseyed on over to the phone and made a call.

"Heya, we got-em. Well, I got-em. Go on and send em down. I'll be waiting."

After the call ended, he walked on over and placed his rifle by the bathroom door. Opening the door, he walked toward the mirror and took off his shirt to inspect his wound.

"Got me good, he did." He muttered.

Digging into his pocket, he pulls out cigar and started smoking.

"One down... Another to go..."

As he winded down, Nyala barged out of the cupboards with her extended claws. Surprised, he threw his arms up in an attempt to ward off her relentless attack. She tore and lacerated those arms while screaming at him. Her guttural growl, laced with anguish. The Buck stepped back, trying to distance himself from the sudden onslaught. Grunting in pain and inadvertently falling into tub, she sought to kill him right then and there.

As Nyala charged him, she growled, "I'll kill you!"

The Buck kicked her away and taunted, "Feisty, aren'tcha? I like that!"

Taking his a kick to the shoulder, she collided with the door behind her. Tripping over the duck's corpse in the process. During the fall, she caught herself, protecting her stomach from harm. As she stood up, she saw Jason. As her mouth slowly opened, her lips quivered and tears slowly poured.

In broken words, she whispered, "Jason..."

With a contorted face, embodying both, the rage and pain. She leapt for the rifle and aimed it at the buck, and eagerly pulled the trigger.

Click.

Climbing out of the tub and pushing the curtains aside, he laughed before shouting, "It ain't loaded bitch!"

After the failed attempt, the Buck with a wide grin, pulled a switchblade out of his back pocket and tossed it. Coming to, Nyala barely dodges the blade and runs. With the buck on her tail, he throws his hands out to grab her. In response, Nyala slings the bookshelf down on him, darts down the stairs and out into the street.

As the Buck lay there with his antlers stuck in the shelf, aggravated, he shouted, "Run! JUST KNOW YOU AINT GETTIN' FAR!!"

Running, she tossed the rifle into the road and looked around for whoever she could call for help. No one was there. Sobbing, she continued to run.

Taking a bullet to the shoulder and having many slashes on his arms, he laid there for a moment in silence. His smile was gone, he dawned a slightly, furrowed brow and simply glared out into the street with a cold, unwavering gaze. After a while, he slowly got up and with gritted teeth, he fetched his rifle.

After that, he returned to Jason's apartment. Slowly heading up the steps, he carefully motioned pass the overturned bookshelf and entered the kitchen.

Placing the rifle on the counter, he grabbed a rag near the sink and cleaned it in silence. When he was done, he opened the drawer, and grabbed a spoon.

Staring at it, he said aloud, "Figured you wouldn't have kept her here... Given the shit, you so, gracefully stepped into... You know, I wish I didn't kill you, I really do..."

Lowering the spoon to his side, he turned around and face Jason's corpse. Walking over, he did so, as if he tried to hide the limp, and sat down next to Jason and placed his atop his lap.

Caressing Jason's mane, he continued, "I would've liked it if you were there to watch."

As he finished that sentence, a hardly noticeable smile creeped on his face.

Gripping Jason's head, he scooped out one of Jason's eyes and glared into it, concluding, "When I catch her, we'll watch that pregnant pussycat scream."

All before pocketing it.

...Meanwhile, streets away, Nyala's run slowed to a cautious walk. Her heart pumped rapidly, not only from the adrenaline but from the intense pressure building in her lower abdomen. The weight of her impending motherhood pressed heavy on both her mind and body.

Seeking help, her eyes darted around the empty street. A bit-a-ways ahead of her, she spotted a lone taxi parked by the curb. Its driver reclined in the seat and read a newspaper. With this flicker of hope, she steadily made her way towards the cab.

Seeking relief from the growing discomfort, she placed a hand on her stomach, paused and took deep breaths.

I need to keep moving.

When she finally reached the taxi, she waved frantically and shouted, "Hey!!! huh... HEY!!!"

Startled, the driver dropped and glanced over before rolling down the window.

"Please, I need to get to the hospital!" exclaimed Nyala, her voice trembling.

Without hesitating the driver hopped out and opened the back door, helping Nyala into the back seat. As the cabby rush to the driver's seat, she asked "Hey-uh, got a preferred hospital in mind or?"

Wincing as another wave of pressure washed over her, she swiftly replied, "I-it doesn't matter, just-"

And with that, the cabby floored it. As they sped off, Nyala leaned back and focused her breathing in an attempt to steady herself for journey ahead.

Given a moment of reprieve, her mind abandoned the cab and fled elsewhere. Recapping the horrid events, the sounds of gunfire echoed in her head. The vile Buck, his words, and Jason. Her first and only love now gone. Faced with that fact, she wept over her loss.

They'd had been together for twenty-five years. Tried, for twenty-five years...

Minutes into the ride, she felt a sudden, sharp pop low in her abdomen, followed by a warm gush of fluid soaking the seat beneath her. She gasped, as the realization of what occurred dawned on her.

"My water just broke!" She whispered to herself.

Catching the whisper and glancing into the rearview mirror, the cabby tightened her grip on the steering wheel and pressed down on the accelerator and hauled ass. The city streets, almost a blur as they raced towards the hospital.