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I loved how this turned out.
also muscular Renamon back <3
High Resolution Pictures and more available on my Patreon
Do NOT edit/alter my art
Renamon © Bandai
also muscular Renamon back <3
High Resolution Pictures and more available on my Patreon Do NOT edit/alter my art
Renamon © Bandai
Category Artwork (Digital) / Digimon
Species Digimon
Size 916 x 1280px
File Size 180.7 kB
Listed in Folders
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/17927059/
The shouts of the protestors were only faintly audible from the alleyway on Forty Third Street, four blocks to the east of City Hall. Its presence was like a gateway to a completely different world compared to the grandeur of the nearby municipal building. The narrow walkway between the older brick buildings was dank and uninviting; the only light apart from a single lamp from down the alley came from the street. Numerous dumpsters and trash cans lined the graffiti soaked walls and tightly sealed shutters. Passing through it meant walking beneath rickety steel fire escapes whose dark silhouettes gave the impression of cage ready to be dropped on an unsuspecting victim. The fearful passage continued on for near seventy feet before making a short “Z” shape between the buildings before continuing straight.
The back alley widened enough for two cars to park lengthways alongside one and other with room to spare, the courtyard going on for at least a couple of hundred yards. On the right immediately after the turn, running along the length of most of the courtyard was the back of the now vacant Empire Department Store, a once famous establishment which had simply faded out like so many icons. Here the lighting was still largely sparse, with only one street light at each end of the courtyard, the light reflecting roughly in the shape of an hourglass off the pavement, leaving much of the middle ground dark. Steam vented from a manhole cover eerily as the sounds of the city became largely extinct.
Just past halfway down the courtyard; three men were standing at the edge of the darkness, beneath another fire escape and before a doorway that was barely visible to the naked eye due to a long shadow that cast over a good portion of the building. The three men stood at the edge of that shadow, two of them obviously companions and the third was standing closest to the wall. Of the two companions, both in their late twenties, one was white and the other was black. The former was tall, wearing a grey hood and blue jeans, a distinctive goatee made of orange hair around his mouth and chin. His companion was broader, sporting a grey jumper and black pants with a grey beanie on his head.
The third man was also black, older than the other two, dressed in a more “gangster” style, a gold chain around his neck and matching pair of baggy black pants and shirt, common nightwear of those who worked illegally in the dark, and a backwards baseball cap.
“Let’s see some tributes then,” he said to the other two. The two other men reached into their pockets and each withdrew a tightly banded roll of bills, handing them over to him. So used to dealing with them was he that he didn’t need to count it anymore. He tucked the money into his left pocket and then reached into his right pocket for the merchandise they had just purchased. The two men held their hands out and in them the third man placed two balls of crack cocaine in each palm.
“Like the postal service; always reliable,” the one wearing the grey beanie smirked as he tucked the bags into his pocket.
“S’long as I got demand,” said the dealer, flatly.
“Man, fuckin’ on this shit is so... I mean I could fuck forever on it,” said the man with the orange goatee, grinning, “Like that girl we banged. The one that couldn’t talk, the mute one, remember?”
“She couldn’t scream about how good it was... or for help,” laughed the man in the beanie manically.
“Alright, alright, get lost. We’re done here,” the dealer said, unphased by what they had said.
“Alright, later,” said the man with the goatee as he and his companion turned and began to walk back towards the narrow pathway into the courtyard. The dealer watched them go, taking a step back into the shadow, his face only half visible in the light from the ground. He looked at his wrist watch, the luminous dial showed the minute hand tick over to 11:47 pm. He was only open for business for another thirteen minutes, but he always waited until exactly midnight. More than once had someone arrived just a minute before to get their fix from him and he was always happy to be payed.
As he looked at his wrist watch, he heard a faint shuffling above him, and the reflection of something became apparent in the face of the watch.
A pair of furred legs hanging above his head suddenly grabbed him around the neck and pulled him back into darkness, the dealer only able to let out a short yelp as he vanished.
“What was that?” asked the man with goatee as he and his compassion turned back to where the dealer had been standing. The sound of rattling metal rang above where they had last seen him, like somebody was struggling on the fire escape that was hidden in the pitch black. Only after a few moments, the rattling stopped. The two companions looked at each other nervously, their tense breathing showing in the night air. The man with the goatee nervously began to step towards the shadow, followed reluctantly by his companion. The listened intently as the neared the blackness that had apparently devoured their local drug dealer.
“Hey man, where you at?” called the man in the beanie. What sounded like footsteps on the fire escape made them freeze and look up, having no idea what it was staring back at them. Then there was nothing. Silence, no sound. But more tension.
“Who’s there?” called the man with the goatee.
A body was thrown from high up the shadow and landed hard on the ground into the light, rolling onto its back. It was the dealer and he looked dead. The two companions staggered back fearfully, neither of them daring to move closer to check on his wellbeing. The two stood frozen, fear numbing the instinctive reaction to run away. Movement from the right of the shadow caught their eyes. The two companions saw a figure leap from the darkness and cling skilfully to the fire escape on the next building. It was too dark to give away any fine details, but the silhouette showed a pair of pointed ears and a swooping, brushy tail. The head turned and although they could not see the eyes, they knew it was looking at them.
“Run, get the fuck out!” screamed the man with the beanie. His companion wasted no time in heeding his words as both men ran back towards the entrance to the courtyard. Adrenaline pumped through their limbs as the unknown assailant leapt between the fire escapes alongside the buildings, moving at a speed that far outmatched any human. The figure leapt around to the next building, moving lower and closer to the narrow entranceway. The two men sprinted to escape through it and get away from what just may be the Predator itself. Before they made it, however, the figure swung off the lowest level of the closest fire escape and landed at the mouth of the exit. It landed expertly, crouching with its fist clenched into the ground, before looking up at them. Both men stared with fear and confusion at their unknown assailant that now slowly stood up, no longer hidden in the shadows.
A foxlike female Anthromorph with yellow fur stood menacingly. She was dressed all in black, a short sleeve shirt, black shorts and long pair of fingerless gloves that extended almost to her elbows. She also carried a small black backpack. But the thing that drew their attention most was her eyes, which shone in the light and looked as hard as steel. Her hands clenched tightly as she regarded the two men before her with repulse.
“Leaving so soon?” she asked coldly. The man with the goatee drew a switch blade from behind his back, holding it in his right hand towards her threateningly, but trembling. The man with the beanie took a step closer.
“Get outta’ the way or I’ll slash you!” the one with the knife snapped.
“I don’t think so,” the girl said calmly, taking a step towards him.
“You got the drop on him,” he said, referring to the dealer, “We’re not scared of you,”
“Then why are you shaking? Or is it just the cold?” the girl replied with a cold smirk as she kept slowly walking towards them. The two companions began to sweat as they soon realised that it was not cold that was making them shiver so much.
The man with the goatee leapt foreword, slashing the knife across the air between him and the Anthromorph girl. She leapt back in response, but without a sign of fear. He kept slashing back and forth as he advanced on her, the girl avoiding his every swipe with rage inducing ease. With an animal like cry, he charged at her, reeling the knife back in an effort to stab her. As he did, she stopped moving back.
His arm stretched foreword with the blade aimed towards her neck. She ducked her head low to her left with the blade missing by inches. Immediately, she grabbed his arm with her left hand and stamped on his foot. He cried out in pain as her hand grabbed the around his wrist and held it and the knife in the air, releasing it just as her right fist struck him in the face. As he stumbled back, she spun and kicked him viscously in the stomach, sending him over onto his back. His companion, angered at the brutal treatment of his friend, charged towards her. She turned her head towards him and saw him running at her with his arms meaning to grab her. His hands seized onto her shirt as his tried to wrap his arms around her in an effort to seize control of her arms. She threw his arms back with her elbows, ducking and sidestepping to avoid a series of punches and kicks. On the fourth attempt, she sidestepped to the left to avoid his right fist, grabbing him under his arm by the shirt and pulling him straight into her and head butting him.
Dazed for a moment, he angrily ran at her and made to punch her again and kick her in the shins. As his leg went up, she avoided the blow and grabbed his leg. She pulled the leg up and foreword, causing him to lose his footing and fall onto his back. As he cried out in pain for that, she kept hold of his leg as she threw the weight of her body straight onto him, the impact emitting an audible crack. The man shrieked in agony for his broken limb, rolling on his side and reaching out for his leg as the Anthromorph girl sprang back onto her feet. She cast a quick, victorious and unnerving look of self gratification to him before turning her attention back to his companion. By this time, he had picked himself up and his knife, his nose bleeding from when she had hit him. Blood dripped from the hair around his mouth, still cringing in pain from the kick to the stomach.
“I’ll kill you, bitch!” he cried as he gripped the knife firmly and ran towards her. The girl took a fighting stance with her hands in front, drawing a sharp breath as she calculated her next move. The man with the knife snarled as he closed in, turning himself sideways as he reeled his arm back and threw it forward with all his might. The girl grabbed his arm with her hands with calculated efficiency, the knife glistening clearly in her eyes. The man with the goatee pushed his free hand against the back of his fist holding the knife to double his efforts, the very thing she had been waiting for.
He suddenly lurched forward with unexpected ease, the girl letting his weight carry the knife just far enough for her to grab hold of his hands and push the knife down towards him, sucking in her breath and the blade cleared her torso. He gasped in fear as she turned the knife towards him. He cried out as she twisted his arm under, her claw like thumbnails pressing into the veins of his wrist, his finger relinquishing the knife.
She took the knife into her right hand and stabbed him in the shoulder.
Panicked screams filled the alley as the cold steel embedded into his flesh, his shoulder soon bleeding down his arm. He was grabbed by the shirt and punched down onto the ground with a single blow. He withered painfully on the ground, his breathing becoming erratic. The girl stood there, looking down at him, her eyes devoid of any sympathy or regret. His eyes filled with tears of fear and pain as she marched over to his left, kneeling menacingly down beside him. She parked her knee across his chest, stopping him from moving and constricting his breathing.
“Please, please, don’t hurt me,” he pleaded through choking breaths. She rested her hand on top of her knee, applying more pressure to his chest. As his heart pounded with adrenaline as fear for his life reached its limit, she lowered her face down until she was very nearly touching his.
“Be glad you have the luxury of screaming,” she hissed, “That’s something you didn’t give her,” she snapped harshly, reaching over and pulling the knife from his shoulder and moving her knee of his chest, though she still remained kneeling above him. He cried out again, coarsely as he also struggled to regain his lost breath. His suffering was quickly numbed by a another punch to the face, knocking him out cold. With his body now limb, she emptied his pockets of everything he had, his cell phone, wallet, cigarette lighter, the drugs he had bought and a crack pipe, all of which she put in her pockets.She turned and left him there, walking over to his friend who was trying to crawl away with a broken leg. She heard his panicked gasps as he heard her approaching. She casually walked up and planted her foot on his back, holding him down.
“Please, please, no more, I don’t want to...” he said desperately. The girl did the same, emptied his pockets and found the same contents as his companion.
“I see you two think alike,” she remarked as she roughly turned him over, holding the blooded knife in her hand. She saw the fear in his eyes when he saw her with the knife; she kneeled down over him like she had with his companion. She held his arms down with her hand and knelt across his chest, her foot also holding down his other arm. He shook frightfully as the point of the blade touched his chin, the razor sharp tip leaving the tinniest red nick on his skin.
“Did you use this knife on her?” she asked, “Why? She was already mute. You two could probably have very easily overpowered her on your own, but it made you feel powerful seeing the fear in her eyes, didn’t it?”
“Who are you?!” he croaked out, sobbing. His sobbing intensified as the blade pushed forward just a touch, a trickle of blood running down his neck.
“Karma,” she replied icily, “What goes around, come around,”
The blade retracted automatically and she stood up. The man with the beanie lay where he was, watching her turn and take a few steps from him, staring at the knife in her hand bluntly. He regarded her actions with fearful suspicion; what did she plan on doing? Was the ordeal over or was she just beginning?
“I’d tell you it’s nothing personal,” she remarked, just before she turned back towards him and stamped him in the stomach, “But then I’d be lying,”
“Motherfucker!” the man cried out as he balled up in pain.
“Nice to meet you, too,” the Anthromorph girl remarked sardonically as she turned away, her tail swishing with her steps. She strolled over to the limp body of the dealer who had sold them the drugs. She kneeled and pulled two fingers to his neck. She felt a pulse, so he hadn’t died when she had choked him out with her legs, though she suspected he may have a broken bone or two from the fall. Not that it all mattered; how many families had been broken by the poison that he sold?
She did the same to him as the other two; emptied his pockets of their contents, unable to carry all of it in her own pockets, she carried them in her hands and walked to one of the open dumpsters. She threw them in, along with all the others, except for the lighter that she had taken from one of them. She took off the backpack she wore and unzipped a small bottle of lighter fluid from inside it. She casually poured the contents into the dumpster, particularly on the money and drugs. She threw the empty bottle in and then lit up the Zippo lighter that she had taken. She turned and looked back at the three men in the alley, the man in the beanie was still moaning in pain as he tried to crawl away, his companion and the dealer both out cold where she had left them. The razor sharp eyes shot to each of them methodically, regarding them with abhorrent distain. When she blinked, she may have felt some pity, until she remembered what they had been like and they had said before there little alleyway altercation.
Renamon threw the lighter over her shoulder and the inside of the dumpster became engulfed in flames. She picked up the backpack in one arm and strolled away.
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