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"It's really coming down out there," Darion said as he looked out the window at the falling snow.

Sasha peaked out from the kitchen, a packet of cocoa powder in her hands.

"I hope Milo is okay," she said while fighting to open the packet. "It's a long walk from Alex's house."

Darion nodded, straining his icy green eyes for any sign of his roommate amongst the frozen expanse.

The storm had intensified with the coming of night. Sheets of blinding snow fell in an unrelenting torrent and the scream of the wind pervaded all. Cars crept cautiously down the street, their headlights ghostly and strange.

"Maybe you should call him," Sasha said.

"He's fine," Darion reassured her. "He usually sticks around Alex's house for a little bit and if the snow was really too bad to walk in he'd let us know."

"It's not the snow I'm worried about."

Darion turned from the window and meandered toward the kitchen.

"Don't worry about cops," the fox reassured her. "The college is on winter break and there's a huge snow storm moving through, so they'll only have a few cruisers out tonight and they'll be spending all their time going between wrecks on the road. Besides, Milo and I have dealing weed for years and we've only come close to being caught once."

The tigress gritted her teeth and forced the plastic seal open, sending a third of the packet's contents into a brownish, grainy cloud.

"Too close for my liking," she said. "Hand me that whisk, please."

"The benefits outweigh the dangers," Darion replied, pulling the whisk from the tiny kitchen counter and handing it to her. "How do you think we pay rent?"

Sasha shrugged and began to whip the clumped powder and water into a semi-creamy mixture.

"As long as the cops don't come banging on our door, its fine with me."

Over the sound of the howling wind and pelting snow came a sudden thud from the upstairs apartment, followed by a series of loud footsteps on hard wood.

"God, our neighbors are loud," Darion said, glancing at the ceiling.

"I know," Sasha replied. "And it's always late at night. What the fuck are they doing up there?"

"Hell if I know. I've never even met them."

"I'm halfway tempted to go up there and tell them to keep it the fuck down."

"You and me both."

The hinges on the front door squealed as it opened and the sound of the storm came loud and unhindered. Snow coated the sleeves of Milo's jacket and the coyote's exposed hair and fur glistened with a thin icey coating.

"It's a winter hellscape out there," Milo shouted through chattering teeth.

"Did you get the stuff," Darion called back as Sasha began to spoon scalding hot cocoa into large cups.

"Of course I got the stuff," Milo said. "I wasn't about to trudge back through all that snow empty handed."

The soft tink of glass emanated from the red and blue bag slung over the coyote's shoulder.

"Here," he said, placing the bag on the couch with care. "Take a whiff. It's pretty good."

Trails of steam billowed from the cups as Darion and Sasha returned to the living room, careful to not step in the watery foot prints of Milo's boots. Unzipping the bag, he withdrew two mason jars of marijuana; one full of dark green buds covered in purple hairs, the other filled with light green shake frosted with THC.

"Alex just got it in," Milo said, handing Darion one of the jars.

Darion opened the lid and placed is snout directly inside, breathing in deeply. The smell was thick and pungent, overwhelming his nostrils.

"This is super dank," Darion said, a smile growing wide on his face.

"It's straight from California. Alex said that both these strains are the best he's ever smoked."

"We could charge another five or ten dollars for this. Enough for rent and what ever else we wanted."

The thud came as sudden as the first, followed by several pairs of loud, quickly moving footsteps

"Our neighbors keep some strange hours," Milo said.

"What are they doing up there," Sasha hissed.

"It sounds like they're moving furniture," Darion replied. "What else could they be doing?"

"Who moves furniture at ten at night?"

"I don't care what they do up there," Milo said. "As long as they stay out of our business, I'll stay out of there's."

The three took a seat on the long couch and Milo removed several moderately sized buds from both containers.

"I think we should sample some of this," he said. "For marketing research, of course."

"Of course," Darion replied, happily.

Reaching over the armrest in the somewhat narrow space between the couch and the wall, Milo removed his bong. It was made of black glass and small enough to be concealed in the pocket of your jacket. Running up the neck was a silver dragon and the bowl was a fiery red with swirling liquid inside.

"Can you pack it," Milo asked, handing it to Darion. "I'm going to find something for us to watch."

The weed was sticky between the fox's black tipped fingers. Methodically, he broke them up into small pieces and packed the bowl until it was near overflowing.

"You can take green hit," Milo said as he placed a movie into the player.

Cornering the bowl with his lighter, Darion breathed in deeply, feeling the hot smoke fill his lungs. Then he pulled the slide and cleared the bong, holding it until he began to feel his eyes water. A cloud of white smoke billowed from his snout, expanding as it traveled upward.

"That's really good," he said between ragged coughs.

He handed the bong to the coyote who repeated the same process as Darion, letting out an even larger cloud of smoke into the room.

"Here," he said, handing it to Sasha.

The tigress looked at it for a long moment, contemplating spending the rest of the night either stoned or sober.

"Sure," she finally decided, placing her still steaming drink on the small metal table beside her.

She took a conservative hit, letting the smoke stream out quickly through pursed lips.

"It's good," she said.

The bong passed between the three of them four more times before the bowl was finally ashed. The high came quickly, but it was not something Darion hadn't experienced before. It was mediocre at best.

"This is weed isn't what I'd thought it be," Darion said. "It's kind of weak."

"Just give it a second," Milo reassured him. "Alex says it comes on kind of slow."

"Slow," Darion repeated.

He was already pretty stoned, now that he thought about it. The fact that this was just leading up to the main high unsettled him a bit. He turned his attention back to the movie which was already ten minutes in and hadn't a clue what was going on. Focusing, he tried to catch up, but he quickly found himself distracted by the falling snow which glistened, lovely and beautiful against the brilliant orange of the street lamps.

Each breath came slow and his bloodshot eyes grew wide. He turned between his friends who had the same expression mirrored on their faces. Sasha, who thought she could stay somewhat sober by smoking only a little bit found herself gripped in a very emcompassing high. She gripped the arm rest while Milo sank deeper into the couch, completely absorbed in the movie.

It crashed over Darion abruptly and he found himself sitting still for over an hour and a half. The movie became a blur of random scenes and disjointed lines as his thoughts became inverted. Then he remembered the hot cocoa still in his hands; it had gone cold, but it went down his throat more delicious then ever.

"This is really good shit," Darion mumbled to himself, leaning back into the soft cushions of the couch.

Before he realized it the end credits were rolling across the screen and the fox was unsettled by the amount of time that slipped away from him.

"We can definitely charge extra for this," he said to a not so attentive Milo. "What do you think, Sasha?"

The tigress turned her crimson and gold eyes slowly toward Darion, her lips slightly parted as if in surprise of how high she was.

"Yeah," she answered softly.

"What does everyone want to watch now," Milo asked.

Darion shrugged.

"I'm fine with anything," he replied.

The thud from upstairs came louder than the previous ones, followed by lots of shouting and yelling.

"What the fuck is going on up there," Sasha snarled.

"It sounds like a fight," Milo said.

"I'm tired of this shit!"

Sasha abruptly got to her feet and bounded towards the door, sliding her feet quickly into her shoes."

"Where are you going," Darion asked.

"I'm going to go up there and tell them to shut the fuck up."

"No, Sasha," Milo protested. "Just sit here with us and watch another movie."

"Yeah," Darion agreed, his high disrubted by her negative vibrations. "Just stay here with us."

The shouting upstairs began to intensify, coming in clear through the floor boards.

"No," the tigress persisted. "I'm tired of listening to them. This has to stop."

There was a sharp scream followed by more shouting.

"I mean, just listen to them up--"

The sound was loud and piercing, like the pop of a firecracker and it made the three of them jump. Suddenly, another pop rang out and the shouting upstairs ceased. Finally, there was a third pop followed by the loud thud of dead weight hitting the floor.

A stunned silence gripped Darion and his roommates and the three of them were too afraid to move.

"Were those... gunshots," Milo said after a long time.

"I... I don't know," Sasha said, her fur on end. "I think... I think it was."

An immediate panic fell over everyone and cold beads of sweat began to form in Darion's crimson fur.

"What do we do," Darion said, making no attempt to hide the alarm in his voice.

"Maybe... maybe we should call the cops," Sasha proposed.

"No," Milo nearly shouted. "There's well over three ounces of pot here. We cannot have cops over here."

"There could be people hurt up there," Sasha said. "We've got to call someone!"

The situation did nothing to diminish Darion's high. If anything, it had grown more intense with the sudden surge of adrenaline coursing through his pounding heart.

"Maybe they weren't gunshots," Milo proposed.

"Then what were they," Sasha asked.

They were quiet for another long moment before Darion spoke up.

"I'll go up there," he said with a shaky voice. "I'll see if everyone's alright."

"Are you sure, Darion," Sasha asked, worriedly.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to sound confident.

The fox slipped on his shoes and a light jacket and grabbed the large kitchen knife for protection, just incase there really was a crazed gunmen still upstairs. Opening the door, the winter storm crashed against him, sending frigid chills down his spine. Hesitantly, he walked down the icy, snow covered steps with Sasha a Milo following closely behind. The blowing snow stung his face as he walked around the house to the wooden stairs that led to the upstairs apartment.

"Wait here," Darion yelled over the wind.

Step by step he went, holding the razor sharp knife in the pocket of his coat, fighting as hard as he could to sober up.

"Hello," he yelled, pounding on the front door. "Is anyone in there?"

He gripped the doorknob and found that it was unlocked. He opened the door and peaked his head inside.

"Hello," he said again, quieter.

The lights in the apartment were off, but the orange haze of the street lamps beamed through the windows, providing enough light to see. The living room was set up just like theirs with a couch against the wall and an old television set on a stand in the middle of the room.

"Hello," Darion repeated, moving farther into the apartment.

The air smelled musky and stale and a thick layer of dust covered everything. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for years.

"We heard a noise downstairs and we were just seeing if everyone was alright."

Large, dark stains clotted the light blue carpet and Darion made it a point not to step in them.

"Is there anyone here?"

He tried a light switch, but found there was no power. By this time, Darion was unnerved and was quickly becoming paranoid.

"We were just--"

A crouching figure by the hallway caught his attention and the fox yelped and drew quickly back in surprise. The figure was a male fox with orange fur and yellow hair with his face concealed by folded arms.

"I... I'm sorry," Darion stuttered. "We heard a noise and we were just..."

Darion trailed off as the other fox lifted his head. His eyes were milky white and his face sagged a bit despite his young looking form.

"I... I..."

The orange fox opened his mouth impossibly wide, seeming to unhinge, and the sound of a dozen horrible, screaming voices reverberated out.

Darion screamed as loud as he could and bounded out of the house, slamming the door as hard as he could behind him. He lunged down the steps, passed Milo and Sasha and ran out into the street, slipping on the ice beneath the snow and falling flat on his face.

"Darion," Sasha yelled, running to his aid. "What is it?"

He began to ramble and stutter incoherently as they pulled him to his feet. His eyes were wide and weird and blood trickled from his nose.

"Darion," Milo shouted. "What happened!? What did you see!?"

"I--I-- I don't know."

* * *

When the last of the snow had finally melted, the landlady came to their door.

"I'm here to check your water heater," she said.

Sasha was at work and Milo was out trying to move his product so Darion was the only one in the house. As the panther chipped away at the calcium build up on the pipes, the fox decided to ask her a question.

"Who lives upstairs," Darion asked.

"No one," she answered simply, not looking up from her work. "There hasn't been anyone living up there in years."

Darion's eyes grew wide.

"There was a couple of tenants living upstairs back in the 80's, long before I bought this rental company."

"What happened to them."

This time she did look up.

"One of them killed the other two," she answered. "They say it was over drugs, but who can say for sure? The killer took his own life so the police didn't know what the motive really was."

Darion didn't respond. He just stood there, quietly.

"Very loud too, from what I hear."

"What?"

"I said they were loud," the land lady repeated. "Always stomping everywhere they went. It could have driven the downstairs tenants insane."