FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Inspired by Mono Inc - Voices of doom

Start here - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0W-.....dZusjo&t=3

Here's my confession

My true belief

Look at me I am the living proof that end can mean relief

I'm gracious but there's something you should know

You have large shoes to fill

So welcome to my freakshow

Off on the edges of middle class suburbia, tucked ever so perfectly in a niche hidden just out of polite view lays the most delightful little brush wound. Split by a winding s shaped crick roughly a quarter mile long and capped with a single storm drain on either end. The low hanging trees and water foliage made a great place for anyone, be they a rapacious youngster, homeless wanderer, or simply an explorer of modern leftovers, to escape. Littered with remnants of junk crept over by bramble thorn vine and haven for blood sucking pests, this grassy nook stood longer than anything built around it, still existing today.

Low hanging branches broke against the path of bulky dragon, brush vine tearing holes in his jeans and black T. Dried dead sticks crackled under tan steel toes, his ruck sack catching on the end of a long fallen dead oak. Instead of fighting it, he simply let go as it wasn't far from his destination,

"Cool, hold that for me." Firing off paired finger guns as he stepped down one last dusty dirt steppe, landing a three foot fall into a rooted cup shaped pit. Peaking his head over the edge he was greeted with quite the familiar scene, a super sketch stepping stone path of busted concrete blocks dividing a small culvert fed pond. Just passed that lay his destination, a fire pit that had long since overgrown with watergrass.

"There you are." He growled, reaching back up to tug the bottom strap on his sack, immediately collapsing under the full weight of his hefty supply bag as it crashed down.

Setup was quicker than he'd thought, clearing long dug in plots of grass, a few pieces of junk and insect nests until only freshly turned dirt remained. Shortly after there was a pile of built up dead dry wood ready for a light, two fallen logs turned in on either side of the pit. Our dragon sat shirtless, tail hung off one of the logs, claws interlaced as thumbs twiddled. Eyes stuck on watching what little light did reach down, form the most beautiful rays of twilight dance and eventually wane.

Darkness chased off the light, and with one deep breath, light returned a bit more prominently accompanied by crackling wood. The dragon leaned in, cigarette held forward in his lips, one drag, two drags he pulled back a lit cherry. Chiefing sweet delicious cancer once again, he leaned back, tucking two fingers into a jean pocket retrieving an old physical polaroid. Sat where he was now upon a very similar log from left to right was a built bull, goth'd out ram, then a smaller male blue dragon tucked under his own wing. Under the photo were the written names,

"Will, Nikolai, Blu and Zeke." He read each name off, thumbing the photo in two claws, tossing it into the fire. Ezekiel finished his cigarette while marking the surrounding trees in appropriate rune signage, scattering personal effects around the area. Finishing setup tasks just as the last bits of light lept off, glinting off everything including a set of keys hung around his neck.

Sitting next to the pit, he began to meditate, disappearing within his mind to look around, up and down an alternate version of the area. Disappointed, he found it absolutely bereft of activity, astral, living, or otherwise.

"Hmm. It has been awhile, since I put on a show." Growling low and gruff in his own mind, pondering what all would attend should he put out a proper offering. Wandering thoughts did what they do and left, leaving Ezekiel to his vices, digging through his supplies to unearth and distribute various substances. Colored dirts and bits of various remains were either callously thrown about or meticulously placed. Adorning the immediate area or rubbed over his own scales until everything seemed right out of a voodoo cliche film. Topping it with a nice cherry, he slashed both wrists with opposing claws and flung strands of blood around on the various objects he'd placed, finishing by assuring that the unburned bits of polaroid were drizzled in sizzling red.

Satisfied in the scene, he set about picking a spot to stand, deciding on the cresting over hang just next to the fire. Stepping to the top he immediately looked down, seeing his reflection in a smooth glassy shade of pond scum green. He looked back up off into flickering darkness, his audience the dancing shadows amongst an otherwise silent creek.

Ezekiel stepped with one foot forward toward the very edge of his mound, arms and wings raised to each side at full extension. And with one deep breath,

"Sing to me~~~" Rising from the depths of his chest, unleashed a deep brassy voice that held and carried the tune easily. Letting his tone ring to every bit of brush and branch, he looked around for any sign of movement, nothing. Not even a passing gust or slight breeze, absolute shrill stillness,

"Sing to me~~~ All you voices of doom." He paused, arms held wide with ears perked, listening, waiting as he couldn't catch a thing

"Come O-" A large root burst it's way through is inner sphincter in one go, tapering quickly. Knots riddled the limbs core, as dry as the dirt they're bathed in, tearing their way through lengths of soft fleshy intestine easily. Ezekiel flinched, bending over in stance, face bent in an "hoh!", the knotted intruder beginning to soak and coil within his belly. Rooted tip splintering off into multitudes of smaller, more vascular systems while working their way up towards his chest cavity.

Locked in place, muddy streams of blood dripping down both rear flanks as more of the root continued its smooth effortless journey. The dragons body up-righting itself as a knot the size of a bowling ball pressed flush against a freshly bloodied scaly hole while a similar pressure built just beneath the dragons chest. Lifting him an even foot off the ground before the violating root twisted and snapped violently, sending a whip through the tree tendril popping the oversized knot into the dragon. Pelvis pulverized, his prostate smashed flat, forcing an erection as he was half crucified, hung by his rib cage and knotted pelvis. Simultaneously as the smaller more veiny roots slipped through the rib sack, encircling his heart and creeping through each rib.

Full weight of a built male body pressing a smashed grape, even more so as the limb thrusted him off the ground, assuring he was securely locked in. Ezekiel exhaled, the sheer ecstasy of his p spot obliterated had him showing full mast and leaking. Secured and tied up by his very bones . . . now that was snug, occasionally twitching as roots continued to weave themselves through ribs and surrounding scale. Held aloft, he was quickly becoming more tree than dragon, arms reaching out, with wings extended. Once more..

"Let your voices be heard, Come on! SING TO ME~~ ALL YOU VOICES OF DOOM!" Our writhing puppet sang against the very branches worming through him, words angering them into visible quakes. Song once more cut short as he was whipped backwards over one of the logs benches, lumbar splintering itself free from the rest of the spine. Our dragon let out a single half gagged cough, a good mix of more blood than air came forth. Zeke smiled, taking in what little of the moon he could see, umbilical leash pulling him up in broken pieces and swinging him violently. Like an abused newborn puppy on the leash of cruel owner, forcefully flung sideways into a near by tree, followed by several roller coaster style ground slams. Each impact smashing a little more dragon skeleton, precious organs fountaining fluids, slurry leaking freely from his torn anal cavity and perforated chest scales. The tree root slowly raising its dripping crushed mess and laying it to rest in the fire, scale and hair quickly taking on heat. Ezekiel couldn't do much more than chuckle, gurgling half cackles and outright bloody laughs while he burned.

Gently lifted out of place and raised back to a crest, his very bone crackled now as scale and hair burned, falling off as it pleased. Our crimson scaley now stood as a broken, burning half scarecrow, poised as a warning just at the side of the culvert. One claw made its way to his jaw, popping it back in place, with arms and wings outstretched ablaze he bellowed,

"Sing to me ~~~All you voices of doom, come on! Sing to me~~~ let your voices be heard! Come on! SING! SING! SING! For me!" The mighty root pulled again, side tossing him through the bonfire scattering chunks of burning wood and cinder every where. One final thump and Ezekiel lay motionless on his back, arms out to each side at odd angles, overall body a good mix of scorched exposed bone and cooking sinew. Eyelids splitting themselves just enough to take in a blurred visage of his old stomping ground beginning to burn. Zeke laid back, both eyes filled with busted blood vessels, yet half dazed he was still able to make out the shade of a blue figure standing over him. Firm scaled foot claws pressed themselves upon his larynx and crushed it in one smooth downward thrust. Ezekiel began to frantically choke on his own collapsed trachea, internal bleeding making it more of a drowning sensation.

"I was wondering . . when I'd see . . a familiar . . face." He managed to push out, charred scale of his snout moving freely over shattered bone. The figure standing over Zeke paused, watching as his face began reforming, his throat pressing itself back out.

"So it is true, you became a speaker." A voice he hadn't heard in nearly decades, addressed him. Zeke hacked up a bubble of bloody throat muscle,

"Hah, yup. Now . . we have . . eternity . . together." Fighting to cough each word against the ever constricting roots. The azure figure knelt over him, taking the dragons head by both ebony horns and holding it in their lap.

"Oh Ezekiel, you sweet, sweet fool. Speakers never pass on, we will be apart for all eternity." Words landing as a pebble in a lake, our blue figure raised a large rock over head. Ezekiel watching, managed to utter,

"This . . . is . . enough." Watching as the rock came down, letting darkness consume him.