FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

-Sarah-

I got up the same as I usually do I guess. My cartoon style alarm clock woke me up at 7:00 with its silly singing in the morning just like it does every day of the week, as I had to get up in time to get ready for school. I rubbed my eyes as my alarm clock stopped ringing and sat up in bed while eyes started to clear up, as I always see blurry first thing in the morning. My room is a nice room: warm yellow wallpaper with black bird and tree shapes going up and down on it, a queen sized bed with sky blue covers and pillows, and similar carpets on the floor. Just what you'd expect from a little girl's room that's been decorated by a mom, I guess.

I also had a stereo system that my dad had bought for me for my birthday this year, so that I could listen to music while I was doing my homework. There were toys still scattered all over the floor that I hadn't remembered to clean up last night, but I only found out when I pulled the covers off of me and stepped out of bed; I accidentally stepped on my stuffed German Sheppard plushie. I quickly picked him up and rubbed his head to make it better though, and I tucked him up in bed where I had been sleeping so that he could rest and get better if I had hurt him. I made sure to creep quietly to the door so I didn't wake him up, opened and then closed the door behind me as I stepped out onto the landing. In the morning I was almost always the first one up as my mom and dad worked during the day but didn't have to go to work until later.

Oh sorry, I haven't told you who I am yet. My name is Sarah Whitetail. I'm 9 years old and I'm currently learning at primary school. I have friends who sometimes like to play with me when we have all got our homework done, but because we are doing science a lot of the time, we get a lot of homework. I'm about 4 feet tall at the moment, and I'm a girl arctic wolf puppy, with an average build, green eyes, slim hips, and platinum coloured hair that went just past my shoulders which I keep in a ponytail most of the time with a black bow. The teachers at school say that I'm a good girl that follows the rules, but my dad sometimes calls me 'his cute little terror'. I don't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing.

I finished cleaning my teeth and had a quick shower making sure to wash all the way down through my thick white fur and behind my ears, then went back to my room to put my school clothes on, after I had dried my fur as best I could with one of the big towels in the bathroom. While I was getting dressed, I could hear mom and dad getting up and going downstairs to make breakfast. They usually make me buttered toast in the morning to go with my cereal, and I always ask if I can have orange flavour jam. I started to go faster as I was getting changed, because I wanted to be able to eat breakfast while my parents were still downstairs instead of upstairs getting ready for work.

Taking my time so that I didn't trip, I went downstairs to say hello to them, and they were making me my breakfast already, with mom getting my cereal while my dad worked the toaster. My dad gave me a big hug when I walked into the room; he smelled like aftershave and shampoo, as well as coffee. Like me he was an Arctic wolf and stood about 5 ft 9 inches tall not including his ears; he was quite handsome and in good shape for his age of 32, as some of the older girls in my class had told me they secretly had a crush on him. He was only wearing his boxer shorts and his dressing gown at this time in the morning, and his long fluffy white tail wagged happily behind him as he smiled down at me.

After he was done hugging me, he picked up gently and put me down on my chair without creasing my dress. School uniform was a small black dress, a matching black blazer, white button-up shirt, white socks, black shoes and a green tie. The green tie sometimes gets uncomfortable during the summer when the weather is hot, but I like the socks because they're nice and soft on my paw-pads, and my long-ish hair goes well with the blazer.

Breakfast was really tasty, as mom had got me some of my favourite cereal the day before, the kind that has raisins in so you get chewy bits and crunchy bits and the milk in the bowl tastes really nice when you drink it after you've already eaten the cereal. I really liked the toast too because dad made sure to put it in the toaster for just the right amount of time so that it went nice and brown without any burnt black bits appearing. I really liked mornings because they always felt like something that we did together, even if we weren't going out together and it happened all the time. With both my parents working I didn't see them when I came home from school, so it was always nice for them to be there when I woke up.

Mom then sat down across from me to eat her cereal as well, flashing a warm smile at me before she started to dig in. She was actually an arctic fox rather than an arctic wolf, but her fur was almost the same as my dad's; white as snow and soft a silk, her fur was slightly longer overall than my dad's. And whereas my dad stayed white all year long, my mom's fur was only white during the winter months, and changed to a pitch black colour during summer. She met my dad when he came around to her college on a trip that was being done by his science department; mom's college had some of the best science equipment in the country, and occasionally they had other colleges come and visit in order to show their students experiments that could only be done there. I once asked mom if they had fallen in love during the day that they first met, but she had giggled and replied that they had fallen in love the first night that they were together. When I asked what she meant by that, she said I'd understand when I was older. My best guess is that he took her to see a really good movie and managed to kiss her at the right moment.

I looked up at the clock and it really surprised me when I saw that it was only a few minutes away from the bus arriving at the bus stop. I got up and put my empty plate and bowl next to the sink like I had been taught, then quickly went into the hallway to collect my bag, making sure I had the right schoolbooks when I found it. Even as I started picking up by school bag my mum and dad were already giving me the 'be good and stay safe' speech I always get when I leave the house.

"Are you sure that you have everything dear?"

"Yes mum."

"Your lunch?"

"Yes mum."

"Your homework?"

"Yes mum"

"The right books for today?"

"Yes mum"

"And what about your phone Sarah?" my dad asked.

I was a bit embarrassed at this; I had lost it last night and didn't know where to find it. I didn't want to tell them when I came home because they were snuggled up watching TV together, and they take me out to nice restaurants when I've got a good report at school, so thought it was only fair to leave them be.

I was about to own up and tell him I'd lost it when he held his hand out in front of me, my phone resting neatly in the centre of his palm. He grinned knowingly at me as I took it from him and put it in my inside blazer pocket giving me a cheeky wink.

"Don't worry sweetie, you put it back where it should be. I just put it on charge for you overnight"

I hugged dad as a thanks for helping me out again, but then I really had to leave or I was going to miss the bus. I remember I waved to both of them as I reached the door, and they were both still waving back as I closed the door behind me and made my way to the bus stop. I still had no idea what my day was going to be like, so I was looking forward to it. Looking back at it now it seems so strange that I was so upbeat in the morning. That definitely changed later on.

-Michael Fortimus-

I walked away from the now lifeless body of a 34 year old male tabby cat, not the least bit sympathetic of the man I just killed. There was no blood dripping onto the surface of the alleyway, no red stain to mix in with the spilt beers and used condoms that I knew were hidden amongst the broken boxes, and even the sun neglected to shine on the limp figure, it's rays obscured by the tall buildings that formed the walls of the alleyway.

He always walked the same path of his way to work: out of his house, across two road crossings when the lights changed and then through a narrow alleyway to save time before arriving at his workplace, a small cafe that sold stuff like cheap sandwiches, bagels, doughnuts and of course burgers. The alleyway was out of sight of the main street and made for a perfect ambush point, but there wasn't a history of crime in this region, with the exception of my own work, so there was no reason for him to change his routine.

I always research my prey before I make the kill. There's no point in killing innocent people, as they have no reason why they should die more than anyone else and they have enough to worry about in the current world; I kill the scum of the earth known as habitual criminals, re-offenders that never learn and that the police force don't have the balls to put down like the mangy dogs they are. This particular man was a blackmailer, he'd been black mailing his roommate with photos of him having sexual intercourse with one of his co-workers during a break, but at the same time he was also blackmailing the boss of his roommate with files that he had hacked from the company's computer network, which contained all the details of their financial status. Not content with ruining the life of the person he lived with, he was putting the jobs of hundreds of people in jeopardy for his own gain. I had gone further into his personal data and discovered he was earning a considerable amount of money without these blackmailing schemes, and he was just going for more.

I had followed him by walking a few metres ahead of him on his usual journey path, stopping him from suspecting me at all by not technically 'following' him. He only ever looked behind him if he thought he was being watched. Once he was inside the dark brown confines of the alleyway, I had quickly closed the distance and stabbed a small syrette gun (a syringe but that had a trigger mechanism to force its contents into the body rather than having to use your thumb, invented ironically to help save lives by preventing overdoses) into his neck. He didn't even have to have time to call for help before the powerful toxin was coursing through his veins, but I still covered his mouth with my paw just to be sure. There's always a small thrill I get when a feel a man's dying breath pass through my fingers, like I'm robbing them of their final moments.

His eyes had gone wide at first as you expect, but within seconds his limbs started shaking, his eyes turned unfocused and glazed, and by the time I counted to ten he collapsed onto the floor a shivering, choking wreck.

What had I used to kill him?

Spider venom.

Black widow venom to be precise.

Sounds far-fetched I know, but it's actually easy for me to make as I studied for years when I was at university on how spiders produce venom naturally, and I found a way to make it in large amounts by effectively making hundreds of thousands of the cells that produce them. This of course was years before I became a man of vengeance, but old knowledge really does pay off in the end. By concentrating it I could accelerate the effects of the poison so that I could kill a full grown man in less than 3 minutes. Why go to all this trouble? It's a very distressing and painful way to die, and I enjoy knowing that karma had come back to bite these people after so long an absence. It also means that due to the minute hole that's made by the syrette gun, which heals very quickly, I can make deaths look very natural due to the poison being produced by spiders which did live in the city, meaning they are often pushed aside by investigation teams and not even considered to be a case of homicide.

The police know what I do though, as I left them a note on a previous victim of mine, just as I left the evidence of his blackmailing inside this man's jacket pocket for them to find. Whether they want to stop me or not is of little relevance; because I leave no finger prints, and I make sure to clear the scene of any signs of me being there, they are constantly confronted by what looks like death from a spider bite and with there being no evidence to go on, they can't apply for a full investigation into me yet. I've prepared for when that happens though, as I've already bugged their entire network with spyware; how do you think I know they are investigating me already?

Stepping out of the alley and onto the pavement, the bright glare of the sun caused me to squint even behind my dark sunglasses. For the record, I am a skunk anthromorph, and I am a big son-of-a-bitch: 6 feet 4 inches not taking my ears into account, broad shoulders, black and white fur pattern that's fairly typical of most skunks, completely white face with a fairly good-looking arrangement even if I do say so myself, dark red eyes, long and striped furry tail, eight-pack stomach, biceps like watermelons and thighs and calves that were as hard as steel. Could I be bragging? Not likely, as I trained practically every free hour I got, and I'd practiced with martial artists from every town that I passed through so far, and I'd never met one that could beat me yet, no matter their species. My black hair was kept just at chin length with my fringe cut short so I can see clearly, although I planned to grow my hair longer very soon, and I kept sideburns that met in the middle in a 'chin-strap' sort of fashion.

I had chosen my attire carefully that day. There was a meeting going on at an office two blocks over, and workers of all standing in the business were being called in to discuss what was going to happen to the arrangements for some upcoming major event, but a lot of these were coming from other cities nearby. Being in this sharp business suit complete with a matching briefcase was the perfect disguise, as people would not recognise me, but more importantly they wouldn't be expecting to recognize me, so wouldn't stop and question me.

I only needed to wear it until I reached where I hid my next disguise, which was on the third floor of a building three blocks over, concealed inside a computer monitor. Why did I put it in such an awkward place? I would be off the main street, and would re-appear just as the body was discovered if I was lucky, removing me from the immediate area around the crime scene. If I didn't get there in time, then I would mingle with the other workers before I made for my disguise, giving me a plausible alibi.

Security camera's didn't bother me, I had a small device in my pocket which meant that whenever a camera looked at me it's screen buzzed instantly for a second before returning to normal, but with my facial features now completely blurred along with everyone else. This was a piece of software I had developed when I had gotten sick of getting speeding tickets years ago, but it still paid it's way even now.

The benefits of viral software can be truly staggering sometimes, but I wouldn't recommend using it; the temptation to twist it to your own financial ends is too great for most people, even with good natures the opportunity to get money for nothing is simply too overpowering. If I wanted to, I could effectively clone the money stored in every major bank in the world and then store it in my own private account, effectively making me, one man, richer than the entire alliance of the united civilisation of furred nations (UCFN) formed after the last world war. This is why I have never allowed anyone else to use the same software that I use, considering that I wrote the programming codes myself; when all is said and done, when consequences and punishment for your actions are removed, people have a tendency to become monsters. Just look at the internet, and then try telling me I'm wrong.

There was a gentle breeze that day, but I couldn't really feel it past the discordant symphony of feet and shoes on the sidewalk, voices being shouted into telephones, blaring car horns and cheesy commercials from TV's in the windows of shops as I past them. The air reeked of car exhaust, downmarket deodorant and fast food, and while I was glad for the tall buildings of the city shading me from the sun somewhat because of my mostly black fur, I grew up in the country and learnt my trade in the country, and that was where I intended to die. Cities never really mixed with me well compared to fields and rural areas where everybody relied on each other. At least then there was a sense of sticking up for each other.

Rather than dwelling on how much I hated my surroundings, I re-focussed on my next target.

John Munroe: a convicted arsonist that was responsible for the death of his ex-girlfriend, but had been released 3 years early due to a substantial amount of money being offered for bail. I knew from placing a listening device in his t-shirt that he planned to do the same to office where his girlfriend had worked. There were some special plans that I had made for him, and I intended to enjoy every agonising moment of his death when I watched the life drain from his eyes. He would die in the same manner that his victims had died, screaming out for help while trapped in a burning building.

It was almost erotic when I heard the scream from far behind me, a shrill call of 'Murder! Murder!', signalling that my mess had been found. I turned with just as much surprise and intrigue on my face as everyone else, playing my part as I had done countless dozens of times before now. Being in this game as long as I had, I still had to stop myself from smiling as everybody fell for the same trick once again, not a single glance being made at me as people rushed to see what was happening.

Sometimes I wonder if a pre-teenage girl would have more chance of earning my respect than the general public, at least they cleaned up after themselves. Certainly as the hordes of people drawn in by curiosity rather than the desire to help passed me by in the street, I felt what little respect I had for these people drain away as I heard the mutterings of "It's not someone we know, so why bother?" and "Probably just some bum decided to mug a guy a few shots out of his league". Society is a cancer upon the earth, plain and simple, and these official business suits that I have so often been forced to wear, such as now, are nothing but the visible capitalist symptoms of it.

I decided to follow suit with the other people around me that were also heading to the office meeting, and started walking away hurriedly, looking at my watch for the sheer effect of it, as all the other guys in suits were doing it. My expression as every was blank, leaving everyone else who looked at me guessing, but everyone was having mixed opinions on who or what had just killed my latest victim, so they didn't really care. In fact, I noticed a shapely female Gazelle in a sharp suit that had to have been 'dry clean only', and a matching short skirt walking about 4 metres in front of me. I kept my eyes straight forwards, but being a man who regularly kills for his pleasure, I had learnt long ago how to see clearly using the edges of my vision.

The woman was about 25 to 27 years old I would say; even though her curled horns and wavy brown hair were a sight, it was clear to see why she had been chosen for the meeting, those reasons being her small but very shapely ass and her ample breasts which bounced enticingly within her shirt as she walked. She was what we professionals call a 'cock decoy', and you'd be quite surprised how often it works; just remember that a lot of men in these offices spend more time away from their wives and partners than they might like, and a stunner all of a sudden walking in a throwing saucy innuendos their way would send their mind elsewhere with hardly any effort whatsoever if they weren't very careful. What interested me was that she was eyeing me up, and making no secret of it to me, flashing me a sultry wink and a flick of her brown tail before she turned back to face forwards with her high heel shoes clicking on the stone sidewalk.

She was a slut, no doubt about it. What kind of woman flirts with a guy nearly twice their size in broad daylight, just after the shout has gone up that someone has been murdered, and it would be easy for me to pull her to the side with everybody's attention elsewhere? She certainly wasn't a killer like me, as I quickly used a small thermal scan on my watch to be sure; basically is silently takes a picture, and then when I next hold my watch up to my face, the digital dial is replaced with the image, and she showed no weapons of any kind on her, not even pepper spray. Whatever, if we went to the same building then I'd call her to one side, try and seduce her and with any luck I'd get a good fuck out of her before my next target. After that she could come to terms with being a slut when she found out I didn't exist on any company records, and there was no money she could get from me after that, not even a drink in a night club.

Let me get one thing straight, I'm not a rapist. She'd come to me, with a bit of incentive from me, not the other way round. I'll make no attempt to say I'm a hero or the perfect man, because I'm not. I bludgeon, impale, poison, burn, skin, carve-up, shoot, mangle, maim and drown the people I hate without regret or remorse, which makes me an evil man however you look at it; my only excuse is that I do this because there are a small group of people out there called decent people, the guys who do their best for the people they love and work hard for what they have while not trying to steal it from anybody else. These people are being savagely attacked by the bastards that society supports and nurtures in the name of commerce, or people that think that stealing or leeching is a better option than putting any real effort in. I don't agree with that, and seeing as the police are trying their best but are still being paid by some of these bastards, I take matters into my own hands. Whatever you want to call me, anarchist, monster, degenerate, I don't care, because you won't stop me with words.

What the hell, I thought. I was ahead of time and I had managed to get all my equipment for the next stage of today's events stored where they were needed. I had more than enough time to head around to my next point of interest even if I did hang around for half an hour. Why not take a short break? It would allow me to double check that I had covered my tracks by hacking into the police radio frequency if nothing else. Getting free bit of fun on the side was an added bonus.

Now hopes and expectations were never things that I truly cared for, even before I became this I was the cynical type, but boy was I in for a shock when things went tits up later on that day. Now that I think back on it, I really needed that break. If things had gone any worse for me that day, I don't think that I'd be here to tell the tale in all honesty; things were about to get rough, and I don't mean when the gazelle lady's panties came down.

-Sarah-

School was really cool, because our science teacher, a kind raccoon by the name of Mr Trench, had showed us all an experiment where he could make a liquid that glowed in the dark. He even poured some of it into little flasks that he put on each desk for us to see, then showed us all how to make is as well, so long as we were very careful with the ingredients. I really liked the cool science experiments that we did, even if we were still a bit too young to understand exactly how they worked. We are just starting to learn about things called atoms at the moment, and how everything on Earth is made up of them, even people. It all sounds really interesting to me, but at the same time I don't like my English classes, as they always sound very boring.

I was going back home on the school bus talking with my friends for the moment. It was still about the middle of the afternoon, so it hadn't gotten dark yet. I was sitting next to my best friend Lucy, who was a red fox vixen the same age as me. She had medium length ginger hair which she kept back in a ponytail, was slightly taller than me, and had black fur on her hands and feet which made it look kind of like she was wearing socks on them all the time. We were both still wearing the school uniform with our tails poking out of the back through special holes designed for them, but we had different school bags. Mine was white just like my fur, but hers was navy blue. We met each other when we first started and became friends very quickly. She likes video games, playing in park with me when we go there, and reading science fiction books. I can remember that we were sitting quite close to the front of the bus as we managed to get on before most other people got there.

To be honest, I can't really remember much of what we talked about; we were both tired from the first school day of the week and wanted to get home and rest, even though we were both still very happy to see each other. My stop is always before Lucy's on the school bus, so I got off before she did the same as usual. She gave me a wave through the window as I stepped out onto the sidewalk and started walking back to my house, which I returned as I watched the bus drive off.

The school bus pulled away with the loud sound of its engine trying really hard to move the bus along, even though its engine was electric. It felt nice and cool outside in the fresh air, as there had been a lot of people on the bus today making it really humid in there. There was gentle breeze which ruffled my fur a bit, but nothing that would make me want to brush it out later. I could smell freshly cut grass, and somewhere close by there was a barbeque that I couldn't see (which made my stomach grumble as I was hungry after school). The only sounds that came to me were my shoes on the sidewalk and some birds chirping in the trees; I'm not sure what they were called but they were small, brown, and had a cute high pitched call that they made to one another.

It's a 5 minute walk from my house to the bus stop, and the neighbours are nice people who say hello to me as I walk past in the morning. But at that moment the only neighbour who was outside was in his back garden mowing his lawn, as I saw him walking up and down while wearing gardening gloves as I past his house. He was an old golden retriever who lived on his own since his wife passed away a few years ago. My dad said that he was 'a nice, polite man to talk to, but he prefers to be alone these days'. Dad had also told me that he didn't have any children of his own, which made me slightly sad as he wouldn't have anybody to play with if he got bored.

Pretty soon I was at my front door, and used the key that mom and dad gave me to unlock the door and let myself back inside, making sure to lock the door again behind me like I'd been told to. We live in a very nice area, but mom and dad tell me that it's better to not take any chances. Going straight to the kitchen, I opened the fridge and got out some ham and butter so that I could make a ham sandwich, going over to the cupboard next to the fridge to get some white bread as well. I didn't have any problems reaching it as it's the cupboard that's on the floor level so that I can get to it easily. Only the stuff for grown-ups, which mom and dad call alcohol is put in the very high cupboards, but I never try to get it because I don't want to upset them, and they let me try some once and it tasted awful.

After a few minutes I was sat down in the living room, eating my sandwich and watching the after-school cartoons; I really liked the transformers one because then I could watch all my favourite cars and planes turn into giant robots that fought to protect the world. How cool is that! It was close to the end of the series as well, so the episodes were a lot more exciting than normal too. I must have been sitting there for at least an hour, because by the time I looked at the clock on the mantle-piece it was about 5:00pm on the digital dial.

I put my dirty plate by the sink the same as I had done in the morning and then turned off the TV and went upstairs to my room, but I put the butter, ham and bread back in the cupboards before I did. I had to make a start on my homework or I wouldn't be able to hand it in on time. There wasn't that much to do and I could easily get it all done for the rest of the week if I worked hard tonight.

As I was getting the homework out of my bag, I heard the lock in the front door being turned, followed by the sound of the door being opened and closed about a second later. The front door always makes a different sound to any of the other doors in the house because of the storm door behind it, which is there in case we have very bad weather.

I thought that either mom or dad had come home early to see how I was doing, so I ran out of my room to go and meet them, and I was halfway down the stairs when I looked up and saw a scary man I didn't recognise. He was a cat, what species I'm not sure, but he had patchy fur with shades of white, black, grey and in some places brown, all over him. He had very short hair that was spiky in all directions, average build and was wearing tracksuit pants with a hole for his tail and a tracksuit top with a hood attached to it; he looked to be about the same age as my dad, but his smile wasn't like my dad's. When my dad smiled it made me feel happy and wanted, but the way this man smiled made me feel very scared. His eyes narrowed and he showed a lot of his teeth when he smiled at me, and he seemed to be staring at my body for some reason.

"Who are you?" I shouted, "Do you know my mom and dad?"

But instead of answering, he grinned even wider and ran right at me. I tried to scream, but just as I started to breathe out he grabbed my muzzle roughly in his hand and stopped my mouth from opening. He pulled my hair roughly with his other hand which really hurt, dragging me back up the stairs while keeping my mouth covered. I tried to hit him to make him let go, but he just ignored me like I wasn't there, going to the door of each room and looking inside before he found my room and dragged me in behind him.

By then I was crying; his hand pulling my hair really hurt badly, and it felt like some of it was going to come out, and there was no-one here to stop him from hurting me. Not dad, not mom, not aunty June, not anybody. What had I done to deserve that when I hadn't even met him before? He slammed me down on my bed and removed his hand from my mouth; gripping my throat tightly and making me cough as he brought his face right up to mine. He smelt strongly of sweat and body odour, like he hadn't washed for days and his teeth were a dark yellow. His green eyes are what I remember most though; they terrified me the way they seemed to burrow deep into me without permission, demanding my obedience without earning it. I was scared. I couldn't move. I couldn't escape. And then he spoke to me.

"Open your legs you pathetic little slut. I'm going to fuck your little pussy as roughly as I like, and you are going to keep quiet or I am going to fucking kill you. Do you understand this, little girl?"

I had no idea what a slut was, or what he meant by 'fuck' although I knew it was a very rude word. His hand on my neck really hurt me though, and I just hoped that if I did what he said that he would go away and leave me alone again. I spread my legs apart just like he asked, but I was horrified when he started running his hand over my panties; that was my private place where mom and dad told me never to let anyone touch without my permission, and I didn't like anyone looking at me down there or touching me there. It felt horrible that I was doing something they had told me not to, and I wanted to cry so badly now that I felt like I was a bad girl, even after mom and dad tried so hard for me. I could just imagine how cross they would be with me that he had touched me there, even though I didn't want him to, and I didn't say that he could. It felt strange as he moved his hand over me and started pressing down on me, but I didn't enjoy it at all because I just wanted him to leave.

I held my breath as I felt him start to slip his hand inside my panties, terrified of what he was going to do to me next, but at that exact moment, the window to my bedroom smashed.

-Michael Fortimus-

That gazelle bitch had been quite entertaining, all in all. I was expecting her to be the kind that liked it rough, after all she'd flirted with a big guy like me, but I wasn't expecting her to be the type to let me take her up the ass on the first time we met. I was still slightly impressed that she managed to take my entire length up her tail hole, and even let me blow my load in there without complaint. Little wonders never cease. I had given her a 'thank you' and that I hoped to 'see her around' before I had left her a few hours before I arrived in the neighbourhood I was walking through at about 5:00pm. Another thing you should know about me is that I regularly practice speaking in different accents from all over the world, making it virtually impossible for people to see me as an 'outsider', and even harder for them to place where I have come from. Rule one of deception: no matter what kind of people you are trying to infiltrate, they will always least suspect one of their own, because they feel that they know them.

I was taking a nice easy walk through what looked to be a very nice housing estate, dressed in casual attire now rather than that business suit that made me itch all the time I wore it. Need more than that? Okay, I was wearing blue denim jeans, white trainers, a white t-shirt with the logo of a local heavy metal band (definitely still unsigned at the moment, but I had high expectations for them) on it, and a backpack slung over my shoulders with the rest of my 'supplies' contained within.

To anyone looking my way I was just another guy walking to the bus stop, but just as I planned, almost everyone was out at work at the moment, and the others were at school, college, or some other form of education/entertainment. The only exceptions were an old retired couple that were now a good few hundred metres behind me and heading the other way on their daily walk back from getting their lunch, and one man that was now doing some weeding in his back garden while wearing a set of headphones in his ears (looked to be a golden retriever, I noticed a wedding ring when he took one of his gloves off, but from the look of his house through the windows, a woman hadn't lived there in a while. I suspected he was a widowed man, as men that willingly leave their wives tend to want to forget them rather than remember them).

All the houses looked the same as I passed them: two storeys, small front balcony, white paintjob, storm doors, and from the look of it they were all fairly new considering the state of the art environment control systems attached to the side of each house in the form of a large box shaped unit in the same colour as the house. Invented in the last 20 years, they allowed all things such as humidity, temperature, and even the amount of air movement (artificial wind) to be set and maintained within each house. They had to be routed throughout the entire building though, as they acted as both heaters and air conditioners, and it was a very expensive job. The people there must be doing well for themselves if they were able to live in a brand new development like this and still afford the expensive looking cars that I'd seen on people's drives.

I had noticed some children's toys lying on front lawns which made me smile; I liked children, so innocently minded and full of energy, never worrying about a tax bill or thinking about how to kill off a rival or mount a political coup de tat. Just focusing on what was for dinner, how they could build a bigger sandcastle, or get past the next level on some amazing new game that had just come out.

In some ways, it was the children of the world that I was trying to protect with what I did. Sure you got the occasional brat (sadly more often in recent years), and once they reached a certain age you could see the poison of the world starting to show (ever earlier all the time), but for a brief while they emitted a sort of serenity that we, as adults, seem to spend the rest of our lives searching for. Sometimes when I'm not out nailing some dipshit's hands to a wall, I'd take the time to put some small bit of effort into a local children's charity once in a while.

Like I said before, don't give me your pity, I don't fucking need it, and remember I've killed teenagers, parents, even teenage parents before now, so don't think that I'm picky about my targets. I just like to give something back once in a while considering I'm taking so many lives that can't be replaced; nobody's completely without a heart, and I know that some problems can't be solved by bumping off a guy who might be causing them. Sometimes little things like filling up the charity's cars and/or buses with extra petrol while they are asleep, other times I'd make a bigger contribution like taking a large sum of money from a company I knew was shafting somebody, and donating it under a false name to them. It depended how I felt, or how feasible it was at the time. I am a busy man remember.

I was mulling over these facts in my head when I spotted one guy who was very out of place for the area. He looked like a street CHAV ( c ouncil h oused a nd v iolent for those of you who don't know), and looking at his face I realised that I had actually bumped into him before now, although he wasn't aware of it. He was wearing the usual tracksuit clown outfit that was a size too big that you expect of these young idiots, just as he was the last time we met, and I swear that the feline hadn't been within a mile of a comb or a bottle of shampoo since then either.

He had broken into a small supermarket after hours, wanting to get at the booze, as any alcoholic like him would. He looked old, but he was actually only 23, which I found out later when I took his wallet while he was sleeping in his flat; the lifestyle he lead of getting drunk as often a possible was taking its toll on his body, with a lot of his hairs losing their shine already, and his mind was finding it harder and harder to shake off the haze that he plunged it into with each new bottle that he drank down. He had managed to get past the security doors without tripping off any alarms, somehow managing to swipe one of the shop worker's entry cards earlier that same day. What he hadn't realized was that I was already inside the building when he got there, having decided to place the body of a local drug dealer in the storage cooler since he'd been threatening the staff here. Call it a morbid joke that gave me a giggle when I left him there, dead from an overdose of his own produce of 'dry snow', not of his own will of course.

I'd seen this dozy prick just waltz up and start humming some modern day hit single to himself, popping bottle after bottle of high proof drink into a shopping basket. He was so out of it that I was able to just slowly walk down the aisle along from him, making sure to keep my footsteps quiet as I made for the doors. Just as I reached them, I cut through the wire that triggered the in-store alarm with a knife I was carrying, instantly sending the siren wailing; the buffoon jumped nearly out of his own fur, and sent every bottle he'd collected crashing onto the floor one after another, every single one of them smashing on the hard plastic tiles before he made a run for it, using every swear word he could think of as he did. He didn't see me even once the entire time I was there, not even when he ran right past me as I was hiding behind a dumpster, but I was laughing like a drain at him for days.

This same feline was currently fiddling around with the lock on the front door of one of the houses, being sure to look left and right as he did so, but the sun was in his eyes from my direction, so he didn't see me coming at first. From a distance it looked like he was using a set of keys, but I could tell from the small plastic handle showing between his fingers that he was actually using a small knife to pry off the lock. As always I acted indifferently, not allowing my eyes to linger on him. He straightened up and started to feel about in his pockets as if he'd lost his keys as I approached.

What an amateur; the least he could have done was jingle some coins in his hand so it 'sounded' a little bit like he was holding some keys. I just walked on past, not looking back as I heard him open the door. He was a small time thief, and most likely he was just looking for some extra money, or was going to try and find some more alcohol. The police are much better at dealing with misguided youngsters than I am, as I send to scare the living shit out of them as a therapy, but then they end up having nightmares for ages. There wasn't a car on the drive either, so it wasn't like anybody could get hurt, so why should I have bothered? I would drop off some money to cover the cost of what he stole once the police report was finalized on their supposedly 'secure' network.

Three seconds later I heard a shout from behind me.

"Who are you? Do you know my mom and dad?"

I froze in place, feeling the blood drain from my cheeks. My hearing was much better than the now extinct race known as humans, but some part of me wished it wasn't as it dawned on me just who had said that. The voice was clearly female, and was very young judging from its high pitch, certainly not yet entered puberty.

He had broken into a house where a little girl was home after school, and going by the lack of cars on the drive, she was home alone without a babysitter. I stood stock still on the sidewalk, looking down at my feet, with my tail flicking agitatedly behind me, completely unsure of what to do. He'd probably just take some money, maybe a few cans of beer and then be gone before the cops got there, that's all. I could forget it and walk away. I was brutal vigilante after all, not some knight in shining armour, and even that feline wouldn't be stupid enough to try something that could get him a life sentence, or even a death penalty if he seriously hurt her and it went to a higher court, would he?

The moment I comprehended that, I heard her scream.

That was it, the line was crossed; I was going to tear that fucker's stomach out through his arsehole. Hurting a kid is something I simply don't agree with.

I did a quick about turn on the pavement and ran back to the house as fast as I could carry myself. The front door was closed, but I heard the slam of a door inside the house, taking a chance, I quietly opened the front door (which thankfully hadn't been closed properly so there was no clicking sound) and pushed it slowly closed behind me.

I had to dive beneath the table in the living room just as he walked by over the landing, pulling a small girl, who looked to be a 9 years old arctic wolf, along by her hair with his hand over her mouth. She was wearing a cute little school uniform and her fur looked immaculately clean, obviously her parents had brought her up well. My hairs stood on end as I laid there, silently watching him go by with the poor girl struggling against him every step of the way; he came up to a room over to the right side of the landing and opened the door. He looked inside briefly before dragging her in behind him roughly, leaving the door open a crack in passing. I could see a cute little hand drawn picture in crayons, probably done by her, of a little wolf girl holding hands with her parents, sello-taped to her wall with a little hand written message that read 'my family'.

I had past the point of no return long ago. I got up just as stealthily as I had entered and went to the kitchen adjacent to the living room, quietly opening and closing each drawer I found until I came across what I was after: the cutlery drawer. The family being carnivores, they kept some nice long, sharp meat knives on hand for when they needed them. I took one that looked to be about about 8 inches long, with a smooth but very sharp blade and closed the drawer slowly before walking back out of the kitchen.

I ascended the stairs as quietly as possible while carrying an object in each hand. I had picked up a snow globe from the little table that everyone seems to keep by the doorway where the telephone usually sits. In my mind I had an idea of how to take him out quickly and without allowing him a chance to fight back, which I really needed to do or he would be able to use the little girl as a shield from me, making things much more difficult. It angered me because I wanted to make him suffer rather than ending him quickly, but right now that little girl was seconds away from either being killed, or having her virginity robbed by the single least deserving piece of shit this side of prison and even worse being faced with the dilemma of becoming pregnant with his child if she was already developed enough that her menstrual cycles had started.

I crept right up to the bedroom door once I'd cleared the last step; pressing my ear to the wood and hearing him threaten to kill her if she resisted him while he fucked her.

This was an attempted rape alright. Pushing the door open as slowly as I could so as to make no noise whatsoever, I slowly came into view of what was going on. He had her pinned down on her own bed and was running one of his hands over her little white panties while he held her down roughly by her neck with the other.

I needed a brief second to close the gap between us. I had the snow globe in my right hand and the kitchen knife in my left hand; looking over at the far wall, there was a window looking out over the back garden, as I had expected of a child's bedroom. Right as he was about to pull her underwear down, I threw the snow globe over handed at the window, watching as it arced over his head by mere inches and shattered both itself and the window with a satisfying cascade a glass and water out into the garden, complete with that piercing screeching sound that glass makes when it's broken. The cat drew both his hands up to his face out of instinct when the window broke, freeing the little girl from his grip.

Taking my chance I rushed forwards, flipping the knife into my other hand as I ran. The moment I was within range, I wrapped my left arm around his neck and pulled him backwards off the bed, simultaneously stabbing straight up into his back between his ribs with the knife, sending the stainless steel blade straight through his chest and out through his hoodie, which would have been accompanied by a loud scream if I wasn't covering his mouth just as he had done to the little girl.

Wasting no time, I pulled the knife out with a satisfying squelch and a spurt of dark red blood onto the carpet, knowing from the amount of resistance I'd encountered on the knife as I removed it that I had burst his right lung. I then hauled him to his feet in front of me slammed him into the bedroom wall with my free arm, grabbing him by his tracksuit top. For a brief moment his eyes met mine, trying to register just what was going on and who I was, but before he could even muster a syllable, I drove the knife all the way through his throat and out through his spinal column, severing all the nerves connecting his body to his brain.

I love the feeling of a sharp blade entering a body; you get to feel the resistance as the flesh tries to hold itself together for a brief moment, the crunch as the bone splinters when the metal strikes it with enough force, and the vibrations along the blade as the still twitching muscles of the body clutch at the knife as you embed it. I watched him closely as the moment came when is eyes became unfocused, signalling brain death, and stepped back from his still twitching cadaver, impaled upon the wall by the knife driven through his neck, blood pouring from the wound in a red waterfall down his clothes, down the wall and onto the carpet.

Behind me, I heard the quiet shivering crying of the little girl I had just saved. Turning around, I saw her with her face buried in her hands with tears streaming through them; I hoped to whatever god watched over this pathetic planet that she hadn't seen me kill him, she'd been through enough. She was in no state to be left alone right now, but I knew that had to go or I would miss my next target, or run the risk of the police seeing me as the rapist in all of this. Somebody might have heard all this going on. Kneeling down next to the bed, I started to talk to her soothingly, hoping that somehow she would listen and make this a lot easier for me.

"Shhhhh........shhhhhh......its okay, I'm not going to hurt you I promise." Another thing that separates me from society: unlike them, I have never made a promise I haven't kept.

"*sniffle*.....y-y-you promise?" she replied, her eyes red from crying.

"I promise. Listen to me, I'm going to carry you downstairs and put you back in the living room where you can call your parents and the police, but you must keep your eyes closed for me okay?" I really didn't want her to see that guy I'd just pinned to the wall by his throat.

I think that she was either still too scared or in shock to register many questions like who I was or how I had got in, but she nodded and scrunched her eyes shut, allowing me to pick her up and carry her out of the room while making sure she kept her eyes closed and face buried in my chest, closing the door behind me with my free paw. I put her down on the sofa, telling her she could open her eyes now, and then handed her the cordless phone that had been on the table near the door.

"Do you know your parent's phone number?"

"......yes.......they have them on speed dial."

Clever parents. No memorisation required if there was a problem.

"That's good, tell them exactly what happened, and then ring the police and tell them the same thing."

I got to my feet and was about to turn away when I felt her grab my jeans. When I looked down at her she was giving me the most pleading look I had ever received, and she quite literally had the puppy dog eyes to go with it.

"Can you stay here with me until they get here Mr?"

I sighed heavily at that, understanding that I made her feel safe. I didn't want her to see me as a saviour or an idol; my place was on the outer fringes of the living people of this planet, gradually coasting around and picking off those who no longer deserved to live until I too was either killed or died of my own accord. I couldn't stay here...........I didn't deserve to stay here, and I certainly hadn't earned that hopeful look she gave me.

"No, I can't. Your parents and the police wouldn't like me to be here."

"Why not, I can tell them that you saved my life?!"

I gave her a sorrowful look before I answered her, silently begging her not to make this any more painful for me than it already was.

"Saving one life does not excuse all of the other lives that I have taken little one. Tell your parents that my name is Michael Fortimus. They will tell you who I really am."

The little girl seemed to be settling down now, no longer crying, and did what I had told her to do in the first place. Starting to go through the numbers on speed dial on the house phone one at a time, she found her mom's number after a few seconds, quickly pressing the call button and holding it to her ear as the phone started ringing.

"My name is Sarah, thank you Michael Fotimus."

It's a good thing she was looking straight ahead of her as she spoke into the receiver, because I couldn't bear to look her in the eye as she started talking frantically to her mom about what had happened, describing how this bad man had come into the house and hurt her, while another nice man had punished the bad man for what he had done. I slowly slunk towards the living room door with my ears drooping; after washing my hands of the man's blood in the kitchen sink, I gave her a final small wave over my shoulder as I left through the front door, which she returned eagerly with a cute smile on her adorable white-furred face. I almost cried when I saw her cure little ears perked up and her pretty tail wagging as she watched me go. I couldn't stand the fact that someone who had already endured so much at such a young age now had to go through the pain of finding out that their hero was a serial murderer like me.

I walked away with my ears flat against my head, and my tail drooping low, and my eyes only half open. I continued walking, still paying attention to everything in my surroundings but now with the determination to give me something else to think about until I reached the bus stop and boarded the next bus to the town where my next target was waiting for me. Just as it pulled away with me sitting back in a seat as far back as I could find I saw a gleaming silver sports car being driven by a very beautiful arctic fox scream by at far beyond the speed limit for this area. I recognised her eyes instantly; they were the same as Sarah's. For the first time in years, at the back of a nearly empty bus, I laid my head in my hands and silently cried to myself.

To this day I have never regretted killing that feline, in fact I regret not killing that son of a bitch sooner. My only regret about that day is that the little girl who looked at me with such adoration could have been saved by someone who deserved that adoration.......anybody would have done...........anybody but me.........anybody......

-Sarah-

After Michael left, everything was a blur; I was too scared to say anything until both mom and dad were home. Mom arrived first, just a few minutes after Michael had left, holding me in her arms and asking me if I was okay. I just hugged her close and cried into her shirt, because I couldn't even speak at that point. I could tell that she was crying too as she hugged me tightly to her. Dad arrived very soon after mom, and just knelt on the carpet next to me, hugging both me and mom at the same time, telling me that it was going to be okay now that he was here.

Next thing I remember, there was the sound of cameras clicking all over the place, and I was sitting on Dad's knee as a police officer sat in a chair opposite me. He was a middle-aged grey fox with sharp yellow/orange eyes, and looked like he was a sprinter or something. He had muscles showing through his uniform shirt, and his trousers curved around his built thighs and calves. I realised that he had said something to me as he was looking at me as if he was expecting me to answer him, but I hadn't heard the question. I made sure to perk my ears to so that I could hear him if he asked me again.

"I know that this is a very difficult time for you miss Sarah", the officer said gently, twitching his nose. He had a thick New Jersey accent.

"Please is there anything that you can tell us about what happened?"

I did my best to reply, giving my dad a quick look to see if it was okay to answer him, as I didn't know him and I was told not to talk to strangers, which he replied to with a nod of head.

"I came home like usual, watched cartoons then went upstairs to my room at about 5:00, but then I heard the front door open and I thought it was mom or dad coming home early. There was a strange man in the hallway, when I asked him who he was, he ran at me and covered my mouth and pulled my hair."

Dad hugged me tighter around me waist as I continued. I really needed that, because it was so scary to go back to that moment when I was so helpless, and I was so frightened.

"I tried hitting him to make him let go, but just kept on dragging me around until he threw me onto my bed, and then he threatened me."

"How did he threaten you?" the officer inquired.

"He said 'Open your legs you pathetic little slut. I'm going to fuck your little pussy as roughly as I like, and you are going to keep quiet or I am going to fucking kill you. Do you understand this, little girl?', but I don't know what he meant by that."

I heard dad start to growl as he heard that, and my mother shuffled up alongside me to give me an extra hug, calling me her brave little girl as she stroked my hair. The officer seemed to be disgusted by this, but I don't think he was disgusted at me. He shook his head slowly and mutter 'sick bastard' to himself a couple of times. After a few moments he looked back at me and asked, "Can you give me a description of this man that threatened you?"

I was about to tell him when there was a frightened shout from upstairs, and looking around I saw another officer, a raccoon, was walking slowly backwards away from my bedroom door, which he had just opened. I couldn't see into my room from this angle, but I could see there was something red on the wall. I wasn't frightened by it, because I knew already that Michael had hurt the man who attacked me, maybe he'd just beaten him up so badly that the police officer needed to call an ambulance for him?

The raccoon backed up until he hit the banister that stopped people from falling off the landing and into the living room. He turned round and saw all four of us looking up at him, along with the other officers who had been searching the house for fingerprints. When he laid his eyes on me, I saw his eyes were wide open as he called down, "Little girl, was the man that attacked you a tall cat with patchy fur?"

That was him!

"Yes he was!"

The Raccoon's face was turning pale, and he looked like he was about to throw up. He didn't turn back to look at the bedroom through the open door, but as he rested his arms on the banister as his legs started to shake. He was silent for a few seconds, looking like he was going to collapse before he said "I found him".

Before the officer in front of me could do anything, my dad had pushed me into my mother's lap and was running at full speed towards the stairs with his fists tightly clenched, snarling viciously all the way. I've never heard or seen him so angry before. The Grey fox I'd been talking to ran after him, keeping up with him as he bounded up the stairs and across the landing, but as soon as my dad looked into my bedroom he stopped dead in his tracks as the anger drained from his face into a look a pure horror, the Grey fox doing the same once he had a clear sight inside as well.

I can remember my dad slowly saying to himself, "Sweet mother of god, who the hell could have done this?"

The grey fox officer turned back to the landing, shaking his head violently a few times before he called down to me. "Sarah. The man who attacked you won't be able to hurt you anymore, and there won't be any need for you to appear at a trial in court. He's dead. Also Mrs Whitetail, we've found you're kitchen knife."

The words sank into me very quickly, and I began to understand what Michael had meant when he said that he'd already taken many lives away. He meant that he had killed people before, probably a lot of people if he was as regretful as he looked about it, because he didn't look me in face when I said thank you to him. I wasn't sure whether to feel happy or sad, relieved or betrayed, my mind just stopped for a moment. What Michael had done was something that mom and dad had always told me was pure evil, but he hadn't tried to hurt me at all, and made sure that I called the police. He didn't even take anything of ours with him as the police said nothing was missing except for a snow globe, which they'd found in the back garden, and a kitchen knife, which they had just found. I didn't know what to think of him anymore; all I knew was that he made me feel safe when I thought of him, like he could scare off anybody who came near him. If he felt bad about it, then at least some part of him had to be good, right?

"The man who saved me", I said loud enough for the grey fox officer to hear, remembering what Michael had said to me, "He told me his name. He said that he was called Michael Fortimus."

My mom gasped in fright as she held me, and everyone else in the room went silent instantly. There were no camera clicks, no sighs, no quiet jokes, no footsteps; everything was still as soon as I said that name. I realised when I looked up that everyone from my parents to the people in strange white outfits looking around for evidence was looking straight at me, like I had just used a really bad swear word. Only the grey fox officer moved, slowly walking down the stairs and across the room until he was right in front of me, and then knelt down so that he could look me in the eyes.

"Was this man a large skunk with black hair and a small thin beard?" he asked.

"Yes" I replied. I saw some of the officers exchanging frightened looks, none of them carrying on what they were doing before. I didn't understand what was happening, or why they looked so scared, so I just waited for the grey fox to continue talking, hoping that he would explain it. He looked down at the floor for a while, rubbing his eyelids with his fingers for a short while before he looked back up at me and moved his hand away. His face was dead serious as he spoke to me.

"Sarah, I'm afraid I have to be honest with you. That man is not a good man." He said sternly.

"Why?" I asked. I never in a million years expected the answer he gave.

"That man is the single biggest serial murder in history, and he has killed over 10,000 people in the last 5 years. He takes pride in causing the people he kills as much pain as possible, and every person he's targeted has died. He could very easily have killed you too Sarah."

All I can remember after that was a very cold feeling as a fear I'd never felt before came over me. I went light head for a bit, and then everything went black. Later I found out that I had fainted.

To be continued.....