FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Terry approached the door slowly. Hank and Ellen had said there were no scares set up, but he knew they could have easily lied about that. At any moment someone could pop out and scare him. Or maybe something was going to be sitting behind it, waiting for him.

A sudden metal screech made him jump.

"Shit!"

The young Spaniel turned, shinning his light behind him. The room was empty though, only the strange holes on the opposite wall and the entrance into the first hallway. There was some more clattering sounds, but he ignored it, turning back to face the door.

This was the very first room, he thought. Even if they had planted scares, they wouldn't have put them up in the very first room, right? When he had checked his map, he had discovered ink stains all over it, and this whole first area was completely blacked out. The only way for him to find out what was behind that door was to open it.

Terry reached out his hand and closed it on the door handle. He turned it slowly, pausing for a moment as he felt the door come free. The Spaniel inhaled slowly before inching it open.

Quiet darkness. It took him a second to build up the nerve, but then he flashed his light, slowly trailing it along the floor, almost waiting for it to find someone, something standing inside. It was only a small hallway. Empty, except right at the end, where a door stood. And something was on it.

There was another screech, and this time he let out a little yelp.

"Damnit," he breathed. He gave an annoyed look behind him, but there was no one there to see it. And in the dark, nobody could anyway. Everywhere his light didn't touch was pitch black.

He turned back to the door. Spray painted on it were big, neatly written black letters that spelled out:

POI

SON

GAS

DO

"...Poison?"

Between GAS and DO was a spray painted dot surrounded by three triangle pointing towards it. A toxic waste symbol.

"...Shit."

The brown Spaniel closed the door and walked back to the hallway. He flashed the light carefully down it to make sure it was clear before heading for the farthest open door, to where more clattering sounds were coming from.

Inside he found the Otter girl, rummaging through one of the metal cabinets.

"There's a hallway behind it," he told her. "A small one, with another door at the end."

"Big surprise there," Madison shrugged, closing and opening another drawer. "This place is going to be full of doors."

"It had, 'Poison gas, do,' spray painted on it. I think it was supposed say, don't open."

"Poison gas?" She straightened up, shinning her light in the Spaniel's face before seeing him cringe. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he said, blinking. "It's not like our eyes can adjust to complete blackness anyway. Yeah, poison gas."

She thought about it for a minute before shrugging. "I'm sure it's fine. Hank and Ellen must have seen it when they came down here. It's probably air-tight or something."

"Yeah, maybe," he said. He watched the Otter girl as she noisily opened another metal drawer, cringing as the cabinet screeched. "But I mean, I don't know. They should have said something, like not to open it or whatever."

"They probably wanted us to freak out," she smirked, rummaging through the contents. "I bet the doors are locked anyway."

"Maybe."

"Relax Terry. I'm sure the school or someone checked the place out. They don't just hand over a bunker and let students go play in it without making sure it's safe first."

"...Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, you're right."

"If you want to get out of here so bad, you should start looking for your totems."

"Right," he nodded, shining his light on the drawer she was rummaging through. "You finding anything?"

The Spaniel watched her pull out a thick, old-looking worker's glove. "No, just a bunch of random stuff. Different kinds of gloves. Candles. Work helmets. There's a bunch of flash lights too, but none of them seem to work. Although," she smirked, glancing at him. "If I did find one of your totems, I probably wouldn't say anything. We're on different teams, remember?"

"Right," he smirked back. "Okay."

Turning around, Terry walked into the room across the hall. The light revealed nothing but another metal cabinet. He jumped slightly at the sound of Madison pulling out another drawer, and when he walked over to open this one, he took a deep breathe.

It was so quiet down here, even with the sound of Madison in the other room. He pulled the drawer open slowly, but the metallic groaning still sounded too loud, too unwelcome in the dark silence.

There were boxes of latex gloves, the kind doctors or dentists use. No sign of anything that could be a totem though. He closed it, cringing at the noise it made, and cringing at pulling out the next one. Nothing of interest caught his eye until he reached the very bottom door.

"...Holy shit."

"What is it?"

"Ah!"

He dropped the light, cursing at the laughter he heard.

"Jeez you're jumpy," he heard Madison say.

"Damnit! Don't do that."

She giggled a bit more. "What'd you find?"

"Look."

He pulled out a long, brown object for her to see, a long black fuse hanging from one end.

"Is that dynamite?"

"Yeah," he answered. "There's a bunch in this drawer. There's even a box of matches."

She stared in wonder for a moment, but then just like before, shrugged it off. "Well, just don't light it. I'm going to keep looking."

The Spaniel stood up and followed her to the next room, standing in the doorway.

"Don't you think the others would have already checked these rooms?"

"Maybe," Madison shrugged. "But we don't even know what the totems are, so maybe they missed them."

"Hm." He wasn't convinced. They were the last group to come down here. The others must have checked this place thoroughly by now. "I think I'm going to go to the fifth floor."

"The fifth floor?"

"Yeah," he said. "Everyone's probably still in the upper levels. And I'm sure Hank and Ellen must have put at least one down there."

"I guess. That makes sense. I'm going to stick around here first though. You going to be okay on your own?" she smirked.

"Yeah," he said, trying to sound like it really wasn't a big deal.

"Alright, good luck," she said.

"You too."

He walked to the end of the hallway. To the right, the hall way turned. To the left it led to a single door with a tiny window. Terry's map wouldn't tell him what was in either direction, so, out of curiosity, he started walking toward the door with the window.

But before he was even halfway there, he stopped. The skin under his fur started to prickle, and he could feel his fear starting to paralyze him. There was something about that little window. His light was shined directly on it, and he could see that there was no one on the other side. But the air had suddenly become hard to breath, and he could feel something watching him.

Grinning.

One step back, then another, never taking his eyes off the door. Something was waiting for him in there. He didn't know why he thought that, but he did. He didn't even want to blink. If he did, he might not be able to bring himself to open his eyes again. There was something in the window, even if he couldn't see it. Something behind that door that shouldn't be anywhere.

He almost yelped when his back hit something, but quickly he realized he had just reached the end of the hallway. Without thinking he scrambled around the turn, and suddenly the tension snapped.

It took him a moment to catch his breath, but when he calmed down enough he realized whatever he had just been feeling had faded.

"Crudge," he gasped. Then he even managed to laugh quietly. What was that? He just terrified himself over nothing, he thought. He shined his flash light down the new hallway, and saw another door with a tiny little window.

But this time there was no rising panic, and he knew whatever he had just been feeling had been nonsense. The tension bubbled out as more quiet laughter as he walked over to the new door. A screech made him jump, but it was just Madison again.

He wondered for a moment whether or not to go back and tell her what had just happened, but he reasoned that whatever he had felt had just been his nerves. And besides, she would probably just laugh at how scared he was, and he didn't feel particularly inclined to give her that satisfaction.

It wasn't that there was anything wrong with her. There was just, a certain tension he felt around her. Too much negative association that made him want to avoid her. And her teasing didn't help. She seemed at home in the dark though, so at least he wouldn't have to feel guilty about leaving her behind.

The door creaked as he pushed it open.

The room looked...wrong, almost, and it took him a moment to realize it was because the room was so wide while the ceiling stayed low. There were rows and rows of benches, but they were all lined up with their backs facing him, like in a church or auditorium. But all they faced was an empty wall.

He swept the room with his light, finding two doors, each on the other side of the room on opposite corners. But other than that and the benches, it was completely empty.

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Karen tried to keep her breathing as quiet as she could. The darkness seemed to make every sound she made even louder. Even just the slight tremor of her limbs felt like it was making noise.

Her back was pressed tightly to the wall, right next to the door she wasn't able to make herself close. Instead it hung just slightly ajar, so her eyes were able to peek out into the hallway outside. But they could see only blackness.

She had turned her light off the second she heard it. And now her fingers were too frozen by fear to even click it back on. Seeing nothing was terrifying, but so was the thought of facing whatever was creeping in the hallway outside.

She heard it again, and her throat closed up. It was closer now.

It had to be one of the other pledges, she thought. They were all down here with her by now. But then why wasn't there any light? None of the other pledges would be able to walk around in this darkness without a light. But she could tell from the noise that whatever it was, it had to be right there, somewhere in her line of sight between the door and the wall.

She had to be staring right at it. And if it didn't need a light to see, it could be starring right back.

It could be right in front of her.

She heard a door handle moving, right next to her, heard the door creak open slowly in front of her face.

Her lungs stopped breathing and she almost stopped thinking all together. And then she felt it breathe.

"Ah!"

Blaring light.

"Ah!"

Tall, and eyes piercing. Spotted.

"Leona!"

"Karen!" she shouted. "Fuck!"

"Why don't you have your light on?" The Fox shouted.

"Because I saw someone in here!" said the Leopard girl. "I thought it was going to be someone waiting to jump out and scare me! And then you turned your light off...shit damnit!"

Karen started laughing, relief bubbling out of her as the two of them breathed raggedly, waiting for their legs to stop shaking. "You scared the hell out of me."

"No kidding," the Leopard said. "Jeez."

Karen took another deep breath. She was standing in the doorway now, and the Leopard girl was standing outside the hallway. But then, she thought, how had she felt breath on her face? But she quickly realized it must have made the air herself when she swung the door open. "Have you found anything yet?" she asked.

"No. And I've been looking all over this stupid place."

"Me either."

"What if there isn't even anything down here?" Leona said between breaths. "Maybe they just want us to run around in the dark scaring ourselves. Why are you smiling?"

"Because," Karen said, giggling. "That would suck."

"That would totally suck," she agreed, managing to relax enough to laugh a little too. "Hey, have you seen doors with words written on them?"

"No. You have?"

"Yeah, up on the second floor."

"Wait," Karen said. "Isn't this the second floor?"

Leona shook her head. "This is the third floor."

"Damn it. I'm losing track. And my map doesn't have this area."

"Yeah."

"What did it say on the door?" Karen asked.

"It said, 'Poison gas, don't open.'"

"Poison?"

"Yeah," said the Leopard. "But it was written in spray paint. I think Ellen or Patricia or someone wrote it to freak us out."

"You think so? Wait...didn't they say some of the paths were going to be blocked?"

"Yeah, see? They must have done it just to make this harder."

"Did you try opening it?"

Leona hesitated. "...No. I didn't want to risk it."

They went quiet for a moment, letting their nerves workout the last bit of edge. The silence settled ominously back around them, and they reflexively started breathing quieter and quieter.

"I still haven't checked that room," Karen said suddenly, shinning her light on the last door in the hallway. "Want to search it together?"

"Alright," Leona nodded.

They straightened up, the darkness a little less intimidating now that they weren't alone. They walked toward the door slowly, and opened it even slower.

Inside, Karen saw that is was just like every other room in this hallway. On one side was a metal wireframe bed with no mattress, and on the other a wooden wardrobe and several large chests.

"The wardrobe's locked," Karen said. "All of the rooms here are the same, so let's just go through these chests."

They went through each of the four large chests that were laid out in the back of the room. Inside each chest were various clothes. At one point Leona pulled what looked like a blouse with a tear in its side, surrounded by a bright red stain.

"Is that blood?" she asked.

"No," Karen answered. "If it were real blood, it'd be old and wouldn't be bright red like that. It's probably dye or something."

"Kind of elaborate for a scare though, don't you think?"

"Maybe it was from an old bunker hunt," the Fox suggested. "There could still be stuff left over that no one ever cleaned out."

"...Maybe."

"Just trust me when I say that isn't real blood."

"If you say so," Leona said, setting the garment down with an uncertain look.

Eventually they had gone through every chest, and had found nothing but a few more red painted clothes.

"Damn," Karen swore. "Well, this hallway was a waste of time." But Leona was standing up and moving toward the wardrobe. "What?"

"I think..." She pulled it forward, away from the wall, and reached behind it. "Holy shit," she laughed. From behind the wardrobe she pulled a thin, but large framed painting, and Karen quickly realized why she had laughed.

It was a painting of Hank, the Lion, in nothing but his underwear, posed with one leg on a chair and one hand holding his chin, like he was in deep thought.

"Is that...a totem?" the Fox laughed.

"Well, at least we know they're real."

"What should we do with it?"

"Let's hide it," Leona suggested. "In the same place, but pushed back more so they won't see it."

"I almost wished we hadn't seen it."

"How long do you think he posed for this?" Leona laughed.

"I want to know who painted it," said Karen. "Actually, we should leave it out for Sam to find. I bet he'd love it."

"Well if he wants it," the Leopard said, as she pushed it farther back behind the wardrobe, "he'll have to look real hard for it."

Karen almost felt guilty, thinking of how scared the other Fox had seemed, about making his team stay longer in this place. But the thought of facing Ellen if they lost erased that guilt effectively. "Come on, let's get out of here."

Back in the hallway Leona pulled out her map. The hallway was shaped like a capital I, so they could go either direction from here.

BANG BANG BANG.

They both jumped and turned around. Something was knocking on one of the doors behind them. They're lights swiveled around frantically until they heard a door creak open. But it wasn't any of the doors they could see.

"H...hello?" Karen managed to call.

A distorted sound, almost like a baby crying, but choppy.

"What is that?" Leona shouted, backing away quickly to the end of the hallway. Karen followed. And then suddenly something rolled into view. They barely had time to register what it was before the dismembered head opened its mouth and screamed.

Something black and wavy started to round the corner, but the two girls had already took off sprinting, turning at the end of the hall.

In opposite directions.

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"Poison gas, don't open," Sam whispered aloud.

"That's great. Was the 'don't open' really necessary though? I'm pretty sure that was implied." He turned away from the door, facing the rest of the space. "But at least I can mark that way off my map. Oh, but wait, Hank already did that for me."

He shined his light around the large room. There were sections of concrete that jutted out from each wall, just the right height for someone to sit, and between each stone bench, a strange, shiny goo that he had realized from the tiny pillars sticking out was candle wax. But no else was around to sit. He was completely by himself.

"And I still have no idea what that's for," he said quietly. His light revealed a strange, elevated portion of the floor, surrounded with only a single step. It had a strange pattern carved onto it that he assumed to be some kind of logo, since he had seen it other placed in this area.

This room in particular was the last in a set of three rooms connected in a line, and each one had something to unsettle him. In this one it was most specifically the single rusted chain that hung from the ceiling in the center of the room, right above the raised part of the floor. It had been swinging just slightly when he had first walked in, and it still hadn't stopped.

"But that's probably from everyone walking around above us," he reasoned, although there was no one else there with him. "All their footsteps combined must be shaking the ceiling."

The reasoning barely made sense to his fear filled mind, but the only other explanation he could bring himself to consider was that somehow there was a draft down here that he couldn't feel. All other reasons he refused to even think, since that would involve him turning tail and sprinting off like mad.

"Fuck, I guess this means I have to go back."

The room before this had been terrible, and the one before that wasn't much better. All three formed a sort of hallway, each leading straight into the other. And this one had been the least horrible, even with the chain.

"But fuck I really really don't want to go back." But at this point, it looked like he didn't have a choice.

He had closed all the doors behind him, and now dread was creeping up at the thought of opening them again.

"Alright, we can do this," he said to himself. He walked around the podium, eying the chain. At least it didn't make a sound as it moved.

"Come on, they're just empty costumes. And we've already been this way," he said, maybe to his flashlight. "Nothing to worry about." Unless something had followed him, he thought. "Nope, no, it's fine, everything is fine. They're just stupid robes that Hank put to try and scare us. Like that," he added, shining his light on the writing on the door behind him.

"Or that," he said, moving the light to the elevated piece of floor in the middle of the room. "Which is probably the biggest give away."

On the top surface of it were bright red stains of dried red paint, a small bit of which was made to look like it had dripped off the side.

"If that was real blood, it would have at least turned dark or brown by now," he reasoned. Unless it was fresh. But any part of him that wasn't one hundred percent sure the blood was fake was just letting his nervousness get to him.

He reached the door, and put his hand on the handle. "Just take a deep breath," he told himself, quieter than before. "It'll be fine." Almost unwillingly, he turned the handle, and slowly pulled the door open.

They all stood there, watching him. The fur on the back of his neck started to prickle. They loomed over him, hanging from hooks that hung from the ceiling by more chains. They blocked his view of almost the entire room on either side of him. One of them started turning.

His throat closed up. His eyes were glued to it, opened wide in fear. It was turning, so horribly slow. He wanted to turn his light off, hide in the dark, but the adrenaline made him refuse to let the figure out of his sight. He stood in terror as it was about to face him, until it slowly started turning back away.

After a second he took a long, shaky breath. The chain the hooded robe hung from was just moving, like the one in the other room.

"Fuck. Fuck holy shit thank you goodness so much."

But he could barely even hear himself now. He made his way across the room, slower then he wanted to, feeling all the dark hanging figures watching him. A small terror built up right behind him, growing bigger and bigger, but age-old basic instinct told him not to run. He knew deep down in his core that if he ran, something would definitely run after him.

When his hand finally reached the doorknob, his fear started to spike. It didn't help that the next room was bad too. He wanted to say something to comfort himself. Soon after he and Karen had been separated he had realized that talking to himself kept the silence from crushing him. But the fear had taken away his voice, and he didn't dare break the silence.

Without even glancing back, he opened the next door.

Faces stared blankly at him from every wall in the room. A few on the floor stared at him, or up at the faced that looked down from the ceiling.

Sam closed the door behind him, putting his back against it as he worked up the guts to walk under them again. The masks on the wall hung individually side by side, but the ones above him were like the robes, hanging in bunches from the hooked chains that hung from the ceiling. They looked like some mix between masquerade and costume masks.

The Fox couldn't for the life of him understand why this place insisted on being so creepy. He knew Hank end Ellen must have put them there, though it was hard to understand how they'd put so many.

"They couldn't have put the chains up too though, could they?" he whispered to himself. His ears almost managed to unpin themselves from his head. He had his voice back. If only barely.

He looked at the masks hanging above him, trying to reassure himself. "They're just Hallow-"

aaaAAOOOOOOOOOOoooooohhhhh!

His face burned with pain as his hand slammed shut over his mouth, his eyes stretched open wide and his back arched and his fur stood on end. It had come from behind him.

He bolted for the other door, grabbed the handle and yanked it as hard as he could. The door was locked.

"Fuck!"

He shook it like crazy with both hands, his flashlight lying somewhere on the ground near him. He threw his weight on the door, trying to make it budge, but then he heard the door across from him opening, and instantly his mind had one thought.

The poison gas door.

It was the only way out. He could hold his breath. It was that or die right here.

He scrambled for his flashlight, and quickly pointed it at the thing in the doorway.

Something, standing in a dark robe, face obscured by large hood, and a pale, red-tinted mask.

His mind stopped.

"Aaah!"

He panicked and chucked the flashlight directly at it. Horrible shadows flashed around the room before it connected with the things mask.

"Ah! Fuck!"

Emotions flashed through his mind as the light illuminated someone's shoes. Confusion, clarity, and when the voice registered, joy. "Justin?"

"Damn it, that hurt!"

Rage. The Wolf didn't see the Fox charging him until it was too late. He was knocked over, and suddenly had an angry Fox beating on him.

"You stupid motherfucking son of a bitch asshole!"

"I'm sorry!" he pleaded, trying to defend himself for the blows.

"You stupid fucking dick!"

"But you like my dick!"

If the Fox had a knife, Justin would be dead. Instead, he reached into the blackness and yanked on the Wolf's hair cruelly, pulling him up and smashing their faces together until he found the other male's lips and forced him into a kiss filled with anger and relief.

Despite the pain, the Wolf adjusted quickly. Thankfully he had pulled the mask down before Sam had attacked him, right after the flashlight had smashed his face.

"You fucking asshole," the Fox said, breaking the kiss. He pushed himself roughly off the Wolf, and when he was standing, hit him with the back of his shoe for good measure.

"I'm sorry," Justin said, though the laughter in his voice said otherwise.

"Go to hell." Sam reached down and picked his flashlight back up. Somehow it hadn't broken, despite being dropped on concrete twice. But suddenly he was enveloped by the Wolf's big arms.

"Hey, don't be mad. I'm sorry okay?"

"No you're not."

"I am!" Justin insisted, but the Fox could still hear the grin in his voice. "I was just doing my job."

"Your job?"

"Yeah. The backpacks they gave me and Patricia had notes telling us to scare you guys. And a bunch of stuff to do it with."

"Assholes," Sam cursed. He shined his light up at all the face hanging above them. "...Are you the one who put all these masks up?"

He felt the Wolf shake his head. "No. These were already here. Probably left over from when the houses used to do the Bunker Hunts. It was marked off with stars on my map. They gave us a costume and masks to use, but these ones are way creepier."

Sam agreed. There was something menacing in their subtle simplicity. He felt the Wolf nuzzle into the top of his head, and tried not to enjoy it. "You locked the door too?"

"Yup. Have the master keys to this whole place. They gave us a recorder with sound effects too, but I think my howling works better, don't you? Oof!"

The Fox elbowed him, worming out of his grip. "You're such a dickface."

"Aw, come on Sam. I thought you liked my howling."

Sam didn't turn around, trying to hide the smile on his face, even if the Wolf would have a hard time seeing it. "Only when I'm the one making you do it."

"Aw, Foxy." He walked over and wrapped his arms around Sam again. "That one was for you too."

The smile broke free. "You have sex with a guy once and suddenly he can't stop howling for you."

"It was good sex," the Wolf explained.

"I do my best," Sam said proudly.

"Though it helped that I liked the guy so much."

"Shut up," the Fox laughed, glad Justin couldn't see him turning red.

"It's true," he insisted. "You know I volunteered to come down here so I could hang out with you."

Sam felt something warm in his chest as his mind ease further into the Wolf's embrace. "Are you sure it was just to hang out?"

"Yes," he answered, ignoring the insinuation. "I want to spend time with you. That way you don't have to keep talking to yourself."

"Oh crudge," the Fox groaned. "You heard that?"

"I've been following you for a while," Justin admitted. "But I didn't want to say anything because it was fun to listen too."

"You're such a jerk," he said, pushing the Wolf away. But he was smiling.

"So what do you say?" Justin asked, pulling the keys out of his pocket. "Want to hang out?"

"Fine," Sam said, shining the light in the Wolf's face. "Since I don't really have a choice. Can we just get out of here please?"

Despite being blinded, the Wolf's sharp, toothy grin grew wider.

"Sure."

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The Husky girl shoved the head back into her backpack, still smiling to herself over the reaction of the Fox and the Leopard. Ellen had told Patricia about the hunt a while ago, and she had marked off on Patricia's map places where she had hidden a few extra props to scare the pledges.

But the head had definitely been the best. Leona and Karen had sprinted off like crazy, and in opposite directions. It was better than she could have hoped for. This was supposed to be a Halloween event, wasn't it? So what would it be without a good scare?

She picked up her flashlight and strung the backpack onto her back. Hopefully Justin was having just as much luck with scaring the pledges.

Rather than going down the hallway the two girls had been in, she kept going straight toward the door on the other end. On the other side was a wider room, and just like her map had said, a door that led down to the fourth floor. There were only two stairways to the fourth floor, and according to her map, the other one was blocked off.

She had agreed to stay on the upper level, while Justin took care of the lower ones. But she was sure that by now all the other pledges had trickled down to the bottom by now.

At the bottom of the stairs she opened another door, and found a large room with a door on either side, and a hallway down the middle. The door to her left had the warning, POISON GAS, DON'T OPEN, spray painted on it. Ellen had told her not to worry about them, they all seemed to be locked.

So the Husky made her way toward the hallway. But just as she heard reached it, she heard a noise.

"Hello?"

It sounded like someone crying.

"...Is someone there?"

It was coming from the door on her left. The one with the poison warning.

"Hello?"

She couldn't tell if the voice was male or female, but it definitely sounded like someone was crying. She walked over slowly, and put her ear against the door, knocking lightly.

"Hello? Is someone in there?"

The sound changed into a choked, broken breathing. And alarm went off in her head and she pulled out her keys.

"Hold on, I'm opening the door!"

When she heard the click she took a deep breath, pulling her shirt over her face before pulling on the handle.

It wasn't like the rest of the bunker.

The walls, the floor, the ceiling, all of it were made of dirt. Someone had dug a cave. Small and narrow, and made a sharp right turn.

"Hello?"

The voice sounded different down here. There was a rough quality to the crying, like an animal faintly snarling. It was scaring her, but she knew she had to hurry and close the door again.

"Who's there? Are you okay?"

Something twitched at the edge of her light, and at first she thought it was a snake, right where the tunnel turned. But it didn't have scales. Just pale, fleshy skin. It slithered further into view, and then she felt sick.

Either its tail or its head had been cut off, leaving a bloodied stump. And jammed right into it was large, jagged knife.

"...What..."

Someone, something stuck its head around the corner. And she screamed.

"Aaaaaahhhhh!"

It got up and ran towards her. She slammed the door shut, but before she could lock it the thing pushed it forward. Patricia used all her strength and slammed it back close, feeling the door connect with the thing hard.

She turned and ran, screaming as she heard the door burst open behind her. She wasn't thinking anymore, running straight for the door on the other side of the room and flinging it open.

It was a dead end.

But she ran in and slammed the door shut behind her.

"What?"

She looked down, seeing the bloodied, knife wielding stump jammed in the door. She jerked away, losing just the slightest grip on the door. Then it was pulled open.

"Aaaaahhh-"

Her throat was sliced open, and she fell to the ground.

She listened to its horrible, horrifying voice, somewhere between a frantic laugh and uncontrollable sob, as it ripped through her clothes, felt the unmatched pain as it grabbed, pulled and ripped her fur underneath, tearing it off her body.

The pain grew and grew, until she felt less and less of it.

And then she felt nothing.