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Most people don’t look forward to attending church on Sunday.

Then again, most people don’t have such an awesome church to go to.

The congregation for mine usually started to arrive around three in the afternoon, and there was always a keg of beer open and flowing by then. The metal music was loud and heavy as it blasted out the widows of the small building, leaving most of the congregation to hang out in the front or back yards until it was time for the service. There were all sorts of motorcycles and mean looking cars parked up and down the street, showing off all the possible shades and shines of black there were to show. That went double for all the people strolling around the normally quiet street, parading around in leather jackets, spiked belts and gloves, torn jeans, and thick buckled boots, each one looking scarier and more intimidating than the last. If people didn’t know any better, they’d assume that it was just a Sunday afternoon costume party at that strange guy’s house down the road. But, to those who knew better, they recognized that it was the weekly gathering of the local chapter of the Church of Satan.

I fit right on in as I parked my black Pontiac in its normal spot and climbed out. The piercings on my nose, lip, and ears shimmered proudly in the slowly dying sun, with my rather graphic Mayhem shirt and black cargo pants clinging tightly to my frame. With each step I took the spiked bands on my wrist and collar shook, and my heavy boots crunched over those loose stones underneath with a loud and satisfying crackle. I looked like someone you didn’t want to mess with, although most who knew me also knew that I was far from dangerous. Still, I enjoyed playing the part, at least on Sundays. We all did. As I made my way up towards that house, I caught sight of some of the others I knew, and I quickly tossed out waves to them all. I felt a surge of belonging start to settle over me. Everyone here looked like me, they acted like me, and as they caught sight of me, they welcomed me as one of their own. I was at the right place. This was where I belonged.

I was home.

It didn’t take long for a few of my buddies to come over and give me a welcoming hug and slap on the back, making me shift my frame to keep the case of beer I was carrying safe. I did my best to return the hugs and fist bumps as I made my way through the small crowd. It was a little bit of a battle to get through the gauntlet of familiar faces, but once I made it inside, and I’d placed that 12 pack next to the other ‘offerings’ for the evening, I gladly returned any and all hellos I could to those that had followed me.

“Hey Arny, how have ya been?” I asked one of the last to greet me, holding a large smile on my face. He didn’t look much different from me to be honest: long hair, black clothing, and a little eye liner helping his eyes stand out against his pale face. He was the one that first invited me to one of these Masses, and I’d been hooked ever since, so I always made it a point to stop and talk with him to see how things were going.

“Doing well,” he said as he gave another sip to the beer he was holding in his free hand. “I survived another week. And how about you Bry?”

“Oh, pretty much the same,” I answered as I tore open my twelve pack and pulled out one of the semi-cold cans. “Had a little bit of free time to work on some of my artwork yesterday, and here I am today. Then, tomorrow, I head back towards that boring job, just like I do every week.”

“I hear that,” Arny replied, clanking his beer can off mine as we both took a quick sip. “So have you heard the news?”

“You mean the murder, right?” I countered quick enough to throw him off guard. “Of course I have. It’s all over the news. I figured it’d be quite the talk around here.”

“Try as we might,” he began again with a soft chuckle, “we can’t always run from the stereotypes, can we?” I gave him a little nod before he added, “But yeah, hell of a thing what happened. Fifteen stab wounds to the body. No weapon, no fingerprints. Nothing. It’s a fuckin’ mystery.”

“Weird, isn’t it?” I shot back after another small sip to my beer. “A small town like this doesn’t get many up close and personal murders like that, especially ones that aren’t from a jealous boyfriend or something.” I let a pause linger in the air for a moment before finally coming out and saying it. “So, what’s the group consensus? Who does everyone think did it?”

That got a chuckle out of Arny, and that was just the response I was going for as I added in my own small laugh soon after. But, after they’d both faded away, Arny leaned in a little closer and said, “Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but the best guess we all have is Velma. She kinda half knew the guy, although most people in this town kinda half know each other, so take that for what you will. She has no alibi for the night, and someone was saying that they saw what looked like her jeep parked near where the body was found in the morning.”

“For real?”

“Yeah man, for real. I dunno if drugs or something were involved. She can be a scary chick at times. I wouldn’t want to get on her bad side, you know what I mean? You know as well as I do how some people here live secret or double lives. Some crazy shit might have gone down.”

“I’m not surprised her name came up,” I responded with a small nod of my head, and then a little chuckle. “I assume we’ve gotten some heat over it? Bruce sent me that one small article from the next town’s local newspaper about how the Satanists are bringing bad energy into the town and all – normal stuff, but nothing substantial, and nothing to exactly tie us to this in particular.”

“As far as I know that’s it,” Arny said after a moment to think and sip at his beer. “Again, no clues, no leads, no nothing.”

“Guess I’ve gotta sleep with one eye open then,” I shot back with a wink.

“Could always ask if those demons you pray to can protect you,” he added in with a strong chuckle over his beer can’s lid as he took another drink.

“That’s always your answer for everything,” I responded with a gentle glare back at him. “Besides, it don’t quite work like that. Just because it’s not endorsed by the church as an official position, doesn’t mean that I can’t still feel their energy flowing through everything. And sure, sometimes they can help, but I don’t think any one of them is taking a knife for me.”

“You always get so defensive whenever I bring it up,” he shot back with a hearty chuckle. “Calm down man. You live your life and believe whatever you want, but that doesn’t mean I can’t rag on you for it.”

“We’ll see who’s ragging who when I can convince one of them to set your house on fire,” I joked as my glare further softened into a smile.

“And how’s that going for you?” he countered back with a smirk himself.

“Eh…” I started before letting it hang a bit. “I’ve been lazy with work and stuff. Haven’t gotten the necessary offerings and all that. Plus, why would I waste such power and magic on you anyway?”

“Yeah, why would you?” Arny chuckled with a small tap of his beer against mine. “I’m just a simple man, from a simple town, drinking a simple beer, with a simple group of friends. No hostility here.”

I smiled at those words as I nodded and gave off a small toast to the two of us, shouting out, “To not wasting magic on useless beings!”

“Hell, I’ll drink to that,” Arny said before taking another strong gulp of his beer.

---

The Mass was called into service soon after that, although Mass was a loose definition. The thing about Satanists is that they don’t really have a good playbook to read from. Most official ceremonies and such were made up by one guy, and from there they kind of morphed and splintered into whatever the local community wanted. Our community might not be big on the spiritual side like I was, but still, in a small town like mine, there weren’t many options. I believed most of the other stuff they preached, and had fun hanging out and releasing some pent up energies with a few rituals and ceremonies on occasion, so why not just practice my own prayers afterwards?

Even though I enjoyed each meeting, I couldn’t help but feel incomplete when I made my way home. My physical form was sedated, but my spiritual form was as awake and alert as ever. When I got back to my apartment I didn’t even bother to turn on the lights, knowing my way around the small rented space well enough by this point. The darkness added an extra unknown factor anyway, which I felt really brought out the energy of those spirits and demons when I prayed.

With a soft grunt I kneeled down before the altar at the side of my bed, closed my eyes, and hung my head. It was difficult to explain what I was looking for as I began to call out a few names, but it was the same way with most religion. It just was what it was, it was faith, and it worked for me, even if the church didn’t want to be a part of it.

Today I had my normal list of names to call out for, along with a few new ones I liked to try. It was a constant game to see if any specific one had an effect, and if I could sense any presence when calling out for them. Most names on my demons list were either long forgotten or never existed at all, leaving me with no reaction. But there were a few that I could feel a spiritual connection with, and I could definitely feel a presence as I invoked their names.

Up first, as always, was Baphomet. He was my spiritual leader, the goat God that I actually prayed to, and the one that had taken a major role in my life. As I called out to him and recited his name, along with my wishes that he come visit me, I could feel a warm sensation slowly flood through my chest, which quickly spread to the rest of my body. I knew his presence was with me from that moment on until I released him. It comforted me to know someone was watching over me, even if I didn’t expect any miracles or anything to suddenly happen. Still, he was the benchmark I used to test all other demons against.

I always offered him plenty of sacrifices to make sure he would be there for me, and today was no different. As I felt that warm tingle sweep through my system, I cracked open the last of my beer that I had taken home from the service, and I poured it into a bowl I had sitting beside the altar. With the pour came a few more kind words and thanks for the continued support. I obviously knew it wouldn’t magically disappear, and he wouldn’t actually drink it, but the sacrifice from my own enjoyment would be enough to show that I was in his debt. It was nice having a supernatural being on your side after all. It helped give me the confidence I needed to get through the week of work and just life in general, knowing I could call on him when need be. And, more often than not, I found that things turned out better when I did.

I had a few more regulars to call out to as well, such as Leonard the Orgy Demon and Azazel the Forbidden Knowledge demon, which always sent a warm tingle through my body as I offered them a drink of the beer as well. Then there were some new demons I wanted to speak to and see if they’d reply, so I began to rattle off their names. With the lighter from my pocket I managed to light the two candles on either end of the altar, giving me enough light to read out the little hand scribbled list I’d researched before leaving for my Service.

Most of the names did nothing, and they got me no response. I was quickly getting used to that as I waited and then moved to the next. Rarely did any of them give me the same feeling that my main demons had, but every once in a rare while I was surprised, and not always pleasantly. There was one name last week, Keres, which sent a cold shiver and sense of dread through me when I called them to visit. It was a sensation I wasn’t used to, and as I got down to their name on my list once more, I hesitated, then skipped over it. Still, just by the process of reading it inside my mind, I began to feel that cold chill down my spine once more. I knew it was something I didn’t want to mess with right after I felt it, but with a quick call back to Baphomet for his help, I felt that familiar warmth flood into me once more. I took a deep breath and reached for the pencil I left beside the small note, scratching that name off my list for good. Whatever Keres had to offer I wasn’t interested.

---

Satanism and spiritualism were fun and all, but there was one other thing that I let define my life in an equally heavy way. I had an even more sinister group that I met up with on Tuesday nights at the local Ramen restaurant. If people hated the thought of Satanists in their town, just wait until they learned about the furries…

Those ears and tails were on full display inside Wang Chung’s Raman, with some even struggling to control their extra appendages in the limited space we had. The group took up more than half the restaurant when the meet began, and more continued to waltz on in every passing moment. Soon enough we had the run of the place, just as we did every week. Some were busy slurping ramen, while others were busy showing off different artwork, appendages, and even a partial fursuit or two, not to mention a few naughty things in private over their phones. It was a strange group for sure, but then again it was a group I felt right at home with.

I certainly scared a few of them with my appearance and my fursona, but I tried to tone down the darkness when I came to this meetup every week. It was kind of difficult as my fursona was a black furred Goat with blood red markings, and I made sure to wear my badge proudly on my chest to show him off every chance I could. But, most of the group had learned to tolerate me, and some even started to like me. After all, it wasn’t every day you could hang out with a Satanist at a furry meet. Plus, the food was good, so that was another reason for all of us to squeeze into that small place and tolerate each other for a bit, no matter what species or spiritual connections we might have.

I had taken my regular seat with my normal crew at a small table, only to be joined by my closest friends as they all put their orders in. A rather young fox named “Twitchy Paws”, an older Turtle named “Speedy”, and a wolf hybrid mix monstrosity thing just called “Dax” all gathered around, with big bowls between us, slurping away on what we had to eat. What their real names were I couldn’t say, but it wasn’t like anyone minded. I was more than happy to go by “Beelzebub” myself, proving that I was rather unoriginal when it came to choosing names. It had fit when I needed something, and it ended up sticking after the first few times I’d used it. There were certainly worse things I’d been called in my life, so I had little room to complain.

“So come on Bee,” Twitchy began once again after he finished slurping down a few more noodles from his bowl. “You can tell us. Which one of y’all stabbed that guy last week?”

“You’ve asked him that for the twelfth time by now!” Dax shot back, giving at look at the young and giggling fox… or human dressed up in fox ears and that long orange tail laying across the seat next to him. “He doesn’t know!”

I could only nod my head a little bit and smirk at that reaction. I did get tired of it sometimes, but for now, with as hard as Twitchy was pushing me for an answer, I couldn’t help but smile at his youthful determination. “If I knew I’d tell ya… and the police,” I added in between bites from my own bowl. “Just because someone was murdered doesn’t mean I know the person who did it. Lots of people get murdered by non-Satanists all the time ya know. Hell, I should ask you whether or not YOU know who did it! Furries ruin everything after all. Who’s to say YOU people don’t commit murders too?”

“Me?” Twitchy said with a slightly nervous, and over-dramatic gasp. “Why would I know anything?”

“Because you have to watch out for those foxes,” Speedy chimed in with a little chuckle, sending a small wave of them surging across the table.

“We’re sluts, not murderers!” Twitchy shot back, giving everyone a playful, but sharp glare.

“Did you ever think about how many sperm you’ve killed after they found their way up your butt instead of actually being useful?” Dax called out loud enough for a few nearby tables to hear us. “I’d say you’ve killed hundreds… thousands… millions of babies. Sounds like quite the vicious fox to me.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Twitchy whimpered back, but with all the grins peering back in on him, he could only blush and slouch in his seat a bit, giving in to the group consensus. “I don’t think I’ve killed any babies…” he mumbled under his breath, making everyone else give out a good heavy laugh at his expense.

“Come on guys,” Softie shouted back from a nearby table, one of the few females of the group. “One murder is bad enough, we don’t need to be killing babies.”

“But you’re a bunny,” I shot back with a smirk, looking more serious than I probably should have. “You can just make some more really quick.”

Needless to say, Softie and I didn’t usually match up on humor. Still, I couldn’t help but feel my smile grow a little wider as I enjoyed the way her eyes glared back at me from the comment. It got a few chuckles from everyone, along with couple rolls of some eyes as well, but in the end everyone began to relax and calm down, taking in the other silly conversations going on around us.

I almost always came back from that meeting in a better mood, and as I strolled back into my apartment I couldn’t help but smile to no one in particular. With a slow, full-bellied walk, I continued my way towards my bedroom. I flicked on the lights and made a slow turn when I entered, unclipping the badge from the corner of my shirt and attaching it the edge of the shelf I had mounted to the wall. Once it was secure, my eyes continued upwards from my badges resting place towards that large mound of dark fur resting comfortably on top. I saw those deep red eyes glaring back at me, and I imagined just how bright they would’ve shined if I turned on the lights inside that head. For a moment I considered it, and then I finally reached on up and pulled that fursuit head down into my grasp.

The fur felt so new, so unworn and soft, even though I’d had the whole suit for a few years. It was a stunning representation of my fursona, and I loved how it came out, matching my small army of badges rather well. Dark fur, curved horns, that evil glare, and those red streaks sliding down the facial curves, continuing on down to the rest of the suit body. They were certainly stunning to look at. It made me sad that I never had the energy or effort to really put it to good use. I gave a good ruffle to the head fur before just staring into its eyes for a long moment. It had cost me quite a bit to get it done, and here it was… staring back, almost begging me to put it on.

I did reach my hand underneath towards the switch for the eyes, flicking them on and letting the bright red glow dart into the room all around me. I marveled at it, I gawked at it, then when I was done, I shut off the switch and placed it back up on that dusty shelf, onto its little holding rack, back into the place it had been for a while now. Next time! Next Tuesday I’d have to wear it out to the meet. At the very least I needed to put on the head. I hadn’t even put on that stubby goat tail that came with it for ages. I would have to fix that. And I would… next week.

As I flicked off the light and turned toward my bed, I felt something send a slow shiver down my back. I looked around to catch the source of it, but all I could see was that head staring back down at me in the dull light remaining, with that evil little glare positioned just as I had left it. I stared back again, almost as if expecting it to start talking to me, as I definitely felt some kind of presence coming from it. But the longer I stood there, the sillier I felt. Finally, I pulled myself away from its gaze and began to walk towards my bed, although another soft twitch trailed down my back yet again. This time it wasn’t enough to get me to stop as I flicked over the covers, stripped down, and climbed on in. I gave one last look to that head, the one that constantly gazed over me while I slept, and I had one final moment of longing to put it on before my eyes finally closed for the night.

---

I thought that all of the excitement of the murder last week would’ve died down by next Sunday’s Mass, and it probably would’ve—if there hadn’t been another murder on Thursday night. As I pulled into my spot and reached for my normal case of beer, I could only imagine what the mood would be inside that house. I lived in a small town that wasn’t used to having one murder, much less two in a similar style with no clues or leads. And since I was also hanging out with some of the, well—let’s just say less trusted members of society, some having rather curious past times and interests, the general public had their eyes on us. And when I walked through the big doors of that house, I noticed that some in the congregation had their eyes on each other as well.

As I strolled up and gave a few high-fives and fist bumps to the regular crowd, I could tell that a few of them seemed a little more subdued than usual. I assumed it was from getting asked by all their other friends if they knew who the murderer was, because that’s all my local furry friends wanted to talk about for the past few days. I was still kind of finding it funny myself, and I gave off a few silly answers in response when I could, but some people weren’t as easy going as I was.

Then again, there was another section of the congregation that seemed rather excited to talk about the murders. Some happened to know everything that the police had said word for word, and were busy going over leads, details, and suspects. I overheard more than a few conversations as I waited for Arny to show up, and I even got sucked into one or two myself. I watched their eyes light up, and their thoughts swirl as they talked about the amount of stab wounds, the knife shape, who knew the victim well enough to sneak into their place at night. I wanted to believe that they were just interested in it, and loved a good puzzle or mystery, but I couldn’t help feeling like they were enjoying it a bit too much. Two people had been stabbed to death after all, in similar, but seemingly random circumstances. This wasn’t a movie or anything, this was actually happening. That thought left me a little quiet on the subject, much to the suspicion of a few of the others. I just laughed it off when one of them brought me up as a suspect, throwing in one sarcastic answer after another. “I’m too lazy to be a knife murderer. I’d stick to something easier like guns,” was my favorite, just dark enough to get the others to chuckle, but I could tell that there was still some tension hanging around in the air when the silence resumed once more.

Arny finally showed up just before the rituals were scheduled to begin, and I grabbed him a beer before I said, “Man, you’re missing so much. Everyone’s making such a big deal of this murder thing. They all think you’re the one behind them.”

“Me?” he smirked back as he popped open that top and took a sip. “Come on, there’s gotta be someone better than me. I’m too boring to be a murderer.”

“Well, I think everyone’s name has been mentioned at least once,” I started again with a small chuckle. “It’s nice to be part of the club.”

“Anyone in the lead?” Arty asked with a small smile underneath his facial hair.

“Last week’s suspect is out since this new murder has nothing to do with her. Could really be anybody at this point. Or, more likely, nobody here.”

“Let’s just hope we don’t have another one to talk about next week,” he said, adding a little huff and another strong sip. “I’m getting tired of all these accusations. It’s exhausting.”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said as I reached over and clanked my beer can against his. Just as the dull ring was fading from our ears, we heard the call to service – “Raining Blood” by Slayer starting to play over the stereo - leading everyone to finish off their drinks and start heading towards the basement of the house.

There were about 20 of us in total as we all pushed in to get a good spot, with our Priest standing up on a tiny little home-built stage at the end of the room. He was clad in a black cape with a red inner lining, along with a fancy dress up shirt, matte black in color of course, along with some black slacks. He was holding a large goblet of wine in his hand, something people rarely saw him without. He waited for the song to finish playing before turning off the audio from a control by his wooden pedestal, and then raising up his arms to call out to us.

“Welcome Children, brothers and sisters, to our weekly service. I did want to start off by saying that we are all aware of what’s going on in our town. It’s all fun and games to jokingly accuse, but if there are any serious allegations or evidence of wrongdoing, then the authorities need to be involved. I don’t care about the reasons behind anything, they are not for me, or anyone else, to meddle in. But, should anyone know anything about the murders, then it is in all of our best interests to make good use of that information and give it to those that need it. The church does not condone such acts for any reason, and I’m sure you’re all getting tired of being asked about them.”

He took a small pause as a few murmurs started to ring through the crowd, but no one spoke up louder than that. “Good,” he began again with a small nod, placing his goblet down onto his pedestal as his face turned from slightly annoyed into a small smile. “Now, onto more interesting matters. Today, as some tension is certainly in the air, we will be initiating a group-wide release of anger, aggression, and other destructive needs, to make sure you all leave relieved and clear of mind.”

“My favorite,” Arny whispered to me as he turned his head and gave me a smirk.

“I prefer the sexual releases myself,” I shot back with a grin myself, “But I guess I can pound something else for a change.”

---

It was always fun to break stuff, and I had to remember to bring in a few old things I had laying around to add to the stock pile next week. That old laptop I had would crush great underneath that sledgehammer for sure. But, as much physical fun as I had, I found myself right down on my knees in front of my altar when I got home.

I called out to my regular pals, and although I felt them call back, they seemed a bit distant today. A cold chill shot down my back as I once again looked at the list, still seeing that crossed out name, and feeling another small surge of cold race down over me as I tried not to look or think too much of it. I got up and grabbed a marker this time, really going over it heavy and hard, so only a dark black square was left where that name used to be. And then, as I stared at the paper, I crumpled it up and simply tossed it away. I would make a new list soon anyway, I didn’t need the reminder of that chilling name in my head all the time. I gave a few final kind words, and my offering of beer to my spiritual friends, before getting back up to put the marker back into my desk.

Once there I couldn’t help but look up at my fursuit head, who was still staring back down at me with that constant glare. I let out a small sigh. It was difficult to explain, but it almost seemed angry at me, as if I had promised it something yet not delivered.

“Alright, on Tuesday I’ll wear you, I promise,” I said out with a small groan, looking back up into its eyes and seeing that almost judging, controlling glare shoot back into my own. “I thought about wearing you today for a moment, but I figured with the new murder, it wasn’t a good time. But definitely Tuesday.”

With that off my chest, I tried to crack a small smile as I flicked off the lights. But, even as they shut down, I was left with the dull outline of that horned head staring back at me with all the little sources of light still blinking in my room. It was then I realized I couldn’t turn my gaze away, and the longer I stared at that fuzzy outline, the more I began to feel my heart rate pick up.

“Put it on…”

“I… what?”

I swear I heard someone say something in a hushed whisper. I jumped up and spun around, trying to pick up just where I’d heard it come from before looking back up at the head once again.

Whatever presence I had felt just a moment ago was now gone, leaving me alone once again. I shook my head to try and knock some sense into myself. “That had to be Baphomet… or one of the others…” I crept back towards my bed, and as I stood still at the edge of it I added, “He probably wanted to calm my mind… to relax me. Get this silly need of mine taken care of.”

With that thought to comfort me, I slipped off my clothing and slid myself into bed, closing my eyes before I could look back at that head staring down at me. “And I will… Tuesday.”

---

It’s funny how fast plans can change. I was ready to finally put that suit on, convincing myself to go for the full suit and scare those poor ramen owners, despite the air in the town still being a little uneasy. But, I woke up Tuesday morning to hear of yet another murder that was rocking the town. It was all anyone talked about at work, and I had a real feeling that the restaurant was going to be closed, as would the rest of the town, for fear of a killer being on the loose. It turned out that the ramen place was open, but only a smattering of members made it out to the meetup. I considered bringing my suit, especially after having a dream Monday night about wearing it out in public, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do that. I wanted to lay low for a bit and just let things pass. But, from the moment I walked into the place with even my badge hidden, I was quickly bombarded with questions.

Some were simple jokes about what kind of furry they had to sacrifice to what Demon in order to keep themselves safe, but some were far more serious, probing into what I knew and what went on at Mass on Sundays. Perhaps it was the fact that I wasn’t sleeping all too great recently, along with all those annoying questions, but my mood was beginning to sour on the subject. I didn’t even spend a lot of time at the meet. I tried to be courteous about it as I finished up my soup and simply left, but I knew that a few people were still talking about me afterwards, going by texts I got from Dax and Speedy.

I didn’t care though, I just wanted to be somewhere that no one could bother me for a moment, and my apartment was a great place to do that. I strolled in and made my way to my bedroom, unclipping my badge and hanging it on the shelf, before looking up at that unused fursuit head again. I could feel that presence, that need calling out to me, and I swear I heard another whisper of ‘put it on’ inside my head as I continued to stare at it. But, with a grit to my teeth, and a little grumble from my throat, I simply said back, “No, I’m not putting you on! I’m not in the mood.” I tried to turn away from him, but my eyes locked onto his cold, dead, lifeless ones, and I couldn’t help but be frozen in place.

”Put it on,” that voice whispered again, and this time there was no doubt in my mind that I heard it. Not even the inanimate objects in my life would leave me alone now! Was it not enough that all my friends wouldn’t stop talking about these damn murders? With a heavy yank backwards, I shook my head free of its grasp. I reached up with my hand and grabbed it by a horn, yanking it down and off the shelf with a frustrated grunt. I let it hang at my side as I didn’t dare look at it

I stomped over towards the closet and opened the door. I was about to chuck the head inside and slam it closed, but at the last moment I stopped myself. Instead of potentially damaging something so valuable, I gave it a gentle plop down onto the container that held the rest of my fursuit, giving it one last passing glance before closing the door on it.

I gave myself a second to catch my breath and let a few heavy twitches make their way out of my system. I closed my eyes and called out for Baphomet, and although the feeling I got from him was weak and distant, it did eventually show up and send a calming wave across my body. I took it all in and enjoyed the feeling, and as I turned my head to look up at that empty shelf, I felt a little extra relief as that head was now out of sight. I needed a break from everything, both furry and Satanist, and that’s just what I planned to do until Sunday. Just a regular, normal week to relax and reset. All these murders had driven me crazy just as much as the rest of the town, and some time to myself would be just what I needed.

After my little rush of emotion made its way out of me, I was able to crawl into bed and actually have a good night’s sleep for once. I woke up refreshed, and after a day or two I began to feel better than I had in a while. The town was still talking about the murders, but with no clues or leads to go on, the news was starting to run out of things to say. The story began to fade away once again, as did the constant barrage from my furry and Satanist friends about it, and I really began to feel more relaxed. That was, until I woke up that Saturday morning to find my fursuit head staring back at me.

---

It took me a moment to realize that it was back up and I rolled out of bed and gave off a yawn, but after doing a double, then a triple take, my mind really began to process what it was seeing. I slid out of bed with a weak shuffle and crept over towards it, reaching out to slowly brush the back of my hand against the fur along its base, as if to check if it was real. Sure enough it was there, staring back at me with those large lifeless eyes. Its jaw also seemed to be just crooked enough to leave it smirking back down at me, as if it took pleasure at my surprise of seeing it there.

I couldn’t remember putting it back on the shelf, and I was pretty sure I hadn’t done anything too crazy last night to make me forget. I tried to think back, recounting every step I made after I got home from the bar, but I wasn’t all that drunk. My mind was clear, and at no point did I remember going into the closet and taking the head out. I was pretty sure it wasn’t already out either, as I had looked at that empty shelf on my way out. But… I must have put it back. How else could it have gotten back up on the shelf?

I took my time and just stared at it, giving me the opportunity to process some things in my mind, but eventually I just had to sigh and let it go. I pulled my hand back with a slow slump to my side, shook my head, and made my way to the bathroom. Whatever; it was up on the shelf again, even though I couldn’t really say I’d missed it all that much. My sour mood over it had disappeared with a few nights of good sleep, and it was probably time it took its rightful place up on that shelf once again anyway. I had installed that shelf specifically for the head after all. Nevertheless, I didn’t even pay it any more attention when I walked back in and reached for my phone, but the moment I unlocked it I saw a barrage of messages waiting for me on the home screen.

I quickly began to click through them, with most being from my furry friends, all asking me about the news this morning. I didn’t bother to reply to any of them before I did a quick search of the local news and pulled up the lead story. “Possible break in Serial Stabber Case” the headline screamed, and as I scrolled down a little lower I clicked on the video. It was some security camera footage, caught in the late hours of the night. It was dull and grainy, lit by a single light of some lone streetlight in town, but what it showed was enough to make me gulp down a small gasp.

Nothing happened for a few moments, before a body was suddenly swung into the alleyway, with another figure pushing it up against the wall. Both were just vague outlines as the camera was old and really poor, and also filming at one frame every two seconds, but it was clear to see there was a struggle: one figure was stabbing the other quite a few times in the stomach, chest, and sides. The two struggled like this for a while before the one getting stabbed slumped to the ground, leaving the camera with enough resolution to show the murderer by himself. Zoomed in and ‘digitally enhanced’ by the news, there appeared to be the outline of two horns and two unnaturally large eyes shooting back at the camera for just a split moment, not to mention the extended jaw and cheek dimensions that made it look like a costume’s head.

It was just blurry enough to where I couldn’t be sure, but as the newscast read down the estimated weight and height of the figure, the numbers weren’t all too far off from my own proportions. I felt another gasp catch in my throat as I slowly let my eyes slide up towards the fursuit head on my shelf, grinning back wider now that I’d seen the video.

I got up to inspect that head again, pulling it down and looking it over with slow and methodical glances. I didn’t know what I was even looking for at that moment. Maybe something to tell me that I was either crazy or possessed. I kept my glare off its eyes as I focused on the rest of it, turning it around and spinning it in my hands, finding no answer that spoke to my craziness or possession as the dark fur didn’t seem to have any secrets. Although the fur definitely felt a little rougher than I remembered.

“This is all crazy,” I said to no one in particular, finally shaking my head to clear the thoughts from my mind. I chalked it up to my being paranoid, and after a good few moments of looking it over I just sighed and let it slump in my grasp, holding it up by a horn at the side of my body. “I must have just put it up there and forgot, and people can see whatever they want to in that blurry picture, including horns. It’s probably just a lighting glitch or something…”

Saying those words out loud made me feel a bit better as I gave one more look at that fursuit head, and then heaved it back onto the shelf. I was letting it get to me as I stared back into its eyes for another moment, and once again thought I heard someone say ”put it on” loud enough to echo through my mind. I broke the gaze yet again and went to grab my phone, before making my way out towards my living room so I didn’t have to stare up at that head for longer than I needed to.

I responded to all the texts while doing my best to keep my mood light and joking like normal. It turned out that most people were on my side about shadows messing up the picture to make it look like my fursuit head. I didn’t wear it much, but I had worn it a few times in the past, and most of my friends knew what it looked like from the one or two pictures I kept on my phone. They had the same vivid imaginations I had, so it wasn’t surprising that they thought they could see me in the footage.

But there were still those that seemed a little too honest about believing I was the one running around and stabbing people. I let them believe what they wanted to believe, although the whole day I did keep one eye looking out the window, just in case any police officers showed up. Thankfully they didn’t, and I spent the day locked in my apartment, catching up on some gaming I’d been missing out on. It wasn’t worth heading out, so I decided to lay low for a bit and let the whole thing blow over.

By the time I was ready to go to sleep, I was feeling a little better about everything, as most of the buzz had died down. Even my fear about the police busting down my door had left. I knew I was probably going to get some heat at Church tomorrow for it, but I’d handle that when the time came. For now I was ready to crawl back into bed, giving one last look at that head staring back at me, before shutting my eyes and heading off to sleep.

---

Not long after closing my eyes I was thrust into a rather vivid dream. I was fursuitting out in public, walking down the streets of my local town. It was dark, or so it seemed inside the head anyway, but I still had a nice and happy sway to my stride as I felt the hot fabric clench tightly to my sweating frame. I didn’t know why I was walking down the street alone, but I didn’t think too much of it at the time. I was more than happy just looking around through my limited view, and enjoying that strong character presence that I usually couldn’t muster with my human self. I felt that I was carrying something in my paw, but I couldn’t really get a good look at it, and it didn’t really occur to me to try either.

It wasn’t too different from the dreams I had been having, and I did remember always feeling just a little distant – like I wasn’t actually the one controlling my body. Yet, there was something different about tonight. This time I could feel a strong stabbing pain in my side, leaving me to slowly reach a paw up and try to give it a comforting rub.

“I wouldn’t do that,” a voice suddenly said inside my head, causing me to gasp and stop in my stride with a little stumble. “Guess I couldn’t hold you forever, could I?” it continued with a soft reverberating chuckle. “No matter, our time is short anyway. Tonight we will have to do all we can. They know. They’re onto us.”

“W…who are you?” I struggled to say through my own mouth, feeling the words slur quite a bit. It was the same for my other motions as well, as my paw struggled to make its way up towards my side. It was as if I was trying to move inside a vat of maple syrup. Everything was slow, labored, and restricted as my paw felt like it weighted a hundred pounds.

“You should know,” the voice rung in my head. “You called for me to visit, and I found a perfect vessel I could use.” The voice went silent for a moment, as if to draw out the tension, before continuing with, “Does the name Keres ring any bells? That cold shiver down your spine each time you said it? The similar shiver you felt when staring into the eyes of your little costume? One in the same. The Goddess of Death is at your service. Or, more correctly, you’re in mine.”

“No…” I said back, feeling my hand finally make it towards my side to caress the ache, feeling a warm burn shoot through me as I applied some pressure. “You can’t be…”

“Why not?” the voice responded sharply. “I’m as real as any other demon you’ve called, but the only difference is that I have a mission. The title “Goddess of Death” doesn’t come from nothing, and I have a quota.”

“No… not me…” I squeaked out through grit teeth. “I have… protections…”

“Ha!” the more female voice shot out, its tone mocking and derisive, a form befitting to such a demon. “Those pathetic things? Hun, you’re messing with powers you don’t even understand, so how can you expect to protect yourself against them? You called me, you offered me sustenance, and now I will give you my powers. Although, that last victim fought back even harder than I expected. Don’t worry about the blood loss though, we’re on borrowed time. The police are closing in, and I need as many lives as I can get.”

It was at that point I felt my hand jerk away from my side, and my legs shift forward. I groaned as the strain in my side moved from a throb into a stabbing pain, but the demoness inside my head didn’t even bother taking notice. She drove me on, my actions matching her will and leaving me helpless to do anything but grunt and strain against her control.

At that moment I watched an older man slowly duck out from a side street and right into my path. Before I could say or do anything, and even before my eyes really locked on him, I felt my fuzzy frame surge towards him. My body slammed into his body, and I pushed him back into the alleyway, as my paw carrying that object pushed forwards into him. I felt that knife slice through his jacket, flesh, and sink into his gut, just like I was cutting into a steak. I was powerless to stop it. I couldn’t even say anything, unable to even scream out inside my own mind. I was simply a passenger as my body ran on auto pilot, watching the man’s face twist and turn in dying agony as a set of brutal gasps escaped his mouth.

One stab… two stabs… then ten grunting stabs flew into his gut before even a few seconds had passed, leaving him no time to do more than gasp and shake at the force of the attack. He didn’t even have time to lift his hands in defense before his abdomen was all cut to shreds, leaving his guts dangling like strained noodles, and his thrashing frame weakly trying to push away. It only took a few more bloody stabs to his side to get him to go into shock. He tensed up and fell back against that alleyway wall, with my body taking a step back to watch for a sickening moment.

Blood was still dripping from the knife in my paw, and I could tell it was splattered all over my suit’s expertly crafted fur. It made all the follicles stick together, making it that much harder to move the more the blood soaked in and dried.

“Another down,” the voice said inside my head with a heavy squeal of delight. “Think we can get one more before the police get you? We’ve been spotted, those sirens are on the way. Can you hear them growing louder and louder?”

“No… stop,” I called back, fighting as hard as I could to get that much out at least, while my eyes focused on the coughing and sputtering man on the ground, twitching away in his last moments of life.

“Oh, there’s no stopping,” she said with another hearty chuckle. “I’m using you for all you’re worth. I haven’t had this much of a release for quite some time.”

With those words ringing in my head, I felt my body speed off and run. It was rather difficult to do in those goat-like clanking hooves, but the demon managed to work around it as best as she could. I ran just about as fast as I’d ever run from the noise of those sirens, seeing the vague colors of blue and red flashing on the distant trees behind me.

I gave one last struggling surge for control as the demon pressed forth, giving all my energy into stopping that full-fledged sprint. I did cause my body to stumble just a little bit as I did battle with the demon inside, but with an exhausted groan I felt unable to do any more. She pushed my body to its limits, leaving me panting and gasping for air inside that hot suit while my eyes scanned for any other victims. All the while those sirens got closer and closer each passing second.

The demon never panicked, but she did seem eager to find another body to take as my endurance was quickly fading away. Then she got just the break she needed, with my mind too tired to really fight back. I looked up to see the front door to one of the houses I was passing open up, with a human head peaking outside into the cold night. In the darkness my suit almost blended in, and I began to take advantage of the situation. She had no idea I had turned towards her and was running as fast as my tired legs could carry me. She had no idea that the knife in my paw was held up, ready to sink into her chest, until my foot finally hit the bottom stair of her porch. By then it was too late as she let out a gasp, but stayed frozen in place by the sight of the hellish beast in front of her.

In no time I had plunged the knife into her gut, using all my momentum to make sure everything but the handle sunk in. I used the collisions momentum to push her back as I pulled back on the knife, sliding it free of her insides, before I jabbed it forwards again, not even letting her get the scream out of her lungs. Ruthless efficiency flew over me as my paw shot forwards again and again, making each stab to her stomach and side count, before she too began to go limp and gurgle in near death spasms just past her doorway.

She fell with a thud, and I took a moment to examine my handiwork on the body and catch my breath. I could barely make out the dying look of her face through the little grating covering my eyes, but it sent a cold shiver down my spine, much like I had felt each time I stared into the eyes of my suit.

I didn’t get to enjoy the rest for long before I heard the sound of a revving engine and loud siren behind me. That caused me to spin around and stare at that single car, with two others pulling up right beside it a few moments later.

The flashing lights and sirens told me everything I needed to know, and even before those cars pulled to a stop, the police inside were already jumping out with their guns drawn. Two, then four, then six aimed their guns at me, with the blood dripping knife still in my paw. They shouted a few things that all mixed together into one mumbled mess of noise and took aim, leaving me staring down multiple barrels.

I was exhausted, but at the same time I felt one last surge of energy shoot through my system. I raised my knife up one last time and began to charge, rushing down those steps towards the closest car I could. I made it down one, then two, then almost placed my foot on solid concrete, before the first shots rang through my ears and I felt a burning pain through my shoulder and inside my chest. I stumbled on, though my vision turned hazy, but after what felt like the tenth stinging shot to my chest I finally had enough. With a strong grunt I felt myself falling, the knife clattering down onto the concrete walkway as my next breath tasted like burning, coppery acid bubbling up from the back of my throat.

I hit the ground and slid forwards a few inches with a soft bounce, but I came to a stop far short of the police car I was aiming for. I gave off a heavy wince as the pain started to build and catch up to me, feeling a final cold shiver shoot through as I struggled to get another lung full of air, only getting another gurgle of blood inside my throat.

“See you in Hell,” I heard that soft, sedated, feminine voice say one last time, before giving off one final jerk to my frame and leaving me to take my few final, struggling breaths alone.