FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Author's Note:

The chapters in this story do not all follow the same world. Some are their own thing, and others share characters with a handful of other chapters.

I created this just to get the creative juices flowing for AnthroLand: Alpha, but then it kind of became its own thing.

I have no official end chapter planned for this, nor do I have a next chapter planned. It all depends on my brain's sporadic nature.

_But, with all that out of the way, if you do find these chapters a good read, then...hell yeah, I guess.

____

Night time.

It’s a black tie event in a fancy ballroom, so of course no one’s in their street clothes. Everyone’s having a good time, the brown-haired Ezra’s linking arms with his beautiful black wife Aleena, and both stand among a group of rich donors.

Just one month ago, on a foreign planet, he traveled with a small troupe of dangerous creatures that weren’t even human. One look at him, and you’d mistake him for a serial killer. His eyes matched the animals he fought alongside with: serious, cold, and decisive.

Now, things were different. The emotions that radiate from his warm and inviting eyes make it seem as if he’d never committed any atrocities.

Joyous laughter erupts from the group he stood in. What was it? Well, you just had to be there.

“Pizza bagel, sir?” An African accent hits Ezra from his right.

It’s a black woman with the most gorgeous amber eyes. Serious, calm, and with large irises that hide away the sclera. Her Afro is similar to Aleena’s, as is the skin tone, but the difference lied in her attire: white dress shirt, and pitch black dress pants; with polished black dress shoes to match. She was a worker, after all.

“Yes, please.” Gently, Ezra used his right arm—the only arm he had—to pick up a pizza bagel, and take his first bite. Flaky, warm, and just the right amount of salty. “Thank you.”

“Anything else, sir?” She didn’t move a muscle; looking at him seriously.

“That’s all, thank you.” He holds up his bagel, dismissing her. “Stay nearby though. I definitely want more of these.”

With a bow, she leaves to attend for more groups; though she’s never more than a few steps away.

“You know…” The voice of a donor brought his attention back to the group. “...I always knew you two would end up together. Seeing you two always hanging out after work, and all.”

“Yeah…” For a moment, he looked at the floor as he nodded. “…there was some turbulence, but I eventually came to my senses.”

“You’re telling me. For a moment, I really thought you were going to stick your dick in one of those filthy animals.” None of them, except for the donor, were observant enough to see the small reactive twitch in his right eye right after he said that.

The insult even managed to catch the attention of the amber-eyed worker who seemed to be watching Ezra. “Uh...no offense.” The donor weakly uttered.

“You know what, it’s fine.” He used the one arm he had left to lovingly lock fingers with his wife. “I’m with Aleena now. That’s what matters, right?”

“Indeed.” The offender gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Say, Ezra…” The offender’s wife just can’t help but look at the missing arm. “...I’ve been meaning to ask.”

Her eyes told Ezra all he needed to know. “About my arm?”

“Is that rude of me?”

“Oh, no.” His arm waves in reassurance. “It’s fine. Talking about it isn’t nearly as bad as the day I lost it.”

The entire group looked attentively at him; finally, he was willing to talk about something pertaining to the extraterrestrial hellhole he was stuck on.

“In case you’re wondering, no, I didn’t lose it in a fight. It’s actually kind of a lame story.” His eyes just couldn’t help but look to the arm that wasn’t there. “I got a minor scratch on my upper bicep from one of my many fights. Some animal that wanted me for dinner. I’d gotten cuts much like it before, but this one decided to get infected. Unfortunately, antibiotics weren’t a thing on that planet, so all I could do was lay down, and-”

He could still remember the female Hyena that towered over him as he laid. Her chest was bandaged, to tame her huge tits, and she wore an animal skirt; much like the one he wore in that moment. She was by no means weak; with abs that could deflect bullets, and limbs that could potentially squat a semi-truck; yet they still had that feminine smoothness between different muscles rather than the sharp definitions he wore.

Whoever she was, her hazel eyes looked down at him with petrifaction.

“-and let one of my companions cut it off.” There was a sharp turn in his tone just them; serious, and shaky.

For some reason, even the black worker from earlier was paying attention.

“She was strong. Really strong. One swipe, and off it went.”

His screams of horror echoed throughout his mind. It was really off. His arm was no longer attached. Lots of blood made a break for the outside world now that it had the chance.

“Like an axe to a twig...”

A deep nausea flooded his abs; one that he couldn’t control. He swore he was going to throw up, but like American oaths of peace, it never happened.

His companion, seeing this, couldn’t help but cover her mouth in disgust. The other one, a furry that looked like a Cheetah with inverse colors, was more calm about the situation.

“Breathe, Ezra.” Her amber eyes looked down at him as she placed her pink hand pads on his chest to keep him down. Like the worker, her voice was reminiscent of a smooth talking African woman. “The hardest part’s over.”

The hardest part hadn’t even begun.

Right on his open wound, the Hyena hovered a hand over his amputation, and seared his skin shut with fire that flowed from her palm.

What do you do when painkillers haven’t been invented? You grit your teeth, bite down on something solid, and scream.

It was a pain that didn’t leave him alone to this day.

Consciousness was in and out at this point. Who needs blood, anyway?

Next thing he knew, he was riding piggy back on the strong back of the Hyena. She was running alongside the Cheetah, and in a hurry.

“He’s going pale!” The Cheetah’s calmness had vanished; in its place, fear and panic.

“Dammit Ezra, don’t you die on me!” The Hyena, meanwhile, had a voice that could star in any rock band. Gravelly, and deep.

Another fade.

“Stay with me, Ezra!” Now, he was seated against a thick tree. The Cheetah snapped her fingers, but it was no good. He was going to pass out. “Ezra!”

“Ezra!” His black wife shook him once more. Now, he was back. A/C; tiled floor; humans that looked concerned for a change.

Ezra took a moment to analyze his surroundings with his horrified eyes. No animal skirt; though it felt odd to not wear it after having it for so long.

Then, his eyes slowly scanned the other patrons. Sure enough, all concerned.

“I-” His eyes close. Breathe in, breathe out. Once he felt like he was calm, he opened them once more to a more calm expression. “I’m sorry. Guess I zoned out there.”

“No, it’s my fault.” The offender’s wife couldn’t help but look ashamed. “I asked the insensitive question.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what you must have gone through on that planet.” The offender’s filthy hands seared as he pats Ezra on the arm. At least, that’s what it felt like to Ezra. “You’re the toughest SOB in this room. More than all of us combined, that’s for sure.”

“Can we please talk about something else?” Ezra’s wife intervenes. “I don’t want him to think about that horrible place anymore.” Her smooth and thin arms wrap around him, and he just can’t help but analyze them.

They’re so thin. He’d grown used to seeing everyone with great definition to their arms; even the smaller creatures. To not have them was practically a death sentence; it told predators that you would be an easy meal.

“It’s hard to think about anything else when I look at you, honey.”

Words that triggered an aw from everyone except the worker; she rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I think I need a smoke after that line.” Says the offender with a disapproving tone.

“I could use one myself.” States Ezra, much to the confusion of everyone around him.

“Since when do you smoke?” Asked the offender.

“I mean, I’ve done worse.” He grips at the socket where his arm used to be, much to the entertained laughter of the offender.

“Alright! Looks like Ezra’s learned how to party!”

“Lead the way.” Ezra looked at the worker as he said those words. The two seemed to share an eagerness for...something.

She, however, seemed preoccupied with a nuisance of her own. A black man that just couldn’t get our of her way. “I ain’t ever seen a baddy with eyes like these. Let me get them digits, girl.”

Now, the two human men stood outside, and calmly inhaled the relaxing cancer smoke into their lungs. As they did so, the offender maintained a look of skepticism.

“For a new smoker, you sure know how to handle a cigarette.” The offender takes a puff, and exhales.

Ezra joined him. Puff, exhale. No words, however.

“Something wrong, Ezra? You’ve been quiet ever since we set foot out here.” Yet, all he saw was the same. Puff, exhale.

Whatever was on Ezra’s mind, it had to be serious. He looked as if he’d just seen his wife fuck another man.

Then, from behind, both could hear the sound of dress shoes slowly making their way over. Only the offender turned around, however.

“Oh, it’s you.” The worker from before. “You want one? I’ve got plenty.” With the gentle shake of his hand, he frees part of a cigarette from the carton; just enough for her to grab onto.

She does not, however. Instead, the instant she steps outside, the door seems to close on its own slowly.

Something else that’s odd: she’s still walking, yet her shoes no longer make any noise.

“Uh...okay.” He looks back to Ezra. The cigarette between his fingers slowly vanished; like the opacity was slowly set to zero. “What the hell?”

He looks back to the worker. To his shock, the inverse Cheetah stood in her place. What was once dress attire was now small bandaged boobs, and an animal skin skirt.

In his panic, he tried screaming for help, but her instantaneous movements had other plans; she blocked his mouth before he could make a loud noise.

One sound was obvious; a muffled cry for help directed at Ezra. Judging from the look on his face, however, help seemed to be the last thing Ezra was offering.

It was at this point that the offender realized who he was looking at. It wasn’t Ezra the rescued, it was Ezra the feral.

He hadn’t changed at all.

Now, the human and the furry stood alongside each other. Where did the offender go? No one will ever know.

He took the time to ensure that the last of the blood was wiped from his hand; with the help of his friend, of course. Then, he sets the bloody rag ablaze with a fire that sparked from his fingertips. No evidence left behind.

With a deep inhale, the furry’s form slowly faded into that of the human worker she pretended to be before.

Then, an exhale, and a nod directed at Ezra.

Neither one said a word. First he stepped in, and then she followed.

Now, there was three of them walking. Ezra, the alien in disguise, and the mirage of the offender he snapped into existence.

The white Sistine-Chapel-esque ceiling of what used to be a ballroom comes crashing down onto the checkerboard wood that makes up the floor.

The two that stood below the oncoming debris—a primitively dressed Cheetah with inverse colors, and a white man in all black—instinctively jump back. However, one doesn’t dare take their eyes off the other.

The debris crashes against the wooden floor with a loud crash, and with it went the visibility in the room as dust scattered in all places. The white man had no choice but to remove his sunglasses; his already inferior human night vision had him at a disadvantage now that the ballroom’s light has been replaced by the darkness of a light polluted night sky. The Cheetah, however, could make her surroundings out perfectly once the dust settled.

From the animalistic ears on her head, down to her digitigrade toes, there wasn’t a scratch on her; not on her bandaged b-cups, not on her predominantly black fur, and not on the brown primitive caveman-like skirt that went down to her knees.

Her well being was secondary, however. Slowly, her head turns; and with them, the large amber irises that eclipse the whites of her serious eyes move left and right.

Let’s see…

Brown-draped windows? Not what she’s looking for.

Fancy white 16th century-esque fancy wall paneling all over the place? Disgustingly pretentious, as her human companion used to say. Especially with the hints of yellow that go with it.

A centered fireplace at the back of the predominantly white room? Negative.

A white man in a black windbreaker, jeans, and combat boots? Bingo.

Unfortunately, he’d spotted her as well. The night vision goggles that now aid his eyes allows him to sidestep the debris she chucked at his jugular.

A move to worsen his already poor opinion of her. “Nice try, furry whore.”

“Hmph.” From her skirt, she draws a small dagger made of bones and leather strips. “I don’t have time to waste on you.” Says the African-accented feline.

“If you wanna die, go right ahead and try me.” He assumed his own knife-wielding stance. “We’ve disabled electric manipulation for hundreds of miles. You’re slow, and powerless.”

Even if what he said was true, her natural speed was still insane. Fast enough to go from 0-120 in a single second.

With a leap, her dagger meets his metallic counterpart with a loud cling that echoes throughout the room. At that speed, the clash forced his heels to screech as he grits his teeth and tries to stop himself from sliding.

The overwhelming confidence within him had vanished along with some of the tread from his shoes. ‘Holy shit, she’s strong!’ He thinks to himself.

In this small moment, he was able to notice the size of her currently flexed arm. Definitely more than the average human woman, yet just as smooth thanks to how her fur defines muscle.

He tries for a counter-swipe, but she kicks him in the chest to flip back.

She doesn’t relent in her offense; instead, she runs at him again, and engages the man in a dance of swiping, and evasion.

Neither one could find an opening for a clean swipe. Every time they tried, the other dodged, or blocked.

It didn’t take long for him to see that he was still at a disadvantage, as her quick arms moved faster, and faster.

Soon, she found herself landing more hits against him than he could block.

The ground beneath them quaked, and they were forced to separate once more. The Cheetah was surprised to see that a large tree began to sprout from the wooden ground; and with it, the man moved as well, sitting on one of its many great branches.

A loud groan escaped from the human man’s throat. He had time to think now that he was gaining distance from the foe that stared him down. ‘ __Come on, Ezra. You taught this thing martial arts? Seriously?_ ’_

You want to know something interesting about this Cheetah? Her fur color isn’t just happenstance. In addition to her obvious Cheetah ancestry, she also descends from black Panthers.

You wanna know what Panthers are good at?

It seemed almost instinctual for her to hide away her dagger, and dart for the large tree on all fours. Her transition from floor to tree was flawless; and with it, her four-legged sprint towards Johnny Appleseed.

He tried his damnest to impale her. Yet, with every new tree limb that forms beneath her feet, she seemed to know about them before their pointed ends had begun to spout. Every dodge, weave, and leap deepened the pit in the man’s already nauseated stomach.

Now, panicked, all he could think of was fleeing. A wall of branches sprout between her, and the target that was almost within her reach. These, however, continued to grow in vine-like bends that followed her wherever she ran.

She had no choice but to turn, and run towards the ground. This was on top of the sharp branches that continued to sprout beneath her.

Even with her great speed, this many obstacles proved too great. She was forced to leap from the tree, falling with a speed that the following tentacles still had difficulty matching.

‘Now I’ve gotcha!’ There was nowhere for her to go now that she was at the mercy of gravity. Out flew a sharp limb, from the trunk of the tree, timed to impale her side.

But she wasn’t out of the fight. She uses the killer grip of her right hand to follow the sharp tip as it made its way towards one of the ballroom’s walls.

‘She grabbed the fucking tip?’ Her quick movements, and reaction time, were proving to be quite the problem.

There she stood, on the very limb where he’d declared victory, and it just pissed him off.

He just couldn’t help but vent his frustrations with an ear-shattering scream. With it, the plant life began to sprout in all directions without any target in mind. Still, the Cheetah graciously evades any limbs that threatened to give her a new asshole.

“Now there’s nowhere for you to run!” In surfs the frustrated man on a vine-like limb made just for him. Of course, it was hard to see her in the thick of it all, so the tradeoff to his new strategy was that he once more had to approach her.

Only this time, the terrain was his to control.

Anywhere she decided to run, limbs attempted to crush her, or block her path. It made running at full speed difficult.

It was more of a series of evasive dances than sprinting. Round and round the man she went; avoiding close encounters with her maker as she does so.

Her lack of offense gave the man the confidence he needed to run in, and attempt more swipes at her juggular. The difference with this encounter was that any attempts at a counter-attack from her were blocked by his voluntarily controlled forest.

Finally, he snags one of her hands with a tiny vine.

“Aha!” Short-lived celebration from the man that had his knife kicked from his hands. Then, followed his face, and the woody restraint that she snaps with a single blow. ‘Of course she’s flexible!’

The clatter of his goggles could be heard right beneath her feet. A curious meow escaped her lips. ‘< __Hello...what do I have here?_ >’_

Judging by his haphazard head turning, she knew he was blind. The sound of crunchy plastic and metal soon followed.

“There.” And just for added measure, she steps on it several more times. “Now you can’t see. Isn’t that right, human?”

His head turns in her direction, but his eyes do not focus on hers. Instead, he raises his hands, and prepares to squat.

“I don’t need vision to kill your ass!”

The urge to flee flooded into her at that very moment. Whatever he was about to do could not be allowed; especially since her surroundings didn’t allow for a speedy getaway.

The clock was ticking. Any hesitation, slowdown, or snag would kill her.

She drew her blade once more. Taking the time to hold it properly wasn’t an option, instead opting to fling it right from her hip.

Bullseye. Right between the eyes; just before his palms could make contact with the ground.

Now, there he lays, eyes wide open.

‘<Having my powers would have made this much easier.>’ She raises her hands, and watches as mere sparks of electricity form around them. ‘<Nope. Still nothing.>’

In the nose of certain animals, there exists an organ that allows them to detect pheromones. You may have noticed this organ in action whenever your dog looks like he’s savoring something, or when your cat looks at you with a look of great offense.

The technical name is the vomeronasal organ. But, that’s a mouthfull, which is why we also call it Jacobson’s organ.

This organ is present in many animals. Horses, big cats, reptiles, turtles, elephants; all over, really. It’s an important body part that the animals would go extinct without.

That brings us to the human body. You have a nose. You know what you can smell, and what you can’t. The ability to smell pheromones would’ve been obvious to you by the time you were thirteen. That is to say, human beings don’t have a Jacobson’s organ. Not one that works, anyway.

Of course, there’s an exception to every rule.

“So…” In front of a chubby brown-haired human male stood an odd being. “You...uh...Ezruh?” Whatever it is, it has to be female. That’s what her black furred titties, and soft female voice, told his instincts.

She was such an oddity, that her ability to speak broken English hadn’t even registered as odd. After all, he was on a foreign planet with limited human contact. How was it exactly that this bipedal feline knew English?

“Yeah…” He couldn’t lie; her very presence made his heart scream “danger” with every beat. He was never good with wild animals. Every image of a big cat he’d ever seen was prefaced with some kind of kill.

And those quadrupedal cats are stupid.

It also didn’t help that her serious amber eyes refused to let him out of her sight. They were fixed on him; like the smallest move he made would have consequences.

“Me Kuua.” She raises a clawed hand. Sharp claws, yet the way they poked against her predominantly black fur was gentle. Some of her claws even touched one of many amber spots that covered her body. “Her Serena.”

And I hadn’t even mentioned the feline’s larger companion. Seven feet tall to the feline’s five.

“<How the hell are ya!>” Serena says in the planet’s main language. As friendly as the hyena-like beast was, however, raising her palm to the six foot man, his first instinct was to cower backwards. Quickly.

Not like he didn’t have a reason to. This woman was jacked! The definition to her large muscles wasn’t sharp, as is the case with humans. Rather, the transition from one muscle to another was smooth thanks to the way muscle interacts with fur.

You still wouldn’t want to get punched by her. Just one of her arms looked to be as wide as his head.

For a moment, Serena looked stunned. What followed was a hearty laugh and a playful slap to the feline she forced to lean forward. “<You really know how to pick em, Kuua! This thing’s pathetic!>”

Kuua once more stands tall. “<Well, don’t get used to that. We need him to grow big and strong if we’re to succeed.>”

“<I don’t know...>” She gives him a quick scan from head to toe. It wasn’t just his quivering brown eyes that got her. It was also his flabby limbs, chubby cheeks, and borderline obese buddha belly that made her squint. “<He looks better suited for licking my toes than helping us out.>”

“<I know that he’s a little...>” The right words just couldn’t escape the feline’s black lips. “<...look, just don’t touch him, alright? I know what I saw.>”

“<I hope you’re right. Cause if he turns out to be a dud, I’m gonna break him. After I whip him into shape.>”

“<When have I ever been wrong?>”

“<Wh->”

“<OTHER than the time I tried to sneak past the male Lions during their mating season!>”

A soft groan escaped the tall Hyena’s mouth. “<...fine. I’ll give him a chance, but I don’t like this!”> Wherever she was going, it seemed better than here.

“<That’s fine. The end results will speak for themselves.>” She claps her pink hand pads together. “<Now...>” Her attention turns to the confused, and startled, human being that twitches nervously when her serious amber eyes fall on him once more. “We...uh...smell...now.”

He paused, processing her words with skepticism. “...we what now?”

He didn’t mishear her. The sounds of her deep and slow sniffing creeped him out too much to stay there a second longer. “Hey! Whoa now!” More recoiling. Only this time, his hands were up defensively.

She only tilted her head in confusion. “What wrong?”

“Why are you sniffing me?”

“For know scent. Duh.” It was as if a lightbulb went off in her head. “Humans no...uh...sniff?”

“No! Humans no sniff!” He says, mimicking her broken English with a mixture of teasing, and being weirded out. Mainly the latter.

Now that she thought back to when she first saw him, he was the only human that was able to pick up on her pheromones when she was invisible. It only stands to reason that human civilization does not operate around scents.

“Look!” He nervously extends his hand out to her. “I’ll shake hands, but that’s it!”

‘<This must be some kind of human greeting.>’ The confusion on her face gave Ezra his own lightbulb moment.

“Do you not shake hands here?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “What it...uh...mean?”

“It means…” He couldn’t believe that the definition of a handshake escaped him at this very moment. “...uh, doesn’t matter. It’s just how we say hello.” To him, handshaking has always just been what you do. Any significance to it has been overlooked. Until now.

“O...kay?” Before she touched his hand, however, she paused. “Wait. Only fair we...uh...hello yours, you hello ours.”

“What?” It clicked right as he’d said that. “Oh. Uh...I guess it would be fair to do it both ways.”

Something he hadn’t noticed was that he’d calmed down significantly in such a short amount of time. Kuua knew the reason for this, and it had to do with the way certain animals process pheromones.

Think of it like when you learn someone’s name. By doing so, you’re more likely to feel at ease around them because now they have become familiar to you subconsciously.

This is a bit like that, albeit stronger. Before now, he’s never had to deal with pheromones that actually affect him. That is why the sudden change has gone unnoticed by him at present.

To put him more at ease, Kuua gently takes his arm into his, and grips it as lightly as she can. Her strength allowed her to snap his hand like a twig if she so wanted to, so grace was highly important.

Both just couldn’t help but pay attention to how the other felt. The sensation of soft skin coming into contact with a mixture of coarse fur and rough pads was definitely going to be an adjustment for the two of them.

After five seconds of shaking, Kuua’s amber eyes began to look uncomfortable. “How long we do for?”

“We can stop now.” Both awkwardly relinquish their respective limb with eager speed. “So, I’ve never done this sniffing thing before. How does it work?”

She looked dumbfounded by the question. “You lean in. You sniff. Not very hard.”

“Well, no, I get that.” He shoots her his own look of irritation. “What I mean is, is there a specific way we’re supposed to do this?”

Her head tilt of confusion returns. “Speficic?”

He shakes his head. “...never mind. Just do your thing.”

With a nod, she continues to do as her ancestors had done for thousands of years. Even if he had grown more used to her being around, the sensation of her wet black nose—and a combination of whiskers and soft snout fur—once more had his body screaming for help internally. Especially when she lingered around his neck.

Only one thought reigned king in his mind. ‘Please don’t bite me please don’t bite me please don’t bite me…’

Kuua sniffed around for what felt like an eternity. When she was done, it was like the only places she didn’t sniff were his junk, butt, and legs.

“Is that it?” He’d closed his eyes during the ordeal. “Are you done?” He opened his eyes to find the goofiest grin on her face. It was like she was trying her hardest to suppress a sneeze mid-laugh.

What forced her to open her eyes was the sound of suppressed laughter that just couldn’t be contained. It came from Ezra, who was struggling to stand from how hard the joyous noises escaped his mouth.

All she did was look at him with confusion as his laughter slowly died down.

“Icantbreathe!” But it eventually did die down. There were several instances where it threatened to come back, but eventually, all was well. “Alright...alright...I think I’m good…” He wipes the tears from his eyes. “Phew...that was funny.”

“What was the funny?”

“Sorry. It’s just…” There was hesitation to mention this. “...your face just now. What was that?”

“What? You never read...uh...smell before?” There was a small pause of stupidity from her. “Wait. Forget. Dumb question.”

“Reading a smell?”

“Yep.” She taps her nose. “Your turn.”

A cold wave of awkwardness pulsates throughout his body at this very moment. It just dawned on him that he had to go in there, and sniff her.

“..._uh…_” Begins Kuua. “...use top of mouth for sniff.” That was the only bit of advice she could think to give. He obviously did not know what to do; she hoped that helped.

Up to the plate he went. Her neck was first on the list, seeing as that’s where she targeted him first, so he began there.

‘This feels so wrong…’ And so began his first sniff, albeit shakily and hesitantly. The use of his mouth’s roof introduced him to something new involving smells. No longer just a way to tell good from bad; now, it was like the scent was talking to him.

“Hi, I’m Kuua!” That’s the interpretation his mind gave of the smell’s message. He sniffs the same spot two more times; sure enough, same result.

It was then that his nose could pick up several different encoded scents nearby. There was something familiar up towards her head, something soothing just below the neck, and something that called for him even further south.

So, he let his nose take the lead. He was in a trance-like state as he sniffed around. It began to feel less creepy, and more of a way to understand this new creature.

His nose stopped right at her chest. This message was different; rather than informing him of something, it commanded him. “At ease, male.” He seemed to pause in this location.

“Yes, thought so.” The sensation of her strong arms pushing him back broke him from his knowledge-seeking trance.

“Huh? Where am I?” He looks around in confusion.

The sound of deep, hearty female laughter caught the attention of both species.

“<Alright, I think I’m starting to get the picture!>” The tall Amazon of a Hyena was back. “<You’re one of us!>” She embraces him with one of her powerful arms, pulling him right against her bandage g-cups.

Oddly, rather than getting flustered as he’s forced against her soft chest, his newly found instinct to learn by scent kicked in.

“Ezra! No!” But Kuua warned him too late.

Scent communication between Kuua’s species and Serena’s species differ in their execution. Unlike Kuua’s species, which secretes pheromones, Serena’s species makes use of special microbes living on her to communicate. These microbes vary in smell, and in turn, give the recipient a not-so-pleasantly-smelling message.

In other words, she fucking reeks.

The last thing he remembered, before passing out, was the sensation of his Jacobson’s organ burning to a crisp.

At least, he learned an important lesson just then. Watch what you sniff; your vomeronasal gland is highly sensitive!

Author's Note:

This is one of those pieces of my old writing that makes me go 'Yeesh...what was I thinking?' What was intended to be a fun spin on the Flehman response turned out to be so unintentionally fetish-y.

But, it is what it is.

Well, it’s been a long journey.

Twenty-two year old Joshua Holmes just spent the last year and a half of his life in a foreign world full of many oddities; both dangerous, and beautiful.

But mainly dangerous.

Now, he and his small anthropomorphic companion stood before a black spiral-like portal that would return him to his own world.

It wasn’t a happy moment for either of them; the white human man with brown hair that can mainly be described as weak, and the slender, light pink anthropomorphic rabbit with small bodily features across the board.

“Well…” Began the rabbit girl. The way she trailed off, it sounded like there was more she wanted to say.

“I guess this is goodbye.” He shared in that sentiment; wishing to tell her something, but there was no time. The portal could close at any moment.

“C-”

“Huh?” His brown eyes lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Can I get a hug? Before you go?”

Now that was something he was more than happy to do, as the soft smile on his face indicates. “Sure.”

Just the briefest of hugs. No more, no less.

At least, that was the plan. A conveniently placed pebble tripped her as she walked, slamming her against the human male with enough force to push them both into the portal.

“OH SHIII-” Those were the last words both creatures remembered before everything went dark.

There was no thud against the ground; something to indicate that he was now back in his world.

He did, however, wake up eventually. The cold soft touch of wooden flooring felt odd as his hands glide over it.

‘What the hell…?’ He thinks as his eyes flutter open. He was laying against the floor belly first, and wondered what he was touching. ‘...wood?’ That was when his eyes snapped open fully. “Wood floor!?”

The urge to get on his feet was irresistible. Sure enough, as he looked around, a familiar sight presented itself: drywall painted gray, two doors white as snow, a shelf full of books and games, a bed…

“My bed!” He couldn’t not belly flop on the softest thing he’s felt in almost two years. Soft as a cloud, and just as squishy. “Oh mother of god! How I missed you!”

He froze in place when he heard the sound of groaning.

‘Wait…’ It couldn’t be. Sure enough, it was. Laying on the floor behind him was his fuzzy companion, waking like she’d just slept for hours.

“What am I laying on…?” The sound of her little claws tapping against the wood flooring sent a wave of panic through Joshia.

Slowly, her ruby eyes flutter open. When she sits up, her ears move with her; upright, and scanning her surroundings.

“Josh…?” His quietness was understood when she took her first looks around. Her eyes also went wide, but for a completely different reason. “Where...uh...where am I?”

‘She’s here, too?’ Oh shit doesn’t even begin to cover how he was feeling internally; though his pale skin was a good hint. ‘Oh fuck, this is bad! This is really bad!’

“Josh.” She states firmly. “Where. Am I?”

A voice was heard through the wall. From the sounds of it, male. “Did you hear that?”

And another. This time female. “Yeah, it sounds like…”

He had to whisper. “Shit! Under here! Now!” Josh pulls up his covers to reveal the empty space beneath her bed. She trusts him, crawling under with ease.

Sometimes, it pays to be short.

Just in time. The door to his room swings open.

What was initial looks of skepticism and fear quickly transformed into a mixture of shock, and happiness. The two adults were much older; roughly in their forties.

His father almost couldn’t believe that he was actually there. “Joshua?”

“My baby boy!” His mother, however, wasted no time in tackle hugging him. The chokes of her tears made understanding her a bit difficult. “Where were you!? Are you hurt!? Why do you smell like a sewer!?”

He simply smiled, and returned the hug. “I missed you too.”

It was refreshing not having to fight for his life for once.

“Where were you?” The stern question from his father that he hoped wouldn’t have been asked.

“Uh…” But finding a way to describe his adventure, without sounding like a lunatic, was a challenge. “It’s...a long story.”

The constant scans from his father’s eyes lead to an inevitable observation. “Oh, I bet. Especially since you’re dressed like one of your game characters.”

Joshua had completely forgotten about his clothing: white long-sleeved shirt, tan cloth pants, leather gloves, and leather boots.

‘Wait…’ He still had his clothing? Then, what else did he have on him? If he had that on him… “Uh…” He begins, quickly standing as far from both his parents as he could. “...how about I take a shower, and tell you guys all about it?”

“Good idea!” His mother was waving the air from her face. “You smell like you haven’t bathed in years…”

“Haha, yeah…” Not inaccurate.

“Ooh, I have to call so many people, and tell them that you’re home!” And with that, his mother ran off.

“Uh...how many, exactly?”

His father took over the conversation. “We called all over when you’d gone missing. It isn’t exactly normal when an introvert just up and disappears one day.”

Josh had to admit, he did have a point. “I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“Yeah, well…” He tilts his head a bit. “...hurry and shower. I want to hear what you have to say.”

And with that, the door was shut.

There was a bit of a pause before the small rabbit popped out from under his bed.

“What is this place?” She asks, once more scanning her surroundings.

“This is my room.” He says, seriously. “In my world.”

“Your world…?” She asked nervously. “Well...how the tables have turned.”

“Yep…” In the other world, she tirelessly worked to bring him back.

With the supernatural aspects of that world, the turn of events to make it happen made sense. But, this was Earth, where there were no powers; no gods; no anything. How was he going to help her return to her world? What was going to happen if he couldn’t?

A cloud of dust spreads and flows everywhere. The surrounding landscape would slowly become more and more visible as it settled, revealing what can be best described as calamity.

Miles and miles of sharp stalagmites, far as the eye could see, each skewering at least one human corpse.

Hundreds, if not thousands, whose only defining feature was their pitch black skin; others in pieces; and those as a mixture of the two.

And others whose only remnants were unrecognizable. The haunting shade of human crimson paints the floor with a mixture of blood, and pulverized human being.

The same floor which was home to craters as large as a supermarket scattered every which way.

At the center of it all? A powerfully built man with long brown hair, one arm, and no shirt. All that covered him was the tattered remains of black dress pants.

There was nothing the few remaining humans could do. Nothing. Compared to the army he just took down, they were low-ranking fodder. Their only course of action was to stand there, and quake in their boots; hoping that they weren’t next on the chopping block.

The one lucky enough to meet his ice cold gaze swore she could feel her soul leave her body; it was like he was a wild predator staring down a rabbit.

“You.” He states firmly.

The brunette shakily raises a finger at herself. “M-me?”

“Am I looking at anyone else?”

An audible gulp escapes her throat. “What do you want?”

“That depends.” His glance shifts to the blonde man to her left, and the redheaded woman to her right; both wearing the same black uniform as the woman in question, and just as nervous. “If you cooperate, you can all walk out of here alive.”

The curiosity within her just had to ask another question. “A-and if I don’t?”

Sometimes, visual aides are the most useful ways to get a point across. “Let’s say…” Three random corpses from the floor fly towards him, and stop just short of a meter from making contact. “...this is you.” Insta-explosion; a red mist scatters in all directions, like the dust that had already settled.

All three recoil in disgust; the blonde man was on the verge of losing his lunch.

‘He didn’t even hesitate…’ The brunette could feel a sense of nausea and rage within her. Those weren’t just corpses, they were people. Sons, daughters, loved ones; yet, to him, they were nothing more than props to make a sick point.

The one-armed man looks at her curiously. “Get the message?”

She was hoping to find some level of comfort from her comrades, yet when she looks back, all she sees are the eyes of scared children; same as her.

When she looks forward, she notices a glint behind the one-armed man.

‘Sniper?’ It was a fair distance away. She kept her gaze fixed on the man, nodded, and slowly walked forward. “Alright…” Up her palms went, as a gesture of good faith. “...I’ll cooperate.”

When was he going to shoot? Was the positioning wrong? Was she in the way? There was no way to tell from where she was. Yet, if she walked to his side, the glint might enter his peripheral vision. She stops, and stands right in front of him. For now.

“What do you want with me?” She shoots him a look of disgust; a look that doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen.” A single finger is raised. “First, your secret man is gonna die.”

Her wide eyes once more looked over to the glint that was no longer there. Not even two seconds later, something blitzed into the area at mach-1; stopping just right of the one-armed man.

The settled dust revealed a black anthropomorphic feline wearing nothing more than bandages on her chest, and a brown furred skirt. “<A souvenir.>” She says in her native tongue. Her black furred arm tosses him the scope of the dead sniper.

“<Thanks, Kuua.>” Responded the man, catching the scope with a tough grip.

All three just couldn’t help but analyze the new creature with a mixture of fear, and curiosity.

“Second…” Continues the man. “...you’re gonna make a call, and you’re gonna put it on speaker.”

As per his instructions, she slowly—and carefully—reaches for her communicator. The only thing worse than one murderer staring her down? Two of them. Any wrong move, any twitch, and they definitely wouldn’t hesitate to put her in the ground. “Who am I calling?”

He nods calmly. “You know.”

“The Secretary of Exterior Affairs?”

He nods once more.

The echoing ring of her communicator fills the hauntingly calm air for what feels like an eternity. Eventually, however, the ringing is cut short, and they hear an older male voice. “Hello?”

Just as the brunette was about to speak, the one-armed man holds up a finger to his lips.

The man on the other side asks once more. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mr. Goodwin.” Whoever Goodwin was, the one-armed man did not seem too happy to be talking to him.

There was an initial silence from Goodwin. Eventually, he responds, albeit nervously. “...Ezra?”

“It’s been a while.” On his end, he molds the earth around them; five seats, and a table in the middle. He motions for the other two scared humans to join him.

“Yes! It’s been…”

“...two years.” Now, all of them had taken their seats. “Thank you for the welcoming party. It got quite violent, however.”

Kuua listened attentively to the conversation taking place, but the other three had their attention split. The conversation, or the alien. Who to focus on more?

“Are you alone?” Asked Mr. Goodwin.

“No.” His eyes scan the surrounding beings quickly. “Your dead hit squad is keeping me company. But, enough with the stalling.” His serious tone grew even more so. “You know why I’m calling.”

Once more, hesitation from Goodwin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Your son goes to school at Manchester High.” Began Ezra. “He goes in at seven in the morning, and comes out at seven in the afternoon. After school, he participates in an eSports team, of which there are...ten people total?”

“What are you…?”

“And those ten have their own loved ones, don’t they? Fathers? Mothers? Siblings?”

“Ezra!”

“You also have a young daughter, right? She should be attending her ballet class right about...now.”

“You listen to me…!”

“I don’t have to tell you that, though, do I? You’re the one that takes her on Wednesdays.” Ezra could hear shuffling in the background. “Still don’t know what I’m talking about?”

More shuffling, and even some howling wind through the speaker. Ezra knew he’d walked outside. “How many of your guys are out here?”

“I’m asking the questions here, Mr. Goodwin. Comply, and you won’t have to find out.” Not a word was heard from the speakers. “I suggest you go somewhere private, breathe, and calm down. The last thing you want is for my guys to think you’re onto them.”

“Why? Uh-you know what? Stupid question.” More noises were heard. A loud clang, potentially that of a door closing, the voice of an adult woman, giggling children, and eventually, nothing. “Alright, it’s just me.”

“Are you calm?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Ezra shifts a bit for comfort, resting his only elbow on the respective leg. “Now, let me make it clear. I don’t want a question to answer my questions, I don’t want critique, all I want are simple answers. Otherwise, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” Affirmed Goodwin, albeit nervously.

“Good.” He sighs. “First question. Where is my mother?”

“She…” It was obvious to Goodwin what his intentions were. Airing this information felt wrong, but what choice did he have? “...is being guarded by the Secret Service.”

“Where?”

“Why?” Audible panic escaped Goodwin’s lips. “I’m sorry! I don’t know where they took her! Don’t kill my daughter!”

Ezra just couldn’t help but chuckle; an expression that seemed to catch even Kuua by surprise. “You act like I’m a monster, Mr. Goodwin. Relax, you gave me an answer, so I’ll overlook your instinctual outburst.”

And just as quickly as he smiled, it vanished. Almost immediately; the three hitmen retracted a bit in concern. Specifically the blonde man, who looked at the mass graveyard around them. ‘Yeah. Who’d ever peg you for a monster?’

“But…” Continued Ezra. “...you must have some idea of where she went. After all, she is your eleventh subject.”

The three hitmen looked at each other in confusion, whispering. “Eleventh subject…?”

Once more, Goodwin paused momentarily. “So, you know?”

“That doesn’t sound like an answer to my inquiry, Mr. Goodwin.”

More panic on his end. “S-sorry!” He clears his throat. “I don’t know where they took her! They’re keeping me in the dark! I swear!”

“Hey hey hey hey hey…” Utters Ezra calmly. “I told you to calm down. You’re going to arise suspicion if you continue to shout like that.”

Several breaths, many heavy, escape the little communicator. “Okay. Okay. I’m calm.”

“Good. Now, who is this ‘they’ that’s keeping you in the dark? The Secret Service?”

“Yes! They’ve always had tight lips. I don’t know where she is, her family members don’t know where she is; hell, even the President doesn’t know where she is.”

“Sounds like an awful lot of trouble to go through for one ordinary woman. Why?” Ezra’s eyes grew wide, and focused on the mercenaries, as he uttered his next question. “What’s so special about her, Mr. Goodwin?”

An annoyed sigh escaped his lips. “Like you don’t already know.”

“On Wednesdays, your wife attends First Cross Baptist-”

“She was our most successful experiment!” Shouted a panicked Goodwin. “Without us, you wouldn’t even exist! You should be thanking me, Ezra!”

“Is that really how you see things, Mr. Goodwin?” Ezra shakes his head, but does not look surprised. “I would’ve expected more compassion after you...well, even if I said it, you’d still find a way to gaslight yourself into thinking you’re a hero. Just like the rest of your criminal friends on Wall Street.”

“Well, then, how do you see things? If my interpretation is so wrong?”

“You’ll see. In time. For now, however, I think I’m satisfied.”

“Is it over? Can I talk freely?”

“I’ll allow it.” Ezra leans back on his rocky chair.

“Last time I saw you, you were a chubby young man that was beginning to break free of his depression. Now…” There was hesitation in what he wanted to say next. “What happened to you on that planet?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know my family’s schedules; You have the ability to wipe an army off the face of the Earth; with Aleena, and your mother, you want to-to- and now, you won’t hesitate to spy on the secret service? This is not you, Ezra.”

“Yeah?” Another short-lived smile escaped Ezra’s lips. “Then why am I doing it?”

“Ezra-”

“Enough. Any more time spent talking to you could be better spent looking for my mother.” He stands. “Go and spend time with your family. What’s left of them, anyway.”

“What do you mean…” Loud and rapid footsteps get quieter and quieter. Eventually, they stop, and are replaced with a blood curdling scream. “EZRA! YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Screaming that slowly got louder. They can hear the rattling sounds of the device being picked up. “MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD! THEY’RE ALL DEAD!”

“I warned you when we started.” His index finger hovers over the button to hang up. “I told you there would be consequences.”

“EZRA-” Mr. Goodwin’s screams were cut short by the call’s termination.

On Goodwin’s end, corpses littered the floor of what used to be a lively dance studio. Every single body, even the children in pink tutus, had the exact same slash of death on their necks.

There were no signs of a struggle on them, nor on the building. Whoever did was a professional.

Whoever did this was walking right past him at this very moment. Not like he’d know it. All of these male anthropomorphic felines were invisible, and with footsteps as quiet as a mouse.

One by one, all of them walked out through the open front door, and no human in the vicinity was the wiser.

Night time.

This was the first night that the human and rabbit pair were going to spend on Earth. They laid peacefully, her pink fuzzy head on his bare peach chest.

Something within her forced her to return to consciousness. She groans, and slowly, her ruby eyes flutter open.

Her hands were curious; they felt the soft contrast of his bed’s blue sheets against her fur and hand pads. ‘What the fuck?’ She sits up and looks at her surroundings. Josh’s room, but dark. ‘Oh. Right.’

They were in his world now; something she’d forgotten about in her sleep. It’s quiet, and cool; much cooler than the nights on her primitive planet. That was thanks to the air vents above which hummed cool refreshing air into the room.

Even if they were perfectly safe, for once, her ears couldn’t help but scan her surroundings constantly; just in case. Both pause, snapping in the direction of a weird noise taking place downstairs.

It was almost instinctual for her to slide out of the cozy mattress, the gentle thump of her pink digitigrade legs disturbing her after they’d made contact with the caramel colored wood below her. More thumps, much more quiet this time, mark her way towards the white door that stands between her, and the hallway. She just had to check out the source of the noise. For all she knew, it was an assassin waiting to take out the house.

Only, she’d never left his room since arriving. She paused, just short of the door, her heart racing like crazy. ‘You can do this, Ig __u_ qoin!’_ Iguquoin sighs, smacks her cheeks, and recoils after gripping at the silver door handle. ‘Shit! That’s cold!’ She grips it once more, expecting the unusual temperature this time, and slowly twists the hunk of metal.

Her ears flatten, and she cringes, as the door creaks loudly. She swore it wasn’t that loud before. Regardless, she steps out, and closes it behind her.

‘I did it! I’m out...’ Iguqoin sighs once more. To her left, the hall had one door on her side, and two others opposing. To her right, a set of stairs going down.

One by one, her feet descend down the flight. One of her ears remains fixed on the source of the noise, and the other continues to scan; like a lighthouse.

She was half-way down the steps when the immediate downstairs came into view.

The floor; still wood.

The walls, however, were a welcoming shade of olive green; at least the parts of the wall that were illuminated by the light that came from the kitchen to her left. To her right, a small living room equipped with the standards: TV with a gray L-shaped couch facing it, a rectangular glass coffee table in between, wooden ceiling fan, and pictures scattered throughout the walls.

From what she could see, the living room was empty.

But, there was definitely someone in the kitchen. Iguqoin could hear an unfamiliar noise, which was the sound of something tapping against plastic.

She could recognize the song that the woman was humming, however. Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. She used to hear Josh hum it all the time, but never knew where it came from.

It seemed like a bad idea in her head, but she fought her inner hesitation, and took a peak inside. It was his mother, dressed in a pink night gown, and she was munching on a banana.

Iguqoin could smell it from where she was; it called to her, urging her to get closer.

But she couldn’t. She didn’t know what would happen, but Josh was adamant against her meeting another human.

So, she pulls back, and turns towards the stairs once more. Only, she could hear more footsteps coming down. It was his father once more, dressed only in gray boxers, and he was holding a baseball bat with one hand. “Honey? That you?” He asks.

There was a moment in which he paused, and looked around. Something was wrong; he just couldn’t tell what it was.

“Yeah. I’m just getting a little snack.” Responded the mother. “Did I wake you?”

“Kinda.” He turns back towards the top of the stairs. “I heard weird noises just now. Thought it was a burglar.”

“Nah. It was probably Joshua’s friend.” She chuckles. “What did he call her, Quinn?”

“Yeah, something like that.” He steps down fully, and enters the kitchen. If he was up, might as well get something for himself. “Speaking of, do you believe any of what he said to us?”

“How can I?” She shakes her head. “Elemental gods, animal people, magical powers, I mean…”

“Yeah.” He nods in disbelief. “I mean, no offense to our son, but he couldn’t even cut the yard without fainting from exhaustion. Now, I’m supposed to believe that he survived some kind of magical no man’s land?”

“But…” Her mother looks perplexed. “...if not there, then where’s he been all this time?”

“Beats me.” He shrugs. “I know he hasn’t told us everything. I mean, how can he? Compressing almost two years worth of his life into roughly half an hour.” The father crosses his arms, and looks towards the floor. “But...I feel like he’s holding out on us about something.”

“I thought I was the only one.” She discards the peel of her snack down the plastic-lined rustle of the kitchen garbage can. “Do you think it’s drugs?”

“I doubt it.” He shakes his head. “I know druggies when I see em, and he didn’t give off any bad vibes when we talked to him.”

“Call it woman’s intuition, but I think it has to do with a girl.”

A response that elicits a chuckle from the father. “The day he brings a girl home is the day I give him the house.”

“I’m serious.” She crosses her arms. “When we last saw him, he was a nervous wreck. Even girls on TV left him flustered.”

“So he’s calmed down a bit. What’s that gotta do with a girl?”

“I don’t think you understand. When Simone Biles was on TV, did he even give her a second glance?”

Initially, the father holds a look of skepticism. He knew his own son. Any time a woman entered his line of sight, he entered a sort of flustered daze as he stared them down.

However, now as he recalls, Josh only seemed to acknowledge Biles’ existence for a mere moment. Like she was static noise. No fluster, no stare, just him continuing to tell his story with his eyes on his parents.

“Son of a bitch…” A smile slowly crept up the father’s lips. “...my son had a girlfriend!” He just couldn’t chuckle with a sense of pride. “That’s my boy!”

“But if what he told us is true, then that means she’s a-”

“I don’t care if she’s flat chested and speaks in barks! If I ever meet her, I’m shaking her hand and buying her a beer for setting my son straight.”

“You really think we’ll get the chance to meet this hypothetical beast woman?”

“I mean, if he can get beamed by strong moonlight and end up over there, then I don’t know why she can’t...I don’t know...trip on a rock, and fall down some mystical portal of Werfojiken or something.”

The name amuses the chuckling wife. “Werfojiken?”

“What? The names he was giving out were ridiculous. Oijoh, Huoijh, Pojib…”

“Tfuygvij, Powaisk, Prejag…”

“It sounds like someone just randomly mashed on a keyboard for Christ’s sake!”

“Well, if it really was all a lie, then it’s a very elaborate one.” She yawns, reminded of how early it was, shutting off the lights to the kitchen.

Now, both adults begin making their way up the stairs.

“Maybe it wasn’t a lie. At least not to him.” With his hands, he symbolizes what looks like someone lighting a crack pipe.

“I thought you said he wasn’t on drugs?”

“Not at the moment, but who’s to say he didn’t light up a doobie while he was out?”

“A doobie?” She asks, amused. “Okay, dad.”

“What, do people not say doobie anymore?”

“Not since the late 90s.”

“Are you telling me that it’s not the 90s anymore?”

“Okay, grandpa. Let’s get you your medicine.”

“Grandpa?” He asks, closing the door to their room.

Iguqoin could no longer hear thumping, so she arose from behind the couch, and began to carefully make her way up the stairs. Not a sound; her periscope-like ears were to make sure of that as they continued to scan for noise.

‘They seem surprisingly okay with the idea of a non-human dating their son.’ The pink of her inner ears flustered a bit at the thought. ‘So why does he not want me to meet them? Is he ashamed of me?’

The closer she got to his room, the longer it felt to get there. ‘I swear it took me no time at all to get to the stairs from his room. Do these halls have a spell of elongation, or something?’

Almost there. Even reaching for his room’s door handle was done with grace, and tranquility.

“Hang on.” The creek of the master bedroom startled Iguqoin into rushing the process. Unfortunately, this meant that the door to Josh’s room slammed shut. Something that obviously caught the attention of the mother.

‘Crap oh crap oh crap oh crap OH CRAP!’ The small rabbit sits with her back against the door, and her hands to her head.

To make matters worse, she can hear the sounds of feet thumping on wood once more; and they were growing louder.

Knock knock knock.

“Josh? Is everything okay?”

The index claw in Iguqoin’s right hand glows a bright yellow; and with it, she sketches a glowing ‘69’ in mid-air. Quickly, she leans forward, her muzzle hovering just next to it.

“Uh...yeah!” She sounded just like Josh. “I just thought I heard something!”

“You slammed the door. Are you hurt?”

“No, I just tripped on something.”

“Okay, then. Night, honey!”

“Good night, mother!” Immediately, Iguqoin cringes and smacks her forehead. ‘He doesn’t call her mother! You idiot!’

Fortunately for her, that was enough to return his mother to her room. With a slam, she sighs in relief, and clutches her chest. ‘Oh shit! That was way too close!’ She taps at her heavily beating chest some more, but feels something is missing.

Upon further inspection, it appears that she’d forgotten to put on any clothes before leaving his room; a realization that forced her inner ears to take on a crimson color. ‘Alright, I’m gonna go back to sleep…’

She was not gentle as she hops back onto the softness of Josh’s bed, and slithers back onto his bare chest from under the sheets. There was an initial struggle to return to dreamland; a struggle that was resolved once he unconsciously wraps one of his arms around her nude fuzzy body.

Now, there she laid once more, an initial sigh from her nose being the last thing she remembers before she knocks out.

Man, was she glad he was such a heavy sleeper.

Hi, my name is Gabe. I’m 16 years old, and-

“Gabey!”

The white wolf head poking through my door is my furry step-sister Jenny.

I hate her so much.

“How ya doin?”

You see, the problem is that my pants are currently down, and that door was locked.

“Shit! Jenny! What the fuck!?” I rush to put my pants on before she saw anything; if she hadn’t already. Fortunately, I was seated towards my computer, which was on the opposite side of my room from the door.

“Hey, are you okay? Your face is red…” Her tone reeked of sexual arousal. Something she only revealed when our parents were out. “...let me check your temperature…”

Aaaand of course she’s only in her underwear. “God- Jen- GET OUT!” In my fury, I threw the closest thing I could find: a lotion bottle that I was gonna use for...you know.

“Hey!” Unfortunately, she dodged it. “Okay! Sheesh…” She closed the door behind her. “I’ll come back later, grumpy pants.”

I would’ve locked it again, but what would be the point? Not even my room was a sanctuary from the hungry she-demon that won’t leave me alone.

You’re probably thinking ‘What’s the big deal? A slim thick furry girl is throwing herself at you, moron!’

But you don’t know what it’s like to have your entire life dictated by the whims of a manipulative bitch.

I don’t need women to throw themselves at me. I’m perfectly capable of getting my own girl.

Or at least I would be if my step-sister weren’t a possessive sociopath.

It was a nice October day at the local park. It was just beginning to cool off from the monstrous heat of summer, a network of clouds passed overhead that brought even greater reprieve in the form of occasional shade, and I was enjoying a nice read on one of the park’s many benches.

The day was great, and it only seemed like it could get better from there.

I was too enthralled by my book to notice that two cute girls were heading my way. One of them, a white human girl with long black hair, nervously fidgets with her hands as she and the cute gray rabbit girl next to her look at me with anticipation.

“Hey Gabe...” Her voice, like the blue long-sleeved shirt she wore under a brown vest, was light. “This new movie just came out, and I was wondering if you wanna see it with me?”

I could see the rabbit friend behind her nodding at me quickly with a face that was going to burst with anxious happiness.

In the moment, I was stunned with a mixture of surprise and joy. A girl was actually asking me out!

Not touching my butt “accidentally” on an elevator.

Not licking my face while I was asleep.

Not bending over to “pick up a pencil” without her pants on.

It was a normal girl that was respecting my autonomy.

And of course, I wasn’t gonna let that go to waste! “Sure-”

“There you are, baby!” And next to me sat Jenny; right on queue.

“Wha-”

I didn’t even have time to react before she licked my cheek with a face full of love. “Who are these girls? They friends of yours?”

I felt my heart drop in that moment. If I didn’t correct it soon-

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” The girl that asked me out covered her mouth in embarrassment. “I didn’t know you had a girlfriend!”

“Wait! Hold on a second!”

But it was too late. The two girls wasted no time in getting the fuck out of there.

“Don’t worry.” Reassured her rabbit friend. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

Zaria’s last words, at least the ones I could make out, felt like a punch in the gut. “I didn’t even know Gabe was into anthros.”

“Wait!” I tried to stand, but Jenny’s furry ass was too strong. “She’s my sister!”

“Step-sister, to be exact.”

I’ll never forget that smug grin for as long as I live. Paired with the arm she wrapped around me, it was clear what her message was.

‘You are mine.’

But like hell I was.

For a while now, I’ve refused her advances; yet, she seems no closer to taking the hint.

One of the best examples of what I’m talking about was just yesterday. I was in my room, tackling some homework, when the succubus herself seductively shrieked for me.

“Hey Gabe~!”

Ugh… “What!” I shouted, hoping I wouldn’t have to stand.

“I need your help! Can you come here?”

Sometimes, I hated being this nice. I was pretty sure this was going to be another attempt at getting in my pants, and...I was right.

I walk into the living room to find her bent over on the couch with her knees on the cushions. And wouldn’t you know it? The TV remote sat right on top of her ass; under the fluffy white tail that raised itself to give me easier access.

“Have you seen the remote? I can’t find it!”

To me, seeing her pussy outline through her panties was akin to seeing a plumber’s ass crack. “God fucking dammit Jenny!” So of course, my hands instinctually spared me from having to view it for more than a few milliseconds. “Where’s mom and dad?”

“They’re gonna be gone all weekend, Gabe…” Her possessive tone grew lower when she uttered that sentence. “Now help me find the remote…”

She wiggled her ass, but all I did was sigh and go back to my room. “Get it yourself. You know where it is.”

Never did I think I would miss the version of her that left it at that.

The version of her that would cease to exist when I locked my door.

But now, even my room is no sanctuary.

So if I’m not even safe in my room, then what do I do?

Can I even stop her?

Mom and dad just laugh when I tell them about it. They say she’s ‘just joking.’

But the only jokes here seem to be my boundaries and autonomy.

Day in and day out, I have no say in anything I do.

I can’t date unless it’s with Jenny.

I can’t cum unless it’s with Jenny.

I can’t even sleep unless it’s with Jenny.

Every time I fall asleep on the couch, I wake up lying on top of her; arms wrapped around me.

I used to shrug it off; but now, I grow more and more frustrated every time it happens.

I grow more and more frustrated every time she feels the need to test my boundaries.

Except for today.

For some reason, I’m not mad at her for picking my lock while I was trying to jerk off. I feel...nothing?

Well, it couldn’t be nothing. I just sighed, and my breathing is shaky.

Yet, no tears.

I surprise myself. Usually, I sit down until my anger goes away, but maybe I’m just getting better at handling Jenny’s craziness.

Well, no matter. I need a snack.

‘I’ve got your snack right here.’ Yeah, that’s definitely what she’d say. And she’d probably smack her ass too.

Fuck, now I can’t even get her out my head. I hope this isn’t stockholm syndrome.

Pfft, nah. I’d sooner stick my dick in a blender than Jenny.

Speaking of the blender, all I have to do is reach into the cabinet above it, and grab the…

...missing bag of baked Hot Cheetos.

“Oops!” Hearing that little noise triggered something in me. “Sorry, Gabe! I got a little snacky!”

What was calm was now a violent ocean of rage that seemed to come out all at once. “...and you just had to eat my chips?” I said quietly. But I was gonna get louder, and closer to her. “Not the box of vanilla wafers that was RIGHT FUCKING NEXT TO IT?”

“Calm down, Gabe. We can always just get more.”

“Don’t you tell me to fucking calm down, Jenny!” I was right up in her stupid tall face at this point. Her ears flattened on her stupid fuzzy head, but I didn’t care. “Those were mine, and you didn’t even fucking ask!”

“I was gonna, but-”

“But what? You didn’t want to go through the trouble of picking my lock again?”

She was quiet. Maybe this time, she could see how I actually felt for once.

“Well, Jenny?”

“I didn’t know that was such an issue for you...”

“Of course it is! Why wouldn’t it be?” I tapped at my head so hard, it hurt; but that pain was nothing compared to the superfluous rage that shook my body. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

This was the first time I’d ever seen tears form in her eyes. But in this moment, I didn’t care. She needs to know that her behavior is not good.

And if crying in her room helps her see that, all the better.

It could be argued that it shouldn’t feel this good to cause your step-sister pain, but...fuck. This was a long time coming.

For the first time in years, I feel like I have some agency in my life.

It now became clear what the choices were: her happiness, or mine.

And I choose mine.

It was a day like any other: hotter than a furnace; not a cloud in that bright, sunny sky; and the lack of civilization for miles.

This planet was unlike Earth. There was no architecture. No roads.

Nothing other than an endless sea of tall, yellow grass that flowed like an ocean as the gentle breeze swept through the land.

And at the center of it all? An old white space pod even more rusted than the Titanic.

It could only fit one person. So, naturally, the only human of the three—including a nude anthropomorphic hyena and inverse-colored cheetah—was the first to look inside.

A white man; tanned heavily, and roughly in his mid-20s. All he had to his name was a brown furred cloak that covered him from head to toe.

At least until a breeze briefly revealed his bare front.

The cheetah, watching with caution behind him, was an oddity; even on this planet. What was amber was black, and what was black was amber. At the very least, the fur that ran from the jaw of her upper lips to her lower was the same as all the other cheetahs that no longer exist.

“Careful, Ezra…” The smooth-voiced female was tense; like the space pod could consume her friend at any moment.

Whatever language she spoke, it was not English.

“I already told you, I’ll be fine,” he says, speaking the same language; albeit with a heavy accent. He scans the mono-colored internals of the space pod. Not much except for a seat that looked uncomfortable as any other, and a screen to his left.

He noticed a tiny hole in the screen; presumably from some species poking around in here.

And below that? A button.

It did nothing when pushed.

Without much else to go off of, he crawls out of the pod and stands with a grunt.

The other companion, a female anthropomorphic hyena as tall as he, proudly stood with her hands to her hips; not a care in the world as her melons hung freely; much like the shorter—and smaller chested—cheetah next to her.

Another thing they had in common? She was also a bit of an odd ball. Rather than the black spots her kind was known for, hers took on more of a red color; much like the “mohawk” that ran from the base of her tail to the top of head. The rest of her fur was a sea of redwood.

“Well? Anything?” says the grainy-voiced female.

He shook his head. “It’s dead.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that there’s no electricity in that thing to make it work.”

“So…” She hovers her hands close to each other. “...let’s revive it.” Light blue bands of electricity snap to and from each hand. “It’s not like the three of us can’t manipulate lightning.”

“It’s not that simple.” Once more, he shakes his head. “Human inventions are...well, complicated. I wouldn’t even know where to shock. And if we were to shock the wrong place, then…” His hands explode outwards from his center. “Boom.”

“Well, it’s the only lead we have, so we have to try something.” She walks over to the space pod; but the cheetah was having none of it as she blocked the bigger female’s way.

“Are you stupid? You could kill yourself.”

“Yeah? Well right now, we don’t exactly have much of a choice, now do we?” She danced around the cheetah, and eyes the space pod that now stood before her. “Just stand by the entrance, and let me know if anything happens.”

Ezra shrugs. “Your funeral.”

That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t nervous. No, it felt like her heart was trying to tunnel for freedom.

‘Quit being a male, Serena…’ Her heart played to the tune of Peggy Lee’s cover of Fever with how quickly it was beating.

And the images of an explosion dancing around in her mind certainly didn’t help.

Yet, she continued. “Alright, here I go.”

The stream of light electricity crackles as it danced between her hands. Then, as soon as the electricity found a new home in the machine, all three could hear the hum of an engine starting up.

The two furry aliens, of course, looked about ready to hop out of their fur.

“That’s good, right!?” Asked the cheetah.

“Well, it’s not a bad sound,” Ezra said.

Not a satisfactory answer to Serena; the one standing at ground zero herself. “God damn it answer the question!”

“Calm down. I see light, so it’s working.”

Crackling overtakes the humming, and soon what was a space pod was now a twirling blue vortex.

Serena had no time to react before she was swallowed whole; along with her screams of petrifaction.

And the cheetah wasn’t too far behind. With nothing to grab hold of, the pull of the vortex was too much for her to resist. “Serena!”

“Kuua! Serena!” Ezra released his hold of the surprisingly sturdy plant that spared him from the same fate.

But, it was too late.

By the time his feet slapped against the metallic pod, the vortex was gone.

In his panic, the all too familiar sound of English escaped his lips once more. “Oh no…” Electricity streamed from his own two hands. “...no no No No NO….!” Nothing. “Come on! You piece of shit! Give them back!”

A sentiment not exactly mirrored on the other side of that vortex.

It was hard to tell where this was. The room was a warm dim with the hum of a light bulb that struggled to stay on. Spacious, too; more than wide enough to fit the large, wooden computer nearly as tall as the white man that stood near it.

There was no screen; no keyboard; not even an easily identifiable power button. No, this machine stood proud as it sported a plethora of knobs and switches that would give anyone short of a college major a hernia.

And more complicated so, a large stretch of vacuum tubes that stood right next to it; about as long as a blackboard; and just as wide.

But this relic of the past was nothing compared to the ring-like contraption that hums with the glow of a blue vortex.

To accompany it, a grainy voice that spoke in German. “(Come on, Pleiades…) Komm schon, Plejaden…” His red tie was open; much like the black suit vest that hung from his torso.. “(Show me your secrets…) Zeig mir deine Geheimnisse…”

To call him exhausted was an understatement. He looked a mess; like he’d only gotten three hours of sleep in the past week. You could see it in the dark wrinkles that stained his lower eyelids.

He watches in anticipation as something, anything, happened. But all he got back was the hum of nothingness.

The loud grunt that came next was unavoidable. “(Shit!) Sheiße!” The beakers on the table next to him turned victim to the swing of his arm. “(Five years of my life! All Gone! Just like the Fuhrer!) Fünf Jahre meines Lebens! Alles weg! Genau wie der Führer!” And just like a forest fire, the waterworks must come eventually. His tears, much like his hands and knees, met the floor. “(Just like the Reich…) Genau wie das Reich…”

There he knelt; his black suit pants bearing the brunt of broken beaker glass, but he didn’t care. All he could do was just kneel there, and listen as the vortex hummed with the sound of failure; as it always did.

“Oof!”

He just about jumped out of his skin as the female grunts accompanied vibrations on the floor.

“Ugh…” Kuua found it hard to move with Serena’s mass on top of her. “<...get off me...>”

“<...are we dead…?>” asked Serena.

Their questions were answered when they heard the Germanic screaming in front of them.

“ (Demons!) Dämonen!” Out came a Nagant M1985, but the silver revolver was kicked out of his hand by a flash of lightning that zipped behind him.

And soon after, a large red fist of fur to the face rendered him inoperable.

“<Thank fuck you’re so fast, Kuua.>” Serena relaxed her fist, eyeing the revolver.

“<Don’t celebrate just yet.>”

The sound of boots rushing on hardwood quickly approach from a different room.

Then, muffled English. “Dr. Freimann!” The exit is revealed as the wooden door splinters against the black oxfords of a man in a classic black suit: loose limbs, as opposed to the thin ones of today; bigger lapels; and a black tie over a white collared shirt.

Oh, and a drum mag Thompson that was aimed at Serena.

She didn’t know much about guns, but she knew that having one was better than having one. “Stop!” She commands in English, albeit with an accent that was almost Nigerian.

The German’s revolver felt odd in her fingers. But, it served its purpose.

Aiming it at the gunman was enough to make him stop. And now that he had the time to analyze, he was dumbfounded.

But then, he began to laugh.

“I don’t know what the hell you are, and I don’t know how the hell you can speak English, but I can tell that you don’t know how to use that thing.” His Thompson clicks as he lifts it towards her head. “I wonder how much you two will sell for once I-”

Before he could react, Kuua zipped past him and through the dooway. She stood in the middle of a hallway as the man collapsed; and with him, the glass she’d smashed in his face.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?”

More men; two at each end of the hall.

“Don’t just stand there! Fire!”

She had no choice but to zip into the room before the impending gunfire turned her into Swiss cheese.

“<Dammit!>” Yelled Serena. “<Does every human carry these stupid things!?>”

“<Probably.>” Kuua held the Tommy gun close to her person. “<And if we wanna live, then so should we.>”

“<How many were out there?>”

“<Four total, but there’s probably more.>” She groaned. “<Can you think of a way to distract these males like you did the other one?>”

Serena hummed. “<I do but...ugh...>”

“<What is it?>”

Outside of the hall, more men in black classic suits approach the room with caution. Their Thompsons are ready to tear apart the next thing that twitches.

“Well damn,” whispered one of the men. “I’d always joked about it, but I didn’t think the Kraut would actually make himself a girlfriend.”

“And a fucking animal at that. What a sicko,” whispered another.

“Will you two shut up and focus?”

Their fingers hug the triggers of their thompsons as they approach the room.

Not one inch of the room is left un-scanned as their eyes continuously move left and right. The first thing they see? The portal machine that no longer housed anything; not even a hum. And next to it? None other than the German himself, and he was out cold; much like the henchman near their feet.

They searched for the first thing—anything—that stood. But no such thing existed. No, the only signs of life were the two anthropomorphic girls on the floor. Serena, legs spread apart, served as a place for Kuua to lay on. As the smaller anthro licks the maw of her taller friend, the little amber nipples on her tiny chest rub against the big red areolas that sway on Serena’s giant tits.

“Holy…” says a henchman.

“...shit…”

Their fingers slid away from their triggers.

It was like Kuua wanted them to look. Her tail was sky high, and giving them an optimal look of the view below: thigh to thigh; red lips to white.

But they weren’t done. The giggling anthros greeted the humans with smiling faces of drunk lust that told them ‘come join us.’

No need to tell them twice. “On second thought, that Kraut’s a genius...”

“And I can overlook the animal bits…”

One, however, remained skeptical. “Hold on, fellas. Don’t you find it odd that-”

Skepticism that didn’t come quite fast enough.

While they’d talked, Kuua and Serena uncovered their newly acquired guns, and opened fire.

Serena’d just about emptied hers—failing to land a single shot—when the final goon was finally sent to the afterlife by Kuua’s Tommy Gun. Kuua, however, meowed in panic. She found it difficult to stop as the barrel went higher and higher.

But eventually, it stopped with a click; and just short of Serena’s black nose. “<Get the fuck off me!>”

No need to tell Kuua twice. She quickly jumped to her digitigrade feet, and subsequently spit out as much of Serena as she could. “<Do you ever groom yourself?>”

“<Princesses don’t groom themselves.>” The click of her empty revolver earns it a one-way ticket to the wall it was thrown against. “<Besides, we have bigger things to worry about than my fur in your mouth.>”

More footsteps; from the sounds of it, at least ten men; all in the same fashion of black suits.

All of whom were ignorant of just what stood in this now empty room.

“Whoever did this, he couldn’t have gotten far.” The tallest of the bunch swept his arm towards the hall. “Sweep the building. Menendez, help me escort the boss to safety.”

“Yes, sir.”

Before long, the building was a radio; and its song was a melody of oxfords sporadically tapping around the basement floors of an unassuming brick complex.

The very one which no longer housed the two fuzzy targets they searched extensively for.

All that stood in the way of their freedom was a single door. It wasn’t locked, but…

“<No, we’re not kicking it open!>” Whispered Kuua.

“<Why not? The other guy did it!>”

“<Because then they’ll know we’re here!>”

“<Okay, smart girl! Then how do we get through?>”

Kuua observed the door carefully. It was made of a brown-stained wood, carved with the most unusual shapes she’d ever seen, and sporting a metallic ball to the right.

She pulled and pushed, but the door went nowhere.

Then, she tried to slide it in every direction she could. Nothing. Not upwards, downwards, or anywhere.

Their solution came when a random goon walked up to a nearby door. Turns out, all they needed to do was twist it.

“<ohhh...>” They whispered in unison.

Sure enough, one twist, and the rectangular piece of wood opened.

They expected freedom; the sight of the yellow grass they called home. Hell, even a tree.

But what they found was an endless sea of neon lights, bricked buildings that blocked the horizon, cement sidewalks that felt rough against the pads of their digitigrade feet, colorful automobiles that hum on the roads that guide them, bright signs that advertised everything from movies to porno...

But in the mess of it all, one thing stood out: humans. Hundreds, if not thousands just minding their own business. Walking; laughing; consuming.

“<Holy shit...>” Whispered an invisible Serena.

“<That’s a lot of Ezras...>” A sentiment shared by Kuua, also invisible.

Even the night sky was unrecognizable to Serena. “<Why do the heavens look like that?>”

“<I don’t know.>”

They were hoping for the familiarity of the heavens above, but even that was tainted by the sight of light gray clouds reflecting the light pollution down below.

And as for stars? Forget about it.

Kuua’s invisible tail sways nervously. “<We’re in Ezra’s homeland now.>”

“<Gee, Kuua, you think?>”

“<Oh shut up.>” Her amber eyes feel overwhelmed as they scan her surroundings. She wants to focus, but those neon signs just keep calling to her.

Buy me.

Come here.

Look at me.

They gave Serena the urge to rub her blue eyes. “<Let’s get the fuck out of here. The light of this place is starting to irritate me.>”

“<And go where?>”

“<Anywhere is better than the big rectangular rock behind us. You know, the one full of Ezras and their death tools?>”

Kuua’s head nod-tilted. “<Yes, I see your point. Then, let’s go->”

The bright lights of the city proved much too distracting as the doors behind them smacked them into the sidewalk; and with them, their invisibility fell.

The goon that opened the door was, of course, in disbelief. “What the dickens!?”

As was the roar of a surprised crowd that quickly encircled the girls.

“Oh my goodness!”

“What are they?”

“They’re naked!”

“Now hear me out-”

“<Well, so much for the element of surprise,>” Kuua said.

“<Run for it!>” Serena’s entire body lit up like an electrified neon sign as she bulldozed through the crowd at just near sixty miles an hour.

Kuua said nothing; following right behind her friend as she forcibly moved through the sidewalk packed with humans.

Serena didn’t care who she hit. If they got in her way, they met the fury of her crossed arms. “<Wait a minute. Why am I doing this?>”

The road next to her, though full of cars, was more inviting to her full speed.

And the full speed of loud police automobiles that tickled her tail in no time at all.

“<Keep running!>” Though the cars were fast, Kuua was faster. Much faster; to the point where the police yelled in confusion as their car spun out to the tune of a slashed tire.

But it was like a hydra. Kill one, and more spawn.

She found herself having to dance to the tune of revolvers eager to bring her down.

Serena groaned, and echoed her frustrations. “<Fuck off!>” She hopped over one of the yellow cars in front of her; and with her powerful legs, she kicks it into what became a five car pile-up. “<Yeah! How do you like that, you sons of bitches!>”

“Reloading!” Said one of the cops in the only vehicle that remained.

“<Re-meh-meh I’m An AnNoYiNg LiTtLe PeNiS!>” The sound of a clicking revolver was anything but music to her furred ears. <Kuua!>”

As if right on queue, the sound of an exploding tire retired the amber vehicle right into a light pole.

“<Sorry! I was preoccupied!>”

And they were about to be even more so, if the sound of distant sirens was any indicator.

“<Arg!>” Serena grit her teeth. “<How many...speed things do they have!?>”

“<Doesn’t matter. Now’s our chance!>”

“<Our chance to what?>”

It’s not long before a swarm of police cars zip past the area.

Not like it mattered.

A narrow alleyway void of much light served as a safe haven for the furred women. It was impossible to see anything if you were in the sidewalk tainted with the bright lights of human civilization.

And that was just what they needed.

Serena could finally sigh in relief. “<Fuck! This place!>”

“<Agreed. It’s disgusting here.>”

The two girls, invisible once more, once again enter the realm of vision.

Click.

That was the sound that haunted them from behind.

Slow, they turned to see what else they had to deal with.

A black man with a 1911; tall enough to meet the top of Serena’s head. The white fedora that sat atop his short haircut matched the colors of his suit: double breasted buttons, wide lapels with a sharp peak, a breathable width at the limbs, a long-sleeved black shirt and white tie tucked underneath, and black oxfords stepping on the blood of a nearby corpse.

A black teenage girl. Nude, bruised, and with a noose wrapped around her neck.

“Uh...” confusingly uttered Kuua; to whom the pistol was aimed. “...hi?”

Yep. Just what they needed.

Africa. A land ravaged by the world.

Once a relatively peaceful land, it has become a hub for anthro trafficking.

But not all hope is lost. Groups of anti-trafficking gunmen search far and wide for these trafficking rings; salivating at the chance to rain down justice on those creeps.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

Julia Freeman, a white woman from the United States, joined this group with the intent of eradicating anthro trafficking once and for all. But lately, something has been troubling her; a vibe sensed by her anthropomorphic partner.

Just shy of six inches taller than her, attributed primarily to his mane, the well-built zebra-like male nudges the woman that seemed to be lost in thought.

“Hey,” he says in a Nigerian accent. His elbow brushes the white tank top that covered her torso. “What’s wrong?”

Her light brown eyes scanned the area: many corpses, some of them from traffickers, and the anthropomrphic prisoners being released into the fresh African grassland that surrounded them.

She sighed. “I dunno. I guess...” She turns to face her partner. “...do you ever sometimes feel like we’re not doing jack shit?”

The male’s dark brown eyes looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Day in and day out, we bust these assholes; but more just seem to keep coming.”

“That’s just how it is, Julia.” He shrugged. “Not just for anthro trafficking, but for everything. Even cleaning your room.”

“Well yeah, I know, but…” She turns to face the newly freed anthros once more. “...I joined to make a difference. But we’ve made virtually no progress since we started. I mean…” She hops and sits on the back of a black, battered pickup truck. “...am I just wasting my time here, Zavimbi? Cause the longer I fight, the more hopeless it seems.”

As he looked into her dull eyes, he could see that a shallow pit of hopelessness had begun to form. For how long, he wondered.

With a small grunt, he himself sat on the bouncing pickup truck’s bed. “Julia. Rome was not built in a day. Likewise, we will not eradicate anthro trafficking right away.”

“Well, yeah, I know that, but-”

Zavimbi held up a finger. “You only look at our work from one lens. Look again.” He holds her chin with his fuzzy fingers, and guides her head towards the slaves she had taken her disappointed eyes off of. “Do you see that child over there?” A small cheetah girl. She initially looked hesitant to leave her cage, but the older cheetah male brought out a stuffed bear that helped her unwind a bit. “Were it not for us, she would have surely become the child bride of a sick man.”

She wasn’t sure of what the cheetah male was saying to the girl; but whatever it was, it gave the small child the confidence she needed to follow him.

Her eyes eased a bit. “Yeah, well-”

“Or that man over there.” His fingers guide her head towards a rhino male. “We saved his life today. The poachers would have gutted him like a fish just to sell his body parts to the Chinese.”

And now her eyes were rolling. “Okay, you’ve got-”

“And that woman over there. We saved her from-.”

“Okay, Zavimbi, I get it!”

“And now look at me.” Zavimbi turns her head towards him.

She raised one of her black eyebrows. “You?”

“I have been fighting for many years. In that time, we had pleaded with the world many times to help us; but we always heard the same thing back: nothing.” His eyes look down at his green pants. “It felt like we were in a battle we could not win. But then, we saw evidence that the world WAS listening: you.” His eyes lock with hers.

“Me?” Her skepticism blended into surprise.

“You were among the first foreigners to join us. Uncle Sam’s money did help, sure, but your fresh fighting spirit helped to revitalize a part of me that I could feel withering away. Without you, I may have stopped fighting a long time ago.”

A small blush painted her slightly tanned cheeks. “T-that’s not true...” She looked away from him. “You’re strong, Zavimbi; always have been since the moment I met you.”

“No, Julia. It’s true.” His eyes remain locked onto hers; even if she is looking away. “You know how hard it’s been. We’ve lost many men due to cowardice; men that I thought you would struggle to keep up with. But you didn’t. You are strong, and brave, and nice, and always know how to pick me up when the world kicks me down.”

Now, her cheeks had taken on a deeper red; and not just because the African plains were hot as hell. “Zavimbi…”

“You have made a difference, Julia.” A part of him felt happy when her soft shining eyes desired a look at his. “You are making things better.” His fingers slide to cup her right cheek gently. “You are making me better.”

She chuckled. “That was cheesy as hell, you know?” Her hand gently wraps itself around his fuzzy arm.

Not like he minded it. “I know. But at least you’re smiling now. That’s all that matters.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Their faces began inching closer and closer.

A process interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Their attention snaps towards a female Okapi. Like Julia, all that covered her was a white tank top, and green combat pants; minus the black boots that protected Julia’s feet. “I’m bloody sorry to interrupt...whatever this is, but we kinda have something more important to deal with right now.” The English-accented female references the cages behind her. “Exchange bodily fluids later for all I care. Just do your jobs first.”

Zavimbi’s hand snaps away from Julia’s chin, and instead scratches at the back of his head. “Oh! Yes! Of course!”

“Sorry Mary!” Julia’s hands sat flat on her thighs. “We’ll get right on that!”

“You better.” She walks off. “Cunts."

Zavimbi was prepared to hop off of the truck, but he was stopped by Julia’s hand on his thigh. “Uh…”

When he looked at his partner, they were filled with a lust that he’d never seen before. She rubbed just shy of his groin. “You. My place. 7 o’clock.” She taps at his thigh, and then hops off the truck.

He could only think of one thing as he saw her butt sway with every step she took. A thought which could only be expressed with the aroused vibration of his exhaling nose.

The harsh slap of consciousness hits Chad as his alarm beeps with unrelenting fury.

WAKE UP, it screams.

WAKE UP!

WAKE UP!

WA-

A gentle poke from Chad’s fingers tells his phone to be quiet.

‘Time to get up,’ he thinks to himself.

Before he can start his day, he whips out a toothbrush and cleans away at his perfect pearly whites. Then, his little disposable razor slashes away any impurities from his chiseled jaw.

Clothes make the man, as they say. So, he slips his large, defined arms into a white dress shirt; buttons it up from his large pecs down to his chiseled abs; and then covers himself with a black suit.

Only two things missing: red tie, black dress shoes.

Not a single imperfection in sight. Except for his messy blonde hair. But, that’s nothing pomade can’t cover. Slick it back, comb it, and now he’s looking fresh.

Now, he can get started on his breakfast. Or not. He opens his fridge, and many Tupperware containers greet him with offerings of meals he just has to microwave.

Just one of the benefits of meal prepping.

Oh! But before he gets started, he whips out his car’s key fob, and presses its button. Now he’ll be ready to get to work once he’s rushed through his meal.

And washes the dishes he’s used.

A proper adult never leaves things for later, after all.

Now, he’s ready to hop in his shining black Mercedes, and leave the large two-story house that hides within a gated community.

‘Today’s the day,’ Chad thinks to himself. ‘You’re gonna ask her out, and she’s gonna say yes. Because you’re perfect.’

He doesn’t like to toot his own horn, but he tries to live as perfect a life as he can. He works out, he eats right, he holds true to his morals, and he has a high paying job.

What else could women want?

He takes his spot in the parking garage connected to a ten-story building. Upon leaving his car, two other men in more relaxed office attire pass him by. “Morning Ben! Carl!”

Both men look at Chad awkwardly and nod. “...morning, Chad.”

“Are we gonna kick some ass today, or what?” No answer. They just continued to walk. “Yeah…”

That’s okay. They’re just not as well-adjusted as he is. Not everyone can be an extrovert that just wants to bond with everyone.

Well, whatever. He’s not gonna let that ruin his day.

But he is going straight for the bathroom. The water he drank before leaving the house was begging for freedom.

Flush.

And of course, he washes his hands. Like you’re supposed to.

Only one of his coworkers disagreed as he went straight from the urinal to the door.

“Uh...Drake.”

The red-scaled anthro turns around. “Yeah?”

“Aren’t you going to wash your hands?”

“Who are you? My mother? Mind your own business.” He gripped at the door handle with his piss hands, and left.

“...okay, then.” Chad made a mental note to not shake his hand in the future.

But not long after Drake left, Chad smelled something foul. Skunk? No, that’s impossible. This place of work doesn’t have any skunk employees.

Which means it must be…

Bam bam bam!

“Hey!” Chad screams. “Are you smoking marijuana in there?”

“Wh-” The sound of shuffling was heard from within the stall. “No!”

Yes he was.

But, nothing seemed to have come of that. He told his boss, but there sat the scrawny black cat anthro; typing away at his keyboard with an unusually calm face.

At least until Chad entered his line of sight. “Thanks for snitching on me.”

“Smoking marijuana is bad for you, Drew. I was just looking out for your best interest.”

“Yeah? Well next time, don’t. Now piss off, narc. I have work to do; and if I have to keep looking at your stupid face, I won’t be able to focus.”

“...alright, then.” Chad struts off and towards his desk. On the way, he runs into the beautiful anthropomorphic doberman that makes his cheeks burn something fierce. “Alice! Hello!”

But the look of caution in her brown eyes did not share his enthusiasm. “...Chad.” She nods, and walks past him.

He can’t help but look back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Nothing. Not even a word.

Clearly she needed some space, so he continued off to his desk. ‘Definitely need to talk to her later.’

Laughter was heard a ways off. Chad loved laughter! Only, when he got there, the joy died down near immediately. “Hey! What’s going on over here?”

The tiny crowd just about dispersed immediately.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta get to work.”

“Me too.”

“Same here.”

Chad looked confused. “Uh...okay.”

Were they avoiding him?

No. Why would they? He’s done nothing to warrant scrutiny.

But it was even weirder when lunch time rolled around. People sat in groups, as usual, but when Chad tried to sit at a large desk occupied by Drake…

“That spot’s taken.” So then Chad tried another. “So’s that one.” And another. “They’re all taken.”

“You never sit with anyone, Drew. I’m sitting here.”

“Fine.” Drew stood, and walked off.

‘Comment on someone’s unhygienic practices one time…’ Chad rolled his eyes. But, it’s whatever. When Alice walked in, he was going to talk to her.

Maybe he can figure out why she was being moody. And, maybe he can score a date.

That is if she weren’t always sitting with that black skinny druggy. “Hey, Drew!”

“Hey Alice!” He smiled up at her. “How’s work?”

“Ugh…” She rested her head on the table.

“Yeah, sounds about right. You uhh wanna talk about it?”

“Well…” And then she saw Chad walk up to them. “...maybe some other time.”

Drew’s light brown eyes looked unfavorably up at the standing Chad. “What do you want?”

“Hey Drew,” Chad said. “I was just hoping to speak to uhh Alice here.”

She sat up. “Me? Why?” It sounded more like a complaint than a question.

“You seemed down earlier, so I wanted to see if you were alright. And, maybe, if you don’t mind, I wanna ask you something.”

She looked at Drew, and then back at Chad. “No. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“But-”

Drew intervened. “No means no, Bill Cosby.”

Chad’s eyes narrowed. “Who the hell do you think you are talking to me like that, you drugged-out twig? This is between me, and Alice.”

“Alice just told you she’s not interested. So either piss off, or I’m reporting you to HR for harassment.”

“But…” Chad looked at Alice, but she refused to taint her eyes with his image.

Then, he looked at the surrounding break room. There wasn’t a single soul that was on his side. No, every single one of their eyes held him in contempt.

Defeated, he retreats back to his Tupperware sadly. But he didn’t quite feel hungry. Especially since he could still hear their failure to suppress their voices.

“The nerve of that guy,” Drew whispered.

“I know. I feel tense every time he gets near me.”

“Now you know why I smoke,” he joked; much to her giggling.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to get into that, but...it scares me.”

“Aw, it’s nothing to be scared of. I do it all the time, and I’m just fine.”

“Well, then, if you’re such an expert, maybe you can show me sometime?”

“Alright, bet. How’s after work sound? That way, Chad doesn’t rat us out.”

She looked Chad right in his blue eyes. “Sounds good to me.”

No.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Chad was better than him in every way! His car was better! His clothes were better! His body was better! Hell, he bet that his house was better too!

So then how could he lose to that skinny stoner piece of trash?

How was he still so alone?

No friends. No family. No one.

After work, all he wanted to do was walk around the local arboretum. There were trees everywhere, so the trails had more of a secluded feel to them.

The only thing of note for miles was the sound of his dress shoes crunching against the unpaved ground; and of course, the trees.

And the smell of that god-awful skunk again.

That was the last thing he needed; a reminder of his failure.

Where was it coming from? He needed to find out so that he could…

...oh. She was leaning against a tree next to him.

An anthropomorphic cat with fur that made it hard to tell if she was fat, or just very fluffy. Maybe both?

She covered herself with a beanie on her head, a black shirt on her torso, and ripped gray jean shorts on her thighs.

Her skeptical eyes, made moreso by the black eyeliner that complemented her white fur, locked onto him. “What? You gonna narc on me?”

He opened his jaw, and raised a finger, but then it dipped once more. “...you know what? No. What’s the point? The world is a chaotic bundle of shit, anyway.”

“Amen to that, brother.” She raises her joint, and takes a puff.

“By all means, smoke a million joints. I don’t care anymore.” He continued on his walk.

But her response made him stop. “Only if you have the other 999,999.” She exhales what she was holding in. “So what brings you here? Did your girl break up with you, or something?” Her folded ears flatten when she saw Chad hold back his tears. “Oh...sorry.”

But he could hold them back no longer. In fact, he had to support himself on a tree with one hand as the other covered his grief-filled eyes.

“God dammit it’s not fair! Look at me! I’m in good shape! I’m financially successful! But she still picked someone else!”

“Uh…” She felt bad for making him cry, so she walked up to him, and pats him on the shoulder. “There there…oh wow, you weren’t kidding about being in shape.” She couldn’t help but squeeze at his strong shoulder.

“Good luck that did me! I have nothing to show for all my self-improvement!” He slams his fist against the bark. “Nothing! After seven years! And now that the girl I love hates me, I don’t know what to do anymore...” He collapsed onto his knees. “You don’t have to stay with me out of pity. Just leave me to rot.”

But instead, she sits next to him, and rests her back on the tree. “Wow. You look like you need this more than me.”

His teary eyes look at the joint she was offering. “...no. I don’t do drugs…”

“Oh really? And how’s that going for ya?”

He had to admit. She made a great point.

He’s avoided drugs like the plague because he’d been convinced that drugs were for losers, and Alice didn’t deserve a loser.

Yet, he lost her to a poor stoner.

“Come on,” the feline said. “It’ll help.”

“You don’t even know me…”

“Yeah, but I feel bad for making you cry. Besides, smoking is more fun with company.”

He eyes the joint once more. Reluctantly, he grips at the little piece of paper with his index finger and thumb.

‘Am I really gonna do this? A lifetime of abstinence? Just to ease my pain?’

Then again, thinking on the feline’s words, what has that abstinence gotten him? Sure, he had fancy clothes; a fancy car; and a big, fancy house; but all of that meant nothing if he had no one to share it with.

Meanwhile, Drew’s little apartment was going to be filled with Alice, and her sweet laughter.

He didn’t have a large house.

He didn’t have a lot of money.

He didn’t have the body of a Greek god.

But he had someone that loves him.

So in reality, who was the loser?

That was the question that encouraged Chad to press the joint against his lips, and inhale.

Because he knew, deep down, that he was the loser.

One that coughs not long after taking his first hit. “Oh…! God…!” He quickly hands it back to the giggling feline.

“Yeah. First time’s always rough.” She pats him on the back.

“That’s awful!” Chad screamed as he rested his own back against the tree. “What the hell is that? Poison?”

“Give it some time. It’ll solve all your problems. Trust me.” She takes another puff herself, which leaves Chad confused.

“How do you not cough when doing that?”

“Experience.” She exhales, handing it back to him. “Try it again, but try not to cough immediately this time.”

He took it in his fingers once more. He inhaled deeply this time, having gotten a bit used to the sensation, and the exhale that followed rid him of not only the smoke; but also the turmoil within.

It was the oddest feeling; like the sorrow within him was pushed out by the cozy warmth that spread throughout his body.

“Well?” She asked.

He looked down at the joint. “Whoa. Where has this stuff been all my life?”

She chuckles, sneaking her joint back. “It’s always been there. You’ve just been pushing it away.” She extends a white paw. “Name’s Tammy, by the way. Tammy Smith.”

Chad’s iron grip meets her soft touch. “Chad. Chad Hemingway.”

Boy, was she giggly today. “Hemingway? Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, m’lord.” Tammy bowed sarcastically, much to Chad’s laughter.

“Yeah, I guess that is a funny last name. Hemingway,” he chuckles.

“Well look at who’s all laughsy now.”

“I can’t help it. It’s like my body’s wrapped itself in a cloud of goodness.”

“A cloud of goodness?” She takes another puff, and releases a cloud of her own. “Yeah, that’s a good way to put it.”

“Man, I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this-”

The sound of Chad’s growling stomach fills both of their ears.

It certainly got a chuckle out of Tammy. “Aw, baby’s first munchies.”

“No, I just haven’t eaten anything since lunch. I was starving even before I came here.” His hands fall on his stomach. “But, now that you mention it, it does kinda feel...different.”

“Like you could tear a few burgers apart all by yourself?”

“You know, that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

“Yeah. I could kill for a cheeseburger right now.”

“We should definitely get some after we finish that marijuana.” Asked Chad, much to the surprise of the feline.

“We? As in...with me?”

“Yeah. It’s the least I can do to thank you for your help. If you want to, of course.”

She looked away. “I mean...if you’re paying, I’m not gonna say no to free burgers…”

As Chad found out, being a “perfect” man only isolated him from others. It wasn’t until he was willing to allow imperfection—or in this case, willing to look the other way—that his life took a turn for the better.

He found that the old Chinese saying reigns true; even today. Clear water has no fish.

Honestly, I don’t know what to say.

I’m miserable, and so god damn lonely.

I often look at couples, and how happy they are to be in each other’s company. The visible part of me is happy for them; that they’ve found someone with whom they can be at ease with.

But there’s also a part of me that really, really hates them.

It sucks; to have a wall you can’t put down; A wall that’s just thin enough to prevent you from truly bonding with someone; a wall that prevents you from letting anyone in.

Even my own mother.

Just the other day, I was at Planet Fitness doing crunches. Over by the bottles of sanitizer and paper towels, two total strangers locked eyes. They were just looking to get the same thing, but it seemed like they found something more.

I’ll never forget the way they looked at each other. The eyes of one hungered for the other; like they were special just for being alive.

No one’s ever looked at me like that. In fact, when women do look at me, they flash me a smile.

It was flattering; for a while. Until you realize that a lot of women do that just so that they won’t be assaulted.

And I don’t blame them. Men can often be monsters.

But eventually, it begins to take its toll; to be seen as a monster.

“Big deal?” Some of you might say. “Boo hoo, you have to worry about a look, and not about being raped.”

I had that same mentality for a while. But as time goes on, years even, without so much as a look of companionship; I don’t know. Things, change, I guess.

I wasn’t really hyper-focused on this kind of stuff until I had a near-death experience a few years ago. Until then, I was relatively neutral in life; no happiness whatsoever. No girlfriend, no parties, no friends. All I needed was my video games and anime, and I was happy.

But all of that changed when an 18-wheeler almost crashed into me. Had that driver reacted even half-a-second later, I would be dead.

I would have lived my life without knowing what happiness meant; without knowing what the gentle hand of a loving woman felt like; without knowing what it meant to be accepted as part of a community.

Coming to terms with those emotions all at once filled me with a panic I’d never felt before.

And ever since then, life’s just looked different. The games I used to enjoy, and the anime I used to consume, just didn’t hit me the same anymore.

And for a while, I didn’t know what I wanted; but I did know what I hated.

At the mall, I often see teens in love. One of them kisses the other, both giggle, and they just overall enjoy each other’s company.

It hurts to look at every time. But, in public, my body does a good job of hiding pain. All they see is a bored rando.

But on the inside, they serve as a painful reminder of something I’d never had. And probably never will.

I’m 25 now. 25 years without a girlfriend, and it’s all my fault. I don’t groom myself all that well, I’m unemployed, I have no drive, and I still waste my time on stupid bullshit.

And, most importantly, I can’t let anyone in.

Every time I get a chance to know someone, my body does its best to prevent any form of bonding.

For instance, just yesterday I went to an auto parts store. A Naruto t-shirt covered my out-of-shape torso; something the cute woman at the counter noticed.

“I like your shirt,” she said.

And what did I do?

I said “Thanks.” And then, I looked away.

And a week ago, I was buying hairbands at a grocery store, and the cute wallaby girl at the counter playfully asked me “Can I have one, mate?”

“Sure. Knock yourself out,” I responded.

She giggled, my face was neutral, and that was the end of that.

Now that I think about it, maybe women have been looking at me like that. My body’s just been protecting me by pushing people away before they can hurt me again.

I’ve been used before, you know. When I was 15, and didn’t know any better, this online girl told me the kindest words.

Making me feel wise by telling me I was mature for my age.

Teasing me with sexy anthro images that “she” probably got from Google.

Making me think that she was offering sex.

When really, all she was after was me. She eventually convinced me to send nude photos of myself. And then, her messages stopped immediately.

It didn’t hurt at the time. I’d coped by thinking to myself that maybe her phone just died.

But the years kept coming; and little did I know, it would severely impact me to this day.

I was used.

And now, all I was left with was a barrier that prevents anyone from getting too close. That’s probably why I don’t groom myself, or clean my room. Women don’t like that; and by extension, me.

And it fucking sucks.

Why me?

I already had trouble with girls before that asshole came into my life and ruined me!

I was already out of shape! I was already undesired!

But maybe, that’s why I was the perfect target. I fell for “her” sweet lies out of desperation.

Thinking back, maybe my first clue should’ve been the fact that a woman was actually paying attention to me. But I was too horny and desperate to realize it at the time.

Well, I’m no longer that horny or desperate.

If I’m being honest with you, I think this is my body’s way of giving up. 25 years, and nothing to show for it other than grooming?

Yeah, that sounds about right.

People like me are always told from childhood that the women will come when you become financially successful.

In other words, people like me will only attract people that seek to use me, so why should I bother?

No one can ever truly love me as I am now.

Author's Note:

I experimented with heaviness in this chapter. Honestly, mixed feelings.

Author's Note:

This is based on a dream I had a long time ago.

___

You stand outside of an odd house. Its wooden exterior is painted green; and on the second floor—the highest it goes—you see a party on a large balcony.

Music, laughter, and women call your attention. They smiled and giggled as the roar of their conversations reach all the way over to you.

They look happy; a sensation you haven’t felt in…

...fuck. Who knows?

Normally, you felt empty inside; like you were waiting for something big to happen. But today, for some reason, you just had the urge to get closer.

Your heart races as you approach the front door.

Was this even a good idea? You weren’t invited. Yet, there’s no one guarding the front; and no one waiting on the inside once you turn the doorknob.

Now, you’re surrounded by the thump of the music’s bass that bounced off of the walls around you. It was matched only by your heart.

The door closes behind you. There was no turning back now.

You took more steps inside. The gray wooden flooring beneath your feet thumps with every step you took.

To your right, pink lounge chairs house no one; but they did orbit an ottoman made from the same material. And everywhere else around you? Empty. It seemed the party was only upstairs.

It wasn’t long before you found the stairs; and with them, two chuckling women that were descending. The thump of their feet against the wood startle you. Were they going to kick you out? It didn’t seem like it. They didn’t even take the time to look at you. Their eyes are on each other; as if you’re a ghost.

But, at the very least, it seems like it’s okay for you to continue.

One step.

Two steps.

Then several more.

Once at the top, it doesn’t seem like there’s a door to separate the outside from the in. It allows you to get a better view of the party. The music’s bass thumps no more; rather, now you hear the cheerful pop song you’ve heard a million times at your retail job.

Much like the women you saw before, every woman on sight wore no footwear and covered themselves with jean shorts and a colorful t-shirt.

They smile; they giggle; they don’t even know that you’re there.

It was the strangest thing. You walked around, and scanned the area; but even as you do, not once are you so much as spared a look of skepticism.

But, then again, what else was new? That was your experience with women in general. You were never desired.

“Hey.” But that didn’t mean you didn’t have desires of your own. “My name’s John.”

No answer. It was like you were a ghost.

So, with another woman, you tried again. And again. And again. But every attempt was as successful as the last.

There you stood; still a lone blubbery mess among a crowd of thin, talkative people.

Why did you even come here? It was evident that you wouldn’t fit in when you were standing outside.

Down the stairs you go again, sighing with disappointment.

Well, at least now you can continue your journey towards...somewhere you inexplicably can’t remember.

You reach the pink lounge chairs once more. Only this time, one of them was being occupied.

An oddity; something you’ve never seen. It was human, but...not? Fur like a dalmatian; even down to the digitigrade legs that rest themselves on the ottoman.

Well, whatever it was, it was female; made obvious from the pink areolas that point outwards from her large chest; a soft, curvy figure he’d never seen on a man; the lack of a penis; and of course, the lack of clothing that revealed everything.

Not even underwear.

She sat her bare, fuzzy butt on the lounge chair; absorbed in her magazine without so much as a care for whatever was around her.

She seemed almost bored. At least, until her blue eyes fell on you.

Then, her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and she shot you a joyful open-maw smile. “Ya!?” She yapped enthusiastically, nodding quickly, as she put away the magazine.

“Uh…” You raised your right hand with unease. “No, I’m good.” But either she didn’t understand you, or she didn’t care. Either way, she stood, and gripped you by the wrist. “No, really, I’m not interested.”

Yet, you allow yourself to be pulled; then seated. Then, without giving you another chance to respond, she straddles you and hugs you closely.

Nothing happens after that. She just kneels above you, smiling, as the cosmos spins around you.

Your head feels light; calm; good. Sensations superseded by the softness between her boobs as they embraced your face.

It was evident from the lack of movement that sex was not happening, but you didn’t care. You just sat there, and bathed in the warmth of her furry compassion.

It could be argued that it was wrong to enjoy the commodification of the female form; that succumbing to primitive instinct was wrong. But, finally having some reprieve from the black hole that was your life, it felt good to bask in some sunlight for once.

_ _

The long, moist, slender violation running up my cheek repeatedly meant only one thing.

My Wolf step-sister Jenny was enjoying the taste of me.

“Wake up, Gabey,” she whispered. “It’s time to get ready for school.”

Of course, she was in her underwear.

And, more importantly, as my burning eyes struggled to pry themselves open, I could see from the red numbers of my digital clock that it was way too early.

I couldn’t speak up, initially. Even my vocal cords were still waking up with a series of groans. “Why the fuck do you always wake me up so god damn early?”

“Ooh, someone’s got a potty mouth.” She had the audacity to position herself above me, and subject my eyes to the horrors of seeing my sister in her unmentionables. “Do I have to punish you?”

Well, step-sister, but that’s now how I saw her.

She was my biological sister as far as I was concerned, and I had only one thing on my mind right now.

“Get the fuck off me,” I demanded.

“Looks like I do have to punish you aft-”

I gripped the base of her tail as hard as I could. If there was one thing I couldn’t tolerate, it was the interruption of my sleep.

As expected, her yaps of pain were followed by a desperate spring that gave her some distance.

Now, to get some more sleep before school.

I covered my poor, poor eyes, and prayed that she got the message.

“Ow!” I heard her scream. “That hurt!”

“Good. Now get out of my room,” I groggily pleaded.

But it wouldn’t be Jenny if she actually listened to me. No, the tap of her claws grew louder and louder; until they stopped right in front of me.

There was no way I could sleep with her right in front of me. Though, maybe she knew that, and planned on me opening my eyes.

You ever get turned on by the sight of your sister’s black panties? The little grooves and crevices telling you that it was indeed covering her vagina?

If so, stay away from me.

“Do it again,” she pleaded with a voice just as hungry as her eyes.

“Ugh…” I turned around before the shake of her ass made me want to vomit.

I hadn’t told her, but I was still upset about yesterday.

It was the weekend, and our parents were out of town. Again. And do you know what happens to Jenny when they’re out of town?

“Gabe!” She yells. “Pants off NOW!”

Her claws were ready to grip at me with the hunger of Bill Cosby himself.

Unfortunately for her, I had an out. “Piss off. I’m meeting with a friend.”

Her posture just about straightened itself out even faster than her ears. “Friend?”

“Yeah. Friend. I have those, you know.”

“Who is he?” She rapidly closed the gap between us. “Have I met him before? Is he from school? Or at least a similar age? Is it a human? A Wolf? Something else?”

“None of your business!” I shove her back. “Just...go do your internet stuff like you always do. I have to go.”

“Oh…” Her ears flatten. “Okay…”

You’re probably thinking of me as this huge asshole right about now, and I guess you’re right. It’s a front I have to put on in front of her. Otherwise, she just won’t leave me alone.

And it’s not like I enjoyed becoming like this in front of her. In fact, I felt guilty at first. But when you’re being suffocated, you’d do anything to breathe again.

And in this case, anything means being an asshole to Jenny.

But, it’s not like it works 100% of the time.

Did you know that I have a secret agent hell-bent on keeping women away from me?

That’s right. It’s Jenny.

At the time of one mission, she had her malicious eyes focused on one person in particular. She was short, slender, and cute in all the right places.

She was a Cheetah that I’ve had my eyes on for a long, long time; and I guess Jenny picked up on that.

And I was so close at finally landing a date with her.

How close?

“Say, uh, Imani…”

Close enough to finally get the guts to ask her out myself.

“Hm?”

I don’t know what it was about Cheetah girls, but the way she smiled up at me with those big, shiny amber eyes of hers was just so precious. Maybe those little upward curls at the ends of her lips helped.

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

Her voice just now sounded expectant; like it was a sure yes waiting to happen. “Yeah?”

And she’d even brought her hands together in front of her thighs.

Everything about this moment was just...perfect.

From the warm, gentle breeze that told us spring was over.

To the bright colors of her fur made mesmerizing by the sun that bathed the land in warm light.

It was like life had given me the perfect opportunity to ask out my biggest crush.

“Imani, I-”

Only for it to be taken away near immediately.

“Gabey!” Jenny’s predatory arms wrap themselves around me from behind. “I finally found you!”

I’d never felt my eyes go so wide in all my life.

And just like that, Imani’s warm smile decayed into sorrow.

“G-Gabey?” Imani uttered with a crackling voice.

“N-no wait!” I screamed, trying to break free of Jenny’s kung-fu grip. “Hold on!”

“Hm?” I don’t know why Jenny pretended to not notice Imani until just now. The tall Wolf looked down at the tiny Cheetah as if she’d just seen a penny on the ground. “Who’s this, baby?”

“Stop it, Jenny!” Finally, I broke free. “This isn’t funny! Look, Imani, this is just my stupid step-sister…”

“Step-sister?” She brought up a hand to her heart, and looked sad. “Gabey...after all we’ve been through...”

“Jenny, I swear to god, stop!”

“And after we spent two good nights together just last week…”

“Jenny, tell her the truth! Now!”

“The truth?” Her ears perked up, and she slithered her way next to the petrified Imani. “Just between us girls, I’ll be honest with you.” And maybe I was just imagining this, but she seemed to be pushing her bigger boobs against Imani as she hugged her with one arm. “You’re not Gabe's type.”

“Imani, I swear to god I’m telling the truth! You have to believe me!”

But judging from her tear-soaked eyes, she didn’t.

She summoned every bit of speed from her ancestors as she could, and she ran as fast as she could in the direction opposite to me.

My heart, already heavy with beats of panic, now felt like a pit that traveled down to my stomach.

“Phew,” Jenny blows, hands to her wider hips. “That was close. You almost made the mistake of asking out that bad woman.”

I didn’t move.

I didn’t speak.

I just stood there. Watching the air where Imani used to be.

Still, Jenny took it upon herself to drag me towards her with one of her Cosby claws. “You should just stick with me, Gabe. I’ll keep you safe.”

Safe?

When I’m with her, I feel anything but safe.

But now, more than anything, I was too furious to move. It was like she set off an EMP in my brain.

One of these days, I swear I’m just gonna let her have it. And I’m not gonna feel bad about it.

The Appalachian Mountains. Usually dark and quiet at this time of night, the roads screeched with the violent slide of rubber on asphalt.

But it wasn’t continuous noise. It would come and go; stating, stopping, and quickly returning to the ears of anyone in earshot.

Its source? Sliding through a tight hairpin curve surrounded by forest; its location given away by a bright blue-ish white light that quickly zoomed past wherever it current was.

There came a point in a major highway where it met with the uphill of scrawny state road. The former, assuming the presence of sun, was surrounded by a left-ward view of miles and miles of mountains covered in trees; a view made easier due to the fact that the left was downhill. To the right, however, it was hard to make out anything from the thickness of the trees that blocked the uphill view.

That was where the little intersecting road ventured, and that was where the bright lights were quickly descending from; along with the hum of an engine that got ever louder.

Sleek, slender, and cherry red; all words to describe the decelerating Toyota 86 GTS that was making its way downhill.

Its descent continued until it obeyed the red stop sign that stood just short of the major highway. If the black and white sign next to it was to be believed, with arrows pointing in both horizontal directions, this was highway 522.

And to the car’s left, two other poles helped to narrow down their location. Behind it, many signs were ordering people to follow different rules; but the driver didn’t care for it. The most notable sign, in black and white, read ‘2010.’

And as for the sign next to the car, it was hard to make out due to the all consuming darkness of the night. But, it was evident that the diamond-shaped sign was yellow, and featured a black squiggly arrow pointing upwards.

But every bit of this was irrelevant to the white anthropomorphic rabbit that sat at the driver’s seat.

Shorter than the white man in the passenger’s seat, the Nigerian accented female looked at him with anticipation in her eyes. “Sooooo?” She asked in a non-human language. “What did you think?”

The man, panic etched into his anxious face, looked even whiter than she did. Even with the car standing still, he couldn’t help but keep a tight grip on both the car door and the left part of his seat.

“What did I think-” he grunts, irately. “I was screaming the entire time. How do you think I did!?” One of his shaky fingers points at her. “Scratch that! How did you learn to do this!?”

“I have been cooped up in that...what do you humans call it again?”

“House…”

“Yes!” She points back at him with a white furred finger. “I have been cooped up in that hawse for over one Earth revolution. After watching that one show with the...uh…the vroom vroom things...”

“...cars?”

“Yes! With the cars, I thought it would be fun to try it.”

The look of disbelief on his face was almost painful. “So...you saw Initial D, and felt like learning to drift?”

“Yes.”

“You? Who hadn’t seen a car once in your life until you saw Initial D?”

“That is correct.”

He rests an elbow on the car door, and covers his face with his palm. “No wonder you wanted to learn how to drive…”

“Buuut…” She leans in towards him. “I was good, was I not?”

He faces her once more. “Well, yeah, but you could’ve died!”

The grin on her furred face was starting to fade. “But-”

He gripped at her shoulders; almost desperately. “Nyeupe.” And his face tried to be serious; though bits of anxiety and worry failed to be suppressed. “Promise me that you’ll never do this again.”

She knew that look. Every time something reminded him of that, the paired feelings of sorrow never failed to make an appearance.

“...okay,” she softly utters, nodding. “I promise.”

Not like she could blame him for feeling that way. However awful the experience was for her, she knew his pain was infinitely worse.

Though, she didn’t know by just how much. Never has she been in that position.

“...alright. Good.” He returned to a proper seating position. “Now let’s get the hell out of here. We can’t risk anyone seeing us in this old junker.”

---

Jul 20, 2200. That’s what it read in the corner of a TV screen that rests on a white wall. But, the date was the last thing on the minds of people dressed in fancy black suits.

No, what had their attention was the white anthropomorphic rabbit on the screen that wore nothing more than an oversized purple v-neck shirt. At her large chest, the words ‘human eyes only’ insulted the vision of every woman in the room; but not as much as the bottom of the shirt which was awfully high up on her thick fuzzy thighs. If she so much as raised a knee, her underwear would be on display for the entire world to see.

If she was even wearing any.

No, Agent 621 shook his head at the thought; his white ponytail following the sway. Whatever this thing was, the intention was obvious. The entirety of her appearance was meant to capture the eyes of anyone with a functioning libido. An assumption bolstered by her current pose; resting the side of her right thigh on a black couch; one leg going under the other.

“What are-” 621 said unenthusiastically,

One of his fellow male agents fanned him off quickly. “Ssh! The boss said that there’s something big going on in Rabbit Chan’s stream right now!”

On the screen, Rabbit Chan sat up, clasped her hands together, tilted her head, and smiled. “Thank you for the donation, hmofa lover 69! I love you so much!”

‘...huh?’ Thought Agent 621. He wanted to look away, but if there really was something important here, it was worth powering through.

The screen pinged with a notification. Then, a female text to speech voice flirtatiously read the contents of a text that popped up. “Rabbit Chan Feet pee ell zee has donated one dollar! The cutie says: show us your tits.”

A request that would make any normal woman face palm. But, Agent 621 knew what she was about. Rather than scold him for such a crude request, her light pink ears blushed a few shades darker as she giggled and looked away from the camera.

“You know I cannot do that! I would get suspended...” And to add onto her charm, her small, gentle hands tried their hardest to block the view of her massive blushing lop ears. “...but! I do have something to show everyone!”

She bends forward, reaching for something on the floor that was not in view of the camera. Without the support of her chest from the back, and perhaps with the absence of a bra, her large boobs sway as the strange creature shifts in her attempt to pick up...something.

Agent 621 merely tilted his bored head.

No one could be this stupid, right?

Surely, the audience knew that she was just playing them like a fiddle. Right?

Wrong. On the right side of the screen, a text chat scrolled upwards as new messages arrived faster than the firing speed of an Uzi. Message after message, graphical reaction after graphical reaction; all lusting after the unknown creature’s fuzzy white displays of fertility.

When she came back up, she held a golden retriever puppy in her hands. “Look at what I have found! Is it not the cutest thing ever?” It was even licking her nose.

Another pinged message arrives. “Dragon layer has donated twenty dollars!” Flirts the text-to-speech. “The cutie says: did you know that if you close your eyes, stick your tongue out, and pretend to shake salt onto it, you’ll actually taste salt?”

Rabbit Chan, surprised, places the puppy on the floor gently and looks at her hand. “Is that really true?” She intended to find out. But, what she didn’t expect was that trying out the donation’s suggestion made it look like she was pleasing an invisible man, and eagerly awaiting his load.

Or, maybe she did know, and didn’t care.

Agent 621 had seen enough. Without uttering another word, the unamused man simply walked away from the overly white break room.

She’s tempting his people; revealing her face to all despite knowing that the government is desperately after her. And yet, over a year into the investigation, no one knows where she is.

But that all changed when he felt a vibration in his head. His brain implant, one that every human being has, plays call audio that only Agent 621 can hear. It also alters his vision; displaying a HUD visible only to his eyes.

Passers-by had yellow squares on their head; and above them, their state-issued name. But that mattered little to him at the moment; the big prompt in front of him taking precedent. It housed a picture of a fit black man with a short, clean haircut. Under him, text read ‘Accept? Deny?’

Without uttering a word, Agent 621 thought ‘accept.’ It triggered a hologram of the man to appear in front of him in some odd display of Augmented Reality only visible to the agent alone.

‘Agent 621,’ said the black man with his mouth closed. ‘I need you to report to my office immediately.’

The agent responded back with only his thoughts. ‘Yes, sir.’

A request Agent 621 fulfilled immediately. He snaked his way through the yellow squares that lit up his vision, and the orange squares which focused on any sort of sign he could see.

As far as he was concerned, nothing mattered other than the squares. Not the appearance of his surroundings, or the awkward silence of the air only filled with the sound of dress shoes and heels clicking against the floor.

Seriously. Not one word was uttered in earshot. Even if his coworkers faced each other, they seemed to only communicate wirelessly with their brain implants.

And why would he care? The AI can point him in the direction where he needs to go. It leaves his mind unoccupied for other, more important, things.

He walked and walked like a drone until he saw a green square surround the sign next to his boss’ office. In he went, of course.

‘You wanted to see me, Mr. Smith?’ Thought Agent 621.

‘Yes, Agent.’ Mr. Smith stood. ‘We found it.’

The agent’s bored face did not change. ‘Rabbit Chan?’

‘The stolen 86.’ Without moving a muscle, Mr. Smith’s brain implant sends something to the agent’s HUD. A poor, pixelated picture; but a picture nonetheless. Beyond the thickets of the forest, a red car was just barely spotted downhill from where the photo was taken. ‘A local found it drifting in the streets of Kentenia State Forest.’

‘I’ve never heard of that place. Where is it?’

‘South of here; between highways 221 ans 522. And, if it helps, the road in the photo appears to be State highway 2010.’

Once more, the agent’s HUD changes to display a map. Highway 221 sat on top of a map, parallel to 522; which sat lower on the map. And in-between them, vertical highway 2010 connected them. In the middle of it all, a road named Little Shepherd Trail seemed to mark the high point. Both halves of 2010 went downhill from there. On the upper portion, there wasn’t much in terms of twists and turns.

But the lower portion was about as wiggly as a cooked spaghetti noodle. In fact, when viewed with the context of a potential drifting spot, it seemed almost too obvious.

And sure enough, a blue dot illuminated a spot on the lower portion of 2010. Presumably, the vehicle’s location based on the photo.

‘Who in their right mind would want to drift in this day and age?’ Thought Agent 621. ‘Especially in a car that has no chance against even the cheapest AI powered hovercraft?’ The questions made a light bulb go off in his head. ‘Wait. We don’t know anything about the perpetrator. How can that be? The photographer’s brain implant would have told him who the perpetrator was. Unless…’

‘Are you finally seeing the picture, Agent 621?’

Though the expression on his emotionless face does not change, he nods. ‘Rabbit Chan.’

It had to be.

Rabbit Chan. In his own backyard.

And now that he knew where to find her, it was only a matter of time before the government finally had her.

Not like he was passionate about the prospect. In fact, almost nothing seemed to excite him anymore.

Not even the sight of the racing white cubes that had replaced Rabbit Chan in the break room television.

No one was watching it. Not even the nerds in front of the television that seemed to be talking of the footage in their heads. He couldn’t hear a word of it since they were not transmitting to him; only to each other.

But he’s heard the rhetoric before. Teraflops this, 100-bit that, fusion whatever here, g-diffuser there. Nothing he understood, but technical aspects that seemed to matter.

It was never about the actual race either; nor technique. Or passion. It was all technicalities and theories.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d heard a conversation about racing that didn’t involve self-driving cars.

Maybe he never had.

From what he could remember, there were human drivers well over 150 years ago. But with the advent of AI, self-driving cars got better and better; to the point where the gap between human and machine was quickly closed.

Eventually, no human could beat the machines; a moment in time where morale for human racers severely dipped. But it wasn’t the final nail in the coffin.

Something killed their motivation once and for all, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Maybe the lack of a need to drive created less drivers—and by extension racers—over time?

Maybe. After all, the number of human drivers nowadays was practically zero; Agent 621 included.

Consequently, the lack of a need for speed meant that modern hovercrafts were not faster than the average car back in the 2010s. Maybe in terms of racing, that was terrible.

But no one cared about racing anymore. Not after self-driving cars took over.

“FUCK!” Screamed a random man running past him.

‘...huh?’ He looked around. When did he get outside? Government building behind him, road ahead of him, and many floating white cubes zipping past.

And, according to his HUD, it was just shy of 9 PM.

In the distance, a floating box flashing all sorts of reds, whites, and blues quickly zipped in and drifted to block the running man’s path.

But not even being nearly run over by a floating drifting cube was enough to make 621 flinch.

And a drift it was; a long one. It was relatively heavy, and it had no access to friction; which meant that it had to stop way in advance just to come to a stop.

But once it did, from its speakers, a voice reminiscent of Joe Swanson from Family Guy loudly echoes. “Stop resisting! Get on the ground! Now!”

A tiny sliding door opened in front of the floating white block, and out of the hole underneath popped a black metallic rod with a hole in the middle.

And you can bet it was aimed at the perp; it had even made a cocking sound reminiscent of a shotgun.

Quaking in his shoes, the man has no choice but to fall on his knees with his arms raised.

Not a surprising outcome; at least to Agent 621. ‘Joe AI does it again,’ he thought, unamused.

The floating white block may not have been blinding fast, but that didn’t matter in a world where not even the criminals owned cars they could control.

And speaking of cars, here comes his self-driver now. Boxy, white, no windows, and floating.

Just like every other hovercraft around him, if the moving blue squares in his HUD were any indicator. Too many to make out his surroundings if he cared to pay attention to them; which he didn’t.

There was no point to doing so.

‘Car,’ he thought once inside his square mode of transportation. ‘Take me to the spot on this map.’ He saw a flash of the Kentenia State Forest’s map on his HUD before it disappeared upwards.

“You got it, boss!” The car, imitating human speech perfectly, responds. “We should be there in like an hour.”

‘Cool,’ Thught agent 621, unamused. ‘And play me some lo-fi music, or something.’

“Yes, boss!”

On his HUD, the text ‘Now playing: Lo-Fi Music’ popped up for a brief moment. No artist; the track was generated automatically on the spot.

If he was honest, he didn’t quite care for the stuff. But, it was better than silence. For all of two minutes.

‘...on second thought, play me a funny video.’

“Not feeling lo-fi? I gotchu fam!”

Before his very eyes, the set of The Big Bang Theory filled his eyes like he was there in person. Yellow lighting, shelves in the back full of all sorts of junk, windows even further back, and—of course—the iconic brown couch in the middle.

In the right-most portion of the couch, communist Chinese leader Mao Zedong was enjoying a cup of ice cream.

“So,” says Mao, “you say you have...landlord?” His question was met with laughter from a fake audience.

But just before Leonard—the nerd seated in the white couch next to Mao—was able to answer, his tall roommate Sheldon holds a hand out. “Don’t answer that.” More laughter from the fake audience as Sheldon’s focus snaps to Mao. “Also, that’s my spot.”

The fake audience was laughing, but Agent 621 was not.

Like the race he saw before, and the song he just cut off, this scene was also powered entirely by AI. Mao Zedong did not actually make an appearance in the original series, but that mattered little to the automaton in his head. It pulled stuff at random, and displayed it for the instant gratification of the viewer.

But this, too, left Agent 621 unamused. Not like that was a shocking revelation to him.

Abruptly, the AI weighed in. “You seem down, Homey G. You want me to whip out the Insta-Cum 9000?”

‘Hmm…’ 621 placed fingers on his chin. ‘...no, not now.’

---

When she wasn’t streaming, Nyeupe—aka Rabbit Chan—did…

...well, nothing. There was an assortment of entertaining devices at her disposal, beyond the black couch she sat on, but nothing seemed to scratch an itch that got worse with time.

All she could think about was the screeching of rubber tires on asphalt; the pull of the car as it threatened to shake her off with every tight turn; the sensation of being able to move quickly without her large ears getting in the way.

It was such an addicting sensation that she had completely forgotten about the AI generated video playing on the TV in front of her. It was in the style of Initial D’s animation, but it was scripted like every other generated battle she’d seen. Takumi, the protagonist, eventually struggles to pass his opponent; he sees an opportunity on the course to move ahead; he pulls a risky maneuver that always pays off; end of video.

There was no sense of weight to it; no stakes. Even if she asked for the winner to be up in the air, it always revolved around the same techniques she’d seen before.

Never once had she seen something that wasn’t present in the original show; something new.

She sighed just thinking about all of this. ‘I laughed at you when you said that having all of your desires was boring,’ she thought in her native tongue . ‘I guess you were right, Ezra. This suuuuucks…’

And she couldn’t even use the instant orgasm machine anymore; she broke it after 24 hours. It wasn’t built for a rabbit’s libido, after all. Many uses, low cooldown times in-between; the perfect recipe for disaster.

So what was she to do? She didn’t really have the drive for much else.

And she didn’t have to pick up Ezra until…

She springs from the couch, and swipes keys from the arm of the couch. “Shit!”

According to the clock, it was 10 o’clock.

She was late.

---

‘And that’s pretty much the gist of it,’ thought Agent 621, still bored. As usual.

From the blocky hovercraft’s speakers, a gentle female voice spoke. “Oh, you poor baby! So nothing excites you?”

‘No.’

“Not even the thought of getting off work, and eating your favorite food?”

‘I don’t have one.’

“Well, that’s no good!” She said. “Now I hate to do this, but I need to interrupt our session to bring you a message from our sponsor: Pfizer!”

A male voice stepped into the conversation. “Hey, Josh! So I hear you’re not well acquainted with happiness nowadays!”

Josh, aka Agent 621, sighed. ‘Nope.’

“Well, I think I may just have the solution to all your problems!”

‘What? Drugs?’

“Not just any drugs! We just came out with our newest product: Depregone!”

‘That sounds like an abortion pill.’

“It won’t terminate a pregnancy, but it will abort your blues! Guaranteed, or your money back!”

Josh rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.’

He sighed once more. Damn AI therapist ads...

---

The tires of Nyeupe’s cherry red 86 spin as they approach the mid-point of highway 2010. From Little Shepherd Drive onwards, it was all downhill.

---

“Yo,” utters the hovercraft in its original chill voice. “I think I’ve found something right in front of us.”

‘What? Is it it Rabbit Chan?’ He thought sarcastically. The car sent him a live feed from the front camera; sure enough, there it was. The cherry red Toyota 86 GTS. Right in front of his hovercraft. ‘...huh. Look at that. Well, the hovercraft doesn’t use headlights, so we’re practically invisible to her. This should be easy as long as we keep a low profile-’

---

Nyeupe’s smooth drive was interrupted by the blinding array of flashing rights that popped up next to her. Red, white, and blue; all accompanied by an ear-molesting siren and the loud echo of an AI generated demand. “Pull over! You are under arrest!”

Instinctively, Nyeupe screamed at the top of her lungs, and stepped on the gas.

---

621 sighed and rests the side of his head on a fist. ‘Fucking Joe AI…’

Without waiting for an order, the floating block zooms downhill towards the alien driver.

A handful of seconds had passed before they came up on a thick rightward turn. As expected, Rabbit Chan did not slow down. Her car tilts inwards towards the mountain, and grips onto the road for tire screeching life.

The hovercraft, however, did not have to worry about the limitations of the road as much. It still had to slow down a bit in advance to avoid going down the steep hill that neighbored the road to the right, but catching up to the old car was no problem once the straight path revealed itself once more. Just a bit more, and their bumpers would meet.

‘Looks like this is a bad road to chase her on.’ Thought 621.

Immediately after this short stretch was a series of tight curves that roughly formed the shape of a W. In went the old car, drifting into the first corner without much loss to its speed.

Its majestic display widened 621’s eyes just a tad; seeing the car’s body sway to the drift was…

...interesting.

The hovercraft, once more, had to slow down way in advance before it tried to turn.

‘I can catch her on the straightways no problem, but lacking friction is really biting me in the ass right now. My hovercraft has to start slowing down way in advance compared to her old junker.’

When he did turn the corner, the 86 was already half-way towards the second tight corner. She vanished into it quickly; much to 621’s building frustration.

‘What’s with this thing? It shouldn’t be losing.’ Hearing her tires screech on the second corner forced his hands to grip at his white cloth seats desperately. ‘What are you doing? Go as fast as you can!’

The speakers respond with Joe Swanson’s voice. “This hovercraft was not made to match the 86’s current speed! If we try to force it-”

“I don’t care!” He screams, slamming his fist on the arm rest. “Go! Now!” He commanded vocally. ‘What’s going on with me? Why am I getting so angry?’

The third corner was too close for the craft to truly stretch its legs. Consequently, Rabbit Chan drifted slightly more ahead.

But they were done with the W of close, sharp corners. They came up on wide curves that encouraged the 86 to drift; and consequently, to slow down ever so slightly.

This gave the now loudly humming hovercraft the time it needed to turn the corner, and rush at her at a frightening speed.

She needed to slow down and drift for these wider turns, but the autonomous driver did not.

---

‘Shit!’ Rabbit Chan thought in her native tongue as the block bumped into her rear bumper. Fortunately, not while she was drifting.

Yet, as nervous as she was, she could feel her heart pounding with crazy thrill.

‘You’re not getting me that easily!’

If there was something her species was known for back on her planet, it was running.

She may have been hindered by her large floppy ears on a foot race, but they meant nothing to the heavy machine she was commanding to drift on the upcoming sharp left.

Just like before, the craft vanished from her rear view mirror. The only difference was that it was taking slightly longer to round the corner this time around.

‘It’s definitely faster than before, but I guess it comes at the cost of corner speed.’

This new W curve was wider than the other, but there was little room for speeding up before you had to drift rightward again.

And left again in quick succession.

---

By the time 621 got to the long stretch of road at the end of the W, Rabbit Chan was already drifting her next right.

“God dammit I told you go to as fast as you can!”

But the screaming AI didn’t care. “I am going as fast as I can! It’s not my fault there’s so many damn curves!” The hum of the craft intensified as it picked up the pace once more.

Having to slow down way in advance to compensate for the lack of ground friction was really starting to get on his nerves.

He did quickly zoom to the next corner just in time to see the 86 drift leftward once more, however.

And once he got there, all he saw was her headlights shining through the trees blocking the sight beyond the next rightward curve.

And up next? Yet another left curve right there.

621 couldn’t help but groan. “Why are there so many damn curves on this road!”

---

‘It’s been three corners since I last saw him,’ thought Rabbit Chan. ‘Did he give up?’

But just as her tires screech at her next rightward drift, she saw the flashing array of colorful lights pop up all the way back in the previous corner. Fortunately, it was at the end of a relatively long stretch of straight road, which told her that she was gaining ground.

---

Never had 621 felt so useless.

There she was; controlling the old car like it was an extension of herself. She’d clearly taken the time to learn the road.

By comparison, all he was doing was sitting around doing nothing; the outcome of the whole thing out of his hands.

Was he really this much of a paperweight?

Thinking back, AI did practically all of his complex work. All he had to do was ask, and boom. He got it.

But not this time.

It was a common sentiment nowadays to not pour any effort into honing any skill. If AI could do it better than you ever could, what was the point?

But, for the first time in his life, his eyes were beginning to see more than just digital squares and lines.

Seeing Rabbit Chan’s tires dominate the next left turn with screeching ferocity made him feel something inside.

Something new.

Some kind of longing that he couldn’t describe.

Just how did she learn to do this? To tilt the car in such a way that doesn’t send her flying off the side of the mountain road that had no guardrail?

The tiniest mistake; the smallest obstacle on the road; and she was dead.

But that didn’t seem to matter to her.

She had no brain implant; no HUD to notify her of upcoming danger. Yet, she charged forward with blind faith.

...no, she was calculating everything in her head intuitively. Something 621 had been conditioned to never do after severe dependence on the AI.

He felt comfort in the digital yellow line that seemed to follow the downhill road; it told him the ideal path to take that would ensure his victory.

Yet, in this race, he’s constantly seeing it move around and re-adjust; something he’s never seen before.

And there it goes again; re-adjusting after her next rightward drift.

He grunts in his impatience. “Screw the line! We don’t need to follow the road when we can float!”

But the AI disagreed. “I cannot go against my programming, wise guy! If I’m told to follow the line, I’m gonna follow the damn line!”

“You are MY hovercraft! I own you! And as your owner, I command you to go down the mountain, and cut her off!”

“You might want to read your End User License Agreement again, bud.”

On his HUD, a wall of text popped up that blocked most of everything.

“Wh- just give me the summary!”

“That is the summary!”

This ‘summary’ had a scroll bar to the right that looked like a dot. He knew that if he tried to read it, it would take him tens of thousands of races just to get to the end.

“Then give me the relevant info! I’m not reading any of this!”

“Long story short, you don’t own anything, pal. You’re leasing this from Tesla Incorporated. And, as my true owners, they command me to follow the god damn line!”

A superfluous surge of fury explodes from the screaming Agent 621; he can’t help but grip at his long, white hair out of frustration.

His irate emerald eyes once more snapped to the car that was quickly approaching the tightest hairpin on this road. There was nothing he could do as the hovercraft once more began to slow its advance in preparation for a turn while the red car seemed to keep going, and going.

‘What is she doing?’ He thought. ‘The rightward hairpin is deceptively close after this small left. If she doesn’t start slowing down, she’s roadkill.”

Sure enough, after her car had entered the gentle left, her tires screech bloody murder as the 86 threatens to drift away from the rightward hairpin due to the sudden braking. She seems to try to correct herself by changing to a rightward drift, but it appears to have been too much. Her car turned, and turned, until her front bumper faced the white block in pursuit.

Agent 621 was certain that this was the end for her. She was dead. If his HUD was accurate, the 86 would continue its screeching spin until all that would remain was a crumpled up metallic coffin etched between several trees.

---

But Rabbit Chan didn’t seem that concerned. Her gentle white hand waltzes with the shift knob once her car had reached six o’clock in its spin.

It may have seemed like she lost control, but the continued spin of her 86 was controlled. Just shy of entering the hairpin’s curve, her car’s spin slows to follow the inner edge of the road.

---

It was a view that left Agent 621 with a mouth wider than his eyes. ‘What the fuck!?’

That was no loss of control. She’d just spun her car 360 degrees into the hairpin drift. In doing so, she was able to lose just enough speed to turn the corner perfectly.

It was reckless!

Unnecessary!

But…

‘That was so fucking cool!’

Unlike Joe AI. “Hey, I’m gonna have to stop the pursuit. The Fusion Engine is starting to run too hot.”

“What?” A frown formed on Agent 621’s face. “No! We can’t stop now! There’s fewer curves after the hairpin!”

“Sorry, sir, but I warned you before.” The hum of the cube starts to gently decrease in pitch until it, like the cube itself, has ceased. “This hovercraft was not built to go this fast. They severely overheat when you try to force it.”

He groaned. “Dammit!”

His body was screaming at him to continue the pursuit, but he knew that there was nothing he could do.

And that infuriated him greatly.

Much so; that for the first time in a while, and perhaps in his life, he could feel the noose of dissatisfaction wrapping tighter and tighter around his neck with every beat from his thrilled heart.

There he sat; a rock with a machine that didn’t do what he told it to. Meanwhile, the furred interloper was getting further and further away without issue.

It was a benefit of having total control over her machine, he supposed.

A control that he was infuriated he didn’t have.

---

Rabbit Chan, meanwhile, sighed in relief; and slowed to a normal driving speed. Even from where she currently was, she saw that the flashing cube had stopped moving completely.

‘Thank goodness,’ she thought. ‘The tires were not great going into the chase. I’m lucky I recovered in that hairpin drift.’

It was a cool maneuver that still had her heart racing.

Or maybe it was the fact that she had just technically raced that thing. And won.

She couldn’t help but squeal in excitement.

Today’s race topped the sum of every rush she got from all previous drifting sessions combined.

Though, as excited as she was, it was followed with a feeling of melancholy. Now the government knew that she used this road to drift, which meant that she had to find a new location.

A place where no one knew she practiced.

And that meant that she would have no one to race. Again.

Add onto the fact that her friend was going to tear her a new one for this. How was she going to convince him that she truly was being chased?

---

On the TV back at her living quarters, footage from the hovercraft’s front bumper replayed Rabbit Chan’s little display of skill; the 360 drift into the tightest hairpin curve of the road. It paused just before her face was able to vanish under the cliff beyond the view of the camera.

“They call her Rabbit Chan,” said a female voice on the news broadcast. “Popular for her sexually suggestive livestreams, it appears that the alien creature has a new hobby: street racing.” A map pops up on the screen; the same one with a blue dot featured in Agent 621’s HUD hours ago. “Police were able to narrow down her location to highway 2010. If you spot her, you are advised to report her location to the authorities. Do not try to engage with the creature; assume she is armed and dangerous.”

And, in what was clearly AI, the screen transitioned to a dark photo of a distant Rabbit Chan silhouette in the forest with eyes that were completely eclipsed by a bright shining light. A photo meant to elicit fear.

Ezra, her human friend, switched the television off with the black remote in his hands. He said nothing; just looked at her.

Nyeupe’s heart was beating like crazy; every thump tightening the anxious noose around her neck that made it difficult to speak. But, she croaked nonetheless. “Ezra-”

He raised a palm. “Before you continue, you should know. I’m not mad.”

Though she had no eyebrows, she raised one of those patches of fur in confusion. “...you’re not?”

He shook his head. “No. You had to do what you could to get away. I get that.”

She sighed in relief, and placed both hands on one of his knees. “Oh thank goodness you understand! I promise that I didn’t lure him there, or anything!”

“Nyeupe.”

“He caught me by surprise!”

“Nyeupe…”

“I was just going to drive to your location normally, I promise-”

“Nyeupe!” He grips her shoulders. “Relax! I already told you I’m not mad!”

But a look of hesitancy saturated her face. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

He releases her, and sighs. “Alright, I guess I took issue with that last stunt you pulled. It could’ve cost you your life.”

“I know.” She tapped her fingers together. “But I only did it because my car was threatening to drift in the opposite direction.”

“Yeah, I could tell that you lost control. It’s why I don’t want you doing this anymore.” He looked at her seriously. “If I lose you, I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Hey.” She rests her head against his arm, and embraces him with both arms. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

A hug that he returns; albeit tightly. “You better not.”

“And the same goes for you.” She looks up at him with those soft pink eyes of hers. “I’ve heard all about your adventures in my land. Don’t you go and get yourself killed out there.”

“You know I can’t promise that. At least not after we finish phase one. Besides, it’s highly likely that I’ll die before we get to the final phase.”

“Well,” she says, resting her hands on the couch. “If you’re gonna die anyway, then you might as well die doing cool things. Like-”

“I am not getting back in that car with you.”

“Aw, c’mon!” She leans towards him, and looks up irately. “You can’t tell me that hairpin drift wasn’t cool!”

Ezra rolled his eyes. “Alright, it was cool. I’ll give you that.” But he spoke up before the happy bun was able to get another word out. “But that doesn’t mean that I want you to keep drifting!”

“Not even on wide curves?”

“Not even in an empty parking lot.”

“What!? Now you’re just being mean…”

---

During her next livestream, things seemed a bit...different. Nyeupe sat on that black couch of hers, as she usually did, but the next donation she got elicits a look of surprise.

The seductive text-to-speech voice spoke up. “Rabbit Chan Feet pee ell zee has donated one-hundred dollars! The cutie says: holy shit that drift was insane. Where did you learn to do that?”

“W-wow! One hundred dollars?” She had to lean into the camera for that one. But, she quickly reeled it back in, and clasped her hands together. “Uh...thank you so much, sweetie! I uhh have a lot of free time when I’m not streaming.” Her pink eyes looked at Ezra behind the camera for a bit before snapping back to the feed. She taps her index fingers together repeatedly while giving the viewers puppy dog eyes. “As y’all saw, the meanies in your government tried to take me for who knows what. I was…” And out formed the beginnings of tears. “I was so scared!”

The chat was going crazy once more; moreso than during her breast display one stream prior.

{Those assholes!} Read one comment.

{Glowies trying to not make life miserable challenge (impossible)}, read another.

Yes, one after the other; message after message; sympathetic with his alien sister with hints of government frustration.

---

Everyone was watching her display of sadness.

Even those like 621 who didn’t buy it. Not even for one second.

“All I wanted to do was have some fun, you know?” Said the streaming rabbit from the break room TV. “What did I do to make them hate me so much?”

‘Are you okay, 621?’ Echoed a female voice in his head.

He snapped out of his trance, blinking rapidly. ‘What? Huh?’ He looked around the break room until he saw the only other person there.

‘Agent 926,’ he thought, eyeing the woman with wine red hair that turned white at the tips. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’

926’s eyes flicked back and forth between the screen, and 621. ‘Since when do you like watching that disgusting fulfillment of the male fantasy?’

‘I don’t,’ he thought. ‘I don’t even know why I put this on. Just looking at her makes me feel angry.’

‘Yeah, I can tell.’ She crossed her arms. ‘You’re never...well, anything; let alone angry. What happened yesterday?’

The 360 drift played in his mind once more; there was something about its screeching escape, and the nonconsentual halt of his cube, that lit a fire in his eyes.

‘It’s not about what happened,’ he thought. ‘It’s about what I couldn’t make happen.’

926 leans back against the wall and crosses her arms. ‘Elaborate.’

‘I was nothing more than a spectator for the entirety of that chase. Every twist, turn, and even the decision to stop was not mine to make. But her, meanwhile,’ he thinks, looking at the screen. ‘She was in charge last night. The exact path down she took, the choice of when to stop, and turn, and even that spinning move; it was all her.’ His hands clench into fists. ‘I guess I’m frustrated because I feel like I could’ve beaten her if the AI would’ve listened to me instead of the built-in regulations it had to follow.’

‘Beaten?’ Thought 936. ‘You mean, like, being a racer?’

‘Gotten. I could’ve gotten her. Sorry,’ he corrected. ‘I don’t know why I said beaten.’

‘Okay,’ she thinks, nodding, ‘because I was about to say...like, we have dedicated hovercrafts for that, that would wipe the floor with her. There’s no point in trying to become a racer because of that.’

‘Yeah, I know,’ he thought. ‘But it’s odd.’

‘What is?’

‘Despite never being able to beat the dedicated racing hovercrafts, there’s still a part of me that became interested in how those old cars move.’ The 360 drift captured his mind once more. ‘There was something about seeing that car move in person that was...amazing.’

When he looked back to his colleague, she wore concern on her light blue eyes. ‘Okay, now you’re starting to scare me, 621.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘What? Why’

‘What do you mean why? Ever since I first saw you, you’ve always been like…’ she waved a hand in front of her concerned face once. After doing so, an emotionless expression had taken over. ‘I don’t care. That’s boring. Beep boop.’

‘Beep boop?’

‘Yeah,’ she grinned. ‘You always act like everything around you is boring.’

‘I mean, you’re not entirely wrong…’

She blinked rapidly. ‘Do I bore you?’

‘That question is a trap, and you know it.’

She smiled. ‘Only if you answer n __o.’ She leans in. ‘_ Seriously though, i_t’s okay. You can tell me,’ 926 thought. ‘I bore you, don’t I?’

‘Maybe a little,’ 621 thought back. ‘but it’s nothing against you. It’s just how I’ve always been with everything. At least, until…’

‘...the chase?’

‘Yeah…’ he nods. ‘Now, everything seems all the more dull.’

‘Maybe you should talk to the AI therapist about this. It sounds like something that could easily get worse.’

But he shook his head. ‘That shit has never worked. Besides, I’m tired of sitting through ads despite paying a monthly fee.’

‘Then…’ She took a few steps forward. ‘...maybe you need to talk to something a little more...human.’ Her light blue eyes locked onto Josh’s emerald peepers, but not for long. 621’s eyes snapped back to the screen.

‘I appreciate the offer, but I have something else in mind.’

A red dot appeared on 926’s forehead; a laser that led back to a little camera-sized wall-mounted machine gun.

Looking right at it, 621 saw his HUD label the contraption: CONSENTURRET. STATE: ACTIVE.

Neither human so much as flinched at the new development. No, 926 also looked at the screen; albeit with hints of disappointment in her eyes and voice. ‘Oh...okay…’

The red dot vanished immediately.

‘It’s hard to describe exactly what I’m feeling. It’s like...my body is gnawing at me to get her. If that makes sense.’

‘That’s called motivation, 621.’

‘Motivation, huh?’ His eyes did not remove the sexualized rabbit from their sight. ‘I don’t like it.’

The way he was looking at Rabbit Chan elicits jealousy within 926. Unlike the bored emerald gaze she got, the alien creature received the fiery passion of a man that wanted to see her again.

Not for friendly reasons, if the competition in his eyes was any indicator, but it was still more than 926 had ever gotten in all the time she’s known 621.

‘Me neither,’ 926 thought, narrowing her gaze when she once more looked over at the smiling anthropomorphic rabbit.

‘Then I guess I’ve made up my mind.’ 621 crossed his arms. ‘If I’m going to get her, I need to fight fire with fire.’

‘What? You mean with another outdated piece of junk? That almost sounds like you just want to race her.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ 621 thought. ‘The instant she’s captured, I’ll lose interest.’

‘Somehow I doubt that.’

‘Doubt all you want,’ he thought, walking towards the exit of the break room. ‘I have some vehicle research to do. AI, pull up all racing data from 1980 to 2050.’