FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I am at a cabin by Gulliver lake in the upper peninsula of Michigan, on what looks like overgrown property that once belonged to my grandfather. On the property is what appears to be a family of stereotypical rednecks, complete with long, scraggly bears and stringy hair. Somewhat confused that they are on property that I feel I have more right to than they, I cautiously approach. They all soon depart into the woods, carrying an analog tape recorder, speaker and a car battery. A third man also carries a sack over his shoulder that appears to be moving from more than just his walking.

Unsure of what they're doing, I creep into their house. Inside, it looks to be a carefully constructed mixture of the original cabin interior from "The Evil Dead" and the cabin from "Tucker & Dale Vs. Evil". No sooner than I enter does night fall upon the structure. Closing the door, I wonder what their house is doing here; I don't remember it from previous visits, though it was many years ago. Searching through the house, I turn and see the oldest member of the family at the far end of a hall, holding a single-shot, 20-gauge shotgun near his hip. Looking to me, he grins to reveal several missing teeth.

"Hee hee, I didn't know we had company!" He exclaims.

He turns and darts off, disappearing into a room. Confused, I turn to leave. Opening the door, I see in the night, which is well illuminated by a full moon. A werewolf that looks like a Howler from the eponymous werewolf movies (The Howling) stands in front of the door, looming over me. Cocking his head, it reaches out a hand. I slam the door closed and it pounds on the barrier, imitating a scene from "The Evil Dead" as well as "The Army Of Darkness" windmill scene. After the pounding stops, there's a silence. I wait for a moment, only to hear a faint and steady tapping.

"Ahem... Pardon me sir, but could you spare a cup of your soul?" A male voice politely asks.

"Wha... I can't spare that!" I reply through the door, my back still against it and holding it closed.

"Are you sure? Even just a pinch of soul?" The voice asks so politely.

"Seriously?!" I bark.

Finding a latch, I lock the door and shutter the windows. For some reason there are inside shutters, installed backwards. Taking a glance outside, I don't see anything besides an empty porch. I lock the house tightly and wander around. The old man from earlier is nowhere to be found. I find a backpack of camping gear, so I collect it for no apparent reason. For some reason I felt like I needed it.

Returning to the front door, I hesitantly open it, prepared to dive out of the way should a creature be standing there. Instead, I find absolutely nothing. Outside, it's daylight once again, as if a full 12 hours had passed. I exit the house. Walking around the front yard and looking at the lake, I am suddenly reminded that I'm trespassing by a car door closing. Sneaking to the corner of the house, I see the three rednecks pulling out more moving sacks from the bed of a beat up, medium-blue Chevy pickup truck from the 1980s.

I walk toward a shed, passing their view but when they aren't actively looking at me. They walk between the house and shed, not noticing me. A tree branch snags my shirt, so for some reason I just take it off, but I put the backpack back on. Thinking I might need some camouflage, I smear mud on my torso. Running toward a tree in a relatively empty yard, I dive behind the tree, the huge backpack shifting and the contents clanging away.

A younger redneck walks by with the same shotgun in hand as I lie on my belly behind the tree. He turns and looks, then waves politely. I am then reminded that the backpack is not naturally colored and sticks out like a sore thumb. Suddenly, I hear a voice.

"Pardon me sir... About that soul?"

Turning my head sharply, there stands the Howler. He waves his fingers to me, as if showing off the long, razor-sharp claws.

"I'm busy man. I can't help you right now." I reply in aggrivation.

"Are you sure? You don't look busy" The werewolf says.

"I'm escaping evil rednecks, alright." I growl.

"Oh... But they can see you." The werewolf says.

"He's right, I can see you." The young redneck says with a thick southern drawl, standing right in front of me.

Getting up from the ground, I sigh and rests my hands near my hips, my head tilted down.

"Look, this isn't as fun as I thought it would be. I'm gonna go." I say.

"You sure you don't want some Cola or somethin'?" The redneck asks.

"No, thanks." I reply, walking back to the road.

"Um, about that soul?!" The werewolf persists.

"Ask one of the neighbors!" I bark back.

"Okay... Can you spare some soul?" The werewolf promptly asks the redneck.

"Why sure! I'm not using her anyway." He replies, before laughing hysterically.

Standing beside the road, I begin to hitch-hike. A car passes without stopping, frustrating me, and then I wake up.

Self-analysis: *shrugs* A few days earlier my band and I had watched some Seether videos and I was quite taken by "Betray And Degrade", but other then that...