Armistice
Firefox2 has a built-in spell check? Nifty! Notepad can stay as my weapon of choice for writing. :)
Enjoy the story.
Armistice
The army walked silently over the wasteland, climbing and descending the shallow dunes toward their destination. Conversation had ended long ago; the burden of their task growing ever heavier upon their minds. War; nothing good had ever come of it.
Power all but depleted, the parched earth barely shielded those few souls with the heart to call it home. This battle was to be the battle to end all war. The hatred wouldn't end; beliefs were too strong. There simply wouldn't be enough of either race to fight. The brittle treaty between the two bitter races had crumbled, leaving behind it all hopes of living in harmony.
The world is ending, the army thought as one. It is only a matter of time.
-
Meya shifted within her uniform, adjusting the small device on her temple into a more comfortable position. A thinking device; equipped on every soldier. It allowed the army to be as one, knowing what each was thinking, seeing, planning, powered only by the small electronic pulses within the mind. The bear in front of her smiled weakly, shouldering his rifle; the emotionless stare forward returning to his hard features. A gun, thought Meya. One of the few with enough ammunition to inflict serious damage. She doubted the human army had even half the number they wielded, leaving them with less than five. It wouldn't matter anyway; they would all die today.
The quickening pulses of a hundred thousand anthros quietly thumped within Meya's mind as they stepped to the top of another dune. A quarter mile away stood the human army, matching their own in numbers. Thoughts of family, life, anxiety washed over her consciousness, sent by the thousands of soldiers standing beside her. Few were excited; all were prepared.
Minutes passed until one leg gingerly moved past the front line, the dusty paw printing it's mark into the dry soil; a single male lupine starting what would be the end for them all. Thoughts of hatred, then resignation passed through the army, sparking more to walk toward their foreboding fate. The human army mirrored their movements, slowly marching forward. The march turned into a slow trot, then a jog, and soon both forces were at a full sprint toward the other, creating a cloud of dust rivaling the greatest of storms.
Meya's swords rang from her scabbards, the surfaces reflecting that of her own lithe features. This doesn't have to happen, the cheetah thought to herself, readying her weapons. The mental agreement of thousands echoed through her mind as the two armies crashed into each other, the front lines folding under like cardboard. Clouds of dust from both directions closed upon the battle like two rolling oceans, covering the area in a blinding white.
Meya found herself tiring quickly. With every human she would drop, another would find it's way through the dust into her path. Although brought up to hate humans, Meya couldn't help but feel sorry for each one she would so mercilessly slay. They had families, love lives, jobs, just like any other. She stayed low, blocking the attacks thrown at her and countering where necessary. Many of the humans bore swords not unlike her own; slightly curved and double-edged. Few carried advanced weaponry; there weren't enough resources left. Meya blocked an attack from above, her sword ringing against that of a dark skinned human standing at eye level with her. His reddened dry eyes held an almost ... apologetic look, mirroring her own. Behind you! rang a thought through her head. I can't! she thought back, seeing the approaching threat through her comrade's eyes. The human looked behind her, then did something she would have never imagined - he turned, looking for another target.
Meya swung around knowing exactly where her swords needed to be. She held her left blade close to her body, blocking the swing aimed to her abdomen. Her own sword was forced back, cutting past spotted, yellow fur into her hide, leaving a long shallow wound under her breast. Her second sword, aimed at decapitating him, was blocked easily by his own. Bringing the blade down, she cut through his arm. The bloody hand dropped to the ground still clutching the sword within a white-knuckled grasp. She swung a sword within her hand, blocking the slice to her neck and bringing her paw up for a kick to the stomach. The kick sent him flying several yards, the digitigrade feet breaking several ribs and leaving four large puncture wounds in his black uniform where claws impacted. The stump that used to be his wrist sprayed blood into the soft soil below.
Meya roared through clenched fangs, small bits of hot metal slicing into her back. A gun. They were built to spray metal at their target, effectively turning them into a thick mush. Flying shrapnel was common and impossible to control, frequently hitting friendlies. Even the small amount she was hit with would cause massive blood loss. Meya fell to her knees in pain, holding her back and dropping her swords. They were useless - she would die anyway; they all would. Falling to her side, she watched through half-lidded eyes the feet of soldiers from under the dust. Bodies fell into her vision, hitting the flattened soil limply. Soldiers of the once-proud anthro army slowly blinked out of her mind as they fell dead to the unforgiving earth. A dusty body fell in front of her, spraying blood from it's chest onto hers. A gun dropped, sticking half-way into the dirt - the bear from earlier. He smiled that weak familiar smile at her once more before closing his eyes to die. It's over, pushed it's way into her mind - his last thought. Tears fell from her red, dry eyes into the wasteland beneath. She pulled herself closer to him and huddled into his blood-stained fur, sobbing into his shoulder. It's over, she repeated.
Jake's eyes cracked open, allowing particles of dust to float in and antagonize them. I'm ... alive? he remembered his legs being taken out from under him, his head hitting the chest guard of a dead soldier. My legs ... he thought, quickly moving his hands to check them. Still there. A thick layer of dust slid off his uniform as he stood up on wobbly limbs and tight muscles. He put a hand to his head, searching for his thinking device. Must have been knocked off, he thought, searching through the dust. Giving up, he reluctantly plucked one from the dirty, bloody corpse of a comrade, pressing it to the headband-like apparatus on his head. Silence. Every last member of the human army - dead. The thought didn't seem to make him sad - it should have. He had lost close friends. Even the thought of anyone, human or anthro, dying for nothing should have made him at least a little sad - he was indifferent. Jake walked among the bodies of those he once stood beside and those he was ordered to kill, foraging what he could of food and water from their packs. It would be a long trip back home.
Satisfied, Jake began to walk south-east, stopping when curiosity struck. He grabbed the thinking device of an anthro soldier, clicking his own out and snapping the soldier's in place. A life. One life. Jake walked toward the mind, stepping over the bodies of friend and so-called foe as he went. Peering through the faint dust cloud, he gasped at what he saw, inhaling a small amount of dust, throwing him into a coughing fit. The cheetah from earlier; the one he had exchanged glances with. She was covered in blood, huddled close to a bear. The fur below her eyes was clean; tears had washed away most of the dust and blood. She slept in an awkward position, subconsciously avoiding any contact with her back. The fur there was fused together in a mixture of blood and dirt. It looked as thought that alone had stopped the blood flow like a giant scab. She was quite alive; her only ailment being medium blood loss. She would die slowly and painfully if he left her there; he couldn't let that happen. He carefully pulled the cheetah onto his back, lifting her to his shoulders. He paused, realizing they would kill her at home. The closest refuge from the sun was the forest a short distance to the north. With that, he stepped over the bloodied bear, beginning his trip.
Jake arrived at the forest several hours later. The towering wall of dead trees loomed above him, cutting a line across the barren wasteland like scissors on paper. Death had not consumed all, however, and behind those dead trees began a lush forest where the few living species left took sanctuary. Jake walked into this haven and fell to his knees, gasping for air. The dusty landscape had impeded his progress greatly; the extra weight from the cheetah caused his steps to sink further into the ground. The cheetah was gently set onto the soft pine needles, her breathing normal and uniform. Jake retrieved one of the canteens of water from his pack, drinking deeply. The water was warm, but pure. He set it onto a mossy stone beside the cheetah and walked a short distance to an old oak. Making a crude bed of pine needles and leaves, he lay down and ate, staring into the branches of the oak above him. It's branches twisted in seemingly random directions into the canopy, reminding him of beauty described only in storybooks. I could live out here? he thought questioningly, as if asking for permission. As if by answer, a cool breeze exited the forest, rustling his dirty brown hair.
Meya opened her eyes, shifting upon the cushy ground below. The afterlife? she thought, sitting up. The pain in her back made itself known immediately. With every movement, her fur would pull upon the wounds on her back. I'm alive? she wondered, confusion setting in. She remembered seeing her comrades being slain, her friends falling, the minds and thoughts of both humans and anthros blinking out of existence, losing their lives over a decision not of their choice. She remembered the weak smile of that bear. It wasn't a smile of happiness, it was a smile of relief. Relief from having to fight against an enemy who believed the same as they; that death was not the answer. Meya wept.
Within her mind she felt life. Looking toward the source, a human was tucked against a tree on a bed of pine needles. He slept peacefully with a look of contentment on his filthy face. The human from the battle.. she realized, blinking the tears from her eyes. His skin was a bit more pale than most humans. He looked strong from hard work and stood at her height; five foot ten. She found a water canteen at her waist. Quickly grabbing the container and unscrewing the top, Meya poured the contents into her muzzle gratefully. The feeling of the water pulling dust with it forced her into a coughing fit, painfully pulling at the wounds on her back and chest. "Shit," she grumbled aloud, "I haven't felt this bad since first day of training," gently rubbing her sore legs in an effort to remember.
Moving was painful to the cheetah, so building shelter was out of the question. She resigned herself to waiting for the human to wake up. During this time, thoughts of battle tortured her mind. They all knew exactly how it was going to happen. The two forces would fight, die, and nothing would come of it. Help would probably never be sent; not even a clean-up team. They all knew. But it was an order, she thought sarcastically. I bet the people who gave that order are laughing over a glass of hundred year old fine wine, too. Easier to tell someone else to die for your cause than to do it yourself.
Meya heard movement. The human was waking up. What could she say? Could she just forget an entire lifetime of teaching that they're absolute evil? She always knew it wasn't entirely true, and that there were a few humans who would have loved to live in peace. But what does one say to someone they were prepared to kill not twenty-four hours earlier?
"You could say thank you," he replied groggily, hearing her thoughts. She blinked at him in confusion. "What?" she replied. He simply tapped his headband a couple times as if teaching a child where sunglasses go. He had an anthro headband on. She was told they didn't work on humans! "I tried it out of curiosity," he answered. "Stop that!" She took her headband off and threw it at a tree. He laughed.
Jake and Meya arrived at a slow moving stream. The soil around it was dark and full of life; small green reeds peppered it's surface. Jake offered to help Meya into the waters, gesturing expansively with a grin on his face. Her fur was still fused together in a mess of dried blood and dirt. Clothed in her undergarments, she accepted the hand with rolled eyes and dipped into the water, letting the slow stream slowly work it's cool waters into the fur of her lower back. Minutes passed before the mess began to soften, allowing her to nearly painlessly clean the area. Dipping lower into the water, she would repeat the procedure until the entirety of her fur was soft.
Jake didn't even try to deny that he enjoyed watching her, despite the situation. The thought never before crossed his mind that an anthro could be sexy, but there she was, her lithe body wavering under the slow waters. Her paws were what interested him the most. The digitigrade feet looked so cute while staying very dangerous. They weren't exactly feet, in the human sense, but more like extensions of her legs; her toes supporting the bulk of the weight while walking. If she were to wear shoes, they would be more like boots, dropping down off the foot rather than sliding from the front. Her legs were extremely well-muscled. They seemed to be a mix between human legs and those of a feral cheetah. Jake doubted they would be able to bend very far to the side, but suspected she could kick an apple from the top of her own head. The tail, while normally swaying in the air, was being gently pulled along with the current of the stream. The spots along the length were longer than those on her body, wrapping around and giving the appearance of stripes. Nice ass, he thought with a chuckle, quietly reveling in her inability to hear his thoughts. Her hips were wide, bowing into a perfect hourglass along her sides, meeting at her shapely breasts. Definitely female.
His thoughts drifted back to the battle. He wanted to mourn. To weep for all those that died in vain. To at least feel sorrow.
-
"If you're going to stare, you may as well help." Meya insisted, shattering Jake's concentration. He blushed deeply and averted his gaze downstream. "Well?" She turned her back to him and waited, rolling her eyes. There were parts of her back where she couldn't reach, so this human was her only painless choice. Even if he constantly stared as though she were hideous. Within her own kind, most found her very attractive. A bit too attractive, she thought, memories of old boyfriends coming to surface. Jake stepped into the water, his hands slowly rubbing her back. They were rough from hard work, but gentle and caring. After a time, Meya felt her fur pulling smoothly along his hands, free of dirt and blood. He slowly moved them to her shoulders.
"You know, I don't find you humans to be very attractive either," Meya lied. In all honesty, she thought Jake to be fairly handsome, especially for something out of her own kind. Jake paused for a moment before answering. "You think I think you're ugly?" "Why else would you--" she started, interrupting herself. "Y-You think I'm attractive?" she asked incredulously. Meya felt his hands tense up and ease off. "You're ... different," he said, avoiding the question. She leaned back into his hands. "Is different ... good?" she prodded with a grin on her muzzle. He found her attractive after all. A human was attracted to an anthro. These so-called evil, fur less, spawn-of-Satan pink-skins were just like the anthros, with all their little kinks and fantasies included. "I guess in your own special way, you're kind of sort of ... exotic." he reluctantly replied. She leaned further back, the sly grin playing further across her muzzle. This was fun. "Mmmm; is exotic ... good?"
-
Jake's head was swimming. Was this actually happening? This can't be happening, he assured himself. But here she was, flirting like a human would, leaning into his hands with insistence that he continue his ministrations. Was it a trap? What kind of trap would that be? he chided himself. He never hated the anthros and had even fantasized about a few, but could he actually bed one? Would he forgive himself if he didn't? She was definitely attractive. "Your fur is clean," he blurted out. Her wounds - that was his out. And the war; he could feign mourning. It wouldn't be far from the truth either; faking it is better than sitting there thinking himself insane for not caring about the two-hundred-thousand-corpse-graveyard less than ten miles away.
Jake's eyes widened.
-
"Jake?" Meya asked. He hadn't moved nor made a sound for several moments. The only reason she still knew he was there was the hands on her shoulders. "Jake?" She turned around. He was just staring at her. No, not at her; more like past her as if she wasn't standing directly in front of him. "Oh my god ... you're in shock!"
Jake's breathing began to speed up. Meya had been told about this during training. Some wouldn't feel any sorrow after a war, but eventually it would all hit them like a ton of bricks. Completely normal soldiers could go utterly insane; few have even killed themselves. Talking to them was the best method known to help. All this technology, and it does nothing but create destruction, she thought. Meya had no idea what to say. Somehow she knew, "it's ok," wouldn't help here. She could only watch as his mouth turned crooked and eyes widened further as if he was going to turn to run from something in a horror movie. He began to scream. "Jake!" Meya yelled. Frantic, she did the only thing she could think of - she slapped him.
-
Jake's sword sliced through the neck of an unarmed fox. The fox let out a gurgled scream and clutched at his neck, falling to the ground into spasms. Jake was in a body that was not his own - but it was his. He had done this. The deaths of two hundred thousand weighed upon him as he relived the chaos in perfect detail. He watched helplessly as his sword split through the skull of a beautiful vixen; one he probably would have enjoyed a cup of coffee with had the two races been in peace. No! he scolded himself as he cut through the soldiers. These weren't the monsters the authorities had claimed them to be; they were thinking, breathing individuals with feelings just like humans. His body rolled under a gun blast, bringing his sword across the chest of a large black-furred bear. One who's family would never see again. Jake could see them standing before the bear's monument, crying. Noo! he screamed within his mind. His body jolted, changing directions to block the sword of a collie, the dusty long fur waving beautifully in the air. He took his second sword, shoving it into the ribcage of the gorgeous anthro. A look of pain and sorrow washed across it's face as it fell to the ground limp. Nooooo! Jake's vision went blank. When it returned, he was back in the stream.
"Jake!!" Meya pleaded, concern strewn across her face. "No!" Jake yelled, gripping grass, roots, anything his fingers could wrap around. He pulled himself from the water, crawling backward across the ground, tears flowing from his eyes. "Stay away!" he ordered. "Jake, you're safe!" Meya yelled, "Nobody is going to hurt you!" She was hoping she was on the right track. "I don't want to hurt you ... stay back ... please ... no more." He was sobbing uncontrollably, staring at the cheetah with unimaginable fear in his eyes. He was backed up against a tree, pushing into the dirt with his feet and gripping small reeds in an attempt to move further away.
Jake watched in horror as Meya padded over to him cautiously. He pushed back further into the ground as she approached. When she touched him, his body froze; muscles straining. Meya straddled his hips, pinning him to the ground. She grabbed his face, and kissed him hard. He thought he would faint; that would have been a lot better than the state of mind he was currently in. But instead of fainting, he began to relax. Soon he was kissing back; eyes closed. Eventually she broke the kiss and stared into his eyes. "If you don't want to hurt me, then don't." she calmly said as if it was there in front of him the whole time. And it was; if Jake didn't want to kill any more, he didn't have to. He would always live with the memories of screams, fear, death, but those could, and would be the last he had to experience.
Jake grabbed Meya by the shoulders softly and pulled her toward him. "I will never hurt you." he promised shakily, kissing her again. He opened his mouth a bit, running his tongue over her thin black lips, wordlessly asking for permission. Her muzzle opened, permitting entry. He ran his thick tongue over her fangs, tasting her saliva. Her tongue was rougher than a humans, but not sandpaper like a smaller cat. It was only slightly less wide than his own and probably much longer, but flat like that of a dog. She pushed her tongue into his mouth, exploring the new sensations.
"I thought humans weren't attractive," Jake said triumphantly. He could almost see the blush beneath her cheek fur. "I lied." she admitted, licking his cheek. His hands moved to her back, carefully avoiding the small cuts while undoing the clasp of her bra. He slid it off, casually tossing it to the side, revealing the furry C-Cup breasts beneath. Her pink nipples stuck out of the fur slightly; hardened from arousal and the cool waters of the stream. Jake cupped a palm under a breast, lifting it slightly and rubbing a nipple under his thumb. He looked into Meya's eyes - they were closed. Experimenting, Jake moved his hand behind her, pressing firmly on her lower back where her tail met her body. She pressed back into his hand and began to purr.
"Mmmm, don't stop.." Meya pleaded when Jake removed his hand. He ignored her, and instead cupped his hand between her legs, pushing a digit firmly against her panties. She gasped and opened her eyes in almost-anger, seeing the mischievous grin on Jake's face. A grin of her own formed on her muzzle as she stood up and padded out of his reach. She hooked her fingers along the rim of her panties and slowly, sensually pulled them down, running her fingers through her beautiful fur as she went. Jake's erection hardened fully; his gaze fixed upon her moist slit. Meya mimicked his earlier gesture, expansively waving her hand toward a soft patch of short grass further from the stream. She lay down on it, spreading her legs. He quickly slipped out of his boxer shorts and lay down in front of her, grabbing her legs and deeply inhaling her scent. He began to tease her, moving his tongue around the outside of her slit, hearing the intensity of her purrs increase the closer he came to tasting her.
Once his tongue arrived at her lips, he forced it in as deep as it would go, rubbing her clit hard from side to side. Her orgasm hit immediately, tearing a low, deep growl of pleasure from her diaphragm. Jake cupped his mouth around her pussy, catching as much of her juices as he could while forcing his tongue in and out. Meya's growls returned to soft purring as he moved up to kiss her, letting her taste her juices. She licked his face clean and wrapped her powerful legs around his hips. Meya felt wonderful against his skin. The warm, soft, damp fur softly tickled his chest and abdomen as he prepared to enter her. He positioned his member at her entrance, letting just the tip slip between her folds.
"Are you ready?" he asked softly. She pulled his hips hard with her legs, forcing six inches within her walls. "Yesss." she growled, ignoring the dull pain in her back and bucking her hips to start a rhythm. Jake got the idea and began to thrust hard within her, hilting his slippery member at seven inches. Meya moaned as Jake's balls began to slap against her rump. Thoughts of disgust at the others' looks were discarded completely as they lost themselves in the pleasure. Meya clenched her muscles tightly onto Jake's member when he took a nipple within his mouth, suckling it and nibbling softly, pushing her over the edge. Her wild purring turned to growls as she rode the waves of pleasure her human lover was giving her.
Jake couldn't hold it - Meya was too tight. Those lusty growls of pleasure were too much. His balls began their ascent to his body as they prepared to unload his essence within her. "Meya ..." he managed. "Just do it ... I want it ..." she purred. Jake released, moaning into her chest. His warm seed splashed against her walls, sending her into a smaller orgasm. Meya's legs pulled his hips hard, hilting him fully and locking them in place as his member unloaded deep within her. Their moans and growls turned to pants and a soft purr; her tunnel deliciously suckling the last of his cum from his balls.
Jake let his member slip limply from her, falling beside her. They lie there, enjoying the afterglow in each others' warm embrace and looking up to the dim hue of the evening twilight. Tomorrow they would begin their lives together; blissfully unaware of the happenings of their dying civilizations.
"I love you." "And I, you."