FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Hello, Curtis."

Curtis' eyes snapped open, immediately scanning his surroundings. He was on the bow of a boat. No, a ship. It was far too large to be a boat. The sky above was cloudless, the dusk sun casting a reddish gaze upon the world. The lithe fox sat up, slowly getting off of his back. No longer on his back, he could see the ship around him.

The walls of the ship were pristine and white, their smooth shape barely betraying the crude metal used to build it. The deck was a black hardwood, something Curtis was not even sure was allowed to be present on ships. Was he on the bow? Is that what the front of a ship was called? Curtis' naval terminology was shamefully short-handed. The waves over the bow, if that's what it was indeed called, were nonexistent. The water was still to the horizon, so still that one could have confused it for glass.

Curtis got to his feet, his bare orange fur showing through his thin white nightgown. As he came to his full height, short as that was, he began turning to see the ship around him. The ship itself seemed to go a few stories above the deck he was on, with no discernable doors or windows. Curtis began slowly walking down the length of the ship, looking for anything that could help him navigate. Stairs, doorways, bulkheads, anything that could be useful. The further and further he went down the ship, the more hopeless the search seemed. He had to have come at least halfway down the ship, the aft quickly approaching his view.

As his pace increased, Curtis became aware of the only sound being the wake of the ship. His footsteps were utterly silent. Was it always like that? No matter, he had to find something on this ship. As the ship started to sharply curve in on itself, the railing guiding him back to the center, he heard that disembodied voice again.

"We're almost there, Curtis."

He froze. Almost there? Almost where? What was this ship's heading? He slowly turned around, no longer aware of his previous search. As he turned, his vision was overloaded with a landmass impossibly close. Where did this come from? Wasn't the horizon empty just minutes earlier? The flat planes of grass of extended down the endless curvature, leaving Curtis to wonder how its appearance was possible.

With newfound vigor, he sprinted back towards the bow, nearly vaulting himself over the railing with the momentum propelling his collision. After pulling himself back down towards the solid ground, or the closest he could find, his eyes fell upon the land in front of him. As he squinted his eyes towards the approaching land, he became aware of figures standing on the ground. Some of them were clothed, some standing there, giving their bodies to the wind. Some seemed to be dressed nicely, while others had clothes in tatters. But as Curtis found himself looking into any details, the figures became blurrier and nondescript. Their faces remained blank, but their eyes were cutting through like diamonds.

As Curtis gazed upon the figures whose numbers seemingly grew every moment, he felt the darkness growing from the corners of his eyes. His limbs began growing numb, his eyes being forced into a tunnel vision. Curtis tried to turn his head, anything to break himself free of the darkness that threatened to overtake him. As he began to turn away from the land, his legs gave out, his body going limp as he fell to the deck, his head hitting it hard enough to make him see stars.

"And he's back."

Curtis' eyes snapped open, again, with a scream. No words, unintelligible, just a primal cry like a brain just re-entering the body. He jumped forward, trying to get to his feet, only to be yanked back down by shackles on his wrists. His head hit the table, hard, leaving him panting and gasping for breath.

His sweat-soaked fur forming a puddle on the table, giving the orange fur a salty clear coat. All his limbs were shackled, even his tail pinned to the side. A nondescript sleeve surrounded his index and ring fingers on his right hand, wires leaving them to trail to some unknown source.

Curtis slowly opened his eyes, immediately shutting them due to the blinding light above him. He felt a finger soothingly stroke his ear, having little effect on his panic.

"Shh.... it's okay. You're back now," Curtis squinted his eyes open, trying to find the source of the voice without opening himself to the blinding light again. A doe stood above him, her eyes staring deep into his.

"Where," Curtis attempted to speak, his voice cracked and his throat dehydrated. "Where am I?" His question was drowned out by the shushing of the doe, her quiet voice still hard on his ears, "don't worry, just let the memories come back to you."

The fox lay there, almost shivering from his sweat, struggling to process what she said. Memories, what memories? How long had he been here? Where was here? What were they doing to him? Who were they? Millions of questions threatened to overtake his mind. Curtis began to drown in them, until...

A gasp shook him and the doe standing over him. Memories began flooding through his mind. The boat, the ocean, the lab, the destination. The destination of the ship. The other side. Oh god, the faces. Why was he going there? Who put him on that boat? Thousands of run-throughs and memories came back, all culminating in one thing. The pain. The white-hot agony that he was subjected to time and time again, his screams of agony, his begging for it come to an end.

"Ahh!" More of a gasp between breaths than a word, Curtis looked directly at the doe who had stood back to his side. Her face had become a mask, seemingly uninterested in his plight. "Please," Curtis started in a pleading voice between heavy breaths, "no more. I can't take it. Not again."

The doe didn't even pause to respond, only turned to a podium alive with knobs, buttons, and lights. She began to flick switches and press buttons whose purpose was foreign to Curtis. His eyes shut and his head turned away, "Please, I can't take any more. Please, please don't." No more fight left within him, and he couldn't even bring himself to shout or raise his voice even remotely. Utterly despondent.

With his eyes shut, Curtis heard a soft sigh, before the slight press of a button. His body became awash with white fire, and he began shaking against his restraints. His eyes shot open, his back arched, his mouth open and teeth bared in a silent scream. He shuddered and struggled against a synthetic pain beyond his imagination, the past memories paling in comparison to this torture. His view became awash in white, the soft whirring of machines becoming more and more distant from his perception. Then suddenly, the world went black.

"Hello, Curtis."