FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*Chapter 1 *

"I don't think I did anything wrong"

"Five dollars for this?" Bridge questions, holding up a tiny crystal statue of an ancient deity. "Is this the right price?"

The exhausted mouse nods, exhaling heavily. "Yeah, it's labelled correctly. You don't have to buy it," she comments politely.

Bridge sighs, "I'll get it. Just seems like a lot."

The cougar takes out his wallet, handing the other mammal his last five dollar bill. These garage sales are doing him in but at least they take up time.

"Thank you. Have a good day sir," The female fur cordially remarks, taking the money. She turns to the other customers in her parking lot.

Bridge simply gives a head bob, walking away. He places the statue in his hoodie's middle pocket. It's not his fault though. He would have less free time if he actually had a job or more homework, or even both. Majoring in English doesn't do that for him.

He strolls down the steamy sidewalk, wiping some sweat from his forehead. The air is thick and humid this morning but there's a sudden, comforting breeze that follows, swaying his short fur majestically. Bridge doesn't mind, of course. It's a pleasant, calming wind.

After walking for about ten minutes, Bridge crosses Velt Lane and heads into his neighborhood. He approaches an inconsequential, one-story house. It's a standard living space with a deep, dark blue paint covering its outer walls. There's the front entrance on the left, a driveway for four cars on the right, and an automatic garage nearby. No one uses the garage though. The vehicles owned are out front: a red truck, a grey convertible and an average black car.

The cougar casually approaches the door. He turns the warm doorknob and walks in. The strong stench of fast food and dirty dishes hits his nose, causing him to step back. Right, he's supposed to clean today. He wishes his roommates would let him know. Sure, he forgets sometimes and it's his responsibility, but a reminder would be helpful. Maybe he'll talk to them about it. The feline only takes one look at the kitchen before groaning. Its small size is practically overwhelmed by those dishes, ranging from seemingly sterile silverware to stained and smelly bowls.

Bridge turns to his right and into a compact hallway which holds three bedrooms and one bathroom. He walks inside the first bedroom to his right. Though it's the smallest of the three, his room still manages to hold all of his posters, games, clothes, and garage sale junk. Yeah, it's junk but it's _his _junk. The statue is no different. It joins a few outdated toys and a pedometer on the top of the nightstand.

The cougar leaves to go wash his paws in the restroom and then makes his way to the kitchen. His ears twitch and he lets out a knowing exhale when he hears a door open, undoubtedly coming from behind him and to the right.

"Second visit this week?" Rowlen starts, walking out of his bedroom. The dark gray fox wears a loose white tee and some pajama pants. Bridge shrugs in response, not really wanting to answer. "You know, you'd be better off buying stock, or even studying."

Bridge slowly turns around, facing the smaller mammal. Rowlen leans against the wall, giving a challenging smirk. This dude...

"Thanks for your stellar commentary," the cougar replies blandly. He turns back around and gets started on the dishes. Rowlen emits a small laugh, getting off the wall.

"I'm just reminding you that you're wasting your money," Rowlen states as he pats Bridge's shoulder on the way to the fridge. Bridge uses his paw to brush off the fox's paw, not wanting his condescending comfort. Rowlen takes out a personalized metal container, patterned with stripes and dots.

The vulpine strolls to his room and adds before opening the door, "You'd learn a lot by actually living your life."

The door closes softly.

What a fuckhead. Bridge breathes out and starts putting up clean dishes. He knows Rowlen is right. He is living his life though, isn't he? Fuckhead. He opens a cabinet. Bitch. He sets a cup in the cabinet while his tail powers on recklessly.

---

Rowlen

Rowlen rolls over in his bed and sits up. He reaches for his phone that rests on his nightstand but he ends up dropping it.

"Shit."

He scurries for it and takes it off the floor. It's cracked diagonally, branching into smaller cracks. Shit, fuck. He tries to unlock it, glancing at the time. It doesn't work. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Rowlen pops out of bed and walks to his closet, opening it to reveal a mirror. He adjusts his hair and begins to smile. His cargo shorts and red polo make him look really good. With a new confidence in the midst of a negative situation, he grabs his backpack and leaves his room.

The fox enters the dining room and spots Bridge again, this time eating a bowl of pizza rolls. The cougar is wearing his same outfit, a plain black hoodie and blue jeans.

"What a healthy lunch," Rowlen mocks as he gets his metal bottle. Bridge only nods, staring down at his food. No verbal response.

"Whatever. I am about to go get my phone fixed. Spending actual money on adult life things. Don't die from dietary pleasure while I'm gone," the fox comments as he walks out the door.

What a weirdo. Rowlen unlocks his truck and gets inside, questioning his roommate's choices. The keys turn, the engine starts, and he's gone.

The traffic to the phone store wasn't that bad. The line inside, on the other hand, was noticeably awful. Rowlen felt that today seemed like National Malfunction Day with the amount of furs in line. He sighs as he's situated behind an older female rabbit. At least he's near the front. But what's worse is that he can't do anything to make the time go by faster. No phone means no games, or, well, anything.

Rowlen sighs and thinks about his morning so far. Lots of nothing but homework. Financial

Systems homework due in a week. Restructuring the World homework due tomorrow...The fox glances at his claws, inspecting each. Yeah, school's done. He doesn't start a new job for a while. His stock wealth is going well enough for him too. Just homework left. His head turns as he takes in all the new devices. Screens around the establishment reflect the length of the line, their furred faces and bodies tiny in these reflections.

Rowlen eventually makes it to the counter and addresses the cashier.

"Hey, my phone cracked and I can't unlock it. I really need it for class."

The employee nods, taking the device and inspecting it. His mustelid paws run across the screen.

"What's your plan?"

"Unlimited, single line," Rowlen explains. He provides his contact information and the otter locates that exact plan, nodding again to himself. After a bit of discussion, the otter leaves. Rowlen is left there, filled with anticipation. This should not be taking so long. When did he last get a new phone? At least some years ago right? Rowlen looks behind him. There are more furs waiting behind him than before.

The otter soon returns to hand Rowlen an unfamiliar phone. Its thickness and physical home button prove that it is an older model.

"Oh, woah, what's this?"

"While we repair your phone, you're allowed a temporary mobile device. It's all included in your plan. It has your SD Card, your SIM card, and any files that were able to be transferred," the otter explains calmly.

Rowlen lets out a frustrated exhale, taking the phone. He spins it in his paw.

"How long do you usually take? It's only a screen repair, right?"

"We can get you a new screen in a week."

"A week?!" Rowlen exclaims. He holds up the phone he was given, pointing at it.

"You're telling me I'm dealing with this brick for a week?"

The otter holds a blank look.

"You are."

"Fine, cool. Thanks," Rowlen dismissively replies. He stalks out the store and to his truck.

Fucking great, one thing and then another. And that stupid otter didn't even explain anything. He starts up the truck with a frustrated huff. The phone he is given rings. Rowlen answers without hesitation.

"Hello?" the voice on the line says. It's a moderate volume, higher pitch. Is that...?

"Jack, what? Do you have your slides done?"

"Dude, we've been trying to call you for hours! The presentation starts in two minutes."

"What? Hours? The presentation isn't until," Rowlen pauses to check the time. It reads 12:32PM.

"Dude, hurry up. We start after this next group." Jack hangs up suddenly.

The fox backs out of the parking spot and drives off. How did this take so long? Dumb phone. No, dumb otter. Rowlen's vehicle passes by slower cars, zooming along the highway. He glances at the time nervously and refocuses on driving.

When he reaches Credstain University, Rowlen parks his truck, turns it off, and runs out towards the Mathematics building. Yeah, he is going to be that student today but he doesn't care. There are a few curious glances given while he sprints to the facility but, again, he doesn't care. He slams open the door to the Mathematics building. A doe gasps, pausing after seemingly reaching for the door handle.

"Excuse you. I have places to go," Rowlen nonchalantly utters. He continues sprinting, oblivious to her response. 149, 150, 151.... The dark gray fox opens the door suddenly. It's a full house. The lamenting and critical glares of everyone in the class all focus in on him. Professor Gramil, the crocodile in the front of the class, crosses his arms disapprovingly.

"You're late and you're interrupting the presentations."

The vulpine gives a piercing stare towards the crocodile.

"Got it prof."

He sits down after his successful reply. Situated in the front of the class is an open desk. He takes it and places his forehead in his paws, keeping them up with his elbows. Rowlen exhales angrily. He taps his bare hindpaw on the floor. How could he be so late? Fuck. This is horrendous. He looks up and that's Jack. Jack is presenting. Jack, the male peacock, is presenting. That's his group! Rowlen hurriedly pulls out his phone for his presentation notes. How do you work this again? He swipes desperately along the device, looking for the files. Alright, downloads, in here. There it is. It transferred. He opens it. 'Couldn't open file.' What?

"Phone away Rowlen," Professor Gramil commands, gaze still honing in on Rowlen. Rowlen slowly peers up at the crocodile and begins to put his phone up. The fox clenches his fist and turns to Jack. His look is returned with a subtle yet sympathetic nod from Jack as he continues speaking about the recession in Brealt. Rowlen racks his mind for what he should start with. He knows he is supposed to talk about the emotional impact and... something about finances.

"And that concludes my part." The class claps halfheartedly. Jack gives a small half-bow and clicks for the next slide. It shows Rowlen's title slide. The dark-furred mammal stands up and walks up to the front. He faces the classroom and is met with the same glares as before. He even spots Kevin, his pathetic rival. It's a lovely audience.

Rowlen gives a weak smile, "I will be discussing... emotional impact and..."

He looks at the slide, "Yeah, impact on spending too. When Brealt was in dark times, the furs there were too. Not dark, uh, not well, I mean."

He accidentally clicks the next slide and nervously turns back.

"Then there's the spending habits," he then clicks the next slide. He's doing awful. Why did he sign up for this time instead of later? Rowlen sighs and continues.

"The spending.... It gets worse in a recession. I think, yeah. There's some really big changes too. Like, some big...changes."

Someone snickers, smiling right after.

---

"Nice presentation Rowlen. Inspired!" Kevin announces as they all leave, walking next to the fox. The taller wyvern grins, wearing his signature sideways cap.

"Yours was no better, I bet," The fox retaliates, turning to the left and into another hallway.

"It was miles better than your shit! Haha!" Kevin laughs and walks down the hallway, leaving the fox alone for now.

That loneliness doesn't last. Jack jogs up to Rowlen. He feathers flap behind him as he does so. When he opens his mouth, Rowlen sharply comments, "Not a word. You didn't even introduce me."

He then walks faster, hoping to lose the avian next to him. Jack wilts and shakes his head. He takes a nervous inhale before retorting, "Dude, just grow up."

The vulpine pauses. Grow up? From a freshman? He doesn't have room to say that. With a sharp turn, he glares to his right. He stares at nothing. Rowlen searches the hallway. Jack left. The fox shakes his head and continues onward.

He casually leaves the building and starts looking for his truck. He halts after seeing his poor vehicle's windshield and hood doused in a blue energy drink. Jogging up to it, he realizes the viscid blue liquid is still fresh from the bottle. A sticky note rests calmly in the middle of the windshield.

Good luck on your presentation, fleshlight -Kevin.

Rowlen grits his teeth and pulls it off. It falls to the side of the starting truck. A seatbelt buckle and a stomp follow as Rowlen speeds to his house.

When he arrives, he slams his truck door. What a bunch of bullshit. He takes out his phone. 1:20pm, no messages. Dumb phone. The key is slid into the knob and he turns it.

"Where are you two?" Rowlen calls out. Of course there's no response.

One step in the house, however, causes him to withdraw his hindpaw. He glances down and his eyes widen. A slippery, dark red substance stains his pawpads.

"What the fuck?" Rowlen whispers, barely able to react as his eyes follows the trail of blood from the front door. The stench is mild but it's enough to emit a reaction from Rowlen. He clasps his nose and maw, trying not to gag. The fresh, prominent liquid leads to one of their bedrooms.

"No." Rowlen pleads. He holds the side of his head, already feeling dizzy. Why blood? Who did this? He struggles to move. His steps are slow. Where is he going? Is he in danger? He eventually follows the obvious path.

"No," He pleads again. He's at the bedroom door, a pool of blood coming from underneath.

The fox knocks in a sparse rhythm. The silence outside clashes with the chaos boiling inside Rowlen.

"Bridge?" He whimpers quietly. His words float in the stale air. The fox reaches down for the doorknob and begins to turn it. He stops, removing his paw. It is coated in blood. Tears well up in Rowlen's eyes. He tries to wipe the liquid on his red polo. It blends in with the fabric.

"No," Rowlen denies. The door creaks open by itself. "No."

He didn't mean to open the door.

He only touched it once.

He steps back and shakes his head.

What?

His eyes focus and his body is pushed into immediate dread as the room reveals itself.

---

Rowlen's phone rings and he shoots up in bed, covered in sweat. He pants and turns to each side, clutching his chest. He examines his paws. They're only wet from sweat. He grabs the phone and clears his throat.

"Hey, it's Jack. I just wanted to say our presentation is tomorrow. It's at 12:30PM."

Rowlen holds his head, "What? We...we had it today."

He looks at the phone. It's the same phone he has had for years.

"Dude, are you alright?" The peacock sincerely questions.

"What?" The vulpine breathes heavily but does his best to hide it. He's dizzy.

"I haven't seen you today. Dude, the presentation is tomorrow. It's in the calendar and the syllabus."

Rowlen sighs, almost happily, "We didn't have it today. Thanks. Don't be late."

Rowlen hangs up and sighs again. He covers his face and starts sobbing. It's real life.

His body straightens after a few minutes of crying. Bridge! He hesitates. He's alive but what could he do to change? Should he? Bridge is a weirdo but...

Rowlen decides to send a text.

---

Bridge

The cougar lays on his side, listening to an album he loves. His phone vibrates and he starts to sit up. Bridge gives one glance at it and almost dismisses it. Fucking Rowlen.

It's opened.

Rowlen: "Hey. I'll try to be less of an asshole to you. Dried seaweed is on sale, I'll get more of that."

The feline raises an eyebrow. Well, he sure has his attention now.

Bridge: "Why are you doing this?"

Bridge waits but there is no response. He didn't need one now though. More dried seaweed is always a treat for him. But why now?

Bridge lays back down and shrugs. It's only 12:32pm and he's already had a strange day.