FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Welcome. I apologize for the long delay between this chapter and the first. I have already written the entire triology, but my lector (god bless him) seems to require much more time than expected.

On a different note, a short clarification: I used the word "psyker" serveral times in this chapter, thinking that it would be a common english word - and not a word from the Warhammer franchise. The word means as much as "a being gifted with psychic, quasi-magical abilites." It is simply too useful to replace it with a paraphrase and thus I kept it in. Thank you.

2: Joshua

"_I am part of that power which would

The evil ever do, and ever does the good._ "

-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Faust

The weeks he had spent with Tereny and the technological wonders he had barely realized were quickly forgotten. The sanctuary remained as a vague, bitter memory, but in the end only that what was present counted. He spent the next six years in his new hideout. He grew up and became a young man. He went through countless outbreaks, regretted them, sought for penance, suffered another seizure... The legendary discipline of his people was still inside of him, but at least for a while it was lost. And with every passing day, Joshua's researches drew closer circles around the shady beast. His predatory instincts assured him that it was close. His unnatural persistence would soon be rewarded, the moment drew ever closer.

Meanwhile, Nevlamas continued to fight the black rage with cold defiance.When choosing his homestead, he had completely forgotten about the amount of blood spilled in a criminal slum - that mistake turned out to be fatal. He learned that even the smell of blood could wake the rage, a small but letal detail, considering the permanent murders all around.

The affliction defeated him around two times for each week that went by. Then, in madness, he sneaked through the shady alleys and searched for someone stupid enough to stay alone. Once he had found those, he killed them quickly and dragged them to a quiet place, where he could do his work undisturbed. There he drank their warm essences and devoured them with fur and scale. He didn't care whether he ate man or woman, violator or violated, child or grandfather. The children had sweeter blood, the criminals offered more resistance, but in the end they all were just deer in his territory. After finishing his work, he buried or stashed the few remains, retreated to a roof and slept off his intoxication.

That he was never revealed may seem strange, but the circumstances were most favourable for his doing. Virtually no one who had seen him had survived. Furthermore, he murdered many of his victims in their beds and houses, where months could pass before they were found. And as said before - murders were an absolutely common sight. And since he ate lizards just like foxes, dogs or hares, many people didn't even notice his presence in the quarter. But above all it was the eternal vigilance behind his demonic grimace that protected him. It made the beast bury its prey and it was the power that drowned his greedy screams before they could leave his throat.

This vigilance was basically Nevlamas' true self. And no matter how much he fought it, that self showed feelings. He awoke lethargic and sated in the morning and thinking about his last meal made him feel sick. The faces of his victims haunted him in his dreams. His most persistent companions were regret, guilt and shame. Of course, it was no help to say that all this wasn't his fault. He had blood on his hands, literally. He could even smell it - and the willpower he summoned to stop himself from licking his fingers was beyond human imagination.

And so he repented. His instincts didn't allow him to end his misery by simply jumping from one of those beautiful skyscrapers, which was why he punished the murderers and criminals around him. Just as his shadow had become the unknown horror of the poor, he became the horror of cut-purses and cut-throats.

But every civilian he saved became a witness that knew about his presence. Actually, he should have killed them all, but at the bottom of his heart - and he knew that - still lingered a merciful weakling.

It is impossible to say, whether it was the gabbling of those witnesses that eventually caught Joshua's attention or whether Nevlamas himself had caught the attention of other people in the end; It turned out to be the same: After six long years of misery and mourning, sergeant Joshua Rat - who should have been dismissed because of mental incapacity several times before - set foot on this forgotten piece of ground and stepped back into the life of a young lizard. He followed rumours and whispers, just like he had hunted even the smallest trace in the past.

This time he would not be disappointed.

--

"There still is time to run, vermin."

The laughter that answered sounded more than just a little unhealthy; It might have been connected to the countless ulcerous furuncles that were shattered over his opposite's face.

"So wassup, kiddo? Not havin' any courage ta fight or wha? Get'chaself ova here and yo cute 'lil butt will be next!"

Nevlamas understood the allusion the bulldog had made quite well - rapists always seemed to be rapists and never anything else. He saw no necessity to answer. In silence, he was even glad that this sore piece of flesh was still wearing at least a few rags to cover himself. There were things he didn't want to see.

Nevlamas himself was completely naked, even his shoes were long rotten, still he stood between monster and prey without fear or hesitation. A small girls pressed herself against the steel-door six feet behind him, that formed the end of this impasse. She was a tabby cat, maybe ten or twelve years in age; The early morning sun cloaked her features in twilight. The mud of the street she cowered in had already imbued her little dress, but at least she as well was still wearing something - Nevlamas booked that as a success.

The alley could've been part of a catalogue for this area (Visit our slums - we've got mud!), typical as it was. The door at its end was halfway eaten by rust and a flickering lamp flooded it with sickly shining neon light. The houses towered fourteen, fifteen foot upwards, a chaos of steel, stone and obsolete plastics, without visible planning, regardless of order. The bloodscale stood his ground.

"Is that your final declaration?"

The words left his mouth as a croak. He had barely spoken a word since six years - except for sentences like this or crazed rambling.

Now the laughter that answered was accompanied by a squall of saliva and pus. The moribund dog drew out an antiquated blaster-pistol and aimed in his direction. Nevlamas didn't expect it to harm anyone except its owner, but by the gods, was that of any importance?

"Now ya going outa me way, kiddo. I'll just have ma way with da 'lil beauty, but don't worry yaself, I promised you be next."

The lizard simply spread his arms and gave him a provoking look. The gesture was obvious.

His foe answered with an angry snarl and began to shoot. It even worked for a short while, despite Nevlamas' valuation. Four times whirred the weapon, three times followed a scorching impulse of energy. The fourth caused a chain reaction inside of the gun's power cell. The following explosion ripped half of the canine's hand away. Nevlamas, who had dodged the previous shots with ease, thanked fate for his luck. The fire had cauterized the open wounds of that wannabe-rapist - no blood flowed.

Nevlamas was behind the dog before his screaming body hit the ground and began to strangle him. He overcame his disgust and pressed his thumbs into the festering flesh of his neck. He increased the pressure, until he heard a faint cracking sound.

He let the droopy corpse fall to the ground and raised up again. He decided to look after the girl before he left.

It seemed like she was well so far. She pressed herself against the door, ears laid back, flat against her head. With feverish, frozen eyes she stared into nothingness. It looked like she didn't notice what was happening around her, but Nevlamas only had to touch her shoulder to make her shriek in panic and let her jump on her feet. She jumped over the dog's corpse and disappeared before he could even turn around.

He didn't understand why his protégées were always that afraid of him. Did they really believe that he would simply be their next abuser? Ridiculous! Neither was he into mammals, nor did he care much about sex in gener...

His gaze had moved to the entrance of the alley and his stream of thought ran dry, stopped by the sight he was confronted with. Well, it looked like his plans for the evening had to be adjourned.

Six years had passed, but still he held a very detailed picture of Joshua in his memory.

The person he saw definetly WAS Joshua, but it was hard to find similarities. His fur was tattered and rancid, revealed red, swollen flesh where it fell away. His magnificent uniform was sordid and worn out, the visible teeth decayed and their flesh sore. Nothing of that equalled the horror in his eyes however. A lunatic, empty fire burned behind them, instead of the light of a soul. The bloodscale had seen such eyes only once before - in a mirroring puddle. The rat had crossed his hands in front of his waist and appeared to be completely calm. But Nevlamas had a trained eye for negative things and it was easy for him to read even the smallest hint: Joshuas ears twitched again and again, just as his tail. His hands shivered lightly, barely visible, as if they begged for permission to draw a weapon and to shoot, shoot, shoot...

Hatred flew around him like an aura, like a blazing halo of naked destructive frenzy - it had to be incredibly hard for him to stop himself from shooting at everything that moved. Nevlamas began to realize that he hadn't only created a monster - he had created two.

"In the name of justice, you are under arrest!", his nemesis snarled: "Cooperate and I promise a quick death."

"Well", the lizard tipped against his forehead: "Is the law of this planet actually allowing such executions?"

"I don't give a fucking shit. There is no longer time to run, vermin!"

Nevlamas had to laugh. Fate, that old jester....

--

Joshua's hands moved with a speed that fooled even the skilled eyes of his reptilian prey and for a moment they seemed to be but a shadow that swiftly hasted by. His arms crossed, unsheathed two blaster guns and shot from the hip.

To aim with such short weapons in such short time was downright impossible, but the rat had always been a gunslinger and had perfected his skills ever since.

Nevlamas found himself completely catched out and reacted by far too slow. His supernatural reflexes took control and a split-second before the shots would have burned his head he rolled sidewards and jumped up again. He felt a rain of rusty splinters rippling against the scales of his back - one of the shots had obviously hit the door.

Joshua didn't stop with that, instead he began to fire with both guns as fast as they allowed. The two foes were not more than thirty feet away from each other, so that the bloodscale had barely any time to dodge. Time and again he avoided the hail of projectiles only by a hair; the rat continued to let him dance.

He quickly abandoned his original plan to simply climb a wall and vanish. The good sergeant would've killed him before he would have a chance to escape. Therefore he chose the last way he had and turned one of his jumps into a ramming movement.

The rusty, perforated metal shattered under his impact like an eggshell and barely slowed him. While he sunk into the shadows that lied behind, Nevlamas coiled himself up to minimize the damage landing would cause. Joshua's last last shot hit him while he did so, anointing his whole body with screaming pain. He shrieked like a fallen dragon.

The projectile had cleanly pierced his left arm and stole every feeling in it. That, he thought, was absolutely not what he would call appreciated.

He fell almost five feet, and for a moment he succumbed to the idea that there was no ground in this blackness, that he'd fall for all eternity. Then he hit the floor - where his injured arm failed him miserably - and slithered ten, twelve feet further as if he was nothing but a lifeless straw doll. The consequences were devastating.

He stood up again, but every filament of his existence begged to fall unconscious. Wearing no clothes, his body had been completely unprotected during his little glissade, so that his scales had been ripped apart like thin paper. The impact itself had at least sprained his right ankle and knocked out several teeth. His whistling breath could mean that he had suffered broken ribs or a lung rupture as well - hopefully not both.

It took him several seconds to orientate himself, but once the daze of anguish had vanished, he saw with extraordinary acuity. The rush of adrenaline began to show an effect.

He had never seen a cantine kitchen before - safe one so terribly out of date - and thus he did not realize his new environment to be one. What he saw, was a copious, low hall, filled with countless metal blocks that formed lines from wall to wall. But above all, he saw weapons. They hung from the ceiling or lied on the blocks, in drawer or convexities of all kinds: Cleavers, kitchen- and carving knives, skewers, forks, pans and more. They sparkled in the weak light, just as they were waiting. There was no time to waste.

Ignoring the scandalized complains of his body, he hasted behind the first line of the iron cubes and pressed his slim back against it. His healthy hand grabbed a sharp, heavy knive and drew it to his chest. Then - silence.

A shadow darkened his field of view only seconds later; Joshua had entered the room.

Nevlamas closed his eyes and tried to breath as as flat as possible. Being a rat, his pursuer owned optical skills that surpassed even his own by far - and his ears were even sharper. And because he rather preferred a head without a hole, lil Nev had to be very, very quiet now.

He could hear the faint, clicking sound accentuating each of Joshua's steps. It seemed that the hunter wasn't sure where his prey could be hiding. The clicking swung, sometimes to the left and sometimes to the right. After a while, it moved to the far end of the hall, carefully advancing toward a possible ambush.

The lizard waited until the sound trailed off, then he jumped up, spun around and threw his knife with an enraged shout.

His foe had indeed been where he had hoped, and had just bent forward to peer behind the first row of the iron cubes. The knife flew with precision and would have cut Joshua's snout in half, would have done it, if not for the sake of his unbelievable agility. A single, quick pull of a trigger was enough to catch the missile in mid-air, turning it into dust. A short moment of shock froze the rat in that stance: Arm pushed through, tightly clutching the smoking gun. Then he caught sight of the reptile.

It was Nevlamas who reacted a split-second earlier. He hasted to the next line of cubes and rolled over them. The hail of fire began not even a heartbeat later. Still falling, Nevlamas grabbed all reachable knives and shortly remained in the scant cover the cube provided, before crawling sidewards and out of Joshua's field of fire. He used the little time he had to jump up and threw three of his knives into his enemy's direction.

Using only one arm, he was by far slower than usually, but the moment of surprise was his faithful ally. He could see Joshua's rat-eyes widening, then the sergeant let himself fall to the ground - just a little bit too late. The first blade hit him while he was falling and slit his stomach at its side. Judging by the disgusting sound of ripping flesh, the throw had destroyed one of the twin-organs that lied left and right in everyone's abdomen (he didn't know their name, their taste however very well). A shrill, squealing hiss, almost like a screaming child, maltreated his acustic nerves. The lizard allowed himself to grimace, then he turned around and fled.

To flee crippled and exsanguinating proved to be complicated and that worried him. By itself, none of his wound was critical but even if survived the battle - he would either bleed to death or succumb to his lung injuries within the next weeks. He was affianced to the reaper. Still he fought.

Joshua was back on his feet after the bloodscale had surmounted the third cube-line. The sergeant had ripped the ragged top of his uniform from his chest, winding it around his waist to stop the worst blood flow and continued his shooting.

The following battle equalled a clumsy dance. Both opponents were in permanent movement, jumped, rolled and dodged, took cover, lost each other, ambushed each other, shot or threw whenever an opportunity allowed it.

The whole interval took place in less than ten minutes, Nevlamas however experienced it to last hours. His instincts were the only thing that kept him alive, and the moment of betrayal, where his tired body would simply collapse, drew ever closer.

He eventually returned to the point where it all had begun: With his back pressed against the line that was closest to the exit. Joshua was somewhere close by - he could hear his steps. With closed eyes did he try to localize their source, but he simply couldn't do it. A high-pitched cheeping had entrenched itself in his acustic nerves and his spirit was by far too confused to fade it out. All focus was lost. That was not good at all.

And thus it came that he wasn't aware of Joshua's approach, until he stumbled over him and almost fell down. Nevlamas jumped up, stabbed his momentary weapon (a kitchen knife) into the direction of his foe - and unexpectedly looked into the muzzle of a blaster gun. But he did not lose all his hope, for he could feel flesh under the tip of his knife. Soft flesh.

"I'd name it a draw", Nevlamas assessed: "If this was a story, I would say that the author tries to get me out of it but..."

"There can be no talk of a god damned draw.", Joshua growled: "If you slit my throat I'll still live long enough to take you with me. And what about you? How well will you fight with a hole in your fucking head?" This was the lizard's first opportunity to examine his body since the battle had begun; convulsions shook his body and blood dripped through his bandage and on the ground. His days were numbered, just as much as his own.

"And if I spare you - will you spare me?"

The rat laughed hoarsely: "Of course not! My life can be sacrificed, your death however is fucking inevitable, to say it colourful. Die now."

The prey saw his taloned finger bending around the trigger. The moment of triumph was imminent now, was within his grasp - and facing it's ultimacy, Joshua seemed to hesitate. The finger froze in its movement, his eyes widened. Nevlamas wanted to use this opportunity to kill him, but his hand as well did not longer listen to its owner. It felt paralyzed.

"What the fuck?", the sergeant uttered.

"Drop your weapons and come out with your hands visible!", shouted a voice. Nevlamas turned around to the door, in its direction. That voice was strange. And not because of its euphony or youth - but because of its obviously female sound.

In the door frame stood the most beautiful being in the universe.

Or at least one that conveyed that impression. He admitted: His statement to be completely uninterested in mammals had been a downright blatant lie. She was a vixen , cloaked in cyan blue fur. Cream-coloured accents covering her hands, inner ears and parts of her face made the blue seem darker than it was. Her fluffy tail was held by two decorated rings. She wore a skintight attire in ultramarine and black, that looked as if it had been made for fighting. Her right hand held an iron bar she had probably picked up somewhere around here - the way she was holding it, her whole stance confirmed Nevlamas' assumption: She was a warrior. The pearls decorating her short hair and the diadem she was wearing suggested something else however. The teal gem embedded in it was a special crystalline substance that his people called psyker-stones. Oh that was bad.

Her facial features were soft and he saw the potential of an almost cute kind of beauty in them; but now, anger was deforming that beauty and replaced it with power, sheer power that seemed to flow out of her eyes like tears. Her sight was the one of a wrathful goddess - terrifying and awe-inspiring alike - but he also saw the shivering of her limbs, the sweat that soaked hair and fur. Whatever she was doing (and he could imagine it), it seemed to cost her every last bit of energy.

"Weapons down, I said!"

Nevlamas obeyed. The knife fell down, danced clanking over the ground and stayed there. He saw that Joshua would not emulate his deeds, so he stepped forward and wriggled the two guns out of his hands, deliberately ignoring his angry snarls. He threw both weapons into the darkness behind them afterwards, just to be sure.

"Good. Now turn around and hold your hands over your head", the vixen ordered. Then, as if she was talking to herself: "Every few steps the next perversion. Sometimes I hate this city."

Again it was Nevlamas who obeyed first. Joshua eventually followed him, but his face was a mask of shocked unbelief. "Lady Krystal, you can't be serious!", he gasped aghast: "This person is a mass murderer! A savage, psychopathic beast! There's no way we can tolerate a..."

"..servant of right that wants to murder an innocent man, sergeant."

"Innocent man!? Fucking hell, he has the blood of dozens, if not hundreds of his victims on his hands!"

"On his hands, yes", Krystal's voice sounded almost flippant now - maybe a spark of her actual self? "But not on his mind. He himself is a victim of a..."

She hesitated and turned around to the lizard: "Your thoughts are blurred. Is it a disease?" He nodded and she continued: "He bears no guilt. Their deaths were tragic, but they were accidents. You know that I can read his mind and I can assure you that I have no interest in lying to you." She sighed: "But yes, we have to render him harmless. I'll take care of that, I guess. Sergeant, we all would be best suited if you went home now. Your hatred complicates this mess even more." Then to the bloodscale again: "Come. Let us see what we will do with you."

He quickly flew to her side. Her presence seemed invigorating, even intoxicating. He usually hated that feeling, how is mind lost control, becoming stupid and confused, a puppet of his environment. This however... this was different. Refreshing. Pure. To be close to her appeared to undo the tainted presence and the horrifying past, to simply.. eradicate them like cool, clean rain would do. It was the touch of redemption.

Was he in love with her? Absolutely possible. But also impossible to say, not knowing any feeling connected to love and thus having nothing to compare with what he felt now. But she attracted him. Strongly. Beyond any doubt.

As he reached her, he tried to be as close to her as possible, but she backed away from him. That hurt, but he accepted it.

"Fine", the vixen said: "Follow me."

They had only left a few steps of the small stairs behind them when Nevlamas' predatory instincts screamed alarm. It took him less than a heartbeat to turn around and prepare his body for battle, but even that would have been too slow. Krystal reacted sooner.

The weapon in her hands became a draught that passed his face - then it crashed into Joshua's chin and ended his pounce in the most painful way.

An achingly shrill cry of anguish cut through the air like a sword. Fountains of blood sprayed metres away, accompanied by several teeth. The rat broke to his knees, whining and crying. His fingers, still clenched around the iron grip of a brutal carving knife, doubtingly held the wrecked, bleeding lump of flesh that once had been his snout. His gaze caught Krystal's face for several seconds, then the cold flame behind his eyes faded and he buckled. The dull sound of his unconscious body hitting the ground was surprisingly final. It was over.

He really believed that for a few seconds. Then raised the sweet, heavy aroma of freshly spilled blood, a scent he knew and feared like nothing else.

His pulse quickened. His breathing instinctively became heavier, hectical, forced him to inhale more and more of the delicious air. A languorous shiver ran down his spine and spread as an electric tingling over his whole body - even to his numb arm. He began to quiver. A lustful moan escaped his lips.

Without taking notice of the threatening rattle of his breath he inhaled deeply, ready to set free a scream of infernal wrath.

An invisible hand grasped his mind and gave him a mental pinch - that single touch was enough to choke off the Black Rage before it grew too mighty. He exhaled, not screaming, but gasping.

"That would have been a bad start, eh?", Krystal asked. Did she taunt him?

"Come now, we go."