FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The day before I died, Nola was gone.

At this point, it had been six days since Nola kicked Edge's ass, and some four months since the Warden last came down for an inspection and had taken the Vulpin girl with him back to the Spike. He did that maybe once a year. The shortest timespan I'd seen was six months between visits; the longest, not quite two years. So when he came back down after only four months, it was surprising. I guess it shouldn't have been--if I'd been paying more attention at the time, I would have noticed the gap between visits was getting shorter and shorter. The six-month gap had been proceeded by a seven month gap, and preceded by an eight-month gap. So, no pattern exactly, but shortening on average.

The Scrofa lined us up and the Warden went down the line, checking lymph nodes and armpits, muttering occasionally to a Scrofa who walked behind him with a sheet of paper, writing board, and clay pencil, marking on the board in unintelligible squiggles. Most of the Anthropa here knew how to read, but not me or my sister. No one had bothered to teach us, and we had never thought to ask. The only time I'd ever been curious was when watching the Scrofa woman who followed behind the Warden. I supposed she was noting who had Lumps and how severe. What else was there to bother with?

He paused at the Equus boy (his name was Arthur; I learned it when he sheepishly came over to apologize for being complacent in Edge's attack and he introduced himself). The Warden looked him over with a curious hunger in his eyes, stroking the massive horse cock between the boy's legs until it stood at attention. He considered it, then the boy's face, then apparently decided Arthur wasn't as interesting as he'd hoped and moved on. He stopped momentarily at Rika, who I could see was struggling not to bite his hand as he groped her body looking for Lumps.

Things had become... cooled, I guess, between her and me. She seemed to be blaming me for not doing more to protect us against Edge. It hurt, but I couldn't fault her for it, considering I sure as Hells blamed myself. I missed her laugh, her voice, and those scary predatory grins she gave me when she was thinking about me plugging her ass with my dick. I fucked that up, though. Too young to be familiar with the word "heartbroken," but there it was.

That had only solidified Nola's distaste for Rika. Anytime she saw the Vulpin staring sullenly in our direction, Nola would grab my hand and put it on the small of her back. It was awkward and I didn't understand the gesture, but it felt so nice I didn't question it. It was only hurting Rika, so I felt guilty about it too, but pleasure, as it often did, outweighed guilt.

The Warden moved past Rika, across a pair of Vithia, checking one under her hood as well as her armpits, and the other--Edge's friend--in the usual places instead. He then moved to Edge, glanced down at his bandaged knee, and sneered at the Canid. They were almost the same size, though the Warden had a significantly larger paunch, but the Rottweiler seemed to cave under the Warden's stare. For his part, the Warden just strode past, not even bothering to check such a new addition for Lumps--apparently he'd just wanted to make Edge feel even shittier, which I was entirely on board with.

He reached me, and as he had last time, he stopped to consider me. He rubbed my cock again, and just as before, it immediately started to swell in his gentle fingers. He licked his muzzle. "Ejaculation?" He looked like he was begging me to say "yes." The thought of getting dragged into the Spike, never to be seen again, froze me in place again.

I had to swallow three times before I managed, "N... no sir."

The Warden's eyes narrowed as he continued massaging my cock. Oh, gods. I shouldn't have lied. If he kept going like that, I was going to blow my load for sure. His hands were so shockingly smooth and soft, and his technique was--well, he actually _had_a technique, which I did not yet. It made holding back damned hard to do.

Finally, he grunted irritably and moved past me to Nola. He hadn't checked me for Lumps; I guess he was too eager to get his hands on my cock, which now throbbed and bounced painfully. When he turned to Nola, he seemed to remember his job and started rubbing her lymph nodes, then roughly pushed her arms up and rubbed her pits. Then he stopped, and frowned.

My whole stomach dropped out of me.

Why. Why was he stopping. What.

He prodded gently under Nola's left pit, and she winced slightly. Why was she wincing. That shouldn't have hurt Nola why were you wincing.

The Warden looked almost as shocked as I felt. He turned to his associate and muttered something directly into her ear. Nola's ears started panic-twitching and she turned to look at me. I was, as always, frozen in place. "L-Leon?" she muttered uncertainly.

The Warden's personal guards grabbed her by the arms and led her away.

My vision blurred. "Nollie," I whimpered.

"Leon!" she cried frantically, wriggling against the grips of the two Scrofa. It was no use; they may as well have been steel vices. "Leon!" she screamed again.

And then the huge iron doors of the Spike slammed shut, and Nola was gone.

* * *

The rest of the day blurred together. The only one who came close to me was Arthur, who put a consoling arm around my shoulders at dinner time. I didn't eat, no matter how much he prodded me. Twice Rika came close but hesitated uncertainly both times and ended up scampering away with her head slung low.

I sent Arthur quietly away and curled into a ball against the wall of the Den that night. It was the first time I'd slept alone since I was six years old, when Nola and I had fought. I shivered despite the summer heat and sobbed uncontrollably. I didn't care who heard me. Nollie was all I had left, and she was gone. I silently begged the gods, if they really existed, to send me to my sister. Let me die so I could be with her, because she was surely dead. Nobody came back from the Spike. I had been ripped in half. Let me die.

I guess I shouldn't have done that, because the gods listened.

* * *

I woke in the bitter, dim light of pre-dawn to the face of Edge looking down at me with murderous intent in his eyes. "Mornin', pup," he snarled, and grabbed my throat. I didn't even freeze this time--I was just too sleepy to react. I found myself tumbling through the air to land with a loud crack against the far wall. I was too dazed to even feel it, so I slumped to the ground on top of some poor Cheron woman who scrambled out of the way of the incoming Rottweiler, who hobbled on one leg to reach me. I struggled up to my feet and wavered in place as he came up to me and grabbed my neck in both huge hands. "No sister to save you now, you little shit," he snarled. From behind him, I saw a panicked Arthur rush up to help, but Edge's Vithis lackey clotheslined him. Arthur fell, and the Vithis was immediately on top of him, pummeling his face. Rika launched herself at Edge's back, scratching and biting, but he reached one of his arms behind him and gripped her entire head in his meaty paw. He swung her around like that a few times, and on the third swing, I heard a sickening pop from Rika and she went limp in Edge's hand. He tossed her aside and returned his grip to my throat. Behind him, the Vithis had plunged his fangs into Arthur's throat; he must have struck an artery, because thin gouts of blood shot from the Equus's neck in rhythmic spurts. He clutched frantically at his neck as the light slowly dimmed from his eyes. Soon he was still.

No one else tried to intervene. No guards came.

Edge turned back to me. "Now it's your turn. This is for fucking with me."

He gripped my neck, one hand over the other, and pulled them apart.

I suppose it should have hurt. But at this point, nothing mattered anymore. I watched my death with a sort of detached interest, as the Canid's arms bulged with effort, and I heard more than felt my vertebrae detach from each other with a series of squelching pops. Everything tunneled to darkness as all sensation left me.

The dark became all-encompassing, and Leon Hart, Yours Truly, was dead.