FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Lights click on with a flushed hum, slight visibility given to an otherwise dim-lit two-car garage, still relatively dark, tools and car parts strewn about in varying degrees. Sturdy wooden slat workbench and tool chest lining the forward wall, blanketed shelf just above head height over the bench. Oil stains accenting a clear empty cement floor, a human shape covered ghost style in a cheap white sheet chained to a disposable stadium chair making a fine centerpiece to this grim stage. Chains rattling coupled delightfully with labored breathing under the muffle of said sheet, a short stout crimson scaled dragon thocking the pavement in black red laced steel toes. Dressed out in clean navy denim jeans, a black snug fitted t-shirt, blood-red overall suspenders strapping it all down nicely with a Y spit in the back, freshly polished surgical steel septum ring, and tungsten carbide rings on each ring finger glinting in what little light there was. Swiping the sheet free as he strolled by letting his captive adjust to their new surroundings, it was a satyr, pale-skinned bulbous upper human torso stitched inhumanely to a goat's lower half, head topped with ram horns. Hooves immediately beginning to kick and scrape pavement, occasionally flicking sparks, his image blurring rapidly several times over, each time lifting the folding chair up exactly one inch before landing back on pavement.

"Chill, you're not going anywhere. I've made sure of that." The dragon walked off half dragging the sheet while folding it, retrieving another chair and hucking it back to center under assault from the foulest glare he'd ever received.

"Ho ho relax, tonight's special. I want to show you what you've created, what you've helped unleash upon this earth." The satyrs gaze softened to one of patient irreconcilable rage, the dragon's crimson iris's glowing a tad brighter than usual against the black sclera, sounds of long fibrous metal bending and flexing echoed from every dark corner, soon coupling with sharp metal scraping pavement. Panic set in as endless strands of razor wire seemingly snaked their way out of nowhere, in dozens they approached encircling them both.

"Relax, they're not for you. . ." Placing a set of claws on one goat-furred thigh, smiling. "Yet." As if on cue every shiny and rust coated razor snake slithered to either boot and headed upward. Satyr watching in odd grotesque curiosity as they filled his jeans, then shirt in twisting helix patterns, it wasn't until they passed his sleeves that their purpose was made clear. Shredding skin and scale from underneath they continued their journey embedding in the back of his claws, writhing where he sat the dragon seemed to be enjoying slow evisceration, crotch of his jeans throbbing taught while bits of razor began peaking through the clothes. Wrapping up and over his shoulders, they peeked out from in between the shoulder blades similar to a crewd Mad Max collar, curving back toward the base of the skull coming together and pressing upward to re-emerge just around each horns base curling upward in a similar half S curve. Watching in abject disdain as the new "horns" formed, looking and waiting for a window to move,

"There, much better, don't ya think?" Scaly muzzle perking in a creepy confident smile, leaning forward sneaking a claw behind the belt gag and freeing the satyr's mouth. Mouth immediately forming in the shape of a scream, dragon watching in amusement, no sound audible whatsoever.

"You can scream all you like, even if I didn't mute you no one could hear outside of these walls, thanks for the tips on magic by the way." Smiling a devilishly happy smile, pointing to all 8 corners, each adorned with a rune made of flame, satyr mouthing "fuck you" in return making the scaly laugh.

"You know every time I tried to get away from you, from everyone. It wasn't for me, it was for you and everyone else I loved. I never... I never wanted to expose you, or anyone to this." Raising his claws to his sides, open palms facing skyward, dozens more razor wire strands raising themselves up sitting pretty similar to cobra's being charmed en masse by his every whim. The satyr softened briefly at his words, dragon's gaze one, more of a stare than anything else, the steel razor snakes under his skin beginning to spin slinging gore and shredded scale everywhere.

"But. . . you just couldn't let me go? Could you?" The pair stared at each other speechless before the dragon broke.

"And now, we're here." He walked to the satyrs back redoing the waist belt gag snuggly, leaning down to hiss in a furry ear.

"Everyone remembers their first, consider it the last bit of kindness I can give you." Stepping around to swing kick the chair he'd sat on, disappearing once more back toward the tool bench, all that could be heard was the brushing of cloth and the de-shelving of something heavy.

"There she is." He growled, satyr frozen in place, a million thoughts running through his mind trying to fill the gap of the unknown, void filled in the most horrifically abrupt manner possible by the sound of a pull string ratcheting several times to crank over a two-stroke. Eyes growing wide, body thawing at what was about to happen, not until one claw wrapped the throttle fully sending the rpm's skyward did true panic set in, attempting everything accumulated in arcana to send himself anywhere, anywhere else. Steady rumbling putter growing near until the dragon came into view holding a rather old red chainsaw, paint flaking, and grease caked, sputtering in his claws smoking profusely.

"Hold still." Words pushing through muffled in smoke, dragon's eyes focused on the satyrs' horns, raising the bar and seating its nose hooked just above the base of the left horn, sending bits of shredded keratin and the horn itself within seconds floor bound. Reeling in pain once the teeth grabbed his nerve, it was over just as soon as it started, blood pulsing in rapid spurts, Capra thrashing in place struggling for escape, body blurring in panicked escape attempts.

"Ahhhh, HOLD STILL!" Scales barked, razor wire snapping up to restrain his friend in place, head cocked the opposite way, horn raised bare and true. Moving in, hooking saw tip in place again, he wracked the throttle, uninterrupted by another teleport attempt only this time, when goatse popped back the saw continued, skinning the flesh from the right side of his neck.

"Well shit, look at what you made me do." Wire strands upon wire strands surged to plug the shower of red spraying from his neck, but not before Scales could jab a claw three knuckles deep and suck it clean, pausing where he stood at a shocking revelation.

"You know. . . for someone who brags about purity. . . You sure do taste like a mutt. Dirty, unclean, a fake, Fraud." His victim stared back upon the verge of shock, horrified, fearful, enraged, all swirled together and shaking.

" I decided to give you one more chance..... All I wanted was a show of faith, a sign of trust." The dragon growled loud enough to outshine the banging, echoing putter of the saw, occasionally whacking the throttle, bar tip held inches from the satyr's face. Curling in himself where he stood, shadow filling in bags under each brow.

"Literally anything other than shutting me out would've cemented you on the other side of this blade." Finishing his words with an audible sniff, looking back up to the satyr with tear filled eyes, looking for some sign of hope, met only by a being curled within itself in fear. Every doubt he'd ever had growing lush with life, the weight of heartache relieved in an instance,

"Oh..." Whacking the throttle several more times looking down as the satyr trembled in electrocuting fear, piss filling the curved steel seat before running over, draining in showers toward pavement. The dragon shook his head in disgust,

"You wanted to see me. Well, look at me now." Keeping the steady rhythm in throttle revving, letting the words set in to find no change, raising it overhead, and full sending the chain oval.

"WELL LOOK AT ME NOW!!!" The dragon roared, slamming the bit chain drive bar right into his victim's forehead, throttle trigger held handle flush, smokey gore showering everything in eyesight. Grinding it down the twitching creature's center, not stopping when it cleaved the rib cage and began slinging shrapnel from the chair's back support, only when the saw stalled at the seat, chain locked in pelvic bone and goat nutsack did he stop. Plucking the thirty-six-inch bar back in a swing, slinging bloody flesh bits as water slung from wet cloth, dropping to his knees when he saw his handy work. Thumb off clicking the run toggle, looking over the lifeless, still, split remnants of his dear friend. Sadness and cruel laughter welling up in sheer madness, sobs and sniffs turning toward teary chuckles then back again until only sobs remained.

"You just couldn't let me go, could you?" He spoke, eventually facing the log split corpse and assuming a dogeza stance.

"I'm sorry." Relief and an unknown sense of calm washed over him, holding the stance and appreciating the cold stone garage floor under his palms in silence.

"It's a little late for that." A voice spoke, clear as day, he heard it, breaking to look around, no one else was there with him, living anyway.

"Over here." He turned, the voice came from the split corpse draining its fluids all over the chair and floor.

"Yup, right here." Scales paused, curious as to what or whom was now trapped in the garage with him, leaning in close, muzzle almost in place for a bj, sniffing and examining the gore-strewn sight in front of him. Upended and thrown a solid one-eighty, slammed back onto the pavement, it felt as though someone had thrown a hot spear and pegged the dragon right in his left eye, rising he ran over to a busted piece of mirror he'd kept for working at odd angles. His left iris was the original jade green he'd been born with, white sclera fighting off the black in pulsing waves, watching as the war persisted until the black had completely receded.

"What in the fresh hell." Speechless, this was a new one even in his book.

"Exactly." There that voice was again, left eye growing hot, increasing pressure exerting force on the eye socket until the very ball itself burst into flames, throwing fiery sparks forward in a hissing whistle.

"AHHH SHIIIIIIT!" Scales reached to claw the thing from his skull, ocular muscle exploding planting him on ass, an out-of-place silence and calm following. Raising both sets of claws to either side of his head, scales and eyeball regrowing back as they were before, standing to take a tour of the garage, it had been sealed but he definitely wasn't alone now.

"Hey, over here ya schmuck." Turning he looked at the corpse still tied to the chair, directly left of his side.

"Nope, down here fuck face." Left deltoid muscle bulging with force, ripping off the suspender strap and tearing his shirt, the jade eye that had just exploded was now peaking from a split in his shoulder scaling.

"Alright, nope." Feeling invaded in the worst ways, Scales took no time in sending razor wire to rip and tear this intruder out, yet they curled back inches away from splaying the two. Bulging again the eye sprouted forth in a fully spine-supported skull, yet at this, this was the point where rational sense hit him.

"OH GOD, IT'S GETTING BIGGER!" Everyone on the block heard that one if they could've heard it anyway, inside the garage a mutilated corpse and gore ingrained saw watched as a dragon gave birth to a twin via his shoulder, the pair fighting and kicking as the twin fully formed and eventually split. Razor wire horn and his counterpart stood staring each other down, the newly birthed twin wore the jade eyes and a long lost thick mane of silverish white.

"Who the hell are you?" Scales asked, the twin mocking his sobs as he replied.

"I'm the good one, you're the bad one, I'm the good one, you're the bad one, I'm the" He belted on repeat,

"Delusional half. The one enjoying borrowed time through Rosey shades." This new halves expression dropped, slowly pacing clockwise pacing himself between scales and the satyr's corpse.

". .Good one, and you need to go." Number two waved his hand force calling the saw to him ripping the pull chord, Scales now finding himself on the opposite side of his beloved saw. Wrapping the throttle to load up on rpm's, number two jammed it in Scales sternum, spraying himself and the garage door in glorious arcs of blood, gore, and bits of chipped bone, yet razor horn didn't falter, instead moaning loudly causing number two a pause.

"Oh come now, don't stop, I was almost there." Scales gripped the copies claws holding the throttle floored, rocking the writhing bar and chain running loops through his chest, pulling the bar in and out of where his sternum, saw fucking the chasm. Clone watching, attempting to drag it up toward the devil's skull, yet the very hands wrapped around his own only pulled him close, razor horn nutting as the dog teeth interlocked with his ribs, shuttering as the saw itself sputtered, out of fuel.

"Do you have any idea how long it's been since a man did a proper job inside of me? Figures it'd be a copy of myself." Scales chided, chuckling while pulling the saw free, noticing a fuming black sludge drooling from the satyrs split corpse instead of blood.

"You hurt our friends, our family . . ." Copies muzzle curling in a flared growl, squaring shoulders and baring fangs. Scales kept his glare on this copy, catching the black tars effluence taking on a bit of liveliness in Goatse's corpse.

"I admire you for everything you did and believed, but you're not real. . . and that one's definitely not a friend." Zeke spartan kicked his copy backward, the clone's eyes watching him confused as he landed amongst a living flesh suit, snapping him up as a prey fish getting sucked down the gullet of a waiting hunter. Instantly adorning his scales in a firm bind, eyes growing white and possessed as the satyr's corpse wrapped around him as a symbiote would, screeching loud enough at an unearthly pitch to shatter the placed runes, instantly bolting skyward through the house's roof. Ezekiel stepped forward looking up through the blown out hole, catching the disfigured bodies co-mingling into one ghoulish being against the full moon and blurring off east.

"Well that's not good." Ezekiel stated, pondering what could come next, claws stroking his chin several times before retrieving a beer from the garage fridge and proceeding to scrub clean the mess he'd made.

Fin?