Fighting Fursecution: Entry 2 - - - Prolouge
#2 of Fursecution Journals
Recorded on: June 12, 2023
Fursecution--- Though not by any official definition, I best describe it by my research into both words "persecution" and "execution" to help one imagine the story of my life, hell everyone's lives that have been infected by this... disease.
Allow me this moment to explain how we got to where we are, seeing as this may be the last time I ever get to write in this journal, to chronicle now before it's too late...
Who could have ever guessed the moment tolerance would meet its melting point was after a furry was elected as president?
In December of the year 2020, scientists manage to crack the human genome through the study of the animal genome, leading to it further studies of how to improve and often times heal the human condition. People who suffered cancer no longer feared death as an only viable option; babies born without the use of their lungs, no longer left on operating tables as parents looked on in horror of their lifeless bodies; the wheelchair restricted no longer bound to their chairs, and those with simply a headache, healed an in instant.
However, as millions of people came to find out in the coming weeks, there is always a price to pay to become a god among men.
After the clinical distribution of the drug 'Cedoperforin,' it was soon the norm to get to see your family members suffering of their ills, suddenly look at you with pain free eyes and admit that they were saved. It was only several weeks after said person was administered the drug that unusual side effects started to emerge, each person affected differently but all with the same eventually outcome; a full on theriomorphous, or in layman's terms taking on animal characteristics to the point of a full on external metamorphosis.
From wolves to foxes to bunnies, people were slowly no longer people, but animals with human characteristics, essentially still maintaining their humanity, just in a different sense of the word. You could find an old man who was suffering from Alzheimer's turn into an elephant with the memory and trunk to match, but no longer the cuddly old geriatric he once was. You could find an off duty police officer who once used a German Sheppard to sniff out drugs now doing it himself through the use of his newly acquired muzzle, simply because he hoped the drug could cure male pattern baldness. It was a new age of man pun intended.
We were collectively known to the public as "furries", and merged our way back into society after our transformations were fully complete. Although, even though scientists learned how to rid the world of its ills, they never learned how to cure people of fear and intolerance.
Months following the radical change that made us into who we are, people started to question the idea of coexisting with such unnatural beings. You could now find a little girl who suffered from type two diabetes and was transformed into a kitty, running into her mother's arms after being bullied at school and having her fur shaved off her back, only for her mother to look at her in disgust and announce out on the lawn so that their neighbors could see "I don't like your kind."
Tensions only grew worse after moments like that. You would find a gang beating the hell out of a Dalmatian teenager in an alley, stripping him down and raping the poor dog in full public view, with nobody even taking a second glance at the mayhem. Humans would begin to torture furs, ridiculing them for simply trying to be like them. Restaurant doors would slam when a Lion would walk to their door. Swimming pools would close when a Gazelle would just wanna take a dip. It became soon apparent that humans hated furries for their youthful genetics and the strength they acquired through healing their human condition.
Eventually, furries began to take a stand against the violence, though not through force for fear of inciting chaos, but rather through politics and non-violent protests. It was some time down the road, through these peaceful negotiations and the sheer number of furries that triple population when compared to humans, that a Lion was elected to office as president. Several weeks following his inauguration and the plans he had to write a law into the constitution that forbade any violent or discriminative act against furries to be deemed illegal, he was gunned down in front of a crowd of humans who clapped while he drew his last breath.
With no military force to speak of at the time, and no voice among the furries anymore to carry their words to the humans that shut both their hearts and their doors to them, all out war was all that remained, and the "Fursecution" had begun.
Ever since the assassination of said president, every able bodied furry has either challenged the humans, only to lose their lives in the end, or been on the run from those that pursue us, most notably the strongest faction among the human populace; the furry liberation church, or as their moniker that flies with their flags or adorns their pursuit suits, we've come to know and sometimes fear them as just nameless entities of the "FLC."
My name is Wolf Thompson and for the last two and a half years since the cure was invented, as our country has torn itself apart with its bigotry and shameful fear of us, eventually leading to it recession from the rest of the world, I've learned to take up arms against the FLC and have for a year now led my own resistance movement against the oppressive church, hoping to one day reestablish order in this chaotic time.
Even as I write this now in my journal, I can't help but wonder what went wrong. I was only trying to help people. I just wanted to save lives as penance for a tragedy in my life, and was turned into this Grey Wolf for my trouble. Now I find myself pencil in one paw, my other paw on my holster, ready to lead my fellow furries into the heart of the city of Sensation, a desolate human colony that guards EVO Industries where it is said by word of muzzle that a cure for us has been invented, a cure which humans would rather hide from us through fear they will need it themselves one day.
All I want is to be human again. I'm tired of running. My paws are full of scars and cuts and blood, my left ear half blown away after narrowly escaping the gun shot from a shotgun, my fur smells of gun smoke and dirt, and all I see is pain from healing me of it. I just want to go home.