FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Goddess of Predation looked down on the world she'd helped create and growled. The sapient beings of the world had forsaken her, no longer did they hunt and slay one another. No, they corralled dumb beasts and cut them up to wrap in plastic and sell at supermarkets.

She would stand for this "civilization" no longer. No, they would see for themselves just how fragile the systems they'd created were. The Goddess drew a claw across one of her limbs, releasing a thin stream of ichor. She flicked this ichor out onto the world, letting it rain down onto the sophonts who thought they didn't need her.

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Angela felt something *plop* onto her head just as she was reaching for the electronic lock on the employee entrance to Rawrbucks. She looked up frantically for the source of the wetness but saw neither clouds nor birds anywhere. Cautiously, the red fox reached up to touch the top of her head, she ran her fingers through her blonde hair, but felt nothing there. Figuring it was just a freak raindrop that dried already she sighed and waved her ID in front of the lock again.

She walked in and found her apron, just as she was starting to tie it on she heard the manager cursing in the backroom. Knowing what was about to come next she hung the apron back up and turned towards the door. "Hey you!" Mr. Procyn shouted. "Give me a hand with this!"

The rotund middle-aged raccoon was where he usually could be found on delivery day, in the back of the truck he'd driven himself from the distribution center because he was too cheap to pay someone else to deliver their supplies, attempting to shove a couple hundred pounds of coffee beans onto the loading dock. Angie rolled her eyes while her boss was looking away, that couldn't be good for his back but he kept insisting on doing this every week. She braced herself on the dock, reached down under the box and lifted.

The box lifted straight up off the floor and slammed into the ceiling of the truck, Angie staggered back, holding the two hundred-pound box in both hands as if it were full of packing peanuts and air. Carefully she lowered the box down to eye level, it looked like a normal cardboard box but it didn't feel like it was full of anything. "Uh, Mr. Procyn," she said nervously, setting the box down next to her. "This box feels a little light to me."

The raccoon, apparently not having seen anything, slowly stood up and looked at the box, "I didn't notice any difference," he said. "Maybe I'm just getting old, open it up and start weighing."

The vixen sliced the tape on either side of the box with a claw, then grabbed one half of the lid and attempted to tear the long part of the tape. Instead the cardboard lid ripped off the box. Angie shrugged and pulled out what was supposed to be a forty-pound bag but felt like a bubble pack. Just to be sure she dropped it on the scale.

The pan of the scale dipped down and the electronic readout told her the bag weighed slightly more than forty pounds. Disbelieving, she pulled the bag off and put the rest of the box on the scale. It let out an unsettling creaking sound and read 160 pounds.

As Angie tried to make sense of it she smelled the scent of baking goods coming from the kitchen. She concluded that her coworker, Sarah, must have come in and decided to go and see what she thought. The pigeon, or "rock dove" as she preferred to be called, had just put a tray of half-thawed croissants into the warmer when Angie walked in carrying the first bag of coffee. "Hey Sarah," the fox inquired. "Can you tell me how heavy this thing is?"

The pigeon shrugged and held out both wing-arms to take the bag. Angie passed the bag over one-handed and Sarah almost dropped it, the weighty bag dragging her thin arms towards the floor. "Oof, that's heavy all right," she said, gently setting the bag on the floor. "You know I've got hollow bones remember?"

"Well it felt really light to me today," Angie explained. "Like it was full of air instead of beans or something."

"Well, I wouldn't know since Mr. Procyn doesn't make me unload." Sarah looked up at Angie and pointed a wing-claw at the side of her beak. "Uh, Angie, you've got a little something right there."

Angie lifted a finger to her mouth and felt a bit of drool starting to leak out. Embarrassed she wiped it away quickly, but realized that she was feeling really hungry all of a sudden. No, not hungry,famished, as if hadn't eaten for days. "Sorry," she said in an attempt to explain. "I think I had too light a breakfast or something."

Sarah waved a wing towards the warmer. "Well, you can take one of these..." before she could finish her sentence Angie threw the door open, yanked out the tray of croissants, and grabbed one. "...when they're done."

Angie bit down on a ham-and-cheese croissant. The exterior was hot but the interior was still ice-cold. It was a little hard but she crunched through it easily, scarfing the whole thing down in three bites and then grabbing another. "Those are still half-frozen!" Sarah objected. "I guess you really were hungry."

Angie polished off a third croissant and held the tray out to Sarah. "Yeah, I guess I was. Weird, I hope Procyn's not too mad at me for eating all these."

"He'll probably just deduct them from your... OW!" Sarah reached out for the tray but yanked her wing-claws back almost immediately. "That's blazing hot! Doesn't that hurt you too?"

"What?" Angie set the tray down on the counter. "It's warm but not that hot."

"Oh really?" the pigeon looked at her claws, then turned them towards the fox. The skin between her fingers and claws was red. "Do these look okay?"

Angie held up her own hands as Sarah ran her claws under the sink, there was no sign of reddening or blisters on her. "Okay, that really is weird."

Before she could think any harder about it Mr. Procyn came in, "what are you just standing around for? The breakfast rush is coming!" Angie tossed the tray of croissants back in the warmer while Sarah wrapped her fingers in damp paper towels.

Angie got into the routine of setting up today's coffee and starting up the cash registers. The breakfast rush arrived just on time, flooding the cafe with furres of every shape and stripe. The fox took order after order for a solid hour, getting no complaints until _she_arrived.

A cockatiel with a propensity for making up the most complicated orders ever. And no matter what Angie or Sarah did she always found some reason to complain. Angie tried to keep up as the bird rattled off today's ridiculous order, she was just about to print out the receipt when the customer took a breath and started again. "...And then I'll also have an iced latte with one pump raspberry, two pumps strawberry..."

The customer behind her groaned audibly, another customer, a large black-bristled boar, got out of line and skipped five places to speak directly to the cockatiel. "Hey Karen!" he shouted. "You're not the only one here, some of us are starving."

The bird huffed indignantly, "my name's not "Karen." You get back in line and wait your-" she was cut off as the boar opened his jaws impossibly wide and clamped them over her head. Angie stared in shock and confusion as the swine slid down to the cockatiel's chest, then picked her up by the legs and lifted her upside-down. In a matter of seconds the customer from Hell had vanished down the boar's throat, the only traces of her existence left a few stray yellow feathers and the boar's protruding gut.

Angie kept her eyes on the boar as she tried to process what had just happened. It wasn't possible for furres to just... swallow one another whole right? Not even snakes could, their shoulders got in the way. Yet, the boar's gigantic stomach stood there in front of her, its' occupant squirming in a vain attempt to escape. Accomplishing nothing but prompting the predator to belch up a couple more feathers. "Tastes like chicken," he commented.

The other customers broke out of their reverie and started to scramble out the door, overpriced coffees forgotten. Angie continued to watch the pig's gut as it contracted, her fingers probing under the counter for the covered button that would alert the police when pressed.

Mr. Procyn came in from the back room just as Angie triggered the silent alarm. "What's all the commotion?" he inquired.

Sarah rushed past the raccoon, screaming "he ate her!"

"Who ate who?" Procyn looked over the crowd of screaming customers, eyes settling on the pig with his bloated and quivering stomach. "You're not serious?" he asked skeptically.

The boar walked up to Mr. Procyn, squishing his gut up against the manager. "Don't believe it?" he snorted. "How about you go see for yourself?" He started to shove the raccoon's head into his mouth.

Thinking fast, Angie looked around, saw the heavy cash register in front of her, and forced her fingers underneath it. The counter cracked and the bolts securing the register to it broke free as if the counter were made of cardboard. The till felt light as a feather in the fox's hands, but when she flung it at the boar it smacked into him like a brick, forcing him to spit Procyn out and knocking him into the window. Spiderweb cracks spread across the ceiling-to-floor window and the pig slowly staggered back to his feet as Angie climbed up onto the remains of the counter, crouched, and aimed. "Spit," she commanded, "her," she sprang, "out!" Angie slammed into the boar's stomach, crashing them through the weakened window onto the sidewalk outside.

The fox rolled on the concrete, feeling no pain from the impact. As she propped herself back up with one arm she noticed that her sleeve had been shredded by shards of glass, but she spotted no blood. Curious, she pulled a shard out of her sleeve, she could feel the sharp edges as she ran her fingers across them, but felt no pain, and saw no signs of blood.

The boar got up as she was examining the glass, equally unscathed. "You want her back?" he growled. "Have her!" He retched loudly two times, and on the third try a flood of stomach acid and half-digested bones spewed from his maw all over the fox. Where the acid met her skin Angie felt searing pain as it ate away at her skin and clothes, the first time she'd felt pain all day, she might have realized. As she was trying to shake off the acid she felt the boar clamp his jaws over her head and chest.

She gagged from his acrid breath as the fleshy walls closed around her. His tusks failed to pierce her skin, even as the acid burned holes in it but helped to pull her further in. The boar's collarbones expanded around her, letting her slide down his throat as he lifted her up. At the end of his throat a ring of muscles parted for Angie's head and she felt her eyes sting. She gasped involuntarily, the fumes making her throat burn. "Police... are coming," she groaned out.

The boar shoved Angie's legs down after the rest of her, forcing her to curl up in a fetal position on her back. After a few seconds in her fleshy prison liquid began to pool around her torso, making her skin burn even more as the fluids rose. "You won't get away with this!" she shouted weakly.

She felt the boar slap his stomach, impacting her burning side through the flesh walls. "It'll be too late for you."

Angie squirmed, trying to push herself back up the boar's throat even as the acid rose up to her neck. But the pain was too intense, her muscles were becoming liquid, her vision swam as she fought to remain conscious...