{"sf1_id":2056940,"sf2_id":"Rm0BPML1","title":"THE LATE REPENTANT","author":"LiveIron","words":1207,"posted_at":"2023-10-04T17:59:29.000Z","tags":["Anthrostate","Gun","Horror","Human","Pain","Size Difference","Spies \u0026amp; Secret Agents","Tiger","Tigress","firearm","posession"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2056940-the-late-repentant","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/Rm0BPML1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/de/fa/defa82a1-ec1c-4119-9021-65c5a5f1d26f","description":"Anon","content":"\\\u003e\"Global monitoring picked up a spike a few hours ago,\" Steele says.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou look through the photos of the old manor, made of brick and stone.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"We're doing a media check, but so far we haven't found anything to account for the rise we're seeing in psychonormal levels. Not a case of mass-formation fluctuations after a documentary or news segment, at least not one we can find.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou think back, trying to recall if you ever heard of this place -- the Mallet estate. The briefing documents Steele has given you don't ring a bell.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe sprawling grounds are tucked away in some state-owned swathe of forest, taken after the aging owner disappeared.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eFormer servants and groundskeepers ended up in Special Assignment or in the ground not long after. There were stories of secret meetings and passageways, guests that arrived and left at odd hours with even stranger habits and attire.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe State apparently didn't want anything to do with it, just as put off as everyone else.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eF.E.R.A.L.'s observations of the site revealed a definite psychonormative presence, but it'd stayed benign.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Your mission is recon, Hummingbird,\" Steel says. \"You go there, you use the recording instruments, and you leave. A scan of the grounds should be more than enough data.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou glance at the equipment you've been issued -- there's more there than the data collection gear.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eArmor, kinetic and psionic suppression charges.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAn expanded IFAK.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"In case it's not just nothing,\" Steele mutters. You nod, then load up.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"You'll be using vehicle 112,\" she says. \"The radio repeater should help if you come across any interference.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe tigress motions for you to wait after she hands you the keys, reaching into her coat.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou pause at the snap of buttons and straps. She offers her sidearm to you, a massive Tridentia.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"In case your friend isn't enough,\" she says softly.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHer eyes are gentle, but you can tell she's in no mood for discussion.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAt least it's not polymer.\n\n \n\n \n\n---\n\n \n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou can see why the old grounds have a reputation for the unnatural.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe road to the estate is overgrown, made of hard-packed gravel and stone. The forest surrounding it is largely old-growth and has been left wild.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDriving through it at dusk doesn't help.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eNor does the fact it's Fall.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eDark shapes of abandoned cars litter the woods on the way up.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTheir reflectors glint at you like eyes.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe walls of the estate proper loom up in your headlights after what feels like hours of twists and turns. The wrought-iron gate is open.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou flip down the PsyScope and switch off the car.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe entryway to the Mallet Estate awash in the scope's standard light blue color, built off old night-vision tech.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe various overlays and readouts are new -- and shielded from most paranormal energies the agency has come across, unlike digital systems.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Gate's open,\" you say into the radio, \"but I'm not getting any significant residual readings on it.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Proceed,\" Steele's voice crackles back. \"Last check-up team reported the same.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou adjust the gain on the repeater only to find it's already maxed out.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou grip the wheel tight and nudge the car through the breach, into the estate proper.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe grounds are dilapidated, dead leaves covering the grass. Young trees and bushes have sprouted up in the middle of the yard.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThose that were once maintained and shaped are now dead or have grown wildly out of proportion.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eMore cars are scattered about, but none of them are on the gravel road.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou note that they're of relatively modern make.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou stop near just before the parking circle, a large fountain between you and the front door.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe growing night air is crisp when you step out. You're glad the exposure suit is insulated.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou're pulling the multiphase scanner from the back seat when you hear the leaves rustle.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe wind is gentle. Too gentle.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou stare at the manor, focusing your ears.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSplintering wood.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSteel on steel.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAnd yelling, all faint.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou drop the scanner as figures round the fountain, the PsyScope beeping and highlighting them in purples and reds.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAs if you didn't know they were extrahuman.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Stay back!\" you shout.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThey don't stop shuffling towards you, pausing briefly when you summon Talia.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou hesitate, looking at their forms.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThey're anthros, almost normal looking save for their chests.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAll of them are bare, the fur gone as if it had been burned away, a red circle covering their sternum.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTheir claws and teeth enlarged, more animalistic.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAnd even through the night-vision, you can tell their eyes are hollow.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThey only make noise when you fire, snarling and squealing like demonic hogs as Talia's bullets dart through them.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTheir actions get more frenzied, their shambling gaits more firm. They lurch towards you with claws extended.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou backpedal and roll over the trunk of the car, pumping shot after shot into them.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe last one skitters around the car and almost swipes you, but misses and embeds its claws in the door.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBlood coats the vehicle when you put the creature down, spraying from the tiny bullet holes.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou take a breath, grimacing at the iron stench, and pull up the PsyScope.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"I've got contact,\" you say into the radio. \"Shit...\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSteele's response is garbled, but you take it as a request to confirm.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Corrupted civies of some sort. That or cultists with a lax dress code.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou catch 'stand by' from the radio.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou pretend you don't.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Heard more in the house, going in to secure.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSteele's growl is enhanced by the static.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Can't scan the grounds otherwise.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou flip the scope back down and head for the manor proper.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe sounds from earlier get louder as you approach.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSplintering wood.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eSteel on steel.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eCries of pain and anguish.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou run. More corrupted anthros burst through the main doors to meet you, others smashing through nearby windows.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eFortunately, point-shooting with a tiny handgun is easy and fast.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eEven if pulling the trigger hurts.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"They have no choice. You have no choice.\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eTalia's words help. But they don't absolve you of the guilt.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eAny of it.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe main foyer of the manor is bathed in torchlight and Psy signatures.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBodies of the transformed anthros litter the floor and crowd the space, all moving towards the two figures fighting on the grand staircase. One is large and wields a blade, the other a staff.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBoth are awash in paranormal energy.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou're about to yell when the larger figure cries out in pain.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e_There's no way._\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe grabs the transformed anthro that slashed her leg in one hand, flinging it across the room.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e_It can't be..._\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThen she lets out a guttural scream and slashes wildly at the staff-bearing figure, hitting only wood.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou flip up the PsyScope and stare in confusion.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Rebecca?\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe tigress' ear flicks.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eShe slashes at the latest wave of snarling anthros and pauses, her eyes widening.\n\n \n\n\\\u003e\"Anon?\"\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThen you see it.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eThe figure with the staff -- a human -- pulling something from his belt.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou react too slow, like you always do.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eHe's already pulled the pin.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eYou run towards her anyway, crashing through the throngs of feral anthros.\n\n \n\n\\\u003eBut you're too late\n\n \n\n\\\u003eJust like before.","series":{"name":"Negligent Discharge: Repent","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2055844-excommunicant.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2057866-pride-and-humility.json"}}