Violent Ecstasy
#1 of Violent Ecstasy
Violent Ecstasy
*disclaimer. Although this does not contain yiff directly, the sequels will for sure.
The cold metal felt crisp in the darkness of the early morning. With the sun still behind the mountains the only things visible were those that had lights coming off themselves; houses, cars, furs on their phones.
The phones and IPods moving around in the campus quad create a mesmerizing light show of white. The fact that anyone was even around the school was astounding as it was only 4 o' clock and usually everyone would still be asleep in their beds but at least seventy visible furs were socializing, exchanging hugs, or lighting up smokes before they had their classes.
From atop my position in the bell tower nobody could make out my shape or that there was even anything but a big bell inside the small space. All that was inside was a large hollow bronze bell used for decoration and a hatch that had a ladder all the way down to a maintenance room which contained the boiler and such.
I sit on the edge feeling the wind blow through my fur as my tail waves around from the breeze. The sun still hasn't shown signs of rising and the darkness still envelopes the complex. More furs start to arrive and huddle into their posses and cliques and whatever the fuck they call them.
They all look the same from the top of the tower but through the spotting scope I can make out there general features: breed, height, cup size, etc. And although a scope is just visual I can tell by their mannerisms, movements, and words what they have inside. Whether it be brains, balls, brawn, or blood.
The cloud cover is immense and a fog starts to roll in from the adjacent canyons. I thought sun would ruin my cover but sun decided to miss the party. The clouds are black as pitch and I'm surprised it doesn't start pouring. And the fog doesn't add much, I feel like I'm in a Scooby-Doo cartoon where I just pull a saw out of my ass and start cutting a cube out.
I am still sitting on the edge of the bell tower and the sun still hasn't made an appearance. Now it's about eight in the morning and I flip my feet back onto the solid floor and move towards the black bag in the corner. I unzip the long flap and flip it over.
I pull out the lower receiver and flip it into the upper. I bolt them together and shake it a bit to make sure it will hold. I then pull the barrel out and drop it in the upper twisting it into place and screwing it in tight.
On the side of the bag I pull out two fifteen round magazines containing .308 Winchester ammo that fires from my conversion kit inside the AR. Winchester .308 is relatively the same as NATO 7.62 but a "civilian" version.
The bipod below my barrel comes out and stables itself on the edge as I slide a magazine into the bottom.
The magazine clicks and the bolt locks forward putting the rifle into a dangerous mode except for the safety that is still locked down. The long suppressor screws into the threading and adds another six inches to the barrel and the overall length of the rifle.
On the top picatinny rail I have custom iron sights that have a V-shape to the back and a single line at the front of the rail. It works well for my needs and is accurate enough to about 500-600 yards or something like that. For a shooter I've never been good at estimating range without a scope.
I can see my target and I don't know whether or not it knows if I'm watching it. It usually does but I took extra caution to try to do my best of not being spotted before It actually comes into my range. Its crawling low with its long arms all the way out and its wrists pointing directly down so it's almost at a not possible way to crawl.
Its within my range but I can't just shoot it without it. Where would the sport be in that?
It comes to the edge of the building its on top of and starts bobbing its head up and down almost to a beat. The weird thing is that it's not bobbing its head to look over the edge, it's just bobbing up and down about once every second. Just to clarify it is a human or was a human or still is some kind of human type of thing.
So I'm going to picture this for you, imagine a human male about 5"9' with no hair and no clothes left on its body, pale as a snowman on the bottom but on the top about as dark as asphalt. Lying on the ground using only its fingers to prop itself up with the knees inverted so it has its feet flat on the ground. Now imagine it at a dance club bobbing its head like an idiot.
All of a sudden the bobbing stops and it completely seizes it muscles in one swoop flexing everything it can it freezes solid. I raise the rifle to my shoulder and wait for it to make a move. The head slowly cocks left beyond normal parameters and looks me dead in the face from 1000 feet. I flick the safety and wait for it to release its tension.
The head begins to bob at the same rate but with the head completely turned. I still don't know if it sees me or if it's just looking at the tower.
I look at my watch and hear the faint *click...click....click...* I look back at the thing and it dawns on me.
It's listening to my watch.
I bring the stock to my shoulder and line the sights right above its head. I pull the trigger just as it tries to move over the edge. The bullet moves faster then it anticipated and it slams into the side of his skull pulling the insides out and dropping his body limp.
Those fucking thingies don't stop coming do they. Well that's why I don't care for them.
I disassemble the rifle, pick up the empty casing, and rearrange it back in the bag.
I pull the hatch open and slide down the ladder with ease before making my way through the dark boiler room towards the large metal door that I lock behind me.
The majority of the students start to show up and they pay no more attention than they should as a lacrosse stick dangling from my hand makes the bag look like it's for gear. I pass through the main entrance gate and head towards the parking lot without attracting any unneeded attention from the large security guard. My car is sitting in the back of the lot and is a beautiful work of art: a Volkswagen TDI diesel, matte black, custom, two seater, three door, hatchback.
I slip into the driver's side and slide my hands across the integrated carbon fiber dash and wheel. The feeling jolts my system and I think always will. The key turns and the engine purrs to life. I shift into first and drop the pedal and slide out the exit leaving the security guard waving to slow down.
I look in the mirror and watch him wave frantically as I slam into second and third then fourth and eventually leveling at fifth. As the world flies past me at a "reasonable" rate a thought comes through my mind: Why do I try to protect the very people I loathe the most?
The answer is that I....I...I really don't know why. Hell the pay is damn fine and so are the women. Well the women don't come with the job but, shit, pussy is great.
My pay comes from sources that would like to see things go through or people that want or do not want other people to exist. Simple enough, I kill I get paid, I smuggle I get paid, I protect I get paid.
Most of my life I set the example for a cold hearted son of a bitch. I don't particularly say I'm proud of what I do. I feel as though if nobody else is going to do it then I might as well sack up and do it. The same goes for the roommates. Well not really roommates but "friends".
I've got to give them that, they are my friends and they are the ones I trust. My friends are probably the only people in the entire world that I trust and they are some fucking great people.
I hitch a left into a large business complex type area. Its just a puzzle of multiple office looking buildings with cool names such as "AreoCon" or "Plexon" the type of companies that you've never heard of and are sure that what they produce is more horrid then the generic names.
Even in the early morning the buildings are completely silent with maybe only one or two cars parked in the lots. Even though my residence for the past two years has been here, I have never seen people in large numbers venture in and out of there pearly white embrace.
One of the buildings is especially pearly white and I pull into the space reserved for me and me only. There are no other cars in the lot and the silence is almost scary as the dark sky only adds to the scariness. I step out and start a jog to the door just as the sky starts to crackle and boom with heavy drops slapping against my head. I make it inside and immediately I'm tackled to the ground by one of the few people I can trust.
I look up and stare into the eyes of the blonde human girl who linebacked me like I'm a ragdoll. She has dark black eyes and long luscious lashes with smooth face always covered in a small smile. Below her head is one of the most humanly perfect designs possible in any way.
She holds my hands out flat and straddles my lap like I'm a horse, which I'm not.
"Hi Vanilla." She says in a voice sweet enough to give you cavities.
"Damn it don't call me that." I bark.
I push up with my knees and arms and begin to lift her easily off my body as she giggles violently. Mid-air I throw her back onto her feet and lift myself off the ground with the heavy bag. Just as I pick myself up she strips away my bag and stands on her tippy-toes to throw her arms around my neck and embrace me in a long and passionate kiss.
I open my eyes wide and pull back wondering why she kissed me and why I pulled back.