FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hey guys! Well here it is, my first post! XD After what seems like forever writing the first chapter, its finally done and put up! Hopefully you guys will enjoy it! I went out on a limb with this story, trying to use a normal fur, instead of a soldier or something, and having interesting things happen to him. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think. I would love to hear your thoughts and get better as I write more. :) Hope you enjoy! XD

Also, a special thanks to my friend invudontseeme: Thank you for being my friend, supporting me in posting my stuff, and putting up with all my questions! :) *hugs strongly* THANKS!!!

-Feral

Aimless Fate

Chapter 1

The canine turned in his bed. He yawned, stretching for his phone on the nightstand beside his bed. Pressing a button, the screen lit up. The clock read 1:09 p.m. Sitting up, the canine eased out of his bed and walked to his bathroom. Along the way, he glanced at the few pictures he had framed. His favorite was of himself, with his friends, Mike and Michelle. It had been taken at the nightclub, Underworld, in the nearby city of Clearwater. All three had their arms over each other, sweaty, covered with glowstick fluid, and with drinks in their hands. Stray smiled at himself and his friends. They were all smiling from ear to ear, in the picture. He was the mutt between Mike, the fox, and Michelle, the husky. Stray was actually happy in the picture, not pretending to be, as he usually did. With his two best friends, alcohol, blinding lights, and good music, who wouldn't be? Stray wished everything could be so nice. He missed Michelle. The three had been inseparable throughout school. Even in college they had hung out frequently. Now, Stray hardly saw Michelle. A more recent picture showed her working as a bartender at Underworld. She was spinning a bottle in one hand, while getting ready to pour with the other. Michelle was pretty good, although Stray had no idea where she learned how to do that.

He smiled remembering that night with his friends, as he went into his bathroom. Looking into the mirror, he stared at his black fur. He stretched, yawning loudly. Running his hand through his hair, he saw his green eyes looking back at him. His gaze was drawn to the white mark across his left eye. A white crescent cut through his solid black fur, like a bright moon over his eye. He sighed, looking over himself. He was a mutt, a mix breed, looking like half coyote and half husky. Stray wasn't even sure what mix he was! His parents had died when he was just a pup. He knew his mother was a husky, but his father. . . The canine shook his head, throwing off thoughts of his parents and splashed water on his face. It felt good on his soft fur. He began to dress, finding his clothes. After putting on some torn up jeans and a black tee, the canine picked up his phone. He slipped his keys in his pocket as he touched his friend's name. "Hello?" the voice asked.

"Mike, what are you doing?"

"Killing time," the voice replied, "You just wake up, Stray?"

"Yup," Stray answered.

"Must be nice," the voice on the other side said.

"Hey! We don't all have a mansion." he laughed.

"It's not a mansion!" Mike said, "Just a house."

"Better than my apartment," the canine muttered.

"Hush! Are you coming over or what?"

"I'm already down the stairs. Be in the truck in a few, later." He hung up his phone, unlocking his truck. Mike was his best friend, and really his adoptive brother. Mike was a fox, from the East. His family came from some desert country across the ocean. Stray wasn't quite sure of the geography, but he knew the general area. He also knew that he had money. The canine wasn't sure how, but he did. They didn't flaunt it, and his house wasn't a mansion, rather a large, nice house like Mike said. The land it was on, however, was outside of town and not cheap. There was also the fact that they had their own bodyguard. Stray didn't worry about it though. Mike's family had basically taken him in. He thought of how he came to know Mike as he drove up his friend's long driveway.

He had been young, only a pup, when his parents were murdered. His father had told him to run, find help, and get away. Stray had listened. Running, terrified and in tears, he fled into the rainy night. He had no idea of what he was going to do. The scared pup ran to the park, which was not far from his home on the outskirts of the city. Stray never looked back, even after hearing the gunshots. The pup ran, the rain soaking his fur, until he reached the park. He finally came to a tree overlooking a small lake. Collapsing, the young canine, cried under the tree. The rain continued falling from the sky. A fox, also taking refuge near the tree, noticed the distressed pup, and came over to him. "What's wrong?" He asked, touching the pup's shoulder. Stray flung himself backwards, splashing on the flooded ground, eyes wide at the tall fox in front of him. "It's ok little one." The fox said reaching out. Having no energy to run, Stray had just sat there, cold and shivering in the frigid rain. "Come with me," the fox said, covering Stray with his jacket, "Let's get out of the rain."

The fox had taken Stray to his place and Stray told him everything- everything but his name. The frightened pup was afraid to let the fox know it. The fox was named Sean, and he was Mike's bodyguard. He would later tell Stray that the tree overlooking the lake was his special place, where he went to think. His fur was so light; it was almost white, instead of tan. He gave the canine his new name, "Stray", when the pup refused to tell him his real name. Years later, Stray chose to forget his real name, linking it with the loss of his parents. Stray became his permanent name. Soon, he was adopted by Sean, and he and Mike became friends.

Stray smiled at how his life had been changed. The furs who murdered Stray's parents were never found, but Sean had convinced him to let it go. He had taught Stray about karma, and to let fate deal with certain things. 'Look at what I have now,' Stray thought as he turned the truck's engine off and stepped out. His boots crunched on the gravel, as he walked to the front door of Mike's house. It was nice, large enough to be comfortable, yet small enough to be homely. A large lawn surrounded the house, with woods bordering the property. Stray remembered he and Mike had been scolded for running into them when they were younger. It was a nice place; he thought, away from the city. It was a peaceful retreat.

Mike opened the door. "About damn time you got here!" he said playfully, hitting Stray lightly as he stepped inside. Mike was a brown fox, thin with black tattoos over his arms and shoulders. The tattoos twisted and curved around, like artistic vines, with runes interspersed within them. They were tribal and represented things in the foxes' culture, such as luck and wisdom, Mike had stated. He wore a black tank top, showing off his tattoos. The neck was cut low, allowing Mike's hourglass necklace to be seen. He never took it off, for any reason. It was some sort of family heirloom, or something Stray remembered.

"Traffic," Stray shrugged, jumping at his friend and making him flinch.

"Whatever, you just don't want to get dominated on Xbox!" Mike jeered.

"No crying when you lose, pup." Stray retorted. As they made their way to the game room, they met Sean in the hallway. "Hello, Sean." Sean nodded, looking at Stray with his dark eyes. He passed the friends and walked off. When Stray looked back, the light fox had disappeared, a habit of his. Sean had always been mysterious and would vanish occasionally. Stray had lived with the bodyguard until he was old enough to look after himself. Sean was a quiet fox. He never really said much and it bothered Stray sometimes. He was always doing something though. If he wasn't working out, he was reading, or sleeping. He may not have spoken much, but he thought plenty, his deep eyes masking his thoughts. Stray looked up to Sean, however. The fox was pretty much his father and Stray had grown up thinking he was invincible, that he could protect him and his new family from anything. Stray still somewhat believed that to this day. He never got use to his disappearing act however.

Stray shook it out of his mind; he had a game to win. "Where's my controller? I can't use those smooth sticks, you seem to like." The black canine asked, sitting in his chair.

"Here it is, douche bag. Now, stop whining." Mike said, handing his friend the controller. "What are we playing first?"

Stray thought for a moment, "How about that failure of a shooter everybody plays? I need to rank up for my new gun anyways." The fox turned the system on, and started the game. Minutes later, the room was filled with gunshots, explosions, and obscenities.

"That's right! Sit down!" Stray yelled jumping out of his comfy chair. Returning to his chair, he let out a high pitched scream as another player shot his character.

Laughing, Mike called out to his friend, "That wouldn't happen if you didn't suck!"

"Shut up! Look at the board. I'm sorry, who's at the top?" Stray almost choked on his drink when Mike jumped up with a loud curse, and almost spiked his controller into the floor. "Who sucks now, noob?"

"Want me to kick your ass?"

"Please, I'd love that." The canine smirked. The two friends played for most of the afternoon. They stopped to eat, after Stray almost broke a controller when one of their online matches lagged out. Mike had some burgers that they grilled. The fox threatened to stab his friend, when the canine acted like he was going to trip him in the kitchen. He retaliated by shaking Stray's soda can when he wasn't looking. He howled with laughter when the can spewed, spraying the canine with sticky fluid. After Stray cleaned up, and hit Mike with a well aimed empty can, the two returned to their game room. Instead of playing video games however, they decided to listen to music. Mike pressed a button on his remote, and the surround sound filled the room with music. The friends talked as they listened to metal and dubstep.

Stray spent the whole day with his friend, hanging out and not worrying about anything. This was his and Mike's routine, ever since they were pups. They did everything together. Stray couldn't have asked for a better friend. When he had been picked on in school for being different, Mike had stood up for him. One day, some kid had been teasing Stray, calling him a mutt. The pup kept saying Stray didn't belong, that he was different. Mike had stepped in and, without hesitation, punched the kid. Stray had never seen the shy fox do anything like that. It was usually the other way around, with him holding Stray back. After the pup had run off, Mike hugged his friend. Then he had told Stray that even though he was different, he was his brother. It was the first time Stray had felt accepted.

It was a great day. First, the pair had played Xbox, filling the house with their raucous laughter and yelling. Then, they had grilled burgers for dinner, eating until they could barely move. Finally, they had put on the radio, listening to metal and dubstep, and talked about whatever came to mind. After hours off relaxing and enjoying the day, Stray finally decided to leave. He wished every day could be just as good, but it was the weekend, and come Monday, back to work. "Well, I guess I'll see you later." Mike said, walking Stray outside. The sun was just sinking over the horizon, making the sky orange. Stray's keys jingled as he swirled them around his finger.

"Yeah, you better be ready for our next game though, that was just sorry!" Stray taunted, smiling. He opened his truck door.

"You got lucky!" The fox said, laughing and giving him the finger, "and I still think the singer from Dearly Beloved is hotter than the bassist from Wolves of Eventide!"

"Whatever!" Stray laughed, cranking his truck and heading towards home. He chuckled to himself, glad he and Mike were friends, and imagining the hot, she-wolf bassist from his favorite band. Stray didn't make many friends, but the ones he did, he kept for life and would do anything for them. The drive back to his apartment was uneventful, just listening to metal while the city lit up for the night. While the nocturnal city population woke up, Stray concentrated on what he would do for the rest of the night. He had the morning off from work, so he could stay up a little later tonight. The tired canine could prop up in his worn out couch, fix him some Long Island Tea, and watch movies or read until he fell asleep. Sighing, Stray realized his life wasn't much, but he was content. The bills got paid, he was free to do whatever he wanted, and nobody bothered him for the most part. 'Although a female companion would be nice.' He thought, feeling kind of lonely. Stray didn't date often. In fact, he didn't interact with others if he could help it. He was just happier alone, something most people couldn't understand. The canine cast the thought away, arriving at his apartment. Leaving his truck and heading up the stairs, he headed to his door.

The key slid into the lock and Stray twisted, unlocking his door. Stepping inside his dark apartment, he slid his keys in his left pocket, shut the door, and hit the lights.

"Hello," a voice said.

"Shit!" was all Stray could manage, seeing a large, red wolf stretched out on his couch. The wolf was smiling, looking directly into Stray's eyes. In the wolf's paw, was a pistol, pointed at Stray.

"Don't do anything stupid and you might live," the wolf said, still smiling. Another wolf stepped beside Stray, holding a knife. Stray's heart pounded and his blood ran cold. He was beginning to shake. Looking around his apartment, he noticed it had been trashed. There was also a third wolf standing in his bedroom door. "Here, why don't you sit down?" the wolf with the gun asked, motioning for Stray to sit beside him. Stray walked towards him, having no choice, trying to keep his composure. His thoughts swirled, trying to find a way out of this. He sat, eyes locked with the wolf. "You look tense." the wolf commented, laughing, as his friends laughed with him.

"What do you want?" Stray growled. The wolf with the knife stood beside him.

"Well, we want you," said the wolf, matter-of-factly. The wolf beside Stray pulled an elastic band from his pocket and slid it up Stray's arm, tying it tightly.

"Why?" Stray asked, trying not to show his fear. He fought to keep his breathing steady and his body from shaking. The wolf holding the gun never stopped smiling. He leaned closer to Stray, giving him a good view of the gun.

"Let us worry about that," the wolf smiled, "is he ready?" the wolf asked his companion.

"Yes." His companion answered, placing a syringe at Stray's bulging vein. "Night, night, pup!" he growled, forcing the clear liquid into Stray. Stray felt his heartbeat begin to slow as his vision faded.

***************************

Stray could hear his own breathing. He opened his eyes and strained to see. Darkness was everywhere. Something tickled Stray's face. He realized it was carpet, old, musty carpet. With a soft groan, Stray tried to push himself up. Something rolled him over and a gun was placed inches from his muzzle. "Finally awake?" a voice asked. Stray gritted his teeth; knowing it was the smiling wolf, and remembering his predicament. "Good. Here's the plan, mutt. We know you're close to the light fox, the family bodyguard. You are going to call him and give him the routine, 'I'm being held hostage, do as they say or I die bullshit'. Tell him to go to your apartment, unarmed. Tell him to surrender to my guys. If he does, he will be unharmed. You will live, too. After that, my friend with the knife is going to stay here with you, while we go inside your friend's house and kill him and his family. Be a good pup and listen to us and you will live, I promise." The wolf said, teeth gleaming in the dim light. Stray started shaking. Mike, his brother, was in danger. Sean couldn't help because of Stray. Stray's stomach knotted. He realized that he was the reason his family was helpless. No! They couldn't die because of him! He wouldn't let that happen. "What do you say?" the wolf asked, staring into Stray's eyes with his cold, golden eyes.

"Fuck you!" Stray spat, with every ounce of bravado he had. The smiling wolf growled, kicking Stray hard in his ribs. As he doubled over, trying to breathe, the wolf jammed the gun to his cheek, pushing his face into the floor.

"Look you little bitch!" he growled, fangs showing, "You will make the call." The wolf reached up and slammed the butt of the handgun under Stray's ribs. Stray felt the air leave his lungs, not able to make a sound. "Next time you defy me, my friend cuts you. Understand? Piss me off and I may just take you in with us and make you watch as we kill your friend." Stray focused on breathing again, not the pain in his chest- or the fact that he was in Hell currently. The smiling wolf watched as Stray lay, unable to move. He took a cell phone from his jacket pocket and gave it to Stray. Stray noticed it was his and, despite the events of tonight, the screen wasn't cracked. "Call the fox." The smiling wolf commanded. Stray managed to sit up. It was hard to find Sean's name with his hands shaking so much. He finally pulled the name up. Stray just stared for a moment. He was about to seal his family's fate. After pressing this name, it was over. They would die. Stray's mind frantically searched for an escape, any escape, but there wasn't one.

"Hurry up!" the smiling wolf growled, threatening another blow to Stray. Stray felt a knot in his throat. He closed his eyes, letting a tear roll down his cheek.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, pressing Sean's name.

Sean answered on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Sean listen, I've been kidnapped. Go to my apartment. Go unarmed, alone, and surrender to the guys there. If you do as they say, neither of us will die tonight." There was silence. Stray's heartbeats counted the seconds.

"Stray-" Sean started. The smiling wolf yanked the phone away and hung up.

"Well, that's that, let's go." With that, he popped open the doors on the other side of the space. Stray realized they had been inside a van the whole time. The smiling wolf and another wolf got out, shutting the doors behind them. Stray was left alone in the darkness, with the wolf holding the knife. The wolf sat opposite Stray, playing with his knife. While Stray sat there, something clicked into place in his mind. They were in a van. The smiling wolf and his partner were walking to Mike's house. That meant they were near! Stray's heart lifted. If he could escape, he could warn them! One problem stood in his way - the wolf with the knife. Stray's heart pounded and his breathing picked up. He didn't have much time. If he could move quick, knock the knife away, he'd have a chance. Stray took a breath to steady himself. He had one chance at this, if he failed, it was over. He locked eyes with the wolf, keeping the knife in his peripheral vision. The wolf just sat there, with a smirk, the knife in his hand. When Stray focused his eyes on him, he leaned back, moving his hand- and the knife, to the side.

_ There!_ Without thinking, Stray kicked as hard as he could at the wolf's wrist. His boot slammed it into the wall of the van with a loud Thunk! Stray thought he felt bone snap. As the wolf howled in pain, the knife fell from his hand. Stray leapt forward, one hand curled into a fist aimed at the wolf's throat, the other grabbing for the dropped knife. The wolf saw Stray coming, but Stray was too quick. His punch landed in the wolf's throat. The wolf fell over, retching, as Stray grabbed the knife. With one last look at the wolf, struggling to get up, he slashed the knife across the wolf's throat. Blood sprayed over the van's floor. Stray stood, catching his breath. He had just taken a life. He had just knowingly killed someone else. The wolf's eyes stared at him, as his blood poured from his neck. Stray's hands were shaking uncontrollably, and his heart felt like it would burst. Shaking his head violently, Stray forced himself to forget about it for the moment. 'Can't dwell on it, Mike's in danger!'He thought. Opening the van's doors, he jumped out. Looking around, Stray saw trees everywhere. They had to be in the woods near Mikes' house. The bastards had snuck in to get a quick entry and a quick get-away. Now, Stray had to find Mike's house. Glancing around, Stray noticed there were lights coming through some of the trees. Stray sprinted in that direction.

Stray ran. He crashed through the woods clumsily. He didn't care. He had to reach Mike. Stray's foot caught on a root and he fell. Cursing, he pushed himself up and regained his momentum. Branches clawed at his face and arms. He did not care. He had to reach Mike before it was too late. Looking ahead Stray could see the house now, just through the next trees- Bang! The sound echoed through the woods, sending birds to the night sky in every direction. Stray nearly fell again, stopping in his tracks. 'No, no, NO!' His thoughts screamed. He ran again, as fast as he could. Stray made it to Mike's lawn. The front door had been kicked open, so he made for it. Stray panted, he was halfway to the door- Bang! Bang! Two more shots. "Fuck!" Stray breathed, reaching the door.

The house was quiet. Every light was on. It was still, as if the house was empty. 'If only it was- 'Stray thought. It was like the gunshots had taken all the sound from the area. Stray couldn't even hear his own panicked breathing. His mind raced, trying to decide what to do. It ran through the situation in less than a second. 'The two wolves were here, still in the house. Mike and his parents were most likely dead. All I have is a knife- against two wolves with handguns'. Stray didn't like the facts, but they were true. He had failed- his family- his best friend- both were dead. It was his fault. Now- now the bastards were going to pay.

Stray slowly moved through the foyer, knife clutched in his hand. Surprisingly, he was calm. Nothing mattered now. He was going to kill these bastards. If not, they would kill him. It didn't matter to Stray, either way; he knew what he was doing. Suddenly, there was the sound of something breaking upstairs. Stray focused his breathing, and crept up the stairs toward the sound.

"Come on, let's go!" A voice urged.

"Shut up!" the other growled, and Stray knew instantly who it was, "We have time. The mutt is still in the woods. No one is coming. Let's take what we can find before we kill him and leave." The wolves were in the master bedroom. Stray knew he could slip in the study, located before the bedroom, and not be seen. He quickly snuck in the room, glimpsing the intruders, from a crack he left in the door.

"I'm going downstairs to look." The third wolf said, walking towards the stairs. Stray had another wild idea. Hell, it had to work, otherwise he was screwed. The wolf casually walked towards the stairs, getting nearer to the study. 'Here we go',Stray breathed, 'now or never.' Stray burst out of the study, right in front of the red wolf.

"What the-", was all he said, before Stray grabbed the hand with the gun and twisted it behind the wolf's back. Turning him to face the bedroom, Stray put the knife to the wolf's throat. He glared at the smiling wolf.

"Well well, this is unexpected!" the wolf said with his sickening smile. Stepping into full view of Stray, he looked at his partner, held by Stray. "That's cute, you taking a hostage. Do you want my gun?" he smiled, offering the gun to Stray. Minutes passed, as the two canines stood opposite each other. Deciding he had waited enough, the wolf raised the gun with his cruel smile, "Too bad, I don't care about him." With that, there was a loud Bang! and Stray's hostage cried out. Stray's eyes were wide, as his hostage's lifeless body slid to the ground. The wolf laughed. "Now what, mix-breed? You're plan is ruined. If you give up, I'll execute you like I did your friend. Quick and painless."

Fury flooded Stray. He wasn't sure what happened next. He only knew that he had picked up the gun from the dead wolf and had leaped over the banister. His boots hit the floor hard and he tucked into a roll, running for the kitchen. The smiling wolf howled with laughter. "Run! Run little puppy! You have nowhere to go! I'll catch you, and when I do, you'll suffer, I promise." The wolf made his way down the stairs, casually strolling to the kitchen. Stray was taking cover behind the counter, praying he wasn't about to die.

The wolf stepped into the kitchen. "Hungry? I hope you like whatever you're eating because it's your last meal pup!" Stray took a breath, readying the gun. He could tell where the wolf was from his voice. Once he broke cover, he had to be quick and accurate. 'Here goes nothing!'Stray thought, standing up. It happened in slow motion. Stray stood, looking at the wolf. Their eyes locked. Stray put the sights on the wolf, as the wolf's gun drifted towards him. Stray squeezed the trigger. Gunshots exploded in the room. For a brief second, chaos erupted in the small room, and then the silence returned.

Stray stood, shaking immensely. There was a sharp pain in his left shoulder. Stray looked and saw blood soaking his shirt and running down his arm. It felt like it was on fire. Ignoring the pain, Stray made his way to where the wolf had stood. The wolf lay on the floor, panting. Blood was collecting on the floor. Three holes were in the wolf's left chest. He looked up at Stray, moving his right arm, the gun still in his hand. Stray put his foot on the wolf's wrist.

The wolf still smiled. "You-" he coughed, "You don't have the balls-"

Stray looked dead into the wolf's golden eyes, pure hatred filling his vision. He brought the sights on the wolf's face.

"Fuck- you!" Stray pulled the trigger.

Stray dropped the gun. It was hard for him to breathe. Pain burned in his arm where he had been shot. The smiling wolf, the one who had started this nightmare, was dead. None of that mattered. Mike was dead. Mike's parents were dead. Stray's family was dead. The worst part was that this was the second time it had happened. Almost 20 years after losing his biological parents, he had lost his adoptive ones, too. Stray closed his eyes, failing to hold back his tears. He collapsed, sobbing. When he could open his eyes again, he noticed something the wolf was wearing. A gold hourglass, with two diamonds for the glass, on a gold chain was around his neck. Stray crawled to the wolf. He took the hourglass in his hand. "This doesn't belong to you, bitch." He growled, as he removed the necklace. Standing up, he placed the necklace around his own neck.

Stray searched the house for his friend's body. Opening the doors to the living room, he found it. Mike's body laid face up, staring at the ceiling. His parents' bodies were in front of him, together. Stray stepped over to his friend- his brother. Kneeling, he saw the hole between his eyes. Stray screamed at the ceiling, fresh tears flowing from his eyes. He screamed for what felt like forever, howling until he was hoarse. Why did Fate hate him? Why did it torture him? What had he done to deserve any of this?

Stray screamed at the sky. Wailing, he continued, cursing Fate and Karma. When he was finally spent, he looked at his friend's lifeless eyes. "I'm sorry." He cried, "I'm sorry I got you killed. Sorry I couldn't save you. Sorry for everything. I never deserved you and your family. I'm so sorry." Stray closed Mike's eyes. He made his way to Mike's parents, doing the same. Finding enough strength to move, Stray decided he needed to get away from here. He needed to leave and never come back. He wanted to forget this nightmare ever happened. Stray went to the garage. Turning on the lights, he grabbed the keys to Mike's Corvette. Stray yanked its door open and cranked it. The engine roared. Backing out of the garage, Stray turned towards the driveway. For a few minutes, the only sound was the metal on the stereo and Stray's breathing. Where was he going to go? He couldn't go to his place to get anything, and Sean- Sean was probably dead already. Stray gripped the steering wheel and yelled. He'd figure something out later, but now, he needed to get away. Stray threw the car into gear, let off the clutch, and hit the gas. Rocks flew behind the car as Stray sped out of the driveway, and into the night.