FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Author's Note : The following is a non-canon fanfiction on the Visceral/EA video game Dead Space. The following contains graphic scenes of a violent and sexual nature as well as harsh language. Readers are kindly asked to view at their own discretion.

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The image blurred for a moment, obscuring her face, causing him to lean closer a little distressed. His wide eyes flicked left and right to take in as much of the girl on the holo-vid screen as he could. He didn't want to miss a thing. He couldn't miss a thing.

And then the grains focused, smoothening out a bit. She was there, smiling at him. His heart settled at the sight of the nine year old cougar, her sunset yellow fur and short blonde hair. She was there for him to see... safe... content... happy. That was all that mattered.

She blinked her blue eyes twice before holding out her arms to him. "Look daddy! Look at me!"

"I see, sweetheart." Came his voice somewhere behind the camera filming the event. Even as he heard his own voice, the old man's lips moved in synch. "Go ahead."

The girl, his beautiful Tida span around on the spot, the flannel ends of her tutu playing in the wind as she rehearsed for her ballet-recital in their back yard. As she danced she called out.

"Daddy? Daddy! Can you see me? Daddy!"

"Yes, Tida, I..." he stopped. The video went blurry. The stream failed and all he saw was snow. "Tida? Honey?" static crept over the distortion that hissed violently in his ears. "Tida? Sweetheart?"

"Da... y... dadd..."

Her voice changed. Deeper. Her tone laced with seriousness... and then she was gone, replaced entirely.

"MICHAEL!"

His heart beating faster with the shock, Michael Chapel sat bolt upright, doing his best to take a few deep breaths. It was difficult with his arms strapped tight over his chest. He wanted to scratch his head, but his hands were bound under his armpits. The jacket binding his arms was uncomfortable and scratchy, but there was nothing to be done about it.

Chapel blinked away tears. The holo-vid screen was gone, like it had never been there. He was in a dark room, so dark he couldn't see the walls, only an illuminated desk in front of him. There were several things on the desk; a rubix cube, a small reading light, a couple of tools he was familiar with. The same tools he'd used as a systems engineer for the CEC ten years ago. A lifetime ago.

The past ten years hadn't been kind to the forty-one year old. His short dark hair had turned grey at the temples. There were deep crow's feet on the corners of his tired eyes. He'd lost a considerable amount of weight. He felt weak, doped up and tired all the time thanks to the drugs pumped in and out of his system on a daily basis. It wasn't fair. Why was he here? Why did this have to happen to him?

"We were losing you for a moment there, Mister Chapel." His voice again. That of Doctor Field.

Chapel did his best not to let out a bitter scowl. Just narrowing his eyes and gritting his sharp jaw, the human kept his gaze fixed on the table in front of him. Doctor Field, a grey furred anthropomorphic fox was sitting opposite him. In one hand was a holo-pod projecting a screen with various translucent notes for the doctor to read. His other was typing on the screen jotting down things and spinning sub-displays from one end to the other.

"We were talking about your confession." Field continued. "The confession to the murder of your wife. What was her name?"

"I didn't kill her." Chapel said hoarsely, hardly even recognising himself anymore.

"Yes you did, Mister Chapel. We've been through this." Field said in a tired, monotonous tone. Chapel wasn't the only one tired of these stories. "One day you just snapped. You used a plasma cutter to torture and kill her, and then you tried to hurt your daughter. We have been trying to find out for years why. But first, what was your wife's name?"

"No." Chapel hissed. "I would never hurt Tida... never!" his gaze snapped up as he struggled to rise to his feet. A pair of cuffs fitted to the side of his straight-jacket, in turn fixed to the chair which was bolted into the ground held him in place. "NEVER!" he bellowed.

"The police said otherwise. Your fingerprints were all over the murder weapon. We have a signed confession. What was her name, Mister Chapel? Your wife's name!" Field reminded.

Chapel was lost. He couldn't remember. Had he signed a confession? He couldn't remember. All the drugs... "I... I don't... its... I wouldn't. I would never." The human shook his head from side to side, chains rattling as he pulled the bonds taught. Too many nightmares. Too many torn realities. Too many edited scenarios... "My head... I can't remember. It's so full of stuff. So full of shit!" the cracks were showing, splitting through the darkness around him and spilling vibrant crimson light through the room.

"Focus, Mister Chapel!" Field leaned across the table now, putting down the holo-pod. "Her name!" he couldn't see it. Why didn't he see the cracks?

As Field was shouting and Chapel tried to shake it off, his vision narrowed. The darkness crept in further, consuming Field. In the background somewhere he was still shouting. "Chapel... Michael! Michael!" a loud ringing seemed to drown the psychologist out.

And then he looked up. She was sitting there on the table. The yellow furred cougar with blonde hair. The eyes were different. Light spilled from the empty sockets as blood seeped through the fur at her throat, staining her chest and the stark white bra she had worn that terrible night. That night he had found her... killed her?

No he hadn't...

She leaned closer.

Had he?

His wife, almost the spitting image of his daughter Tida, reached out and touched Chapel's face. Her mouth opened, spilling noise and light into the man's brain. He heard her voice hiss at him through the static.

"Remember my name..."

He tried, but what followed could only be described as agonising pain emanating from the depths of his very sanity...

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Dead Space: Eden

Reveille

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// Location Unknown, November 2511 [Earth Time]

Chapel was walking along the beach. The sand was warm under his bare feet. The sun beat down on his face. He felt refreshed, unlike what he had felt in little over a decade. His nostrils flared, taking in a deep lung-full of salty sea-breeze.

Something squeezed his hand. Opening his eyes, the man looked at the girl standing beside him. She was eighteen. A cougar. His daughter, Tida. She was dressed in a black bikini with a gauzy olive green wrap tied around her slender hips. Revealed to the world was her sexy hourglass frame any boy would drool over, and her slender legs that just seemed to go on forever, hardly something Chapel would have approved of in a normal situation. But he was so overcome with happiness; his daughter's revealing attire wasn't going to faze him.

He smiled, and she smiled back.

I'm sorry, daddy. She apologised, still smiling however.

"What for?" Chapel shook his head, unable to understand.

For this. Tida said. For a moment Chapel thought she was apologising for wearing something so skimpy in public, before she continued on to say: I know how happy you are, I can sense that much. But soon you will have to wake up and endure anguish no man should have to endure.

Chapel frowned, shaking his head. He still didn't understand.

You will have to take comfort in knowing one thing. Tida said. I love you very much. Never forget that... ever. Her voice lowered to a whisper as she reached out and touched the man's face. It is time to go, daddy.

Chapel shook his head. He didn't want to go. He wanted to stay here. He didn't care if this was a dream. He would sleep for the rest of eternity. He couldn't lose her. Not again...

Daddy...

"No, don't go." Chapel raised his voice as Tida was pulled away. The beach seemed to waver and blur, slowly melting away into darkness all around him. "Please, don't..."

"Daddy..."

"No, Tida..." Chapel took a step forward, but his feet were rooted to the ground. He looked down. His swimming shorts had transformed. He was wearing white. His sleeves were long, the ends covering his hands like some form of tube-gloves and ending in latches that were sometimes wrapped around his torso. He looked back up. Tida was gone...

"DADDY, WAKE UP!"

Gasping for air, Chapel opened his eyes and rolled over. He slipped over the edge of his bunk and held out his arms to absorb the impact. Bruises formed across his knees and forearms as he landed with a pronounced thud. In the background was the persistent wail of an alarm of some sort. Groaning the man managed to push himself up on his knees and inspect his surroundings.

The sleeves of his strait-jacket were loose, his bare feet cold on the cell floor. The walls were lined with pockets of padding, leaving space for a single metal door directly opposite to where Chapel was sitting.

A metallic 'thunk' later the locks on the door opened and the bulkhead swung open a crack. The persistent drone of the alarms grew a little louder, leaking further into Chapel's cell. Slowly he climbed to his feet and walked over. By now an orderly would have entered and jabbed Chapel with a large needle... that didn't happen.

Gently he reached out and pushed the door open. The corridor outside was empty. Various cell doors hung open and amber hazard lights flashed through the dim psych-ward.

"What the fuck..." even as he asked, the human stepped out into the hall and looked left to right. There was no one around. He was alone.

Wiping away the sleep and drowsiness in his eyes he chose a direction and started walking, wobbling slightly as he moved. Reaching out he let the end of his sleeve brush over the wall, aiding in keeping him upright. As he swept his vision left and right, he felt the shadows close in. darkness flitted this way and that, following him every step he took.

A groan caught his attention. Snapping his gaze right Chapel saw a cell door hanging open completely. There was a man sitting hunched in the centre of the cell, tearing and munching on something. At least, Chapel thought it was a man. He moved closer, squinting through the dim lighting. The man was burly, an anthropomorphic fox of some sort. His white fatigues were splashed with some sort of fluid, hard to distinguish in the dark. He was muttering something under his breath as he gored at something wet and pulpy.

A light splash and warmth over his foot stopped Chapel dead in his tracks. He looked down and saw a pool of crimson. Blood. It twisted and wound, then connected with the pulp the man in the cell was cutting into.

It was a corpse. Or at least, the bloody mass spread out over the floor of the cell used to be a body of either a patient, orderly, doctor or nurse. It was impossible to tell. The smell of copper filled Chapel's senses, panic giving him a sudden surge of sobriety. The figure squatted over the gory mess sat up, then sharply twisted around to face the human.

It was impossible to mistake Doctor Field, even while his uniform was splashed with blood and his eyes were wide and filled with crazed murder.

"I know you." The doctor hissed in a long, low dragged out tone. "Michael Chapel. Patient seven-two-nine-zero-bee. Tell me, Mister Chapel. You remember your wife's name yet... or am I going to have to cut it out of your brain?"

Slowly the doctor's hand rose to reveal a glint of metal. The scalpel was stained with blood, much like the rest of the fox. Slowly he rose up until he stood a little taller than the human.

Chapel didn't stick around to find out what the doctor would do next. He twisted to the opposite end of the hall and ran, the blood on his foot slapping noisily with ever other pace. Behind him, though Chapel didn't dare look to confirm, Doctor Field darted out of the cell after the human. He however slipped on the pool of blood Chapel had stepped in and landed flat out, letting loose an inhuman scream. The doctor slid to a halt, his hand squeaking slightly on the blood polished floor.

"Come back, Michael!" the doctor screamed, scrambling clumsily to his feet. "I have something for you!" he yelled giving chase.

Chapel didn't look back. He ran past a waist high cupboard on wheels. The metal tray laying on top was clipped by his hand as he passed. The human ignored the bruising on his knuckles as a plethora of plastic cups and empty syringes hit the ground at his heels. Impossibly nimble for a man his age and condition, Chapel leapt up and planted a hand on the soft surface of a gurney laying in the middle of the hallway. He swung his legs over and landed, continuously running without missing a beat. His training and EVA conditioning, not to mention several trophies for high-school grav-ball was showing. Ten years off the bench, but he still had it.

He panted for breath, pumping his legs as hard as he could. As nimble as he was, his stamina could only be stretched so far. His lungs burned. His thighs were on the verge of locking up. It felt like the muscles were ready to burst out through his skin. Coughing, Chapel tried to catch his breath. He stumbled as he glanced over his shoulder.

Field ran over a cluster of syringes, the needles and broken shards of glass and plastic sinking deep into his feet. He didn't seem to feel it and kept coming. He was gaining.

Chapel looked forward and saw the hall ended in a dead end. At the end were a pair of sliding doors. The light above them burned crimson. He slowed slightly. There was no point. There was nowhere to go. Any second now Field would be on him. He would feel the scalpel cut into him... puncture him. Relieve him of everything that kept his body alive.

Still running, the human braced himself for pain...

And then there was green. The lights changed and the doorway parted down the middle, removing itself from the pathway into a brightly lit elevator. Eyes widening slightly, Chapel lowered his head and pushed himself a little further. He dove forward and hit the threshold of the elevator. He slid into place, the back of his head bashing against the far end of the elevator's wall. Grunting he looked up.

Field was close now. He leapt after the human, his eyes wide and maniacal. The scalpel was held high, ready to stab into flesh...

The doors slammed shut, blocking the fox from view. A pronounced 'thud' rattled against the steel doors, followed by a soft, gentle hum of the elevator being dragged upwards. Light slid down past the seam in the doors as Chapel sighed.

He rested his head back against the cool wall, letting the coolness dissipate his throbbing head. His hands were shaking with adrenaline coursing through his veins. What the fuck was that about? He thought to himself before the painfully short elevator ride came to an abrupt end. He wished he could just sit here with his head resting back forever. His eyelids and his limbs were heavy. He didn't want to go on.

It was a shock to the system and caused his heart to flutter when he did force himself into motion. He opened his eyes and stood, using the chrome handhold at waist height to steady himself. He looked at the display above the glowing control panel. It read Security. He'd ridden all the way to the security booth. Good. He could find out what the hell was going on from a security officer. Not that they'd be all that excited to see a mental patient on the loose. All he'd have to do is obey their commands and they'd keep him safe... hopefully.

The doors opened and Chapel stepped out into carnage. "Oh, my god." He whispered looking around.

The chamber was covered entirely in blood. Bodies... body-parts, lay strewn all over the floor and the consoles dotted throughout the security centre. Ventilation grates hung open, twisted and useless. Half torn apart faces looked up at Chapel as he walked past, twisted expressions of pain and horror. The bodies were clad in a mixture of security issue riot armour and standard fatigues. All the RIG biometric strips were dark. It was like a wild animal had torn through them all. Most bodies were so eviscerated it was impossible to tell how many security personnel had even been present for the slaughter.

He kept one hand over his mouth to hold back the urge to vomit. The only thing that truly kept Chapel from vomiting was the fact that there was nothing in his stomach to eject.

A shuffle caught Chapel's attention. He looked back down to the piles of bodies in one corner of the room. What was that sound?

It was too late by the time he realised it. The bodies exploded outward. Limbs and rad-dolls crashed into Chapel's chest. One body caught hold of him, limp arms draping around his shoulders. The dead woman was an anthropomorphic feline of sorts, her mouth hanging open with thick clumps of blood and maggots spilling from her empty eye-sockets.

Chapel couldn't help cry out in a high pitch he'd never heard come from his mouth before. He pushed her body away, giving room for another to pounce him. This one wasn't limp however.

The young wolf must have been hiding underneath the corpses. He was splashed with blood, but seemed un-injured. The helmet of his security-issued armour was retracted, revealing the expression of panic on his face. The only sign he might be injured was the glowing amber strip of light on the biometric readout part of the Recourse Integrated Gear strapped to his back, but the biometric error could be attributed to erratic vital signs caused by stress or panic.

The young security officer planted his left forearm against the human's throat and pushed back. They both lost balance and slammed into the surface of a computer console, causing the sheets of covering plastic to rattle noisily. The wolf stayed on top, bringing his other hand around to shove a pistol in Chapel's face.

All the time he was shouting. "Who are you? Identify yourself! Identify yourself now!"

"Michael!" Chapel quickly replied keeping his hands up and in view. "My name is Michael. I'm a patient. Don't shoot! Just stay calm, okay, buddy?"

The wolf breathed heavy in the silence, his eyes flitting over Chapel for a moment. Satisfied that the human was lucid, he eased up, but only a little. "A patient from the psych-ward?"

"Hey man, as it stands it looks like I'm saner than the doctors around here, okay?" Chapel said. "Doctor Field just tried to kill me."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" the wolf snapped.

"Just take a deep breath, son." Despite the calmness in his voice, his wide eyes and beating heart betrayed his fear. But the way he talked to the younger man made it plainly obvious Chapel was a father. "We can get out of here, both of us. You just need to trust me, okay? C'mon, kid. Put it away. Let me help you." He looked down at the gun pressed against his chin.

The wolf followed his gaze, then slowly pulled back. He stepped back and nodded, lowering the weapon, then held out a hand and helped the human to his feet.

"What's your name, kid?" Chapel asked, stooping to rummage through several of the bodies the young wolf had toppled with his 'jack-in-the-box' ambush. He was looking for a weapon, ammo, anything that would come in handy. He had to avoid the dead gazes of the bodies that still had eyes, and did his best to disembody himself from what he was doing. He pretended to be somewhere else. I'm on a warm beach, holding my daughter's hand. He just kept repeating that to himself, hoping that any minute he might actually believe it.

"Jim." The wolf replied with a shuddering breath. "Jim Dawson. Hospital security."

"What happened here, Jim?" defeated by a fruitless search, the human straightened up again.

"Something crashed into the hospital... shook the whole damn structure up. And then they came. Those things... they... tore through my squad... infected them... the women were... I don't..." the wolf was on the verge of tears, burying his face in one hand. "They sprouted swords... I kept shooting them, but they didn't stop. They just kept... they didn't die. Why didn't they die!?" he stepped forward again grabbing Chapel by the collar. "They didn't die! Don't you understand? You can't stop them!"

"Stop who, Jim?" Chapel nearly shouted, purposely repeating the young man's name to make him feel like he had identity. The security officer was losing it again and Chapel would be hard pressed to keep him calm. "What is going on here, Jim? Why are people dying? Who's killing everyone, Jim?"

The wolf stopped and stepped back. His eyes were wide with shock as if to say you don't know? He shook his head. "Where have you been for the past twenty-four hours? If you're only just revived from stasis... you don't know. You don't know anything!" he screamed before planting the muzzle of his pistol against his own head, finger flexing around the trigger. "What's the point? What's the point?" he just kept blubbing as he shrank to his knees and sobbed.

"Whoa, okay! Easy, kid." Chapel didn't dare dart any closer in case the boy actually pulled the trigger on himself. With the orientation of the barrel, he calculated the bullet would completely obliterate the wolf's brain causing instant death. The last thing he wanted was to lose his only ally. Albeit an extremely crazed ally. "Look at me, Jim. Here, look here. Just relax, okay? We can get through this. Just tell me what is wrong. Tell me what's broken and I'll fix it."

Jim looked up, his eyes wide with pure terror, brimming with tears. Something reflected in the glazy green orbs. Something crimson, a slim figure, shifting past behind Chapel without a sound. It could have been a trick of the light, and the human would have looked, but right now he was focused on keeping Jim from doing something stupid.

"She's all wrong. Put together wrong and impossible to take apart again." The wolf whispered suddenly. His voice wasn't right though. It was broken, weak and trembling. Not just filled with the fear from before... it was the voice of a man who was ready to take his own life, who truly believed this was the only way out. "To fix her would be like fixing a person. Cut them up and take out the insides. Take what makes us people and leave only the monster..."

Chapel frowned. "What?" his eyes suddenly widened seeing Jim's finger tighten on the trigger. "Wait, Jim, NOOO!" he reached forward, but recoiled as a deafening crash rang out.

For a few terrible milliseconds Chapel thought the gun had gone off. His vision blurred as he looked around expecting to see Jim missing half his brains and laying there among the other dead. It was only later the human would think the young wolf should have been so blessed to be able to blow his own head off.

It fell from above somewhere and landed behind the wolf, startling them both in a shower of debris that used to be a ventilation shaft cover. It was heavy, whatever it was, landing with a heavy thud and crouching low in the shadows among the corpses littering the floor. It stirred quietly, then in tune with the situation unravelling in slow motion, a creature directly from the pits of hell straightened up and loomed like a bloody shadow over Jim's catatonic form.

Chapel's mouth fell open in a silent scream at the sight of it. The creature used to be a woman. What remained was a tattered shell, a mere host home to some sort of infection, or mutation. Tattered remains of a patient robe hung from the vixen's gaunt frame. Blood soaked the cloth and stained her drained pink skin that seemed to sag and seep over her body, patches of fur falling away on random parts of her lacerated body. Her hands were gathered by her abdomen which were torn open to reveal all the soft insides were scooped clean out, leaving just an empty, crimson cavity behind the ribs. A pair of arms, more like swords, sprouted from her shoulder blades and arched overhead, ending in serrated scythes made of blood stained bone. Her face was sunken, muzzle split three different ways to reveal pointed teeth behind thin, pale lips.

It was no longer a woman, but a killing machine.

The swords came down, the points of the bone-scythes slamming into Jim's back. They pierced his armoured pads like they were just cloth, and she pulled him close like a lover. The monster's maw then opened wide and she bit into the wolf's neck. A gurgling, slurping sound filled Chapel's stunned senses as she shook her head, bits of flesh and gore splashing every which way. The human could only watch as Jim let out a high pitched scream. It was a scream Chapel had only heard once before when a livestock lamb was being butchered, but lived long enough to realise it was going to die.

Jim was beyond saving. Teeth dug deeper and punctured his wind-pipe, snapping through cartrilage with a sickening 'crack.' But still, Chapel didn't move for a single fleeting selfish thought. When it finishes with Jim I'll be next.

The human looked down at where the wolf's pistol had fallen forgotten. He ducked and snatched it up, quickly rolling back his sleeves so he could grip the weapon in both hands. His eye focused through the glowing sights as he squeezed off a single shot.

The pistol kicked and projected a super-heated round down the barrel, out the muzzle and into the monster's head at almost point-blank range. The bullet split the creature's skull in two, splashing brain matter against the far wall...

But it didn't, relent. Now headless, it let go of Jim's throat, tearing free bits of tendon, letting the wolf's head hang limp as he groaned and gurgled with pain. The creature's swords pulled outward and with a single deft swipe tore the wolf in two, spilling a length of slippery intestine at Chapel's feet, warm blood squelching between his toes.

Wide eyed, the human stumbled back into a dead console as the creature darted closer, undeterred by a lack of head and higher brain-function. This is what Jim had been talking about. His exact words echoed in his mind, the wolf only living on as a fleeting memory now. He was no more than two dead segments on the ground, and a cluster of disembodied words.

I kept shooting them, but they didn't stop... they didn't die!

The creature was on him, scythes arching over and down. Chapel instinctively reached up to protect himself. One hand caught hold of the right sword, his fingers closing around the rubbery wrist and keeping the blade-tip at bay. The other hand holding the pistol tried to block the other scythe but failed. It slipped past his arm and slammed into the console right beside his shoulder. The creature gargled, bile bubbling from the throat and dripping over Chapel's chest.

The creature pulled back one scythe and slammed it down on the squirming human again. This time it met flesh. Chapel cried out with pain as the point embedded itself into his shoulder, piercing his jacket and entering the soft meat underneath. Blood oozed out over the white straight-jacket, spreading in a rough blob around where the scythe entered. The creature leaned in, jabbing the point deeper and sending fresh pain racing through Chapel's brain.

He had to do something. Anything. And then an idea came to mind. Maim this bitch so she can't hurt you.

Chapel quickly pressed the muzzle of the pistol against the joint where the arm and sword met and rattled off two shots. The bullets tore through and the scythe came free. The creature recoiled and Chapel pushed her off. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the bitter pain, he reached over, grabbed the bone-scythe in his free hand and tore it free, sending a sliver of blood splashing diagonally down across his chest.

It was amazing what a surge of adrenaline could do for even the most commonplace people.

The human quickly held out his pistol again and fired his last three shots into the creature's ankle. The foot tore free and she fell to one knee, giving Chapel a much needed advantage. Dropping the empty pistol, he turned the bone-scythe over in both hands and rammed it point first down into the gaping neck-hole of the creature. He then grabbed the remaining scythe and turned it over, throwing the dying creature off balance before breaking the sword over his knee. The force left a bruise, and made Chapel feel light headed, but as he stumbled away to catch himself on an empty weapon's cabinet, he looked back to see the monster twitch and die, completely dismembered.

That had to be it. If there were more of those things, and Chapel didn't doubt there would be more, that had to be the secret to killing them. Complete dismemberment. Given the choice, he would have preferred a regular old zombie attack like in the movies. At least shooting off the head would be a bit simpler. Now every one of these things he came across he'd have to completely dismember.

Straightening up, Chapel sighed. What had he just done? Did he just kill someone?

No, he just defended himself from a monster that would have otherwise destroyed him, and then God only knows what afterwards. But still, Chapel sensed he'd never be the same. He cast one more glance at Jim's lifeless corpse. For a moment he swore the young wolf looked up with a gaping look of pleading agony before the human turned away and clumsily stumbled out of the room.

He sealed the door behind him and leaned against the hallway wall, slowly sliding down into a seated position. Hugging his knees, the man suddenly broke into tears. Shock had hit him, and it hit him all of a sudden. The adrenaline had worn off, leaving an uncontrollable tremble in his extremities. Resting his chin on his chest, Chapel took a few shuddering breaths, begging himself to wake up from this nightmare...

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// Long term stay wards, November 2511 [Earth Time]

The pain in his knee where he'd broken the creature's scythe over it persisted. But that wasn't all that hurt. Every muscle in Chapel's old body ached and complained as he struggled on through the endless gore smeared halls of the hospital. The sprint to get away from Field. The struggle with that monster... the stabbing...

Grunting, Chapel looked down at the hand gripping his right shoulder to see blood seep between his fingers. His skin was turning pale. It had been two hours since the struggle in the security chamber and the bleeding hadn't stopped, perhaps to spite his efforts to survive. Over the past two hours he'd hid every time he spotted movement. He'd jumped at every shadow, even retreated into a locker at one point to let a bunch of the 'slasher' creatures shuffle aimlessly past. Stealth had been key to survival. But now he was weak, light headed. And to add to the spite, he was in a hospital but no doctor in sight to tend to his injuries. No medical supplies to at least stop the bleeding. Medicine cabinets look like they had been raided. Lockers were for the most part locked tight, those that weren't were already looted of their contents.

Chapel had no doubt this was punishment for something. He'd died a long time ago and gone to hell. Ten years of doctors convincing him he was a nutcase... and now this.

Defeated and weak the man fell to his knees on the edge of a gift shop. Some helium 'get well' balloons bobbed near a closed vent, swaying lightly in the breeze circulated through the chamber. Toys and empty candy wrappers were scattered over the floor, over the smears of blood and chunks of gore littered about the place. He panted for breath, but couldn't catch his stamina. Slowly he looked over his shoulder, ignoring the stiffness in his wound. The biometric monitor strip built into the back of his straight-jacket, a jacket that hardly kept him warm in the hospital that was starting to feel frigid, flashed amber, border lining a shade of red.

A cold chill caused Chapel to shake uncontrollably, and he keeled forward. The hand plugging his shoulder reached out and slapped against the ground, leaving a crimson palm-print. He coughed, no longer caring what noise he made anymore. He was done.

Finished.

A sob caught his dulling senses.

Jaw gritted, Chapel looked up, the shadows glowing brighter, light harsher in his eyes through the pain. Colours seemed to attenuate as endorphins and adrenaline kicked in. A natural survival reaction of his body. It was his biology fighting to keep his body going. All he needed was the right state of mind.

She was there. Right there in front of him, nearly close enough to touch. The girl was clad in white, a cool blue biometric strip down along her spine. He saw sunshine yellow fur on her tail and vibrant blonde hair. She had a slim frame, lithe like a feline.

"Tida?" Chapel asked hoarsely. Could it be? Could it be her?

Chapel forced himself to crawl closer. As he made his way, he pushed himself to his feet and crouched low to maintain his balance. The floor seemed to sway this way and that, causing him to trip over his own feet, but he stayed up, reaching out to his daughter.

"Tida, is that you?" hopeful, Chapel smiled, stretching out his fingers.

They brushed her shoulder. He almost had her... she stopped sobbing and her head jolted up, vibrant white light suddenly bouncing throughout the room.

She whipped around in an instant. Long nailed claws flexed around his throat, painfully squeezing his Adam's apple tight against his wind-pipe. The pipe flexed and he had to struggle for air through fresh pain assaulting his senses. It wasn't Tida. Through his narrowing vision, he saw it was her. His dead wife.

She was clad in what he had found her on that horrific night almost a lifetime ago. White lingerie showing off her hourglass figure. Her fur ruffled, stained with something sticky clinging to the fur around the abdomen and inner thighs. Her bra was half un-done, partially falling off to reveal her left breast. Blood caked the fur on her chest, a deep gash running from one corner of her jaw, down across her throat and back up to the other corner. The wound seemed to part as she looked up at Chapel held in her grip, steam hissing from the partially cauterised gash.

Her eyes were hollow, missing, only blinding light flowing from them.

He remembered her like he had been holding her only last night... but her name. What was her name?

Go ahead, Michael. Say it! Rage filled her voice as she practically screamed at the husband she was strangling. What is my name!?

Chapel gagged, closing his eyes for a moment. His vision narrowed, darkness forming around the edges of his vision. His mouth opened looking down at her. "I..." he gagged. "I can't... I... Ti..."

What?

"...da... Ti-da..." he managed to force out his daughter's name. He wanted to say don't do this. Please, for Tida. He wanted to appeal to her love for their daughter. But hearing that name seemed to anger her more.

Just what I though! His wife screamed. You loved her more than me. That's why you killed me!

"No..." he tried, coughing against a closed throat.

She was young. Supple. You loved fucking her more than you loved fucking me! The cougar screamed. That's why you can't remember my name! I was nothing to you! I pretended not to hear you fuck her in the next room! Make her scream with ecstasy! Why didn't you ever fuck me that way!? Instead you murdered me so you could just fuck that little slut forever!

Fuck his daughter? Kill his wife? No! "Never!" Chapel choked. "I... w-woul... d... ne... never..."

LIAR! The cracks showed. Her image flickered like a hologram. For a moment Chapel peered through and saw something else.

A snake-like head with horns curving up along the sides of a sleek skull. Vibrant crimson scales with deep black symbols etched into them. Slim, rippling muscle and fingers ending in talons. A wide maw filled with a quad of needle-like fangs.

His wife returned in the blink of an eye. Only different. Blood filled the air and a pair of swords sprouted from her shoulder blades. They arched around and slammed into Chapel's chest. He didn't even feel it. Just the air escaping his lungs as he was dropped.

His feet landed, but his legs didn't hold. He just crumpled on the spot. The blades pulled back and the human looked down to see crimson spread across his chest. He struggled for breath, wheezing with every inhale. It couldn't be too bad though. There was no more pain. Just numb.

Comforting numb.

His world closed in further. He was going to black out, Chapel knew that much. But here wasn't safe. He had to survive. He needed somewhere to hide. The shop! Chapel looked at it and saw a supply vendor. The kiosk was pretty much a walk in safe. He could crawl inside and close it. That would be a safe place to rest.

Ignoring the numbness now taking his legs, Chapel reached out and planted a blood stained arm in front of him. He gripped the ground as best as he could and dragged himself closer. His other arm reached out now, glistening with fresh blood. It didn't drag him as far, slick with fluid on the laminate floor. How much blood was he losing.

Maybe not too much. There was no pain. He was fine!

The world closed in completely. Everything went black as he reached out again towards the kiosk and gripped the floor.

Bu-thum went his heart. A flash of something. A double bed in the centre of some sort of room. Simple décor. A single window beside the door. The holo-panel read 'locked.' The bedside lights were on. A backpack lay in the corner. It had to be a motel room of some sort.

Bu-thum. His vision widened for a second. A shot of pain raced through his chest cavity as he inhaled. The kiosk was a bit closer now. Grinning to himself, Chapel dragged himself forward another bit, his arms gathering under his chest. The pain was gone again. He must be getting better.

Bu-thum. There was someone in the hotel room.

Tida was there, standing in front of him. She was smiling, her perfect white teeth shining. She was eighteen years old, wearing a crimson nighty. It hardly covered her, the light silk hanging over her perky breasts and hugging her narrow mid-riff, falling just about beyond her wide hips. The way she kept her delicate shoulders back made her cleavage seem larger, and her tail lifted to raise the bottom of the nighty a little revealing the fur surrounding her slit. The lips were already swollen, parting just a little to reveal wet, soft pink flesh within itching to be explored.

Her innocent green eyes were half closed, staring seductively into Chapel's as he watched with a mixture of shock and awe.

"Hello, daddy." She whispered softly, slowly walking backwards.

Her calves crashed into the foot of the bed and she let herself fall into the cushions. Slowly and seductively her feet rose up onto the bed, shifting the nighty in a way her father caught an eye-full of her inner-calves. Her nether lips seemed to part and move as she crawled further up the bed, propping her back up against the head-board.

"Why don't you come and join me, daddy?" Tida added seductively with a 'come hither' look on her face. Her right hand hovered in front of her, her index finger curling slowly to gesture him to move closer.

Bu-thum the pulse of his heart heavy in his ears as he forced his eyes open. A pair of feet shuffled past him in the corner of his eye. He looked over and saw one of the slasher creatures idly shuffling around. It wasn't looking at him, merely patrolling the far end of the room. Groaning against pursed lips, Chapel defiantly reached out and slapped a hand down, dragging himself closer to the vendor only a few metres away now. He had to fight unconsciousness. Fight the horrible nightmares... keep...

... going...

Bu-thum. "Hmmmmmm, daddy look at what your precious little girl is doing."

He couldn't look away from the bed where Tida lay. She was resting back, her eyes never leaving his gaze. Her legs were spread wide, one hand was massaging her breasts covered by the silken nighty. The other was between her thighs massaging her swollen sex. Her mouth ad fallen open and her head angled away a little, but those large green eyes remained fixed on the sinful bulge forming in his trousers.

Her fingers massaged up and down over her slit before she gently parted the soft flesh. Sunset-yellow gave way to pink as a wet opening was revealed. The corners of her mouth turned upward as she gently worked a finger into the folds, gently rubbing around through the tender flesh. Sweet moans escaped her throats as she found a particular nub of flesh that drove her particularly crazy.

"Oh, daddy it feels so good." Tida hissed her voice cracking slightly. "I'm so wet for you. I need something inside me. Something big. Come on, daddy. Come here and make your naughty little girl happy."

Bu-thum. What the fuck was going on? Stop it! Chapel screamed in his mind looking at the vending kiosk. It was only an arm's reach away. His vision was failing him. It was getting harder and harder to stay conscious. Chapel gave an aggravated groan, stretching out his arm. His trembling fingers idly felt through the blurring haze for the threshold...

Bu-thum. Tida was perched on the foot of the bed, her nighty pulled up over her waist. She was holding on to the backs of her knees, spreading her legs as far as she could. Her lower body quite literally formed an arrow, which his eyes followed downward until Chapel saw his own throbbing erection. Both of them knew exactly what was going to happen.

Tida was hungrily begging under her breath.

Chapel screamed at himself in his mind to look away. Walk away! But his body did not obey. He leaned forward, closing one hand around his daughters neck, the other grabbing his length and guiding it to Tida's swollen pussy-lips.

Her soft flesh parted to receive him as the head pressed against her. Tida moaned in response, arching her back and bucking her hips over him. He gently started rubbing up and down, feeling her warm slick juices cover his head.

Another little push and he felt her hot folds recede, a tight, wet tunnel engulfing the tip of his erection.

Tida let out a sweet 'uhn!' as the corners of her mouth turned upward. Slowly, bit by bit she felt her insides spread apart to give way for her father, slowly slipping deeper and deeper into her.

Bu-thum. His fingers found it. A handhold. They hooked over the threshold of the kiosk. His arm-muscles strained as he pulled with all his might, roughly dragging his numb form into the cylindrical vessel. He was almost there.

Almost safe. He was going to make it. He'd be okay...

With a strained heave he was in. Chapel managed to sit up, propping himself against the back of the vendor. His legs lay weak and sprawled out in front of him. His arms were limp on the floor to his sides. His eyelids drooped, feeling like they weighed a ton.

I'll just take a nap here. Catch my breath. Get my strength. He thought to himself as the doors to the kiosk started sliding shut. Everything blurred. The world seemed to move at its own pace...

Bu-thum-thud-thud-thud, smack-smack-smack, his heart raced in time with every thrust and every slap of flesh on flesh. Every squelch caught his fixed senses. Her sweet moans rang in his ears. His view of her bare back, his hands gripping her narrow waist bobbing up and down and side to side with every deep and hard pound.

"Deeper, daddy. Drill me deeeeeeeeper!" Tida nearly screamed, but she held her composure, looking back at the father thrusting into her tight, slick cunt from behind. "Don't stop. I want to feel you go faster, daddy. Fuck your little slut faster... haaa-a-a-a-aaarder." She added with a shuddering, lust-filled growl, her eyes clenched shut as her hips bucked involuntarily over the deep, rhythmic thrusts. With every penetration he seemed to reach deeper into her, the head touching the base of her womb. To encourage him to go even faster, to fuck her tight little hole harder, Tida started rocking back and forth, lustfully arching her back in an attempt to feel more inside her. As he ground out of her, she rocked forward. Then as he slid back in to sheath himself in her wet snatch, she quickly rocked back and felt his hips slam hard against her firm rear. It felt so good her tail started curling on its own.

She could feel him swell as a fresh wave of juices flowed out over his shaft. With every wave of her cum she shook uncontrollably, her voice shaking with her body. "O-o-o-oh, g-g-g-go-o-o-d-d-d." her head fell forward into her hands and she took a mouthful of the bed-sheets, biting down hard. It didn't seem to stop. She couldn't stop cumming, pouring waves and waves of sweet, slick fluids over her father's cock.

Chapel heard his own voice. A grunt of sick pleasure. He was screaming at himself in his head to stop, but he didn't. His body just kept moving against his will. The tingling in his loins built and built. Pressure increased and finally...

Release...

Tida threw back her head and screamed with ecstasy. Her eyes were open wide as she looked up to the headboard of the motel bed, the sheets soaked with drool falling from her mouth. The cougar kept her rear pointed directly up, her belly arching down towards the mattress to let all the seed flow deeper and deeper into her. Purring softly, she felt it, warm and thick drooling down into her womb filling her with warmth... making her feel whole.

Her fingers continued to claw at the sheets as she felt her father's length slowly recede, sliding painfully slowly out. The bulge of his head raked along her insides causing her to shutter and whimper with joy. She didn't want it to stop. Already she was itching for more, and decided that if she was a good girl her daddy would make her feel nice again.

Bu-thum. Growling, Chapel shook his head. What was he dreaming? What was going on? Those weren't memories. Were they?

No! Of course they weren't. He loved his daughter. He would never do that with her. These were just sick hallucinations. The drugs the psych-doctors had pumped into him were wearing off, coupled with blood loss. He just needed to blank it out. Fight through. He'd be fine... Tida would be fine.

His eyes opened and he saw her. An older version of his daughter with light in her eyes. His wife. She was standing with her hands on her hips looking down at him. The doors slid shut completely, but before she was out of view Chapel swore he saw crimson scales again.

Why would you kill me over that little slut...

The clamps of the kiosk's doors locked down and he was submerged in darkness. He felt his eyes fall shut, and Chapel slowly slipped away into a bliss...

Bu-...