FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

CHAPTER FIVE

ANDREW rolled over in his bed. His usual seven-segment display pierced through the utter darkness. The time displayed 7:04 PM.

Am I getting worse? Sheesh, what happened? He thought.

Andrew sat up in his bed, stretching his back and neck. I need to stop playing those weird porn games before bed; I think they're starting to give me some bizarre dreams...

Andrew swung his legs out of bed and stood atop the growing mound of dirty clothes. Next to him, his phone screen lit up in the darkness, the sharp electronic ringtone making him jump instinctively. Andrew reached to pick up his phone and silence the assumed spam-caller. But, instead of a generic string of numbers on the phone screen, there was only a single word.

MOM

Andrew felt a creeping dread in the darkness all around him, like he was being watched. The ringtone grew louder with each repetition as he held the smartphone in his shaking hand.

He swallowed. No...It can't be, it can't…

Andrew put one of his fingers onto the phone screen to swipe to the side and answer the call.

But nothing happened as his furred finger slipped off the glass screen.

Fur? Why? No…

Andrew frantically swiped with his finger, desperately attempting to answer the phone call as the ringtone grew even louder, pounding in his ears painfully, drowning out all other noises, but the noise wouldn't end.

The phone wouldn't pick up. He couldn't answer. He would never be able to answer that call he had been waiting for, for so long. Never again. As he swiped, the phone grew hot, like a searing piece of metal as tears fell from his eyes.

Mom! I'm sorry! Just let me answer, please, these fingers won't let me!

The tears fell onto the phone screen, swirling into the display in a mix of colors as the phone itself began to melt in his hands, coating and burning his fingers.

Andrew screamed in pain as he jumped awake in his straw bed. He stared at his fingers in the darkness, panting heavily. It took a few moments for the musty scent of his prison to register with him. The rough bedding rubbed against his fur, which became greyer with dirt each night he spent on his rough hay bedding.

A nightmare… But is what I woke up to much better?

After he met with Moira yesterday, Andrew was taken back to his cell, where he fell asleep curled up with his stuffed mouse, the crude toy sitting gently on his lap.

The nightmare made him want to hug his mouse and cry, lean back and wipe his tears while he regretted his past life, and ruminate on his current one.

No, I can't give up. I can't stay here; I don't accept this fate. This is my only chance to get away, before whatever else they have planned is done to me. While they're not here— I can do this, he thought.

Andrew felt the pit in his stomach grow. The confusion, the fear, and the physical starvation mixed together into a dark, empty feeling in his gut. All he could do was cling to some hope of escape. The pain of the day prior felt like a band-aid being ripped off. No more sulking. It was time for action.

I'll escape this place tonight or die trying. I mean, I've already died once, right?

Andrew smirked and let out a chuckle before preparing for his task. He pushed his anguish and hunger out of his mind as best he could, scanning the room like the first night. Just as expected, nothing had been moved or changed since he left.

Including the broken bowl, Andrew thought. He moved into action immediately. He tossed his stuffed mouse to the side of his cell and picked up pieces of the bowl. The bowl's pieces were thick and on the large side, most of them curving gently like their original form.

Selecting the largest one, Andrew took it over to the door and tried to shimmy it into the lock. The piece didn't fit, so he tried another. Not one of them would fit all the way into the inner mechanism of the lock.

Undeterred, Andrew took the piece that seemed closest to the size of the keyway and vigorously rubbed it along one of the rusty metal bars. The gritty rust aided in his goal of shaping the piece of bowl into a crude key, kicking up a brown mixture of rust and clay dust into the air.

Just a little more. These cultists and their prison will all be behind me, he thought.

Andrew filed until the shape began to resemble a curved key, with one large part to hold onto and another meant to fit into the lock and hit one of the archaic levers. He tested the fit of the key periodically, alternating between filing and checking his work, his furry white fingers turning brown and gray from the rust and dirt. Andrew stopped just before the key reached a thickness where it might break off in the lock. Saying a quick prayer, Andrew pushed the key into the lock and turned it gently, applying more and more pressure, trying to pass the key through the internal gates of the lock until...

Click.

Andrew's eyes widened at his success. He felt his chest flutter as he nudged the door open gently. It swung free. Andrew punched the air triumphantly, his blackened fingers gripping the crude key out in front of him.

Yes! I bet a stupid cat couldn't do that! Nice technology, morons!

Andrew glanced down the corridor, the stone floor brushing underneath his padded feet. He hazarded a step outside his cell but froze. The aches and pains from the beatings he experienced flared up along with his fear. He was a perpetually bloody, bruised mess in a world where he hadn't so much as seen daylight— if they even had a sun.

I can still turn back, just sit and wait, obey their orders…

Andrew bit his lip gently with his sharp teeth.

No, I'll escape this ring of hell and crawl my way through the next, he thought.

Andrew padded down the hall as quickly and as quietly as he could on his tough-soled feet. He hadn't spotted an exit during his walks through the corridors, but one had to exist somewhere. He followed the same winding corridor he had been escorted through multiple times now, not stopping to study any of the irregularly shaped cells he passed by.

Eventually, he arrived at the door to Moira's altar room, the metal inlays still shining proudly in the torchlight.

If there's a way out of here, it has to be somewhere around here.

Sneaking up to the door, he cracked it open to make sure it wasn't occupied. Andrew could hear a voice immediately with his feline ears, which automatically angled towards the noise. He could hear Moira's voice speaking in a more authoritative tone than usual.

I should probably just go somewhere else before I'm caught… But there might be some sort of secret exit or password. I need to see where and how they leave if I want to get out of here.

Poking his face around the corner, Andrew could see the strange scene. Moira was standing around the altar with a group of other students that obscured his view. She was giving a lecture as the students listened intently.

"...And so, always remember to be very careful with any Tracks that apply directly to another person. Even if you intend to help, even a slight breach of concentration can have terrible consequences. Go ahead and practice on this one. Accidents are ok, but be careful. Just because he's a soulless doesn't mean you can just mess him up," Moira said.

Andrew leaned in further, desperate to see more. Are they experimenting on him? Dear god, Andrew thought.

Stretching and peeking more, Andrew stuck his entire head around the corner as he was engrossed with the event. The students continually blocked his sight as they moved around the altar, their outstretched hands touching the soulless one at a time. Andrew caught an occasional glimpse of the sleeping soulless on the altar through the moving robed figures. Andrew could tell that he or she was at least alive and had very grey fur, but not much else.

Andrew looked back at Moira. She had stepped back from the students to supervise them all at once. Her brown eyes wandered over her students, half asleep as she let out a yawn.

At the very apex of her yawn, Moira mindlessly glanced over to the door to the altar room.

At that moment, their eyes connected.

Andrew's blue eyes went wide, while Moira froze and went pale white in shock. She looked like she'd seen a ghost. They stayed like that for a moment, stuck in a staring contest.

Andrew broke first, closing the door quietly before spinning on the spot and high-tailing it back down the corridor. His bare feet were nowhere near as loud as shoes on the stone floor, but the pounding of his feet still echoed in the long tunnel.

Dammit! I'm such an idiot! Curiosity killed the cat and all that! Andrew ran through the underground complex, skidding to a halt in front of his cell. This was his last chance to get back in his cell and ask for forgiveness.

I'm past forgiveness. Even Moira is experimenting on soulless; I doubt she'll be very kind to me for doing something like this, he thought.

Andrew could hear rushed footsteps echo down from behind him. He bolted once more. He flew past the cells as he panted for oxygen.

Before long, he came up to another opening. This was another circular stone room, but it had a large metal circle in the middle instead of an altar. It quickly dawned on him that this was the room in which he had been created just a few days prior. Andrew's heart sank. He still remembered from the first time he had looked around, moments after starting his new life. The room only had one exit, and he was standing in it.

There has to be some trick, some secret entrance, anything! He thought.

Andrew cursed softly, running his hands along the walls desperately. The circular room was very simplistic. Only the Track on the ground was notable in the room whatsoever. No furniture, no storage.

Andrew could hear the steps closing in on him. He was cornered, with nowhere to run. He felt the same feeling as when he was being approached by Gulf with the Freezestick creeping up into his thoughts. It was something innate in him, a voice in his head that yelled at him to run or fight.

Moira rounded the corner in a hustle, all by herself. She was huffing for breath but looked relieved to see Andrew. She approached slowly, with her hands out, like Andrew was a feral animal.

"Kitty… Celeste… I don't want to hurt you, but I really, really need you to go back to your bed, ok?"

Moira took one step at a time, moving closer with her hands outstretched.

Andrew had nowhere to run. He could feel his instincts grow louder.

Fight! She's afraid of you! Escape!

Andrew lowered his stance as his tail swished behind him angrily. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his flattened ears.

His instincts were right. Moira was afraid. She looked like she would burst into tears any moment. And there was something about the way she smelled; he could almost feel her fear just from her scent.

Fight! Kill her! Pounce!

Andrew's legs tensed with energy as he prepared to strike and land a quick fatal blow with his teeth bared. He could visualize it playing it out in his mind, like an instructional video—his body knew what to do.

But something in Andrew wouldn't let him.

I can't… I don't want to hurt her, of all people. She is quite literally the only person who has been nice to me in this world. If it's between her and me...

Andrew blocked out the yelling of his instincts and forced himself to return to his usual posture and raise his hands in surrender.

...I refuse to hurt her.

Moira stopped in her tracks, freezing as she looked at Andrew with uncertainty before letting out the tense breath she had been holding. Moira looked him in the eyes, her unending sympathy still showing through in her soft expression.

"I understand, Celeste. I know you're going through a lot… I'm sorry for the way you've been treated. Things will be better when you're out of here tomorrow. I don't know how you got out, but I can tell you're a really smart, special kitty. So if you promise to behave yourself from now on and show me how you escaped, then I won't tell on you."

Andrew nodded. The defeat stung, even if he was spared punishment. Andrew began walking back to his cell of his own volition, Moira close behind him.

His head hung low as he made the long walk back to his cell. Immediate regret flooded him. He had utterly failed. The cold floor underfoot felt like it sapped his strength. He grew more and more tired with each step.

I'm finished, he thought.

Moira opened the door, walking with Andrew into the foreboding cell.

Andrew could hear the other voice inside him speak up, the one he had managed to suppress by focusing solely on his escape.

You failed. You’ve lost. You’re a slave. It’s over. Andrew sat down on his bed, hugging his legs. Having failed his task, the only escape now would be sleep.

I just want to disappear, he thought.

"Celeste, I know you're tired, but you still have a promise to keep."

Andrew stood up stiffly at the calling of his pet name. He searched for the piece of bowl he had used earlier to unlock the door. Andrew tried desperately to maintain composure as he walked over to the cell door and jimmied it open once more with a loud click. Having completed his task, Andrew walked back and handed the piece to Moira before turning away.

Moira put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

"Wow… That's… You must have seen the key when we locked the cell and then figured out how to make your own. I've never seen something like that before."

Andrew continued forward to sit down and curl up on the straw patch he called a bed. Moira pulled out a pad of paper and wrote something on it in her strange characters.

"Celeste, you're really a smart kitty, I can tell. Usually, Genitors act strange and unruly, but none of them I’ve met have come up with a way of escaping besides biting and running. I know you can't talk or write for now, but when you can, I'd like you to write me a letter if you can. Here's my full name and where to deliver the letter to. Sometimes if soulless are good, nice owners will let them have a little money to spend. If you ever get the chance, I'd love to hear whatever you have to say."

Moira picked up the stuffed mouse from the corner and dusted it off. She folded the note and slipped it into the small pouch on the mouse before placing it next to Andrew. She gently petted Andrew's head reassuringly.

"Don't give up, Celeste. Things will be rocky at first, but once you adjust to your new life, I'm sure you'll do a great job. No one in their right mind would pay so much for such a smart, beautiful creature and then abuse it. You've made it through the worst here, I'm sure."

Moira gave Andrew a tight hug before getting up to leave.

"You'll be shipped out tomorrow and get to see the sun. Make sure you eat all of your food, kitty, or the help will make you eat it. And don't escape again, ok?"

Moira shut and locked the door behind her as she walked out, leaving Andrew alone with his thoughts.

CHAPTER SIX

AKI awoke with a splitting sensation in her skull and a chill in her bones. She was tucked into her thin yet warm blankets, still on the bed she had passed out on. Despite her fur, clothes, and blankets, Aki was shivering and felt an ache in her stomach.

What happened to me?

Aki pulled herself up, sitting on her bed. She was still wearing the Track glove, but the wound on her thumb had scabbed over, creating a blotch in her furry visage.

Aki stood up from the bed on wobbly knees and limped out the door, holding onto the wall as she walked downstairs.

I was trying to use the stupid Track and then I just passed out? The thing just blows wind, and now I feel like trash.

Down the stairs, Aki could see Dempsey sitting at one of the tables in the back room, separating the marks he had earned that day by denomination. The piles of coins were neatly stacked on top of a worn wooden table that was worth half of the coins that were placed upon it.

"Aki! You're awake!" Dempsey rushed to support her as she stumbled down the end of the stairs and onto the first floor, holding her head with one hand. "I came back from my meeting, and you had passed out, with blood all over the wall!"

Aki chuckled weakly. "I might have gone a little overboard with the Track…."

"The Track? Aki, please, you can't be serious. Only Genitors and humans can use magic. Please tell me you weren't… hurting yourself with that thing."

Dempsey looked at Aki with characteristic concern, his pale blue eyes looking her over for potential wounds. Ever since the two had left Ervale, it was a look Aki had come to know a little too well.

He never used to make faces like that. When did he grow up? Is him being a year older that much of a difference?

"I'm ok, D, I just need to eat something. I'm fine. Probably." Aki sat at the center table of the back room while Dempsey grabbed a leftover chunk of bread from the crooked cupboard.

"Seriously," Dempsey said, handing Aki the piece of bread. "I know you're disappointed about the job, I get it- but please don't hurt yourself, we care about you and-"

"Dempsey! I didn't hurt myself! Well, I guess I did, technically, but... But not like that!" Aki sighed and choked down the stale bread as quickly as she could. With something in her stomach, she felt slightly less nauseous, albeit still weak.

“Then what happened? You fall and hurt your head? It certainly sounds like it.”

“Very funny,” Aki said, throwing in an obviously fake laugh. “You know, since I have special powers now, that means I’m a special Genitor. I think a little show of respect is in order. Luckily for you, I think I will give you the privilege of getting me some more food.”

Aki winked at Dempsey, grinning up at him.

Dempsey rolled his eyes, his concern for his companion fading quickly. "Yes, you certainly are special, my little raccoon friend. How about you use your special powers to wipe those crumbs off your face."

Aki narrowed her eyes, her grin turning into a pout. "Don't call me a raccoon, you bunny rabbit, tanukis are higher up on the food chain than your lot. I'd tread carefully if I were you," she said, tapping one of her sharp canines.

"That's interesting," Dempsey said, "I didn't know I was below the garbage-eater on the food chain. I mean, what was that you ate back in the Northern Glen again? I can't quite remember…"

Aki's cheeks heated up under her mottled brown fur. Dempsey had once again used his trump card, an annoying occurrence in their repeated spats of banter.

“Y-you. Well… Well I… Screw you!"

Aki pointed her palm towards Dempsey. She hesitated for a second, the rational side of her butting in for a moment. Was it really a good idea to use her brand new magical powers on her best friend?

Yep!

Aki stuck her thumb onto the spike, wincing as it tore through her scab. She took a deep breath in as she felt the familiar sensation of the Track becoming a part of her. She could feel the energy being drawn out of her, the Track humming in her mind with power as she focused intently.

Dempsey looked away squeamishly. "Aki, I know we're joking around but you just passed out, now isn't the time to be stab-"

Aki exhaled. A furious gust of wind came out of her hand, launching her back out of her chair and onto the ground. Dempsey and the table Aki had been sitting at suffered the same fate, both being upended and knocked to the floor by the sudden force of air.

Dempsey quickly scrambled up from the floor and over to Aki, who was still lying on the floor. "Dear lord, Aki! Are you alright?" he asked, extending a hand to help Aki up.

Aki one, Dempsey zero, Aki thought.

Aki chuckled weakly. "Ha, your face...priceless." Aki grasped her friend's hand, standing up with his help.

“Alright,” Dempsey said, brushing himself off, “I believe you. I mean, this is unbelievable but—I believe you.”

“Yeah, it’s so shocking it just leaves me feeling kind of numb. I don’t even know what to do? Is this even a good thing? What does this mean?”

Dempsey placed a hand on Aki’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. "It’s definitely a good thing, Aki. How could it be bad to be able to use Syllogy? We need to tell Francis. He'll know what to do."

"Maybe," Aki said, "but I'm still super hungry right now."

Dempsey brought Aki into a tight hug. "I’m so relieved you weren't hurting yourself for no reason, Mrs. Special Tanuki. I'll make sure you get some meat today."

"I haven't had meat in a month! Let's get some beer too!" Aki exclaimed, embracing Dempsey.

"You're an Inheritor, then," Francis said, one of his hands massaging the temples of his grey-furred head.

Aki tore into her second cut of meat, slowing down to try and savor it, unlike the first. "What's that?" she asked with a half-full mouth.

"Very rarely when a Genitor reproduces, their offspring will be able to use Syllogy, although they'll lack the name required for signing any Tracks," Francis said.

"But my parents aren't Genitors, my father was just a carpenter, and Mom just took care of the house for the most part… I've never seen any Syllogy."

Genitors were a rare thing in modern days. Aki's parents had told her stories of when Genitors were first made from simple animals by the humans to be their servants. They were rarely created nowadays as the process was much more expensive than simply buying a slave from a breeding pen or slaver. In the rare cases they were encountered, Genitors had a reputation for being very eccentric, usually some flavor of deranged or damaged. Even still, they were the only way to get a slave who was also competent with Syllogy, and also the only way to bring new Authority into the world.

Well, I guess there’s another way to get a soulless that can use Syllogy, Aki thought, looking at the glove on her right hand.

"I think what you mean to say," Francis said, "Is that you didn't know they were Genitors. We all came from them. You were just lucky enough to be able to carry the torch of some of their powers. The chances of you Inheriting from other Inheritors is astronomically low. At least one of your parents had to be a Genitor."

Aki thought as she chewed her meat. Her childhood was never normal, although what soulless in a Free City had a "normal" childhood? Her parents had always stressed learning to fight and take care of herself. With mother taking most of the chores, Aki would spar with her father when she wasn't out foraging. They had always said it was for her protection. But why wouldn't they tell her about her powers? They must have known Inheriting was a possibility, at the very least.

Aki swallowed the shabby cut of meat, staring blankly at a corner of the room as her thoughts took priority over the enjoyment of her food.

Could it be Dad? I don’t remember Mom having any missing earrings.

Her father did have one of the lower Authorities, a single copper earring that he said he had inherited from his father and that he would pass on to her eventually. But other than that, she'd never seen a name, any weird colors, or seen her father use Syllogy. Could he really be a Genitor?

"Is there anyone who can teach her to use it?" Dempsey asked. "She's already passed out once from using the thing and got blood all over our walls. It seems too dangerous to experiment without any guidance."

"Her options are limited. The amount of people that can use unsigned Syllogy and are willing to teach it to a stray soulless is… Close to zero these days. And in this city, probably zero," Francis said.

"Didn't you say it came out of a training book?" Aki asked. " I could go back and get it!"

"I said it probably came from a book," Francis said, pausing. "But, you may be right… That could be your only chance to learn unsigned Syllogy."

"Alright! That's a plan; I'll just go grab the thing and come back.”

The reality of Aki’s powers were beginning to set in.

I can do this! I can learn Syllogy. I have the equipment, I have the power. Maybe I won’t have to be a burglar any more, maybe I can find Mom and Dad, maybe—

Francis stared at Aki with his beady eyes. "Aki, can you read?" He asked, interrupting her upwards spiral of optimistic thoughts.

"Well, not Empire Standard but—"

"Then how do you think you're going to find the book? Much less read it whatsoever."

Aki looked away and scratched her elbow awkwardly. "I-I just figured it would work out. I don't know..."

"You need to be careful now, Aki," Francis said. "You have almost been caught once and almost killed yourself with Syllogy. If you think you can just go into places with your new special powers and blow at people with no plan and be careless, you're wrong. If the wrong people see you using Syllogy, you're going to be hunted down. You think an uncontracted soulless that can use Syllogy is tolerated? Every Genitor is owned for a reason. It would be safest to just trash the thing and pretend none of this ever happened. Nothing good will come of this."

The words stung, tearing a fast hole in Aki’s fantasy. Francis was right, she couldn’t even read. How was she going to learn Syllogy at all, much less fast enough to get to her parents?

"I'll go with her," Dempsey interjected. "I can read well enough to find the book, and I'll have her back. We'll keep each other safe. Aki can fight without using Syllogy. If she can learn Syllogy, she'll be on the fast track to being on big jobs, which means more money. It's worth the risk."

Francis sighed and shook his head. His gaze was dripping of disapproval, like he was watching his eldest son try and defend his much dumber daughter. "Do as you please, Dempsey. I've kept this safehouse up for over a decade, but if you bring a manhunt on yourselves, there's nothing I can do for you."

“We’ve got this.”Dempsey replied and turned away.

Aki hugged Dempsey's arm gently and whispered her thanks to him.

"Come on, little miss Inheritor, let's get you to bed. You look drained," Dempsey said. He walked Aki upstairs as she felt her cheeks heat up under her fur at Dempsey's father-like treatment.

“You can do this, Aki. We can do this. Just think about how pleased your parents will be when they find out you’ve learned Syllogy.”

Maybe him being concerned about me all the time isn’t so bad, Aki thought with a smile.