the empty city - chapter 2
Second stroy upload...woo hoo. It's a little longer than the first, but I had more time to work on it, so there is that. Tried more detail in this one. Comments are welcome. And this is my first REAL uploaded work so please, by all means, be cruel.
"It's all a bad dream...IT'S JUST A REALLY BAD DREAM" Jake screamed at the mirror in front of him, closing his eyes so the vision in the reflection could vanish in peace. after a few moments filled with heavy breathing and clenched teeth, he opened his eyes and looked back into the glass.
the image was still the same. A black anthro cat stared back at him with a look of shock and horror on it's face. Jake lifted his right hand to his cheek as the cat in the mirror raised his left. as he ran his hand along his cheek, up the side of his face and across his now pointed ears, his reflection did the same. "This is just to trippy," was all he could say at that point. If anyone could hear his mind, on the other hand, they would have ripped their own ears off to be rid of the non-stop jittering.
'This is a dream. It's gotta be a dream. But it's not a dream. If it was a dream, I would have come to as soon as I thought it was a dream. So this isn't a dream. Damn it. Why can't it be a dream? Wait a minute, why am I freaking out? Sure, I look like I just stepped out of a Disney story book, but i'm alive. And I've got all my goods.........' he stopped mid-thought. reaching down to his waist, he undid the button and zipper on his cargos and slid them down to his knees. After grabbing his underware by the elastic and pulling them straight out, he sighed with relief, seeing his shaft and jewels still in their places. Surrounded by thick, smooth fur, but there none the less. Releasing his grip, allowing his boxers to fall back into place, he rolled his head back and thought, 'Yeah. still got all my goods.' instinctively he reached down and grabbed his pants and tried to pull them up, but stopped when his new tail twisted in a wierd angle and gave him a jolt of discomfort.
"what the hell?" he muttered as he turned and looked in the mirror to get a better view of the base of his tail.
Before he pulled down his pants, his tail was slid through a hole sewn into the back of his pants. When he pulled them down, his tail slipped out a little. And when he went to pull them back up the fur on his tail began to stand on end as the fabric pushed against each individual one and together they acted like a brake keeping his tail from returning to it's original position.
"Great..." he muttered as he slid a hand around to grab the belt loop above his tail as the other began to feed it back through the hole, "this'll take some getting used to."
After getting his tail and pants back in order, he gazed back at his reflection to get aquainted with his new look. As he turned his head left and right, he noticed there was a certain familiarity about his new face. as he examined his whiskers, muzzle and ears, he began thinking, 'this face reminds me alot of...'
"Salem." the word slipped from his lips before he could stop it. After saying it, he shivered. He hadn't so much as uttered that name in years. It was the name of a long-dead pet cat he had when he was little. Salem was Jake's "little buddy", who followed him around everywhere he went. And where ever he DIDN'T follow Jake, he rode on his shoulder like a parrot. He was Jake's favorite pet of all time.........and his last.
Thinking about his long-lost buddy caused Jake's chest to tighten up. So much pain at loosing such a friend.........he cast his eyes to the floor, unable to even look at his own face after seeing his old friend's in it.
Turning around, he trudged to the door and slowly pulled it open. He had to find something in the present to take his mind off of the past, or he would surely go mad.
Scanning the area he was in when he woke up in greater detail, he noticed a few key things that seemed more than a little off. Papers ranging from official forms to sales fliers littered the floor in random heaps, and more were scattered around in between. looking over at the reception desk he saw open brief cases with papers spilling out. 'well, that explains SOME of the mess.' he thought, shaking his head.
Continuing to permit his gaze to roam around freely, he noticed that the place looked like it was abandoned in more than a little hurry. Chairs were overturned, drink cups lay shattered in several places, and more than a few shoes were laying in some of the paper piles. He even spotted a toupe hidding under a toppled janitor's cart.
After another moment of glancing around, Jake cast his gaze to a pile near where he came to, there was something matte black sticking out of it. Moving closer, he knelt down, grabbed it and lifted it straight up without a second thought. The black thing was the last thing he expected it to be...
A large sniper rifle...
Upon seeing the ranged death-dealer, Jake froze up. He'd never handled such a large gun in his life, and never fired a gun of any kind at all. the weapon he now held in his hand seemed to have the air about it that just radiated 'KILLER' in every sense of the word. He looked through the windows at the streets outside. The roads were barren and lifeless, not even a car could be seen anywhere. All of the city seemed to be dead.
Jake swallowed hard, "I may need this." Lifting the assassin's weapon and taking it into both hands, he held it at his side. As the combination of steel, polymers, and plastics hung at his side, Jake felt a great sense of power come over him. An immense surge of energy rising seemingly out of some great abyss to fill every fiber of his being to the brim with primal strength.........and the hunger for more.
Dropping the gun to the carpet below, Jake staggered backward a little before falling onto his rear, landing on his tail in the process. After a yelp and a groan, he stared at the abomination before him, disgusted that he could come up with no good excuse to leave it behind.
"Damn it." he muttered under his breath as he got up and grabbed the gun again, this time holding it by the barrel. As he stood stock-still, he could feel the energy seeping through the metal and into his arm. Concentrating, he closed his eyes, focused on the energy, and as he let out a deep breath, it vanished leaving the cold steel behind.
Jake opened his eyes, glaring at the now lifeless object in his hand. Tossing it into the air, he grabbed the handle in his right hand and supported the rest with his left. He aimed the weapon out the window, pretending the was someone worth killing on the opposite corner of the street from him, and yet he felt no energy try to overtake him. The weapon in his hands was now just a dangerous hunk of steel.........that is, if you were staring down the barrel.
Lowering the gun so the tip of the barrel was an inch from the floor, Jake gazed out at the streets that seemed to stretch to infinity. there was no noise, no sounds of life, no sounds of death stalking the pavement, there was only silence. The kind of silence that death himself runs from, and it was all that Jake could hear.
Jake looked up as if trying to see through the roof, "Why does this crazy shit always happen to me?"