FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Before we begin, I, just like any other author here, would like to say a few words. First, as you all know (and if you don't you should), I do not own Digimon or any aspect of its empire. Second, I didn't even intend to make this about a Renomon, but anything else just made the plot fall flat on its ass. Third, I take full ownership over the specific characters herein, my mental property.

I doubt there will be any sex, and if there is, it definitely isn't in this chapter. There's a little violence towards the end, however.

This is my first attempt at a story like this, though that's not to say it will be bad. This is also most definitely not my first time writing seriously, though that's not to say it will be good. Tell me what you think afterwards.

If I've forgotten anything, too bad. Commence!

_ _ _ _ _

Sleep. Always necessary, always helpful. Not all of us can enjoy its healing power, though, even when we need it the most. Such is the case with Jason Temple. For the past few weeks, sleep has avoided him like the plague, and tonight is no different. His room, which not a month before was the picture of cleanliness, is covered in anything Jason had near his hands whenever a bout of frustration hit. And what has Jason so frustrated?

His life.

The more he thinks about his life, the more he starts to see that his existence is as boring as can be. Jason is of average weight, with average length brown hair, he is only a little above average height for a sixteen year old, and he wears average clothes. From the outside anyone would see Jason as the basic teenager. Fortunately for him, he is high above average intelligence. He thanks whatever Gods there may be that he has his mind, even if it does keep him awake. With it, he's always one step ahead of the peons he is forced to interact with day to day.

And that's all they are to him. No more than worthless bags of flesh who think they matter. Sadly, this mindset hasn't been the most helpful thing in his life; he loathes all but a handful of humans, including most of his own family. After isolating oneself like Jason has, it can be hard to find enjoyment in life. Confirming the observation that hardly anyone seems to use their brains anymore has added Jason to the ranks of the depressed.

'If only something interesting would happen to me..', he thinks, 'anything.' To him it seemed that all anyone wanted to do anymore was go to malls or participate in sports. Nothing would please him more than a diversion. A little spice in his otherwise menial day. As if on cue, another thought creeps into the back of Jason's head, unprovoked, almost as though it weren't his own; 'Be careful what you wish for..'

After one more hour of trying in vain to fall asleep, he decides to once more turn to his new best friend, pills. He groans before getting up and walking out into the hall of his parents' two-story apartment, as quietly as possible so as not to risk waking his younger sister or mother and father. On the way to the bathroom, inconveniently located at the end of the pitch black corridor along with its only light switch, Jason trips and falls on an unidentifiable mass.

"Damn it!", he yells, no longer putting forth the effort to stay silent. "Probably some of Cynthia's clothes.." He gropes around in the dark for the offending object, but finds the floor curiously clear. 'Odd.. God I must need sleep, I'm starting to hallucinate..' Jason thinks as he gets up off the ground to continue his search for the bathroom. When he reaches it at long last, he opens the opens the door, walks through it, flips the light switch, opens the medicine cabinet, pulls from it a small bottle of sleeping pills, twists off the cap, takes a pill into his mouth, and reverses each of those actions as swiftly as only a practiced professional could.

As Jason walks back to his room, but before he manages to reach it, the pain in his foot from his fall earlier starts to become more noticable, and his mind starts to fog up. He holds his hand in front of his face, illuminated by the dim light coming from the moon through the hall's windows. His hand starts to become shapeless, and forms into a gray blob, along with everything else in his vision, as sleep grants him its god-sent gift.

_ _ _ _ _

In the morning, Jason wakes up to a piercing scream.

'That sounds like Cynthia!', the thought races through his mind, giving him the sudden burst of energy he needs to hop to his feet. Normally his reflexes aren't this good, but Jason was not about to dwell in his head when his sister could be in trouble. He may not be fond of others, but Jason has never been one to allow suffering.

What he found when he stood up shocked him. In front of him, in her doorway, stood his sister. She was screaming and crying, but for some reason unknown to Jason, she was looking straight at him.

"Cynthia, what's wrong?" he asks. She appears almost startled to hear his voice, adding to his confusion.

"J.. Jason? Is.. is that you?" she says, still crying.

"Of course it's me! Who else could it possibly--" Jason cuts himself off. He had been gesticulating to add emphasis to his words, and just now caught sight of his hands. They were as grey as they had been last night, before he fell into sleep's comforting favor. Jason had simply assumed that the shape-shifting and color-changing he had witnessed the night before had simply been some effect on his vision caused by the combined efforts of his movements, the pills, and the pain in his foot. But something else was wrong. Each finger seemed wider, and he only had three on each hand.

"What the hell!?" Jason yelled to nobody in particular. He went into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror, but the movement was so sudden, he wasn't even sure he had done any walking. It was like he had teleported. This revelation left his mind as he remembered the mirror. He walked to the wall on which it was mounted and stood before it.

His jaw dropped.

Before him stood not a man, but a beast. A beautiful one at that. His body was completely gray, from what he could see through his clothes, which were now hanging loosely from his new lithe form. Sprouting from his back through rips in his shirt, Jason spotted six long, thin objects, and in his pants he could swear he felt a tail. His head, now half a foot higher in the air than last night, was more conical than its previous circular shape, and came to a point at a black nose which now adorned his new muzzle. His eyes no longer had whites, but in their place was a slate-like onyx black. His old black irises were now a silvery gray, slightly shinier than his fur. 'At least the pupils are still the right color' he jokes with himself inwardly. Another thing he found interesting about his changed self was a black marking under his right eye. It looked like a crescent with the rounded part facing downwards, and a black line coming down at it's center.

"Wow.. Not quite what I had in mind when I asked for something interesting.."

Cynthia, who had been standing, stunned from the shock of seeing her brother covered in fur, in her doorway, recovered her composure. She was trying to sort it all out when her brother emerged from the bathroom with what appeared to be a smile on his face.

"How the hell can you be smiling when you look like that!?", she said, her voice bordering on a scream.

"I dunno, I think it's pretty cool", Jason said as his smile began to grow. Cynthia's eyes went wide. She wasn't used to seeing her older brother smile; he usually looked so depressed, and now, of all times, he was happy. It took all her willpower to keep from walking over and knocking some sense into him, so she decided to hug him instead. 'I am happy for him after all, maybe he'll finally stop being so down all the time.'

"Huh? What are you doing?", he questioned. He wasn't accustomed to closeness.

"Hugging you, of course", Cynthia embraced Jason more tightly. "I have no idea how you can be smiling right now, but you are, and that has to be a first for you. I don't really mind how you look as long as I get to see you smile."

"Hmm. I am, aren't I? I'm happy you're taking this so well, but I'm not so sure how everyone else will react..", the smile began to fade as Jason thought about what people in his school would think, but he remembered a very important fact; he didn't really care.

_ _ _ _ _

Cynthia, in an attempt to keep Jason pleased, suggested she inform their parents about his 'condition' while he was at school. He protested at first, as he usually rode with his father to avoid the masses on his bus, but soon decided he would get to school by testing out his new body. But before that, he had to make a few preparations. After cutting a hole in the back of his pants for his tail, which he was now sure was real (not to mention extremely soft and fluffy), he threw on a studded belt to keep them from falling from his thinned waistline. He made a mental note to pick up some smaller, longer clothes on the way home, and he grabbed some extra money for the occasion.

Jason walked from the front door of the apartment, and the first thing he noticed was that he could see the horizon as clearly as the grass on the lawn before him. Putting that down in the "pro" column of a little graph he had erected in his imagination, Jason decided to climb the outside of the apartment and find out just how far his eyes permitted him to see. He thought about what way to get to the roof would be best. As he pondered, Jason tried to take into account what kind of skills an animal like him might have.

The first thing that came to mind was claws. He stared at one of his three-fingered hands, hoping that simply focusing hard enough would call his razors forth. When they didn't, he felt disheartened. He slumped on the grass and tried anything else that popped into his head. Time and time again, his fingers simply stayed the same. Submitting to his frustration, Jason slammed a fist into the ground, the initial impact of which was followed by a sharp pain in his palm. He brought his hand to his face and saw that his claws had finally extended, but in their curled position they had pricked the hardened skin on the bottom of his paw.

After carefully removing each finger using his other hand, Jason took a better look at the claws. They were very thin width wise, but lengthwise each was about two thirds of the size of his fingers, and each glistened in the sun with his fresh blood, seeming to add to their beauty. 'So they only come out when I'm attacking, eh?' With this thought, Jason stood up and made a motion with his claw-less hand as though he were about to strike down some invisible foe. Sure enough, the keen-edged barbs flew from their prisons with a deadly speed.

Grinning at his new weapons, Jason turned his attention to the brick wall of the apartment building. He slowly advanced upon it and drove three staccato-like nails into the cement that held the bricks together. He did the same with his other hand, higher into the wall, continuing in this manner until he was on the roof. Once there, Jason took a look in the same direction he had when he was on the ground. He could see even further now, and just as clearly. It was refreshing to know that so many of these changes benefited him.

After a short while, the full gravity of his situation hit him. There he was, on the roof of a two-story dwelling, where it would be hard to get back to via the same method he had used to get up. Taking a step towards the edge of the building, Jason felt a rare pang of fear deep in his gullet. 'Two stories is a big fall..', he thought, '.. Aw, hell! I'll never learn my limits if I don't test them.' With that, and a bit of mental preparation, he took a grand leap from the rooftop. The fall was actually quite enjoyable. The wind running between each of hair of Jason's fur was proving to be very exhilarating.

As he landed, he tucked into a ball and rolled for a few feet, the impact having almost no impact on his body, other than the fresh grass stains on his clothes. From his now ball-like position, Jason had a clear view of his feet, which were decidedly shoe-less. He assumed the reason was their size; they were massive paws, nothing human about them now. 'Jeez! No shoes anymore, eh? Not even in my wildest nightmares could I possibly imagine how dirty these things will be by the end of the day! That's one for the "con" column..'

He stood up, dusted himself off, and tried his best to rub out the stains. Soon satisfied, Jason started to travel along the sidewalk. He began slowly, and as he strolled he found that he could barely feel himself moving, as if walking this speed was putting about as much strain on his body as one would receive while pushing a feather. He proceeded to walk a bit more quickly, but when he realized that this, too, was expending almost no energy, and getting him nowhere fast, he broke out in a full sprint.

He ran like any human would, on two legs, arms at his sides moving back and forth. For some reason, this felt odd, even though he had done it a million times before. It felt unnatural. He decided to simply let his instincts take over and see how his body wants to move. Before he knew it, he was running on all fours, much like a wolf. He was making excellent time, so good that he was sure he would get to school early, yet another item on the long list of firsts that Jason had experienced in the past few hours.

_ _ _ _ _

Around this time, 7:56 A.M., about twenty minutes before the start of the day, not many students are in their homerooms at Huntington High. The only people within the nearly barren halls were either staff or those who had gotten there without the use of a bus, as the buses didn't empty their load unto the school before 8:10. The scant few that were in room number 206, along with the assigned instructor, who's name Jason had never bothered to learn, were in for a big surprise. While they spoke amongst themselves of things he would no doubt have found trivial and uninteresting, Jason entered the room with a confidence he didn't know he had.

Before the homeroom teacher could pull her jaw up off the floor and ask him who the hell he was and what the hell he was doing there, Jason simply flashed her a toothy grin, waved, went to his seat, and sat down, taking care to keep his tail out of the way. As he did so, a raging torrent of questions surged into the brains of all who had seen him. The first to set their query to words was a girl near the back of the room, another nameless person to Jason.

"Is that Jason?", she asked the boy next to her. Her question surprised everyone, even Jason himself.

"How did you know?", Jason asked back.

"Your clothes", she answered, motioning to his plain, solid dark blue shirt and baggy dark tan jeans, "you always wear plain stuff like that." This surprised Jason. He wasn't expecting this much from anyone, let alone someone as meek-looking as the female before him. 'A human that uses her head, hm?', he thinks, 'They should present her with some kind of plaque.'

"Good work, what's your name again?", he said, feeling that this person deserves at least minimal respect.

"Huh? It's Jamie.. but we've been in the same classes for nearly two years.." Before Jason could explain himself, another voice made itself known.

"Who cares? What I wanna know is why the hell you look like that!" It belonged to a snappily clad male on the side of the room closest to the door. 'Ahh.. what's this one called?', thought Jason, 'I want to say Robert..'

"Look, Rob--"

"Bill"

"Yeah, whatever. All I know is that I wished for something interesting to happen because the pack of you were boring the life out of me, and poof! I wake up the next morning with six fingers and a tail!" More students were starting to come into the room now. All of them were just as surprised as the original ones had been. Jason was forced to retell the story countless times over, once for each new person to enter. Naturally, this wasn't aiding his view on humans.

As the minutes dredged on, Jason was happy to see that it was almost time for homeroom to let out. Normally, one would think that he wouldn't be looking forward to any class over another, but luckily for him, he had his favorite teacher for the next two periods of the school day.

_ _ _ _ _

George Howard was special to Jason. He wasn't just another English teacher, he was the only person Jason knew who shared his mutual disdain for most beings on the planet. This hate had caused a bond to form between them, unspoken, lest they betray the fact that they're actually fond of someone. Mr. Howard and Jason just seemed to click, as if they were a father and son who had been separated by a mix-up with George's actual son, who the old man was disappointed with on a daily basis. If it weren't for the age difference they could probably even pass for brothers.

Jason also felt that George would be the only person that wouldn't ask for an explanation. 'Thank God some people still respect others' privacy nowadays', Jason stated to himself, 'There might be hope for the human race after all!' So here we rejoin our protagonist, walking lazily towards room 324, calm as you please, leaving a war zone of confused faces in his wake. Jason couldn't help but laugh at that. Before he was even through the door, a fatherly rang out from within.

"Good morning, Mr. Temple, you seem well.", said George.

"Hello, Mr. Howard, you look well yourself, and you have no idea how good I feel.", replied Jason, returning the usual banter.

"Is that so? What has you s--", George cuts himself off, having just gotten a look at Jason for the first time since he entered, "Hmm.. interesting." Just as Jason thought, Mr. Howard asked nothing more of him, and looked back to the papers with which he had been previously occupied.

More students walked in as the bells of warning and then lateness rang out. Most had grouped around Jason, bombarding him with questions, all of which he ignored, taking pleasure in watching them grow writhe with a lack of information. Others had been in Jason's homeroom, but even some of them were equally confused. Eventually Mr. Howard got sick of their prattling, and decided to put a stop to it.

"Silence!", he yelled, catching everyone but Jason off guard, "You are in this classroom to learn English! Not to bother Mr. Temple with your ceaseless nagging!"

"I think we all have a right to know why he looks like an fucking animal!", said one rather plain looking girl.

"Guess again..", muttered Jason. After all the questioning died down, the lesson was relatively uneventful. There was the occasional whisper along the lines of "What's with the fur?" from those who had come in late, but each was systematically silenced by the students next to them.

After English, the day only got worse. Jason couldn't take three steps without someone he didn't know trying to talk to him. The next few periods came and went, but the questions remained. Why was he covered in fur? What was he trying to pull? How come he wouldn't answer? On and on and on the humans went. Relentless in their determination to turn Jason's life into a living hell once more.

He found some solace in the fact that Physical Education was the next period on his schedule, and they had recently been participating in timed mile-long runs. Jason walked into the locker room and received the expected "Ooh"'s, "Ahh"'s, and "What the fuck"'s. He had wanted to simply skip getting changed to save himself the interrogations, but knowing that the track that they run on was nothing but dirt and chalk, and remembering that he probably won't be running like a human, Jason decided to go shirtless so as not to ruin his outfit. As he took off his shirt and stuffed it in a locker, he found that the fur on his abdominals and up to his neck was actually a snowy white, and not the usual gray.

After that pleasant surprise he walked out on to the track to find people stretching. Fortunately he had already seen most of these people earlier in the day, and so they didn't pester him. The rest were Seniors who also happened to be out on the track this period, and who had apparently caught word of the state Jason was in. Upon seeing him, a few of them adopted expressions of utter disgust. Until he saw these guys, Jason had sensed a little bit of fear from all the people he had encountered today, excepting Mr. Howard. These beings, however, most likely more courageous due to their increased size or inflated egos, seemed only to view him as just another cocky Sophomore.

A few of the more meatier Seniors of the bunch walked out to Jason before he reached the track. They formed a small line, effectively blocking his gait's progression.

"And what are you supposed to be?", one asked. Jason didn't answer. He simply turned his gaze towards the speaker and gave him a look as cold as ice.

"He asked you a question, pussycat!", another piped up. That was strike one. Jason still remained silent, but closed his eyes as if in thought.

"You deaf or somethin', pussy?", a third Senior said, most likely the leader judging from the front-most position he took. Strike two. All Jason needed now was for them to assault him. Anything afterwards could be passed off as "self-defense".

"Well?", the leader asked, beginning to advance on Jason, "Answer me!" He was looking to punctuate the command with a punch to the ribs, but as his fist neared, Jason opened his eyes, which now sported slitted pupil, and disappeared. Before the Senior's fight-softened mind had a chance to process this, he heard a gruff voice from above.

"Bad idea, oaf!"

The last thing the leader of the group knew before he passed out was a surge of pain through his back as three claws ripped through his flesh, and the blood-curdling snap of his elbow as a large paw-like foot came in contact with it. He collapsed to the ground, head swimming, back gushing blood, as Jason stood behind him, face beaming, licking the crimson from his extremities.

That image would be enough to strike fear into the boldest men's hearts, and the group who had been following the mangled form on the ground couldn't exactly be described as bold men. Those who weren't frozen with fear ran for their lives, but Jason didn't intend to chase them. The more left standing, the faster word would spread that he isn't to be angered. Maybe people would stop bothering him.

Wishful thinking.

Not five minutes later a regular mob had gathered, all wanting to know what had happened. 'Of course.. The one thing I want to do less than anything else is the one thing I have to; explaining. What I wouldn't give to be alone..' To his surprise, everyone around him vanished. The wounded dunce at his feet was gone, too. In they're place were pine trees, as far as the eye could see. More than a bit surprised, Jason decided it best to scale a tree and get his bearings.

The soft wood was much more easy on his claws than the cement had been, and as he removed and replaced them within the tree they became coated with increasing levels of sap. Near the treetop, he stopped and licked one, finding the gold-colored honey deliciously sweet. At the top, Jason was able to spot the school not far away; as luck would have it he was in the woods behind it.

'I guess there's no real hurry', he concludes, 'The longer I stay here, the longer I'll have peace.' He thrusted his nails once more into the tree, eating his fill of sap before falling into a deep sleep, unaided by pills for the first time in a long while.

_ _ _ _ _

To be continued.

_ _ _ _ _

So what did you think?

Any questions? Comments? Speak up. Now!

I honestly thought I began to skimp a little on the detail from the time I started talking about school, but something that bores me in real life makes for hard writing material. That's why I chose to make it about a Renomon. If I didn't relocate this story to the digital world at some point (most likely in the next chapter or the one following) I'm sure I would go insane. As insane as a slave-powered factory used chiefly in the creation of shoe-flavored carbonated beverages, buddy.