FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Yeah, sorry for not posting this sooner. =( But I don't have Internet for my own computer right now, so I have to do all this stuff on another PC, which is on dial-up and I'm using Wordpad. I wish the situation was better, but I use what I have.

I want to take a moment to thank Alex Reynard for making this story possible and also for all of his help. He helped edit some mistakes (I suck at editing and am not perfect at English, especially when I get engrossed into writing a story) and also gave a lot good suggestions and advice (I had three or four different names I went through on the main character, until Alex suggested Spire and I liked it), but most of all, he wrote the Bartleby tales. He's a way better writer than me, so I highly suggest reading his work at his FurRag account, which is here: http://www.furrag.com/author/1684/ Reading his Bartleby stories before this might also make my spinoff chapter less confusing, as I glaze over some important information (because I'm lazy).

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On a bed, two lay with one another. One, a much taller, stronger male fox. Most of the beast's features were common. Fur color, orange. Muzzle had some brown on it. Neck, stomach and crotch were white. From the looks of 'em, it'd be fair to guess he was somewhere in his twenties.

Underneath, another male. But younger, fifteen or so. It was a jackal with fur black of the strongest kind, a body that was feminine and short. On top of his fluffy head was a unique hairdo, having brushed most of the headfur to arch over his left green-colored eye.

"Please... please, stop!" a little jackal cried out, face wet with tears.

But it didn't stop. The pain kept coming like an endless waterfall, each hard thrust becoming worse. However, it wasn't the forced sex that hurt quite as much as the betrayal. He whimpered to himself, 'I thought I loved you. I looked past all those awful things. Now, I don't know why I did.'

The older fox grunted and had his eyes closed, focusing only on the pleasure. Perhaps closed eyes so that he could ignore his conscience, Spire joked darkly to himself. For some reason, with every second, it just somehow stopped mattering anymore. He knew of the snuck-in males, the lies about where the money went, most of everything, but why, how did the jackal look past all that?

Body ignored mind, and the young Spire's cock hardening despite the filthiness of the situation. Oll the fox drooled down as if his selfish brain was completely primitive, saliva covering up the victim more than the tears had.

"Please..." No answer was given. Instead, Oll held down his boyfriend with more firmness and increased the pace, pre-fluids and blood making a crude lubricant. Shamefully, against his will, Spire could feel his cock swell up, rubbing against fox fur, tickling with tease.

Loud moans of pleasure and cries of agony filled the room when the knot was popped in, locking the two of them together as seed filled up the brown pup's ass. Wordlessly, they laid together, not looking into one another's eyes. Only once did they almost meet gazes, when the little jackal peeked down to look, confirming the nightmare. His cock was covered in his own semen, rubbing against a belly of fur, length slowly retreating back to its' sheath.

"You know you liked it," a chuckle emitted from Oll's muzzle after pulling out, then grabbed his mate's clothes and tossed them to him. "Go home," was all he said.

As quickly as possible, Spire dressed and left, slamming the door hard behind him. Rich snotty-nosed neighborhood for a rich snotty-nosed bastard. All that sadness from before was quickly turning to anger. He walked down the steps and kicked a flower pot over angrily, shattering it to pieces.

It began raining, it grew dark. The sun had set awhile ago, which wasn't a good mix with the powerful mix of emotions. "FUUUUUUCK!" Spire cursed at the sky continuously, shouting random obscenities and even making up some. After all they had been through together, this... why did this happen? Was it deserved? If not, then what is justice? Was it non-existent, or on a vacation?

Pain surged through like a nail being hammered through the jackal's skull. There was no real reason for it, it simply happened. He fell down to his knees, holding his head in palms, gasping from the pain. Losing balance, Spire quickly found himself in a ditch, a nice puddle starting to form. The water rose as rain fell.

Here, he thought of not moving. There wasn't much to go home to, or to look forward to. His rapist, heartless boyfriend didn't seem to care much. Family, oh, please, don't even start with that. Spire hated everyone. Maybe it was intolerance, stupidity, an extreme mental health problem. Who cares? Certainly not our friend, laying in the water as it rose, covering his head. Oxygen was yesterday's news, water is a lung's best meal for tonight.

What about the future?... What future? This canine wasn't particularly talented to the extreme in anything, though that could be fixed with practice, perhaps. But even then, it was so hard to look forward to anything. No friends, no lover. No point.

Just as consciousness began to leave the hero, his ears picked up on something. Underneath water, it was hard to make out, but it sounded definitely like some kind of.. fight? Maybe laughs and yelling, too.

'God damn it, why do I have to be a nice person? I wish I was born without a heart,' Spire thought to himself in annoyance, climbing out of the ditch and gasping for air.

"-money, fag!" three tall, older furries laughed at a short bunny, who was being pressed against a car by a tall and strong-looking hyena. The others were a coyote and a lynx. Spire coughed up water and climbed out slowly, the noise of his mouth catching their attention.

It was only for a moment, though, since they decided to ignore the random passer-by who didn't appear to be a threat. The coyote, though, did give the finger and said to just go home.

"Help! They're trying to mug me and-!" Punch. Instant knockout, followed by the rabbit's wallet being pulled out from his pocket.

Spire began stepping towards the hyena, intentions obvious. The coyote and lynx stepped in front of him "Nuh-uh, pup. You're just going to turn around and walk away."

"This is a bad neighborhood, shit happens all the time," the lynx continued for his friend, flicking a finger against the younger jackal's muzzle. "The cops won't care about this as much as the average number of murders that happen in the same area, so don't even think about doin' that, friend."

"Did you two know it's a good night for a swim?" Spire asked, ignoring their comments. Confused, they just stared at him for a moment, before they were tripped and pushed over into the ditch. The jackal laughed menacingly, staring back at them. He turned to face the final opponent.

Hyena-man was frantically trying to open his car, fumbling with the keys and eventually dropping them. Once that happened, the asshole turned around and chuckled with extreme nervousness.

Hands raised up in fear and defense, "Hey, man. How's tonight? You look good covered in water and mud. New fashion statement?"

"Eat shit." In an instant, Spire grabbed Mr. Hyena's muzzle, the poor spotted creature found his head being smacked hard against the car, putting a dent in it. As well, instant knockout.

Turning just to make sure the others weren't up to something, the ditch was now empty. Ha! The cowards must've ran off. Oh well.

He bent down low on the ground, pulling out the stolen wallet, then... shrugged. 'What the hell,' and grabbed the hyena's own wallet, pulled out all the money from it and put it in the bunny's. Both folded leathers were then put in their rightful owner's pockets.

After a splash of water (obtained with cupped hands from the ditch), the rabbit was awakened.

"Wha-?"

"You're okay now. Just... just go home." He gave no more words, standing up and turning around, walking away. Spire thought the bunny might have been yelling to him, calling out thank you's and asking for an exchange of names, but it wasn't important. It was pointless to make friends tonight, because this would be the last one.

Dad, as usual, was sitting at a table with his friends, playing poker. Instead of betting money, though, they put drugs on the line. Mostly pot, but sometimes 'other stuff'.

"Jesus Christ, son! You're more soaked than a drooling retarded cheetah!" the old man yelled in surprise, rushing up to his son. He placed an arm around Spire's shoulder, "You haven't been hanging around with them foreigners again, have ya'?"

"Or those gays?" the mother figure asked, looking up from the couch with a shitty TV talk show on.

With disgust, the hand was shrugged off. "Go eat a cock."

A door slammed for the second time. Spire pressed his back against the door, slowly falling down on his rump, sitting alone in a dark room.

For hours, he sat there in complete silence, never moving an inch. It was only a matter of waiting now. All of his life had been a waiting game. A little longer won't hurt. Eventually, waiting paid off when the prejudice friends left, the racist father and homophobic mother went to sleep together.

Now was the time. Spire stood up from the puddle that had formed on the ground and walked down the bedroom stairs, the rotten wood creaking with each step.

Quietness wasn't exactly needed when you were dealing with morons, but Spire used stealth as best as possible nonetheless. The door was left open. Like every other doofus, Father hid the rifle underneath the bed, shells in the closet.

He grabbed them, and went back to his bedroom.

The whole street woke up from the abrupt gunshot.

"Grugh..." Spire cracked his eyes open, adjusting them to the bright red light everywhere. What the hell was this?

Well, one thing was known. It seemed like the jackal had gotten a good rest, as his face was covered in drool, a puddle on the ground with a thin string that went to his lips.

He wiped his mouth, "I guess the gun didn't kill me, but that doesn't explain where I am now. I should be in a hospital. And, why exactly am I naked?... Oh well, that's the least of my worries. I think."

With a quick glance around, it was soon figured out there wasn't any escape. At least not an obvious one. Everything was just a bright glowy red surface. No door, no window. The ground felt like plastic.

"Maybe I should have just let myself drown instead of helping that rabbit." A loud sigh filled the room. "No one would have found me, I'd have died, then I wouldn't be here."

"Actually," a smooth voice started, a creature stepping in by opening a door out of nowhere. Must be a handle only on one side, Spire though quickly. "You'd be here, anyways."

It was a grey mouse, dressed in a black suit. Someone sure's ready for a funeral, Spire thought, standing up quickly. The person looked normal, maybe even cute, other than those small horns on his head. 'Oh man, was I kidnapped by some freak show and I'm going to have to join the circus now?'

"Who are you?" the jackal demanded, backing up into a corner.

The mouse held up his hands, "Relax. I'm Tom, I'm here to-"

"Where the hell is this?!" Spire yelled, feeling his anger boil up. "I was busy, damn it! I don't know what's going on, but you can't just kidnap people!"

"I didn't kidnap you," Tom replied, completely calm. "Spire, you're dead."

The fact the stranger knew his name took the jackal by surprise. There had to be an explanation for it, though. "I'm not dead. If I was, then why am I here? Death's just an empty black void of eternal nothingness."

A sigh. "You couldn't be more wrong."

"I am? Then prove it. Show me I'm really dead."

With a nod, Tom held out his hand. A magical poof later, a notebook appeared from nowhere. 'How? Got to be some kind of trick.'

"Well, let's see... Oh, how about this one!" A serious gaze casted of the mouse's face, locking eyes with Spire. "You were raped the night you killed yourself. You tried to drown, but then overheard some scumbags taking advantage of a random fur in your neighborhood. You turned the table by taking money from one of them and gave it to someone who deserves it far more. They were poor, just like you, but you allowed them to eat very well that night. You went home, waited silently and wide awake until your parents went to sleep, took their gun and ended up falling down here. That about sum up your night?"

His face cracked. It couldn't be true, their had to be some real explanation. "No, no! You just... got all that from someone else. Police reports, the news. It's all some well-done scam!"

Tom shrugged, "I guess it might be possible to get most of that from other sources, but in such fluid detail? And why would I try to scam you? There's nothing to gain from you, you come from a poor family. You don't consider yourself skilled. What do you think I'd be doing?"

"Y-you're just... trying to brainwash me, so that I don't try to escape. So you can rape me, like Oll." The jackal shivered in fear, curling up in a ball on the floor.

Watching the poor creature on the ground like that brought a tear to the mouse's eye. If only things could be easier than this. "Hon, I'll never touch you if you don't want me to. No one should be able to. What happened was terrible. I'm not trying to brainwash you."

Truth slowly ebbed away at the shores of denial inside Spire's head. He swallowed hard, trying to push the facts back, telling himself it's all fake, but if it was, then why was his head in absolute perfect condition? The jackal lifted a hand up to his head, feeling around. Not even a scar. But... oh wait, what the hell?! That's not possible, is it? There were horns on the top of his head! With eagerness, Spire yanked hard on them and pulled them off with utter ease. The lack of difficulty in it was a bit odd, but he just tossed them aside without much more thought.

"I'm... really dead, aren't I?" he asked.

A nod, along with a comforting smile, was given. "Yes, but please, don't be afraid. Here, you'll never have to worry about the problems you used to have. It's starting over down here, y-"

"What? 'Down here'? You mean?... I'm...?!" Fear started raining down like an angry thunderstorm, Spire being a tiny puppy hiding underneath its' owners bed.

"In Hell?" Tom asked. Spire nodded. "Please, don't be scared. Nothing can harm you anymore, no one will be mean to you. Just know that before I really say it, but yes. You are in Hell."

It couldn't be helped, but the jackal burst out in tears, cradling himself. "Oh, dear, please. Don't cry." Tom held him in a warm, loving hug for what seemed like forever, but was only a few minutes. When the tears stopped, the mouse's chest was fairly wet.

"You know, I thought after I died, there'd be nothing afterwards. But now, all I have is to dwell on how shitty everything was, alone." Spire whimpered out, staring down at the floor.

Tom lifted Spire's chin, so that they were looking into each other's eyes. Nothing but love was shown on the grey one's face. "No, my friend. You're not alone anymore."

Somehow, the comforting attempt didn't have as strong as an effect as it was meant to have. Spire still felt empty inside. Even if others were here, even if this person next to him was so nice, what did it amount to? The only person the jackal had ever loved turned against him, used him. Without a love, life meant nothing.

"I'm sorry, but I think I'd like to be alone for awhile," Spire pleaded solemnly.

"I understand," Tom whispered, then gave the boy a pat. "Follow me, I'll take you to room."

Spire rose, standing close behind. He expected for the door to open again and to walk up stairs, or an elevator, but instead, Tom held out his hand and poked the air with a finger. It caused some kind of rip in space, the hole quickly enlarging enough to be stepped in to. For someone seeing it for their first time, it was a bit frightening.

"Remember, nothing can hurt you anymore," Tom comforted, holding out a hand patiently. Hesitantly, Spire took hold of it.

They stepped through.

What seemed to be only one second later, the two appeared in a dark room. The jackal's eyes slowly adjusted, able to make out a bed, but not much else. 'I guess this is my room.' He really wished there was some light, though. And, just as soon as the thought crossed his mind, there was light!

Spire gasped. Was this really Hell?

"How?..." the canine asked, trailing off in amazement.

"Your physical body is gone, as you know," Tom began to explain. "You're only here through spiritual means, and so is everything else. It's all made from your mind's desires."

The light on the ceiling cast down visibility on the rest of the room. Against a wall was a large LCD television, with multiple game consoles plugged into it. To the left of the TV was a bookshelf that was instead filled to the brim with games, a computer on the right. In a corner, there was a small, simple-looking bed. A strange mix, with all the other expensive items, but from sitting down to sprawling over the comfortable mattress, Spire sighed in content. It felt great, and it wasn't necessary to have anything bigger with only one person. Everything matched the jackal's inner desire to not be a hog of space, but having lots of fun junk at the same time. It almost made him happy. Almost.

"So, it's all fake? An illusion?" Spire asked.

The mouse smiled some and shook his head, "They're real, just not in the way you're used to perceiving reality as. If it was fake, then your soul would be too, and so would everything else down here.With that kind of point of view, how meaningful is the afterlife if it's all nothing but an endless, fake dream? Wouldn't that be sad?"

'Makes sense,' he thought to himself, yawning out loud. All this being-dead-but-not stuff was a big drain to take on. Just as he began to close his eyes, about to doze off for a much desired mental rest, Tom place a hand Spire's shoulder.

"There's still something you should know," the mouse said, taking a seat on the bed next to the younger male.

"What is it?" His voice sounded more annoyed than what he intended.

Tom began to gently pet the adorable black furry laying down, and sat next to him. "If I don't tear your heart from your chest before your first one hundred hours of entering Hell, your soul will cease to exist."

Multiple emotions fluttered around in the jackal's stomach, circulating through his blood. When they reached his head, he wasn't sure what to think, or feel. But, slowly, his brain reached a conclusion.

Spire closed his eyes, "I told you that before I killed myself, I thought the afterlife wouldn't exist. No Heaven or Hell, no souls. I don't want to dwell on what life used to be like, so if I'm going to die for real in a hundred hours, then I can hardly wait."

Those were sad words to hear. Sad indeed. Tom's eyes watered, barely able to hold back the sobs. But, he somehow miraculously managed. "I dearly hope that changes before then. That you'll find new friends, new people to love. There's so much for you here."

With that, the grey cheese-lover rose to his feet, opened the door and left. Before sleep fully took over, one last thought flowed through.

"I hope so, too."

In the midst of the jackal's dream, a portal that was just like what Tom had opened before appeared in the middle of the canine's bed, sucking him in...

Spire yelped out and opened his eyes wide. His eyes quickly adjusted and he found himself sitting down in what appeared to be a graveyard. Nearby, a few footsteps were heard, then a long moan that was carried along with the wind.

The canine shuddered, both due to the fact the burial ground was cold in the night, and fear. A part of him wanted to leave, but another part went, "We're suicidal, what do we have to lose? Might as well see what the hell's going on."

And so, he rose to his feet. A quick glance around revealed nothing, but then, another random furry leaped up from behind a tombstone, stuck its' face only mere inches away from the victim of a jackal and yelled. It was, it was a zombie! A male bat-eared fox zombie, with smelly, rotten flesh in areas, pale skin that flaked off in others and it drooled pure black saliva.

"Grrrraaaagh!" In a stereotypical way you'd expect a zombie to groan, it did, including reaching its' hands out.

Spire's shoulders were grabbed and he began panicking, struggling to get free from the monstrous freak trying to eat him. Was this a nightmare?! Maybe he was only dreaming, still on his bed. At home, not dead, or in Hell.

"Wake up, wake up!" the jackal kept yelling at himself, closing his eyes tightly.

Then, all the struggling stopped. He was released and fell on the ground, looking up in surprise. The canine half-expected to be in his bedroom, but was instead still in the graveyard.

The zombie frowned and crossed his arms, "Jeez, man, calm down. I was only playing. You were really scared?" A smirk formed on the bat-eared creature's face with the last part.

Denying it would be stupid, he knew. It was obvious Spire almost pissed himself. He stood up and brushed the dirt off of his fur.

"Where am I?" Spire rudely asked, looking around to see if there was any sort of familiar surroundings. Only the full moon gave any light, but didn't seem to help focus eyesight on things at a distance. This place was alien. It definitely wasn't the graveyard back home, so...

"Huh, you're new here, aren't you?" the fox asked, cocking his head.

Nodding, Spire replied with glum, "Yes, I am..."

"Oh, jeez! I'm sorry about that!" the creature immediately apologized upon hearing about the newcomer's arrival. The sudden change of attitude was surprising, as well as the tight hug that followed. "If I knew, I wouldn't have scared you so bad. I'm just used to eating first, talking later."

The smell of a dead, rotting body was a lot worse up-close. Somehow, Spire didn't gag or cough. At least not loudly. "Eat?!"

"Well, I am a zombie, you know!" the fox declared with cheerful pride. He released the hug, then pointed to his chest. "I'm Etal."

The jackal reached out, and they shook hands. "Spire."

Etal seemed almost hyper now, excited to meet someone new. The boy was practically bouncing with joy. "So, uhm, do you mind if I have a nibble of you? It won't hurt, it'll actually feel good."

He arched an eyebrow, "It will?"

"Yep! In Hell, people only feel just as much pain as what they deserve. Since you're in the Naughty level, that means you probably deserve about none, so anything that'd normally hurt would instead feel good," the smiling fox explained, wagging his dirty tail madly.

"Naughty level?"

"Wow, you don't know much of anything, do ya'? Not your fault, though." Getting comfortable, Etal leaned against a tombstone. It was marked with his name, amusingly enough. "There's seven levels. You're in the second-highest. Here, it's like a giant party. No pain, no work, all fun and games. Particularly the naughty kinds of fun and games," he finished with a smirk. "Though, that's really some basic stuff your Hellguardian should've told you when you got here."

Spire shook his head, "I was in a rush to be alone. It's not his fault."

"So, come on! Can I nibble on you? Pleeeeeeease?"

That puppy-dog face made it impossible to turn it down, even if the jackal didn't want to do it. "Oh, fine. But, please, don't hurt me."

"I won't," he promised, taking a step closer.

Fangs pressed gently against Spire's shoulder, gradually applying more and more pressure, until it pierced skin and crushed down with strength. Just as the fox had said, it didn't hurt at all. It God damn felt good, wonderful even! A moan escaped him as he fell down on the ground with the zombie on top of him. Spire hugged Etal tightly, lifting a leg to wrap over the bat-eared creature's waist. There was no blood in any of this, the sight of flesh being ripped off without even any ripping sounds, or strings of flesh was almost comical. It was more like biting into cake than into a living person.

"Oh, please, more! Eat more!" he begged, sheath quickly growing plump.

A grin spread over the zombie fox's face, "You sure are enjoying this. Why don't I go a little further, hm?"

Etal slithered down his prey's body, until his face was hovering above the now-hardened erection. Spire looked down, getting a plain view of the sight. Etal opened his mouth and licked, that black saliva from before now covering the pulsing red cock until you couldn't tell it was red anymore. Oh, the sensation of it almost made him cum! Until, in one quick snap of a jaw, it was all gone, stick and sack together!

Oddly enough, the jackal meat was still spurting out its' love seed down Etal's throat as he swallowed it down. A bit of it was left on the fox's lips, which was swiftly licked away. He patted his stomach.

"Mmm, quite tasty, if I say myself," the bat-eared creature complimented, smiling in an almost sinister way.

Spire was speechless, staring down with wide-eyes and panting heavy. It felt great, yes, but... "Oh my God, I have no cock! What the hell do I do?!"

A laugh erupted as if the escalators did, in fact, become stairs at that very moment. "Wish it back!"

"Huh?"

"You can wish it back. Just concentrate. If you want yourself to become whole again, then it'll happen. You can even change your original looks to something different, too," Etal explained.

So, he closed his eyes and thought hard. 'Please, for the love of... well, Satan, put my body back together!' There was a cartoony popping noise, and when Spire opened his eyes again, there it was! His whole body was back to normal, just like it was before.

"Well, uhm," Spire began, feeling a bit awkward. He hated being new to things. "Thanks."

"You should try it yourself sometime. Being undead is so much fun!" Etal cheered.

Laughing nervously, Spire shrugged, "Hehe, uhm, maybe later?"

After the two had promised to meet up again sometime, they parted ways. Spire was taught how to create portals by Etal, who was again surprised the jackal had not learned about it before. Oh well, it was just how things had went with the insistence of being alone before, with Tom.

The canine sat on the bed in his room, leaning up against the wall. He had already spent a few hours playing some games he always wanted to before death had its showdown, but the entertainment was only temporary. Sadness once again reared its' ugly face back in with a grin.

A sigh. Then, a tear.

Five minutes before Spire perished...

A hysterical, insane laugh echoed endlessly in a dark bedroom, water dripping down from the dilapidated ceiling. It was a cheap apartment in the ghetto, not much in the room other than a door that lead to an equally bad bathroom, no carpet, warped floorboards, a very old TV, a fucked up bed with some stains you'd know, some you couldn't fathom.

Sitting down in a fetal position and leaning against the wall in a dark corner was a maniac of a hyena. Brown fur, some black spots and patches, muzzle, feet and hands with darker tints of brown and a full mane. From the looks of him, he might not have cleaned himself in awhile. Dirt and even some of his own blood covered parts of his own fur, where he had cut himself. Not out of attempting suicide, but for the sheer enjoyment of it. As well, the male was naked, with a blue jumpsuit laying out in front of him with the name tag "Damon".

Damon's imaginary friend walked into view from the corner of his eye, smiling. The fake creature was an exact mirror image of Damon, except for a few distinct factors. The eyes were pure white, no pupils at all. His maw was always wide open, with unrealistically demonic long fangs dripping with saliva and crimson. No mouth movement was ever made with speech, instead, it seemed to be telepathic.

He liked to call him Demon. It was kind of funny.

"You have a lot of work to do today," Demon whispered mentally.

More laughs and chuckles, "But you always work me so hard. I just want to sleep. It's been days."

"I know, I know. Poor you," the mirror hyena comforted, with obvious sarcasm. "But this is important. Someone deserves it, they deserve it good."

In an instant, Damon stopped laughing. It was incredibly unsettling, to have such a massive outburst of jolly laughter to complete quietness. "Why?"

"If I bothered to answer why, there would be no time! Get your ass dressed, then let's go for a nice little drive..."

Parked in the garage (which was extremely dirty with many oil spills and dirt) was a rusty old car not worth remembering. Damon worked hard to keep it in shape just enough to bring it off the brink of death. The engine revved and with haste, he drove right through the closed garage door, knocking it off without a care.

Demon whispered, "Take this next exit. There's been a collision on the usual route, we can't take it."

Not believing that, Damon scoffed and turned the radio on to hear some news. Sure enough the report came on. A major wreck had just happened, which resulted in two deaths. Hearing that, he followed the directions and took an exit. Hey, something's funny about the report, the hyena thought. The car that's being described is a lot like...

"You forgot to buckle up."

"O shi-"

Before it was finished, Demon grabbed the wheel and swerved the car, the two hyenas getting into a big scuffle over who is in control. Not that it mattered, because soon enough they slammed right into a brick wall, completely crushing one innocent bystander into red paste while the driver crashed through the windshield.

A portal appeared in front of Spire only for a moment, a piece of folded up paper floated out and then the portal closed. He reached out for it and read it. It wasn't signed by anyone, so the jackal didn't know who it was from, or even if it really was from anyone. Hell is certainly a weird place, perhaps it's just some automatic notification that read his thoughts and informed him of something he'd consider important? Who knows, it doesn't matter.

'All have the ability to visit anywhere in their main level of Hell and all levels below. Oll has died. Sixth level.'

With gritted teeth and seething hatred, Spire opened a portal.

Things only got worse the lower you went in Hell. While nothing can compare to the very bottom, the Complete Asshole plane of existence was definitely something to fear. It was a place you did not want to be. Your nightmares became real, your sins took revenge on you and the souls of those you had hurt will laugh. The evil deeds one has done will be acted upon over, and over, until one understands that whatever had happened in the past is, well, not good to do.

Spire's portal dropped him off at Hell's reanimated version of Oll's expensive, fancy house. The bedroom, specifically. It was different, though. Everything was grayed out, color and life sapped away from all things. Plants were black and dead, the whole house looked rotten and even a few cockroaches and mice skittered around. A grin spread over his face, 'This is where you deserve to live.'

Loud crying eventually registered into the jackal's ear. He turned his head, only to see Oll curled up on a dirty, heavily blood-stained bed. The fox's face was covered up with his own arms, with some picture books laid out in front of him. Spire walked over closer, slowly as to not catch attention and took a peek.

Ah, yes. These were familiar faces. One of himself, a few 'friends' of Oll's that Spire knew of, plus some old ex-boyfriends. He didn't know the exact meaning of it all, but just seeing the situation was pleasing.

"I don't think you're supposed to be here, dood," a short penguin spoke, staring up at the 'house guest'. The creature was odd in many features, firstly that it was blue and white, rather than most penguin's coloration of black and white. In addition, it had purple wings on its back, along with a brown pouch around its' waist. Lastly, it had peg legs.

Through some mystic force, Oll could not hear any of the conversation between the two. "I don't know who you are, but I don't care.

"You're going to have to leave, dood. I was just about to give this guy his routine punishment, 'spose to help him recover inch by soulless inch until he's some kind of better person, dood!" the weird creature said with uncalled for optimism, waving his arms up high in the air happily.

"I DON'T CARE!" Spire yelled, grabbing the penguin thing and throwing it out a window. The glass shattered and an explosion was followed after.

"I hope you've been enjoying yourself," Spire growled, feeling his anger pulse through his body and into his brain with incredible speed. The rush of it felt like some inner self taking over. Someone else who wasn't Spire was taking over, telling Mr. Conscience to fuck off. That was how strong it was.

In fear that had grown to become instinct, Oll shot his head up and crawled back against the wall. The male's eyes were wide and bloodshot, telling easily that sleep was lacking, but tears were not.

The jackal took a few steps closer, clenching his fists. "You... You have NO idea how happy it makes me to see you down here crying like you miss your mommy."

Oll was entirely unsure if this was another weird illusion, daydream, or if he was talking to himself again and somehow seeing his own impersonation. Whatever the case, he decided to reply with a fragile, broken soul voice, "Are you h-here to hurt me again?"

"Hurt you?! Me, hurt you! HA!" The thought made Spire burst out laughing. It was inconceivable, considering what had been done to him, but then the thought crossed his mind. "Why, I'd love to, thank you for the offer."

He leaped on the bed, pinning down the confused fox. Spire growled so vicious and bestial, that drool started to dribble down his lips, leaking down onto the orange fur. Screams echoed through the room as, with no mercy, the black creature on top began to grind his growing sheath against the quite loose tailhole entrance before himself.

"No, stop! Please!"

"Do you even know why I'm doing this?! It's exactly the same thing you did, and you're saying exactly what I said!" he spat out. The erection was now hard enough to reasonably be used for sex. It was a bit hard to get up, considering it had to be done while staring at someone so hideous.

Confusion spread over Oll's face, "H-huh? What did I do?"

That really hit the button. "Wh... wh-?!" How could Oll not remember? The very thought was so angering that Spire felt unable to hold back a slap. "You RAPED me, you twat!"

"But... you liked it."

If Tom had not shown up at that second to grab Spire by his shoulder and throw him back, the jackal may have just done something that he would've regretted later.

The moment his back slammed on the floor, anger departed and Mr. Conscience had a welcome home party, included with party poppers and cake. Spire didn't make it to the party, though. Poor him.

"Spire..." the mouse spoke in a disappointed whisper. "Do you even realize what you were about to do?"

"I'm... sorry. I can't believe what I was doing, I was out of control." Spire said, staring down at his black-furred hands in disbelief. What was becoming of him? As fast as possible, he opened a portal, then left.

Although he had intended to go back to his own room, Spire was instead in some kind of office, lit only by a single candle on a desk, loads of paper and books stacked everywhere. Briefly, he wondered why Hell would even have so much paperwork, but the thought quickly flew off as it was realized that it really didn't matter much right now. What did, was where was this?

"Spire," Tom quietly said from behind a desk, which the candle was set up on top of. Talk about a fire hazard. "I summoned you here."

Fear shivered down the jackal's spine. It wasn't very often he was a fraid, but this was one of those times. He didn't like being in trouble. "Well, I could guess that much. But why?"

It took a moment for him to blink and think about what was going on. He felt sick for almost letting his anger get so wild.

"Not everyone has a chance to recover their lost humanity, but many people do," Tom began to explain softly, shaking his head and looking down. "It could take immeasurable years; so long that no language even has a word for it, but it's possible. Through making him live through his own sins and trying to teach him very basic concepts of empathy, kindness and love, Oll might be a decent person one day. I understand how you feel, but you can't do that. That's not what the level visits are for. Even if he did deserve what you were about to do, which he frankly did, doing it would've turned you into the same thing."

Slowly, Spire nodded. "I understand. I'm not so stubborn that I'd say it's impossible for him to recover. As much as I hate to admit it, Oll has a chance... but, just a small one." He huffed, crossing his arms and pouting rather cutely.

A soft smile crept on the mousie's face, "All I need to know is that you won't do that again. Something like that is actually bad enough that it could have gotten you kicked out of the Naughty level, if you don't understand why what you did was wrong, or if you'd do it anyways."

"I won't, I promise, cross my heart and hope to die!" he swore, making an X motion over his chest.

"Ah, yes, your heart." Tom rose up to his feet, then hugged his young friend tightly. "Have you decided on that yet?"

"I'm sorry, but I haven't. There hasn't been anything that I've found that'd make me so happy to the point I'd get over stuff." Feeling a bit awkward, the canine pushed his way out of the hug.

Quite out of nowhere, the grey mouse bursted out laughing. "Well well, my friend! It's time to take a trip to HAPPY TOWN!"

With a stomp of a foot, Tom opened a portal underneath Spire, which he immediately fell into.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" he screamed in surprise, falling down a seemingly endless black hole. After yelling for so long, he had to take a breath to continue screaming, but his shock eventually passed. "...This is a really big hole."

Spire felt himself fall on a hard surface, something jaggy and cold stabbing into his back. If it weren't for the mystical powers of Hell, it'd hurt instead of feeling so good that he just about orgasmed right there.

For a moment, everything was quiet and still. He took the peaceful moment to take a look around, seeing that he was in space, and on a planetoid. There was a star nearby, giving off a pretty glow and a warm feeling, while all the other nearby and distant stars and planets showed their twinkles. It all combined into some strange feeling of peace. Somehow, it felt right. Of course, it was totally unrealistic to what space actually would be like, but that didn't matter.

Two poofy ears and a fluffy face came into view, staring down excitedly. It was a raccoon, shorter and younger than Spire.

"Oh, wow! Someone else finally came down to say hello?!" the overly-joyous male practically screamed, then pounced down to hug Spire.

"Ack! Get off!" he barked and began struggling to get free, though failed. After awhile, he sighed and decided he may as well hug back.

After the hug broke between the two, the hyper raccoon got down on all fours, jumped to his left and then to his right a few times. He was trying to imply some kind of play time in the most animalistic way possible, but it only made Spire raise an eyebrow. Then, the raccoon leaped forward and pounced his prey.

Spire yipped in surprise as he fell down. "Hey! Jesus, you're crazy."

"Oh, no! I'm Dim!" the kid said happily, proceeding to lick his new-found friend until his face was soaked.

The jackal managed to push the other male off of him after struggling underneath the tongue for long enough, then wiped his face. "Dim? Well, I can see that."

"My NAME'S Dim, silly!" Dim huffed. "Some sort of cruel joke from my parents, I guess."

A moment of awkward silence passed, Spire just staring blankly at the boy. "...Right then. Well, uhm, what're you doing out here?"

"Oh, here! Well, to be honest, I love suffocating. It never has to be painful or bloody here in Hell, it's so much more peaceful!" The little coonfuzz sighed in pleasure at the thought.

Spire scratched his own head, thinking. "You like that? But why?"

A somewhat annoyed scoff emitted from little Dim, "What do you mean why? Because it makes my cock get hard! I need no other reason."

"Hey, hey! Don't get mad, I was just curious," the canine eased, raising his hands up in defense.

Seeing that no harm was meant, he just smiled. "Oh, well, hehe! Okay! Since I'm alone a lot, I usually just wish to not be able to breathe and then turn it on when I want to again, like a light switch. Not that it's even necessary, you know, since we're dead an' all! But it's kind of fun, floating around off the ground while choking. You want to try it out?"

'I'm already dead, plus, after three days...' Spire gave in, shrugging. "Oh, sure, what the hell."

"Alright! Here we go!" With no hesitation, Dim grabbed his newfound friend and threw him up into the air! With the lack of gravity (and the mysterious mystery science of Hell), the canine easily began floating aimlessly.

"He-gh!" he choked out, having tried to yell. 'Oh no, I can't breathe!' For a few short seconds, fear overrode all senses and Spire started to struggle, gripping at his throat.

It seemed Dim was following, floating up above Spire. "Hey, relax. Like I said, you can wish to breathe again if you want, but the fact that you're not right now means you must've passively wished for that in the first place! Hah! You want it!"

'So, Dim is ironically a smartass.' In any case, it was true. After calming down and relaxing, he actually started to find it... enjoyable, of all things! As if being choked, while rammed by someone, utter dominance. The animal's mind began to drift into fantasy, getting himself quite hard and deep in thought.

Dim noticed this, and grinned. Edging closer, he grabbed the other male's cock and stroked. Spire opened his eyes and looked down. The coonboy stopped for a moment, thinking he might've done wrong and wore an adorable puppy-dog face. A kind of face no one can say no to.

A sigh. "Oh, fine. You can touch it," Spire huffed out. Although he tried to act so much like the brooding dark character, it was just an act, so said the soft smile on his muzzle, then gasped in unexpected pleasure and quickly looked down. His length was now inside the coonboy's muzzle!

For convenience purposes only, a giant black hole formed near them, sucking the two right up. In a flash, the scenery had changed into a mall, hustling with the kind of business you'd think was only possible during holidays. A few glanced at them, but didn't really seem to care. Spire froze up, and blushed more than apple peels when he noticed Dim hadn't stopped.

"I've... never been more embarrassed in all my afterlife," he said quietly to himself, too shocked to even ask for it to stop.

A happy laugh echoed behind them. "Aw, how cute. You've already made a new friend, I hope he tastes as good as you."

"I want to die all over again."

Dim finally bothered to open his eyes, pulling the slick meat out of his mouth to smile and greet the zombie. "Hi! I don't know you!"

"Awesome, I don't know you, either! Hi!" Etal waved, then walked closer so that he was in Spire's eye view.

"You want to try?" Dim asked politely, pointing to the somewhat-shrinking cock in hand.

Finally having enough, Spire shook the younger creature off of himself, then wished on some clothing.

Etal whimpered in feigned disappointment, "But friend, you liked it so much when I ate it off of you before."

"Wow! He ate it off? Cool, I've never had that done! Here, do me, do me, do me!"

Noticing Spire had covered the front of his face with a palm in shame, the bat-eared creature shook his head, "Maybe later. It seems our companion here dislikes voyeurism."

"If I knew it wouldn't just feel good instead of killing me, I would be bashing my head in with a brick right about a few minutes ago," the jackal complained, sitting down at a table, since it seemed they were in a food area of the mall. Despite it, he said it with a slight smile, making it obvious that it was all just a part of his odd way of showing friendliness.

Next to the snack parlor, there was a movie theater. It seemed a film had just ended, since furries of all kinds walked out of the entrance. Etal wrapped his arms around his new friends' shoulders, walking towards the movies with them, even though Spire was against the idea.

"No, no! We're going, and I don't care what you say, Soreass," the foxy insisted, cheerfully walking towards the ticket booth.

A humble bear stood behind it, smiling down at the three. "Yes?"

Etal pointed to a particular horror-movie advertised on a poster. "Tickets for three!"

"Hm? That'n?" he asked as he obtained the tickets and slid them through a hole in the booth's glass. "Here ya' go, that's a scary'n."

"Awesome, I LIKE SCARY MOVIES!" Dim screamed out of the blue. After some odd looks and then laughs, they entered their destined theater room.

The room was dark, only lit by the large screen at the front of the room playing some previews. A couple things immediately seemed odd about the room to Spire. One was they were the only ones here. Two, the seats were actually not really seats as much as they were very large couches lined up in rows, which he automatically assumed was for 'playing around'. Three, there wasn't the standard kinds of messes you would find in most places like this, such as popcorn on the ground, spilt soda and the like. Instead, there was blood, cum, patches of fur and all kinds of unknown substances laying around.

Etal and Dim gleefully sat down on the perverted death-covered couches, leaning against each other. The jackal wasn't so enthusiastic about sitting down, mentally considering either standing up for the movie, or even leaving.

"Come on, siddown! Siddowndowndown!" The fluffy raccoon took a moment to get up and grab his black-furred friend and, after a bit of force, got him to sit down in between the others.

Spire kept trying to shrug them off of his shoulders, as they kept cuddling with him, but he soon just sighed loudly and sat back. Seeing he'd given up, Etal took the chance to lay down on his lap.

"I'm not sure if this is better or worse than the normal movie theaters back when I was alive," Spire said, dunking a finger into a mixture of semen and blood. Still warm.

"Better!" both Dim and Etal immediately said, followed by them yelling "Jinx!" at each other at the exact same time repeatedly, until the canine barked at them.

"Uh, sorry," the bat-eared male chuckled awkwardly. "But anyways, it's definitely way better. No crying babies, or really tall guy sitting right in front of you."

Dim nodded, then added more. "Plus, all the great actors and directors who die get to keep making movies down here that only we get to see."

Spire nodded, "Well, that's great and all, but I was kind of referring to all the cuddling and lovely ketchup."

"Hehe, oh! That's because you're about to die!" Dim announced with joy.

Before any other words were said, giant sawblades emerged from the ground and couch. The blood-dripping metal glistened in light, then quickly came down at the three, sawing them all. Other objects of random kinds also popped up, such as ice picks, knives, hot pokers, needles with paralyzing substances. To Spire's blissful amazement, absolutely none of it hurt one bit. His body froze up from the multiple injections, making it impossible to escape the savage attack on himself, or his friends, not that he would have done much even if the jackal could move. Orgasm after orgasm was reached, from the immense pleasures Hell had gifted them.

Ah, yes. He remembered now, just as a sword stabbed through his chest. No pain for the innocent, it's all converted to pleasure. Anyone can live their strangest fantasies and have no drawbacks. What a strange place this was.

Before any more pleasure could be gained, Spire's vision went black from the overwhelming sensations.

When consciousness took form once more, the green-eyed jackal found himself laying on his bed, back in his Hell-given room. Laying next to him was a note, signed by his two friends with a cartoony fox and raccoon head sticking their tongues out. 'You passed out at the best part, you dork! We had to drag you through a portal. Oh well, hope you had fun. See you later. P.S. Dim didn't write the letter, to specify. He kept insisting he write in some shit called Prinny Juice.'

A smile crossed over the male's muzzle. Was this, was this what it was like to finally have friends? That warm feeling coming over his chest, continuing to grow stronger and stronger. Even began to burn. Wait a minute, friendship wasn't supposed to burn.

"Ahhh!" Spire yelled out in pain, clutching his chest and dropping down on the floor to his knees. How long had he been here in Hell? It couldn't have been close to 100 hours, but then again, he had no idea how long he had been sleeping on the bed. Or, maybe Hell had some warped way of processing time.

In moments just as quickly as it had came, the pain was gone. 'What the hell?' The canine shook his head. Maybe it was time to finally put some thought into this whole heart thing.

Life had sucked, but it was over. Was there a point in staying like this, all depressed? He thought about the new friends he made, and even Tom was nice. The time Spire had spent in Hell had been some of the best he'd ever had in, well, ever! Could living an afterlife be all that bad? What if it could be like this all the time?

But, yet, does all of that matter much? The canine thought how he barely knew them. How can you be friends when you've only just met someone? What if they liked something he didn't? A very passionate disagreement of some kind? It's not like they were true friends. They didn't know each other. It wouldn't hurt them very much if he let himself die, he told himself.

Spire groaned in indecisiveness, resting his forehand in a palm out of frustration. 'But, if I die, then Oll can live an eternity of guilt. Even if he somehow becomes better and goes up levels in Hell, he'll never be satisfied.'

Then, there was a knock at the door.

Sigh. "Yes, come in. It's not locked." Spire rolled his eyes, 'And it's not like you couldn't just wish for a key, or something with the same outcome.'

The door creaked open, "It's me. Tom."

The grey mousie stepped in quietly and closed the door. Nothing was said for a few moments, until the rodent spoke up again. "I came here, because there's not much time left. I wanted to give you a last chance to decide if you want to stay."

"I think," Spire trailed off, getting lost in his thought. He turned his head over his shoulder, having been faced away the whole time while sitting on the bed. "I think I want you to leave."

Those words hurt like a burning knife stabbing through Tom's heart. He almost fell backwards, but kept on foot. "I-... I see."

Spire turned his head and looked down at the floor sadly. "Please, leave."

"No, Spire." Tom walked closer to the canine boy, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I won't stop you, but please. Let me show you something."

After the mouse opened a portal, the two stepped through...

Spire gasped at what he saw.

In an obscure location in Hell, in a dark cave. Water dripped from the ceiling and matted down an outstretched arm's fur. A hyena poked space and tore a hole in it, ripping open a portal to his desired destination.

Demon slapped his real self on the back, laughing and encouraged continuation. "Haha, yes! That's it, Damon! Now you're thinking with portals!"

The whole area was shockingly beautiful. The most serene, vast pure green valley one could ever imagine. Wind gently swayed the tall green grass, carrying along the sweet, luscious scent of morning dew. There was even a large lake in the center of everything, sparkling in sunlight. Birds soared in the sky, then swooped down to drink from the water, others rested on tree branches next to where Spire and Tom stood.

He stood there for the longest time, staring in utter amazement. "Wh-... what is all this? It doesn't seem anything like the rest of the Naughty level." Spire turned to Tom, "Why did you bring me here?"

Top opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.

"Your hatred will kill you," a low voice almost whispered. It caught their attention, and both turned around instantly to see a hyena standing before them.

"Hm? Oh, I'm glad that you made it in time, Damon." Tom calmly waved a hello.

Demon crossed his arms, scoffing. "Whatever, I guess we should thank him for giving us access here. Anyways, you know what we came here to do, Damon."

The unsanitary hyena scowled and looked over to his imaginary ally. "Yeah, yeah, shut up! I'm getting to it!" This earned a frightened look from Spire, but Tom seemed to know what was going on. Strangely, despite the powers of Hell changing people's bodies to whatever look they wanted, Damon was still completely dirty. The only explanation: he didn't give a damn.

As the strange, insane stranger approached Spire, the jackal backed up instinctively, but was held still by Tom. When he looked up as if to ask why, no answer, or even facial expression of any kind was given. He just stared blankly forward towards Damon.

With every step he approached, a part of Damon looked more, how to put it? As if the life and color was being drained away, and every second this happened, beautifully colored sparkles and butterflies rose from around where he stood, floating up into the endless blue sky. He looked up for a moment, happy to see those puffy, funny-shaped white clouds for a last time. One looked like those damn sea weasels.

"Wh-what's happening to you?!" Spire asked with concern, not sure at all what it meant, why he needed to be shown this, or how it'd at all affect him.

Finally looking away from the radiant sky, the hyena smiled a gloomy smile. It was something he didn't do very often and, now that the thought is in mind, Damon couldn't even remember the last time he did it. "I'm here to show you what you're really losing to your stupid hate, your unforgiving soul. Why you need to move on."

What did any of that even mean?! Spire shook his head angrily and yelled back, "Start making sense, or stop invading my privacy! I wanted to be alone, damn it!"

"That's your problem, wanting to be alone all the time," Damon said, now having trouble keeping his eyes all the way open. His body was completely decayed from the waist down, the assorted colors of random orbs of light and butterflies in an equal number of variety in appearance emerging from him. Eventually, the fatigue grew too great and he fell to his knees.

Before Damon fell on his face, Spire quickly got down and caught the insane person, who only appeared maybe a few years older. He laid the other male down on his lap, so that they stared at each other.

Tears filled the jackal's eyes. He didn't know why he was crying. Why, damn it?! Spire didn't know this guy and plus, he seemed really creepy! So, why? Whatever was happening, it was bad, wrong.

The pain in Damon's chest pulsed more intensely with every heart beat, making him wince and groan loudly in pain. That, mixed with Demon standing there next to him, telling him to hurry up before both of their times run out, really ticked him off.

"Shut... up..." Damon mumbled out at his mentally-twisted duplicate, not loud enough for anyone to hear other than the intended person. Slowly, his eyes closed. Demon stood next to him, crossed his arms and sighed, finally closing his eyes in sync.

As the physical body in Spire's very arms disappeared, flowers began to sprout out of nowhere all around the grassy green field. All he could do once it was over was stare at his own hands in shock before he began to punch the ground repeatedly.

"No! No! NO!" It went on like that for awhile, until the canine's own chest pulsed in severe pain. He grabbed his chest and tried to gasp for air, but couldn't do so for several seconds. Even a retard would understand what was happening, Spire now figuring out what had happened and why he had been shown death.

"He let his own soul disappear, just to have a chance to show you what you'd really be giving up and what would happen to you," Tom stated, sitting down next to his friend, who only had a mere single minute of life left. "Seconds are ticking away, and that's all you have left."

Flashes ran through the boy's mind. Every moment of life. From early childhood, to death. From the attempted vengeance, to friends, to here. All the tears he used to cry and all the laughs he had while Spire had been here. Friends... why was that such a foreign word?

"Fine, damn it. Everyone else wins. Fine," the jackal sighed in defeat. Though, he did it with a small smile. "That guy just died before my eyes, just so I could have a chance. How could I possibly disrespect that by doing the same? There's still so much I want to do with Etal and Dim. Even if none of this is real, even if this is a hallucination or a dream, at least... I can choose for it to be a happy one."

Tom's face practically oozed with hope. "Does that mean you choose to live?"

"Y-yeah, I guess so... Just hurry it up!"

Before he knew it, the grey mouse had instantly jammed his hand right through Spire's chest. Just like everything else in Hell, it didn't hurt. It felt great, great to have his chest pierced through. Great to both feel and see his own heart being ripped out, but even best to see Tom swallow his heart right before his very eyes. Kind of kinky.

For many moments, the two just stared at each other with smiles. Wind blew past them, making Spire's hair wave around his eyes.

After many thank you's, hugs and tears, Tom had taken his leave. This whole area was now Spire's new home. It was isolated, but beautiful. Quiet and peaceful, but not lonely. It would never be night, unless he wanted it to be. There would never be any kind of change of weather, unless he wanted some.

Spire had always wanted to learn to play an instrument in his life. With the mystical powers of Hell, it was possible. If he had really wanted, it was only a wish away to practically have something play by itself by the jackal's mere touch. But no, he wanted to do it the old fashion way. You know, learning.

A small chair sat in front of a large piano, set up right next to the lake in the middle of the area. It was night, moonlight sparkling down on all of the droplets of water from the light rain shower. He took a seat, then placed his palms down on the keys.

This was starting to look like the beautiful beginning of eternity.

---

And random notes to Alex, in case he reads this and for whoever is interested: I've actually not read Down in the Dumps thoroughly, but I should when I get the time. :( Tom is all I wanted to name the Hellguardian, because it's sort of my own reference and jab to Raz in your own stories. Razzies' full name is hilariously long, yet when you meet this guy, it's just "Tom". Though, humor aside, Tom probably isn't a very sensible name for a demon living in Hell who is older than time itself, so it's realistically only an alias Tom uses to simplify himself. Emo music for the win. You said you had the idea that upper-level people could go down to lower levels to beat up the assholes who murdered/raped/etc. them, if supervised. I'm sorry if any of the events in my story conflict with some of your ideas/storyline, like if Spire wouldn't even have the ability to do some of the things he did, it was only for the sake of the story. Plus, going down to the lower level for revenge was giving in to his own hatred and destroying himself, which is the main reason why it was extremely bad. No you're not the only person who hasn't played it. I haven't, either. =D Lastly, no, I haven't played American McGee's Alice. I'll keep it in mind for later, though. And I'm not just saying that!

Points goes to anyone who can name all the movie and video game references I made!