FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The room was dim except for the glow of a computer monitor and the on light of the coffee pot. It smelled of old tobacco smoke and recycled air gone stale.

Dragunov wrung his paws together and read the words again, pondering where to begin his search.

The serial rapist has no known preference to victim. They appear to be of either gender, come from all walks of life, and have no connections to each other.

Victims' age ranges from prepubescent (name and exact age unknown for protection of the victims) to late middle aged. The majority of the victims being younger men.

The only common trait amongst them is location in the civilian deck one hundred and seventeen.

The time frame for the attacks has been one victim every third day for the last five weeks. That is eleven total rapes in just over a month.

The authorities have tried to keep the incident quiet but enough word has spread that it won't be silenced further.

The attacks almost exclusively take place in darkness. Descriptions of the attacker vary greatly, with most crying wolf.

Authorities think he uses hallucinogenic drugs to disorient his victims, as they claim to be attacked by the darkness itself. The only constant factor is that the attacker is male, and that all

victims report two glowing eyes.

No semen is found on the scene though all victims report being ejaculated in or upon.

Drag had read the words a few times, and cursed.

"I wonder if they give me these assignments because I got the names of those clubs confused and showed up in my S&M gear to the Freedom Day office party." He said aloud and to no one in particular.

He had done this during his first year working on The Reynard. The names sounded similar, and he knew nothing of vulpine holidays.

So now he figured these sicko cases were because they thought he liked this sort of thing. It couldn't be further from the truth.

Then again the other three staff writers were female, and it hardly seemed appropriate material for them. Drag's special form of chivalry wasn't thought highly of by his coworkers, but it did keep them out of harms way now and again.

He didn't like most foxes, arrogant scum for the most part, but the people he worked with were good folks. They treated him equally and kept to the letter of the law to make him feel wanted.

The white rat figured they needed some off ship talent as a marketing scheme, but really, he saw the affection in their eyes every day,

Even Alexa went home with him that one time. Nice girl, and far too good in bed for that layabout husband of hers.

Dragunov sighed and contemplated revisiting that night but thought a smoke would do him better.

He pulled out the shark hide pouch he kept his tobacco in and scooped some into the bowl of his well loved pipe.

The wood gave it an aftertaste that most pipes didn't have, and this blend of tobacco was grown on ship but wasn't too terrible.

He coughed a few times after inhaling.

"Always bloody cough on you, eh girl?" The odd rat said to his pipe.

Taking a few minutes to fill his office with smoke before transferring the info to his pocket slate, Dragunov powered off his computer, locked up, and went out onto the street three floors below him.

The street was wet, but he wasn't sure if it ever rained in the ship. He'd never seen it if it did.

He had about a thirty minute walk home, and the lights were just starting to get bright, signalling morning time.

He'd worked through the night again, and he felt it.

A few of the gangly foxes that unloaded the beer at the corner store waved at him.

"Good kids", the rat internalized when one of them grabbed his coat and tugged.

"Hey mister, you look like shit. You alright?"

The long limbed rodent laughed a little.

"I'm fine, just worked all night. Thanks for pointing out my appearance though, gotta look my best for all those cute young vixens I'm stealing from guys like you."

The kid smiled and punched the rat in jest.

"You're a real funny fucker old man. Here take this, my boss says anything I'll mention a rat problem."

He handed Drag one of the expensive beers imported from a world so far away he'd never heard of it.

"Thanks kit, you ever need dirt on anyone, let me know."

It was a hollow promise. No one ever hired him for a good blackmail job anymore.

He'd given up detective work for a safer and more lucrative profession as a journalist.

Walking home he finished the beer and had a good enough buzz to forget the rest of the trek.

His flat was small but comfortable, and he rode the lift up to the sixteenth floor and stumbled to the end of the hall. He never locked his door, the neighbour was a soldier and a mean son of a bitch to anyone he didn't recognize.

Drag saw him check who was in the hall as he went past, giving a little wave.

He opened his door and tossed his coat on the floor, missing the coat rack entirely.

"Bollocks...You can just stay there then you ungrateful cur."

The nearly albino rodent sat down in his chair to take off his boots and promptly fell asleep.

Dragunov woke with a start. What had he been dreaming about? Birds, bells, his phone ringing?

His phone was ringing. The rat grabbed it off of the table next to him and answered with a bleary, "Ello?"

It was bright in his living room, and his front door was wide open. The voice on the other side of the line was yelling at him with a mixture of anger and concern.

It took a whole minute for him to figure out that the voice was that of Mr. Drexler, his boss at the Trinity Herald.

"... the big jumping fuck have you been? Its almost lunch and you were supposed to be on assignment looking into this sick fucker in one seventeen. Are you even listening to me?"

Dragunov swallowed hard and muttered, "Yeah. I'll get right on it."

Not sure what on it was, he just figured he'd hit the pavement in one seventeen and make something up until he had real facts.

"Brevich? You are the only one I can trust this to, don't make me lose readers by firing your white ass."

His boss hung up. The fat little fox was a monster and a slave driver when he was angry or hungover, he sounded like he was both today. Despite his lack of civility and charm, the guy was one of the most thoughtful bosses the rat had worked for. He even smuggled the gun that Drag was legally forbidden from carrying to him from a coyote he met in a bar.

The rat had gotten roughed up by a few bigger foxes one night and had to be in the hospital for a week to recover, his get well soon present was a big bore hand cannon. It was wolf make, which would scare most vulpines to pissing themselves. Even better was the fact that when he test fired it, he flipped one of those foxes transports on its roof with the force of the round.

It was a good gun, and Dragunov liked his guns.

His father named him after one, and it was fitting.

He crossed the room and picked up his coat from the floor carrying it into the bedroom where he kept his meagre possessions.

He stripped out of his clothes in plain view of Mrs. Gilda who was just nosey enough to look through the open door and see him standing in the bedroom.

She didn't look away, giving Drag reason to suspect she wanted more than conversation when she brought him dinner.

He grabbed a new set of clothes from his dresser and walked into shower without so much as a word to the woman.

He liked her cooking, and didn't want to miss any of it by embarrassing either of them.

He forgot he was still wearing socks about the time he said the words "Water on."

Peeling the damp cloth from his paws made him nearly fall over, and the water was far too cold.

"Ah shit! Heat, heat!" He half shouted as he steadied himself by the handrail.

Steam filled the tube shaped shower that he had been assured all foxes used when they bathed by the salesman.

He scrubbed and lathered himself haphazardly, trying to hurry so he could get to one seventeen and a diner before he did any real work.

"Water off, heated dry."

The water ceased flowing and the wall mounted nozzle retracted as the large piston like heaters raised into the interior of the tube from their sockets in the floor.

They glowed orange and heat blasted forth while the fans inside blew the increasingly warmer air over his coat.

Dragunov tucked his tail back to avoid another unpleasant burn.

The arms began to spin at a rather rapidly increasing pace and blasting him with almost blistering heat until a small alarm chimed and they lowered into their original sockets and the tube door slid open.

He didn't like using the blow dryer. It made his fur overly fluffy and his clothes felt weird until he'd worn them half a day. But he didn't have time to drip dry and he knew it.

He put on his clothes and used a laser trimmer on his chin hair to even it out before stepping into the hall and noticing his front door was closed and an apple was sitting on the table next to his chair.

He walked over and picked it up, delighting at the free breakfast.

There was a note written on folded legal paper underneath his treat, and he chuckled when he read it.

"Dear Mr. Brevich, Thank you for showing kindness (and other things) to this old lady."

Drag put on his socks and boots in his chair, finished his apple, and hailed a transport car with his phone before heading out and to the lift.

The day was already half gone but by eating at home he saved time and money at the diner and could get right to work.

He reached for his tobacco pouch while he waited for the transport, but felt a bit irritated when he remembered the sizable fine he incurred last time he smoked on a transport.

"Bloody red furs and their orders." He muttered bitterly.

Dragunov was working in the heart of their home, but being here had only reinforced the age old stereotypes he'd learned from his father. Foxes were arrogant or whores, most were both. The words carried a voice half remembered to his mind before he quashed the whole idea and mindset.

They had lots of rules and laws that he had to follow but foxes didn't, but at least he wasn't back home, making not enough money and more than enough enemies.

He'd come here on a trade ship and stole aboard before getting the proper papers to live here. The journalism degree he forged had gotten him his job, and when he revealed his deception to his boss, it magically became a legitimate one with a correspondence course he had never taken.

The transport pod showed up with a hiss, and his concentration was lost.

The door opened, and the driver of the older model pod barked out, "Where to?"

Drag climbed in the back and pulled the harness over his chest before speaking.

"Deck one seventeen."

The cabbie looked at him in the mirror.

"Why you want to go there for? You've heard the rumours right?"

Dragunov hit the switch to close the hatch.

"That's why I'm going mate. Gonna find the bastard."

The grey muzzled fox adjusted his glasses and put the pod in flight.

"Well if you do, make sure you kill him yeah? Guy is ruining my business."

Cabbies always seemed to be like this thought Drag. Self centred and jaded.

The radio was blaring some sort of bass heavy drech that younger foxes listened too. The rat guessed the cabbie was catering to them, or trying to appear younger. Drag really didn't care.

"Mind if I smoke this?" He said, holding up his pipe for emphasis.

The grizzled and grease stained fox grinned ear to ear.

"Only if I can smoke this!"

He raised a large smouldering cigar and stuck it in his teeth.

By the time the transport arrived on the lowest part of deck one seventeen, smoke was boiling out of the opened windows and both occupants were pleasantly red eyed. The cabbie wasn't smoking any kind of tobacco that he'd ever had, but the rat made sure to get the name of the shop where he could purchase some for himself.

The streets were always dark at the bottom of a deck, and the lights reflected off of the condensation that covered everything. The first five stories of most buildings looked like they were glowing.

The gangly rat walked a few blocks and only saw one rather haggard looking vixen on the street, and she bolted when he inadvertently scuffed a stone with his shoe.

The whole place looked abandoned, and it was eerie to see all the spots where street vendors and junk peddlers set up shop vacant.

"Well doesn't this just piss in the wind?"

He had to walk another few blocks before he saw any kind of life.

The flashing neon flickered off the top of a noodle hut that had a few people huddled around it, and none of them paid the rat any mind when he approached.

The Fox behind the counter looked like he bleached his fur white, and had an odd paper hat on his head.

Dragunov figured he'd better order something before starting with his questions, so he put on his best confused expression.

"I'll uh, take whatever..." he trailed off intentionally as he looked around for something he thought he could stomach, settling on some sort of meat on a stick. "That, whatever he is eating. I want that. And a cup of tea."

The man at the counter laid his ears back and sniffed before yelling at the kit working in his kitchen, probably his son.

"Okay then. One order of dog balls and a cup of piss!"

The rat almost laughed, but tried to play indignant.

"Hey now I'm as curious as the next guy but I don't want any of that!"

The bleached white fox took of his hat and tilted his head.

"Don't give me that shit! You aren't that stupid! Now tell me what you want."

Drag was made, better just get to work.

"Alright fine, you got me. So I'm here hunting the serial rapist."

Everyone was paying attention now, no cliche dropping of a bowl or cup happened, just everyone's conversations trailed off for a second and then continued quieter.

The boy was frying the meat covered sticks with tongs and some goggles, and the older fox poured him a cup of tea. He must be an old hand, because the freshly boiled water that he sloshed on his paw seemed to go unnoticed.

"Why do you have to do that? The police can't catch that ghost, what makes you think a rat can?"

Drag sipped at the slightly bitter liquid.

"You burned the leaves. And I am just looking for information really. I work for a news agency."

The little fox took the cup from Drag's paws and smashed it on the street and yelled something in a vulpine dialect he couldn't understand at his son before dumping his tea kettle and making a fresh batch.

"Damn kits never do anything right unless you watch them, you know?"

Drag shook his head.

"Not really. Could you point me somewhere to start asking questions?"

A new mug was thrust at him when the apparent owner of the stand got irritated with him.

"You've already started asking questions ass wipe! And you've come straight here, so you must know something already. Last girl who got attacked was just down that alley."

He pointed a long claw down the street to an opening between two buildings. The red crime scene tape was torn down and wrapped around a nearby street sign.

"But you won't find shit there. Urchins already picked clean what the police missed. You'll need to find the girl. It's been a few days, so she might be at work."

Dragunov took the plate of meat and chewed one of the crispy bits.

"And how much do I have to pay to find this place?"

He didn't care if everyone here heard him, in fact the more people that knew he was looking the more chances he had of someone speaking within ear shot.

The white fox gargled with a little bit of tea and spit into the sink before he gave the rat a once over.

"You look broke, so maybe you can't afford the information? But you look stupid enough to actually find the ghost, so I guess there is nothing to lose by selling you what you want. Five hundred and the meal is on the house."

Dragunov balked at the amount but he knew he'd be able to write it off as expenses. He hit the start button on his pocket recorder.

"So five hundred it is, now where is she?"

He set the recorder down and fished out his wallet. They still used paper money in the poorer sections of The Reynard.

"Fine fine, she works about six blocks that way, look for the sign that says exotic species dancers and knock on the green door. Her stage name is Calysto. After what happened, she's probably working the booths."

Dragunov tucked the money into his tip jar, finished his tea with a painful gulp and headed in the indicated direction with the rest of his lunch.

He thought that the fox could be lying to him, but figured that moving his noodle hut would be too much trouble, the rat decided to trust him.

He stopped the recorder for a few blocks and looked around for the place.

He passed it three times before he saw the sign painted on an alley wall, with an arrow pointing to a dimly lit basement entrance.

"A green door, he could have fucking mentioned the basement part."

Drag nearly slipped down the wet steps and caught himself with the handrail.

The green door was lit by only one nearly burned out bulb. It was large and metal, the kind with a sliding window for identifying who was outside, and another down low for firing a gun through.

Drag now thought he should have brought his own gun, seeing as how everyone thought the neighbourhood was so rough.

He knocked a few times and the window slid open. There was a brutish looking face looking back at him.

"Yeah? What do you want?" Came forth a voice like gravel and glass.

Dragunov knew how to get in, he'd dealt with these kind of situations enough times in the past to know the procedure.

"I want to come in, I got a date with one of your girls. The scanner says I'm clean, check it."

Most guys coming through the doors had no idea about the concealed weapons scanner under the small cement patio.

"Alright, but there's gonna be a pat down for blades."

The grope fest that endured was mildly irritating but utterly painless.

"What's with the recorder? These aren't allowed inside."

The rat hung is coat up in a rented locker and fished out another hundred and turned back to the door man.

"Here, I don't expect much for that, but you should hear me out if you're looking for more."

The stout fox scooped up the wadded bill and shrugged.

"Go on rat. I'm listening."

Drag pulled out his company ID and handed it to him.

"I know one of your girls was his last victim, and I am trying to get to the bottom of all this shit. So I thought I'd go ask her a few questions. That's why I have the recorder."

The fox looked grim.

"Well you got brains enough to find that out. Gimme another hundred and I'll tell you which booth she's in."

Drag handed him the last of his rent money for the week.

The big fox gave him his recorder back and grabbed him by the wrist.

"Listen buddy, we take care of our girls and the only reason she's working is because she wouldn't take no for an answer. You upset her or try and hurt her and I'll kill you. We understand each other?"

Drag felt his grip turn vice like and grind the bones in his wrist. He sucked in air between his teeth from the pain and spit out, "Yeah, I got you. Which booth?"

The doorman looked him over once again before he shook his head.

"Fuck me for living. She's in booth nine, first hallway on the right, at the very end. Make sure you pay her right, she's got a kit."

As he walked into the main room he muttered to himself, "They always do mate."

The music was loud and the lights in here were flickering and pulsating enough to make anyone epileptic. Drag's headache was instant.

There were a few girls pole dancing at the end of a three pronged stage for a few late night into early morning stragglers.

The rodent never understood why places like this were open all day. There were slow times, and it seemed too cost ineffective to have them running. He guessed fox stereotypes may have a grain of truth in them sometimes.

Turning right and walking to the end of the hall, Drag saw the occupied light on above the booth door.

He leaned against the wall and waited for about five minutes, getting stares from all the greasy foxes coming and going.

The door opened with a light creak that was almost impossible to hear over the music. The old fox that stumbled drunkenly out, glared at Dragunov like he'd done something.

The look of hurt in his eyes made Drag think he was just bitter that he couldn't have the girl all to himself.

The tall rodent slipped into the booth and immediately smelled why the old man had left in a hurry.

"Fucking. Lovely." He spat from between gritted teeth.

The air heavy with spilled seed, Dragunov was no longer in any mood to wait.

He slid some of his grocery money into the slot and hit the call button.

The window slid up and Drag was now face to face with Calysto.

"Take a seat honey." She cooed at him through the speaker system.

A quick glance at the chair told him he'd rather not.

"Sorry love, not a fan of sitting in old fox spunk. You're Calysto right?"

Her practised routine tripped up a bit.

"Yeah, I am sugar. Why, have you heard of me?"

Dragunov held up a roll of bills to the glass, everything he had on him.

"In a manner of speaking, yes I have. I have questions, and I'm sure you can guess the subject. Just talk to me and these are yours."

She looked frightened and upset.

"Alright you prick, what do you want to know?"

Drag fed a few bills through the slot and hit record.

"Tell me what you told the police, and what they said you didn't see."

She took the money from the slot and stuck it in a lock box.

Sitting down on a sturdy chair that she used for her shows, she did up her top.

Drag was almost sad to see her do this but the recent events made him remember his manners and dispel his ungentlemanly thoughts.

For a fox she was very attractive, he thought. Then the rat slid a few more bills in, hoping she'd talk.

"I told them I was raped. You know this or you wouldn't be here. I didn't get a good look at him since it was so fucking dark. I was just coming off a shift and was walking to my apartment when the only light in the alley went out."

She looked at the shrinking roll of bills in the rat's paws, and Drag got the hint.

He put a few more in and watched her kinda space out while she talked.

"Okay, the light went out and I heard this voice, it was like music and bugs having sex. It made my heart stop, and it asked me something."

Drag dropped another twenty through to her.

"It asked me if I loved the dark. I tried to run but couldn't see and fell. Someone grabbed me by the throat and held me down. It said 'I asked you a question bitch, do you love the dark?' "

She was crying softly now and Drag put his paw to the glass.

"Its okay Calysto, you can stop."

She shook her head and continued.

"His eyes glowed, and his breath smelled like flowers. I couldn't look away, so I answered him."

The rat dropped the whole roll in the slot and asked her, "What was your answer?"

She took the money in her paws and said, "I told him no. And he said 'well the dark loves you bitch." And I remember him throwing me into something and I couldn't stand up, and he ... you know what he did. He scratched me up pretty bad."

She took a drink out of a water bottle she had under the chair.

"He claws up my chest the worst, he just kept giggling like a fucking kit while he did it."

Drag felt sick to is stomach listening to this, but she just kept going. It was like she couldn't stop herself from talking.

"He only lasted a few minutes, and he pulled out and came on my face. Thank god he didn't knock me up. But after he came, he rubbed it on my face, my neck, and my chest. I thought he was just trying to make me feel worse, but the strangest thing happened. The scratches stopped hurting."

Her water bottle was empty and she threw it across the room.

"He got right in my face and said 'All better. Now no one will believe you.' And the worst part is, he was right. Not a single motherfucking person I have spoken to believes me. The just think I'm crazy when I say he flew away and the light came back on. But it fucking happened okay!"

Dragunov felt like shit now and he couldn't take it anymore. He had to leave.

"Alright, alright I believe you. That shit is to precise to make up. You take the money and I'll get the fuck out of here and you'll never see me again. Okay?"

She just looked at him and cried bitter angry tears.

"You're lying, you don't believe me. Just go."

She was too good, Drag didn't believe her. Who would?

He walked out and down the hall and through the main room to the lockers. The door man was waiting for him.

"You're leaving awful quick? You upset her?"

Drag spoke before he thought.

"Yeah, the fuck did you expect?"

The fox's response was as efficient as it was fast. Dragunov was unconscious before he knew what happened.

The battered rat woke up in an alley. His head spun but he didn't know why, and the smell of piss was strong. Drag wasn't sure if it was him or just a previous occupant, but it made him disgusted.

He stood up to leave after a moment and used a nearby dumpster for leverage. That was when his paw got tangled in plastic.

He shook it and tried to detach the persistent bit of refuse without having to touch it further, but it was of no use. He grabbed it with his other paw and began to unwind it from himself when he noticed words on the red tendril.

Turning them over in the dim light, he read the partial text, "..ime scen..." and this was when it dawned on him exactly where he was.

"That prick." was all that he had time to say before he heard it. A soft giggling noise like that of a deranged child.

It made the hair on his arms and neck stand up.

"Poor little rat bastard alone in my alley. Whatever did you do for the little foxes to offer you to me?"

Dragunov felt for his shoulder holster and came up empty. This failing, he went for his lighter.

He managed to spark it once before something hit him and sent him flying.

"The dark doesn't like when little boys play with fire. I have a question for you rat boy, do you love the dark?"

The rodent's blood froze in his veins and he saw two softly radiant eyes approaching him from a completely black portion of the alley. All the red glow from the signs and lamps of the street was dimming, and Dragunov could smell his mother's herb garden.

He knew what the question was a prelude to, and didn't know how to spare himself its coming.

"I've always been more a fan of dusk mate." He said before pulling out his tactical flashlight and shining it directly into those eyes on its highest strobe setting.

The creature Dragunov saw before he fled was unlike anything he had ever encountered before.

It looked similar to a fox, but the eyes were enlarged and highly reflective. It had black fur with a bizarre silver pattern to it, and its teeth all resembled canines in the front of its mouth.

Dragunov ran as quickly as he could from the alley towards the street beyond.

He glanced back and saw the shadow of the fox thing flickering on the wall from his flashlight for a moment before it apparently jumped straight upward, a cloud of shadows seeming to form and rise at an incredible rate as it did so.

He bumped into several people as he passed through the street, at last coming back to the noodle stand and the bone coloured fox that resided there.

The shop owner set a cup of tea in front of Drag without being asked.

"So ass wipe, did you find what you were looking for?"

He laughed loudly and hit the call button for a transport.

"Drink your tea then get out of here. You're bad luck."

Drag sipped at the hot liquid and used a napkin to wrap his bleeding paw.

Thinking he must have cut it on a bottle or something Drag took a small bit of solace in the fact that it wasn't his shooting paw.

He'd have to get his gun, and never make the mistake of leaving it behind again.

The transport pulled up and the journalist finished his tea quickly before hurrying over to the door.

It was the same cabbie from earlier, and he looked more worn than Drag remembered.

"You going home there master detective?"

Drag got in and started packing his pipe, not bothering with the harness and using his elbow to close the hatch.

"Yeah, though you're gonna have to spot me the ride."

The transport promptly set back down.

"There ain't no free rides buddy, you're gonna have to do better than that or walk."

Dragunov hated to do it but he had no choice.

"You got an outside line in this thing? I'm going to have to give you a credit."

A window opened on the advertising screen and a touch pad popped up.

"It gets added to your fare, so make it quick."

Drag didn't feel any malice in his voice, just fatigue.

The rat punched in his boss's home number after realizing the time. He was gonna catch hell.

There was the blank avatar on the video portion of the monitor but the audio kicked in after about seven rings.

"Who the fuck is this? Dragunov?"

Drag lit his pipe with his emergency matches and took a long pull before he spoke.

"Hey boss, I need the credit line authorized so I can get out of one seventeen. I got you a story, but it cost us a pretty penny and I'm stuck until I can pay this fox to drive me back."

His boss cursed and there was a shuffling of desk drawers before the sending icon popped up.

"This better be worth it rat, or it comes out of your pay, got it?"

Drag was too sore and frightened to bother arguing or making a smart ass comment.

"Sure thing. Thanks."

Dragunov stored the code in a disposable card he carried, and smiled at the cabbie.

"Take me to get one of those cigars and a bottle before you drop me home."

The grey old fox looked at the credit light on his dash fare meter.

"You're the boss, boss." He said trying to mimic Drag's voice.

Dragunov woke up itchy. He'd blacked out from drinking again, but that didn't explain why his fur was crawling.

There was something in his paw, warm from being there a while but also firm.

Afraid to open his eyes and let in the terrible light, he used it to scratch at himself.

As he scratched, the rat gained enough focus to comprehend what it was in his palm.

He opened his eyes to blinding light, and through the blur of dehydration and still being partially drunk, he saw his gun barrel resting against his crotch, and his claw on the trigger.

Dragunov blinked a few times to try and get his eyes to stop hurting so damn much and then chuckled.

"Stick em up."

His penis wasn't laughing.

"Everyone's a critic."

He set the gun on his table next to the recliner and looked for his pants.

After taking them off of his old style television set, he put them on.

A dull ringing noise had been going on the entire time he was awake, and it was pissing him off.

"The bloody hell is that phone...bollocks, late for work again."

He tracked the ringing to the kitchen but was having trouble finding it. The ring was muffled and there was no telling where it had gotten too.

Dragunov hit the boil setting on his faucet and grabbed an instant coffee cup.

The hiss from the sink told him the water was hot enough, and he put the polystyrene container in the basin and pushed the eight ounce button.

He opened the refrigerator for his cream and found where the telephone had gotten to, sitting on the second shelf, between a loaf of bread and an empty wine bottle.

He answered it with a bit of regret at his state and tardiness.

"Hullo?"

It wasn't his boss, thankfully. Alexa was irritated, he heard it in her voice.

"Drag, you are three hours late again. What the hell is going on?"

He sipped the now cream laced coffee that tasted suspiciously like dirt and water.

"Sorry love, I ran into the rapist."

She gasped audibly over the phone and her annoyance was gone.

"Are you alright? Did the police catch him?"

Drag woke himself up with a painful gulp of hot liquid.

"I'm fine, but he got away. Lost that flashlight you bought me in the process. Sorry."

She said something to someone Drag could safely assume was his boss.

"Okay Drag, he says to get in here with what you've got for him. Try not to take too long. He's in a shitty mood."

Drag figured he had time for breakfast anyway.

"Sure thing. See you soon."

The rat pulled an opened package of bacon out of his fridge and tossed it in the autocooker.

After a few dial adjustments and a button press, he was out of the kitchen and looking for a set of clean clothes. The task was a formidable one, since he hadn't done laundry in weeks.

He heard the alarm from his cooker before he found a shirt and tie that matched enough and he was wearing a pair of socks that he usually wore to parties.

He went back to the kitchen and threw the bacon between some bread with a dash of some sort of unidentifiable sauce foxes ate on everything, and forced himself to eat it before he made another dirt water and cream for the trip to work.

He slipped on his more sturdy combat boots, as his loafers were still drying out from his last excursion.

Slinging on his shoulder holster and sticking the massive sidearm in it, he grabbed his stained and battered brown overcoat, buttoning it up far enough that there was little chance of discovery.

He hit the transport call number on his phone and then set off.

He waved at Alexa as he went in. She was wearing her white blouse with the two conspicuously small pockets on the breast and a black skirt today.

"He's in his office."

Dragunov dropped a folded paper flower in her inbox as he walked by.

Drexler's office was at the end of a narrow hallway, just past his own.

The rodent walked towards the office with his head less agonized than before.

He expected yelling.

The squeaking spot on the floor gave him away, and the squat fox whipped his office door open.

"Dragunov, get in here and show me what you got."

Not quite the reaction he was expecting but still better than he could have hoped for.

Dragunov walked in and handed his boss the recorder.

"This is the interview with his last victim, me getting my ass kicked too."

The fox looked at him and then pulled out a cigar for the both of them.

"Here, I am not even going to bother looking at the charges on the company account right now. I'll let this talk for you."

They both sat in silence and listened to the entire recording.

Dragunov was uncomfortable as a man could be reliving it, but he was stern enough to shrug it off. Besides, he had his gun now.

Mr. Drexler took the card out of the recorder and fished a fresh one out of his desk, jamming it in the slot.

"You did good rodent. Not many guys would have gone there and done that. You've earned a bonus with this. I want you to keep on this bastard though."

Dragunov sighed.

"Yeah I know. You heard his voice, what can do that to a man's vocal cords?"

Draxler shrugged.

"I don't rightly give a shit. I am more interested in getting this to the cops so we don't end up in prison alongside this sick bastard. I'll make a copy and deal with my guy at the forty seventh and you go try and find out if anyone else has seen this guy. Don't forget your gun this time either you moron."

Drag felt that last part.

"Fuck you too boss. I'll go hit the computer and correlate the attacks so I know where to look. They release any new info?"

The fox mashed the stub of his cigar into a marble ashtray.

"Yeah, it isn't much though."

Dragunov let himself out and went to his own office, where Alexa was waiting at the door.

"You heard huh?" He said, wishing she'd not eavesdropped. He didn't want to look weak in front of her.

She looked up at him from her smaller frame, she looked like a child to him.

"Yeah Drag, I did. Don't worry though, I don't think any less of you. Guy is some sort of monster right? That isn't why I am waiting for you though."

Dragunov was confused by the turn of events.

"Oh? Why is that then?"

She smiled coyly and held up her left paw.

"No ring, the bastard finally left me. Said something about a younger bitch, I don't know and couldn't care less. His money was nice but the lazy bastard was disgusting."

Drag smiled at her warmly. The feeling of it was alien to him after the events of the last few days.

"Good for you love."

As he went to open the door, she grabbed his belt.

"I wasn't finished with you yet."

Dragunov felt his heart flutter a bit but he couldn't say more than "Yeah?"

She grinned and gave a gentle tug on his belt before letting go.

"Yeah. I won't be finished with you until much later you sneaky little rodent."

She pulled the paper flower from behind her back and put it into one of the small breast pockets.

"You'll have to come and see the empty space in my apartment. Then maybe I'll finish with you."

Dragunov was elated, he'd been dreaming of this for two years.

"Yeah then, after work alright?"

She brushed a paw down his crotch and onto his thigh.

"I'll wait up for you. Just don't work all night okay?"

He swelled at the attention.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

She winked and went back to her desk, and it took Dragunov a few moments to realize he was still staring after her.

He opened the door to his office and saw a bit of disarray. Things were knocked off his desk and his books were arranged in a neat circle in the centre of the desktop.

"The hell happened here?" He stuck his head out the door and shouted to Alexa, "Did someone go in my office?"

She yelled back in the negative.

He got a smell of fresh herbs for a brief instant and the colour drained from his face.

That prick found him, and was in his office.

Dragunov pulled out his cannon and swept the corners and closets carefully before returning to his desk. In the centre of the ring of books was a stuffed animal and taped to its chest was a picture.

The rat plucked it from the plush toy with shaking paws.

The picture was a young girl, looked just barley out of puberty. She was sitting in her room watching cartoons and hugging the very animal on his desk.

The time stamp said it had been taken this morning, and Drag feared for her.

He knew what was going to happen, and his need to drink himself stupid probably contributed to it.

"Oh you poor thing." Was all his brain let him say. It was too busy punishing the poor bastard with images and thoughts of suffering.

He turned it over in his paw and saw written on the back in harsh script, a message to him.

"Sweet little Emily alone in bed. Whatever thoughts are going through your head? If you move swift and can stop me today. You might just spare her pain and much dismay."

Dragunov felt sick. The bastard was toying with them both. But what really bothered him was he didn't know where she was, and how to save her.

"Emily, where are you? How can I save you?"

Turning the picture back over he saw something odd about the picture. The plastic film that usually covered the reactive part of the picture was coming loose, but the rest of the photo was pristine.

He opened his desk and got out his travel kit, and used the tweezers to remove the film.

The film had a very faint residue on it, and drag could make out shapes but not enough to determine what they meant.

The journalist went back in his head a long time, and remembered a trick his friends used when they were kids. He put the plastic sheet on a book cover and pulled apart one of his mechanical pencils.

"Clever git, must have known I'd figure it out though."

The thought worried him but not enough to throw the girl to the wolves.

He crushed up the lead in a coffee mug with the handle of his letter opener and sprinkled the resultant powder over the sheet, then carefully lifted it.

There were city planning coordinates on the inside of the thin material.

Dragunov wrote them down so he wouldn't forget, then put his pistol away and headed out with the picture in hand.

"Don't worry Emily, I'm on my way."

The words sounded embarrassingly cliche in his head but he felt their conviction.

He closed the door behind him as he rushed out of the office, stopping only to ask Alexa to call him transport to one seventeen.

He made it to the elevated street outside in record time, though the wait for his transport was akin to waiting for one' own execution.

The car itself was a newer model transport, as he hadn't heard it land next to him while he was looking the other way.

The sound of the door opening caused the rat to jump and he instinctively reached for the holster, stopping when he realized what had happened.

The driver was a young silver fox, probably not much older than Emily.

"Where to boy?" He asked with a mild derision in his voice.

Drag wasn't in the mood to cater to his vanity.

"I have bullet wounds older than you. Call me boy again and I'll violate the fucking Accord."

This made his eyes widen almost comically, but Drag had to jump inside the passenger area when he saw him reach to hit the close button.

"Not gonna leave me behind are you boy? Drive me to one seventeen and the faster the better."

The smallish fox didn't say anything but the acceleration of his taxi was fierce.

Dragunov fastened his harness and thought about how he missed being able to make good on threats like that. Had he tried that with a more experienced cabbie, he'd likely be fighting for his life, still standing outside the office waiting for another transport, or trying to bullshit some police.

The ride itself was over rather quickly, as he'd been checking routes to his destination on the free map computer that was in most newer cabs.

"Here you go, put your money in the slot and get out. The fare is displayed on the screen."

Apparently he had gotten his nerve back.

Drag put a crumpled fifty in the slot and got out.

He was a few kilometres away from his destination but the beast picked his target well. The only way to her building was through a series of catwalks and foot paths between the buildings.

He set off as fast as his feet would carry him, shouldering through foxes and other less common mammals, much to their dismay.

He had to hand it to this freak, he was smart enough to make things difficult for him.

Stopping to check his progress on one of the map screens that were essential for life on the Reynard, Drag caught his breath and looked around.

The foxes were going about their business as usual for the most part. The odd rodent was getting stares, but no more than usual. Dragunov figured that most non vulpines in this sector lived ghettos.

His stamina returned and his path planned out, he continued to his hasty rescue.

Dragunov was only a short distance away, and would be there soon.

He figured he was running headlong into a trap, but the bastard had a large bore surprise waiting for him.

Drag hopped from one of the metal catwalks down to the next to save time. The foot traffic here was minimal, and he didn't get any grief from the two pedestrians he saw.

He started counting buildings between the numbered corners of the housing projects that the poorer foxes were forced to live in.

He at last came to his destination after the fourth building on his right.

The facade was painted plates that were supposed to resemble brick, but in reality they only hammered home how fabricated everything here was.

A few kids were playing on the large garden area in front of this level's entrance.

"Hey kits, can you tell me how to find room fifteen sixty three?"

They stopped their argument about who would be the wolfen bad guy to eye him suspiciously.

The oldest amongst them raised his light rifle and pushed back his home made bucket helmet to leer at the rat.

"What do you want with miss Emily? You don't look like anyone I've ever seen at her place."

Drag was in a hurry, and he'd likely picked up on that. Time for a little old fashioned bribery to get what he needed.

He pulled out his wallet and flashed his press pass, as well as the corners of a few bills.

"I'm a reporter, and I just want to ask her a few questions. Could you help me out? I'll make it worth your time."

The leader of the impromptu militia was grinning ear to ear.

"Sure thing then, how much we talking?"

The rat deftly opened his wallet and pretended to pull out a single twenty, but really he dropped a few miscellaneous smaller bills to distract them and make them think they were getting more.

"Oops, well here, you can split this right?"

The others were scrambling for the bills that were on the ground, the leader took the money and held it up to the light in his best pantomime of checking authenticity.

"Sure, it will go right in the general's war chest."

The others groaned at this when they saw the denomination then scattered with their own spoils before he could take them.

He puffed up his chest and shot harmless light beams into his friends.

"Stop right there traitors! Deserters will be punished!"

Drag would have chuckled if the situation weren't so dire.

"So where is it?"

The bucket clad dictator shrugged.

"Go left and then up the stairs at the end of the hall, then go straight from the door and she lives at the end. Just look for the stickers of cartoon characters on her door."

Dragunov didn't bother to thank him, he just took off as fast as he could.

The child fired a light beam after him and shouted, "Someone stop that spy!"

Drag nearly knocked over an old woman with the heavy building door.

"Sorry lady." He said gruffly and without slowing down.

Her curses were still ringing after him as he bounded up the stair well.

Blood was pounding in his ears and his adrenaline raced as he saw the tell tale animated creatures signalling he was in the right place.

He drew his pistol and slid the barrel into the overly deep pockets on his coat, still gripping it tightly. There was no need to frighten anyone if he burst in on them.

He could smell herbs again, and the front door was cracked. A small beam of light shone through, giving the rat a glimmer of hope that the beast hadn't hurt her yet.

He pushed the door open with his foot. It swung in with little effort and no noise.

Somewhere in the tiny apartment he heard a TV, but he was more focused on what he saw.

The state of the place was a wreck. Clothes and books strewn everywhere. The light he saw from the hallway was an overturned lamp resting on a pile of papers.

He moved over and prevented the inevitable fire to follow while still taking in his surroundings.

There was a struggle here, but no blood to be seen anywhere.

Dragunov moved from the living room to the kitchen and found it pretty much intact before sweeping with his pocket cannon to the door across the hall.

The bathroom was likewise untouched.

He skipped the linen closet since he knew his tormentor was far too big to fit inside.

The door at the end of the narrow hallway sat just off to the left.

His paws were sweating profusely on the grip of his weapon.

The door itself was closed and he could hear the TV on the other side turned up too loudly for the rat to hear much else.

He reached for the doorknob and the smell of his mother's herb garden grew so intense that he got dizzy for a moment.

Drag knew the thing was here now, and he knew he had to face it.

He threw the door open and swept the room with his eyes, seeing his target sitting on Emily's shredded mattress.

The lanky creature was as tall as he was, and covered in black fur permeated with silver mottling. His facial features, and even the actual shape of his body seemed indistinct. As if it were under moving water.

He had made a throne out of the numerous plush dolls and destroyed clothes in the room.

"About time you showed up. I was nearly tired of waiting. You must be clever though, to have figured out the clue I left you in time for us to have this little talk."

His stomach turned when he realized Emily wasn't here.

"Oh? Do I sense some displeasure in our accommodations? I am afraid that is just too fucking bad now isn't it? You pried too deeply into things you were never meant to understand, and now you must truly know what it is you have found. Go on then, ask your questions."

Dragunov knew the thing in front of him was right too. He knew his habit of looking too hard and digging too deep had sprung this trap on him. There was nothing else to do but try and figure out what had happened to the girl before shooting this prick in the head.

"Well then I suppose the first question is, what are you?"

The thing looked bored.

"That question gets tiring. I have answered it the same way for so long that I find the whole dance to be rather boring. I am the dark. Now make the next one more interesting."

A vague answer from a madman. Why was he not surprised?

"Okay then, how about this. How do you make everything so dark? How do you turn out the lights?"

It was still bored looking.

"You have used your second helping of my patience with another boring question. I simply hate the light so intensely that it goes away. Try again, try harder."

This was going nowhere fast, and the only reason Drag could think of was that this wad all been planned out and it hadn't gone on long enough to satisfy the monster.

"Why don't you just tell me what you are then?"

The silver and black furred fox like thing pulled the head off of a stuffed rabbit and tossed it at him.

"That wasn't a question, that was a demand. Why don't you just ask me what you really want to know?"

Dragunov could feel the trigger give ever so slightly under his claw.

"What's that then?"

The thing grinned.

"Why, whatever has become of poor little Emily? I guess there is no harm in telling you now though. I mean, she is dead. Not much else I can do to hurt he..."

His words were drowned out by the deafening roar of the wolf army hand cannon going off in the tiny room.

The flash of the muzzle caught Drag's coat on fire and the recoil at the odd angle sprained his wrist.

The black beast was laying back in the pile of stuffed animals that had just been rendered into a makeshift blizzard.

Drag couldn't see its head.

"Cocky bastard."

Was all he managed to say before the thing exploded into laughter.

"It will take much, MUCH more than tha..."

Dragunov emptied the entire magazine into the black form without hesitation.

The shadowy figure just stood up, unhindered.

"Shame that you keep trying guns, they never work. But if you're going to be so rude as to not let me finish, I think I'll go. I have a guest to attend, and I do so want to take my time with her."

The creature dove out of the window as a black blot on the rat's perception.

She was alive, and he blew it. He knew he had to try and follow the rapist shade.

Dragunov climbed out onto the fire escape and looked around but it was no use. The lights this far away from any main hub were always dim at best, and the blackness that followed the monster made sure he was impossible to track.

It didn't stop Drag from trying. He managed to avoid the authorities and search for the better part of a day before he had to leave or really risk being arrested.

He headed home defeated and broken, more so than any other time in his life.

The haggard and sore rodent stumbled into his apartment just as his phone rang. Looking down at the picture on the display hit him with sudden guilt to add to his acute and lasting sense of failure at having been unable to help Emily.

Pressing the talk button he sighed softly before saying, "Hello Alexa."

She had been crying, he could hear it in her voice despite her best efforts to cover it up.

"Are you okay? You're a few hours late taking me home you dirty rat."

He wished things had gone differently, and he could have made that appointment more than any other, but now he wasn't in any mood.

"I know. He set a trap for me."

She was crying again.

"I had to use the gun, and it still didn't matter. He took this little girl and used her as bait to lure me. When I got there she was gone and he was waiting to taunt me. He said she was dead so I shot him in the face until my gun was empty."

Dragunov unscrewed the cap on a bottle of whiskey but when he smelled it remembered his shame. He crossed over to the sink and dumped the contents into the drain.

Alexa sighed in what Drag thought was relief.

"At least he's dead then."

Drag felt his spine tremble.

"No love, he isn't. It didn't do a damned thing but make him laugh."

Her response was quick.

"What the hell do you mean he laughed? No one can survive that many slugs in the face."

She sounded irritated.

"Well, I really don't know. He might have had a force field or... shit I just don't know. All I do know is he said he had the girl alive when he jumped out the window. I spent most the day dodging the police and trying to find where he went but I couldn't find a damned thing. That poor girl is suffering, maybe dead because I couldn't stop him." Alexa was calm but obviously worried for him when she spoke next.

"Drag, if you had killed him, there is no guarantee she'd have been found. Or he might have been lying again. You tried your best, and you're alive. So don't do anything stupid and come see me after you've had some rest okay?"

Dragunov couldn't argue. His old feet ached and probably bled if the wet spot he felt on his sock meant anything.

"Okay love. Tomorrow I'll swing by bright and early so you can see that I am in one piece yeah?"

She seemed relieved by this and simply said, "Sure."

Drag was crying when he ended the call, not sure if the tears were for Alexa, Emily, or himself.

He went an sat on his bed for a while, cleaning his gun and reloading it.

This was something he did when he needed peace. The repetition and mechanical nature of it let his mind focus on something mundane long enough for his nerves to settle.

He fell asleep for the second time in a row with a gun in his hand, a fact that didn't seem to bother him when he later discovered it.

The alarm he had set before passing out from exhaustion rang loudly off the close walls of Drag's bedroom, rousing him from sleep with all the grace of gladiator's fist.

He looked over at his alarm and glared evilly before shutting it off and fetching his clothes from the floor.

He didn't have time for a shower or food, he needed to go see Alexa.

Dragunov had felt his life slipping away before all this happened and the vixen was the only good thing to come his way in a very long time. He couldn't risk losing her from all this too.

The ride to work was a short one, and blissfully uneventful.

He paid the cabbie and went up the three flights of stairs to the offices.

This early in the morning Alexa was usually the only one here, and that is what Dragunov was hoping for. His disappointment must have been evident on his face when Drexler opened the door.

"Wipe that sorry look off your face, you got work to do."

The rat wasn't in the mood to do much other than console the only woman in over ten years to treat him right.

"Fine then, spit it out so I can be on my way."

His employer seemed a little taken aback but not enough to say anything.

"Fine then, have it your way Brevich. Your lead from yesterday was found."

His heart rate jumped to a pounding bass in his chest.

"Alive I hope?"

The old fox nodded.

"Yeah, and I managed to get this from an outside source so you can go talk to her. Poor thing was roughed up real bad. They got her in a recovery ward over on deck sixty seven. It hasn't hit the news yet so as long as you get a visitor's pass you can get by the desk and see her. Just your luck that my neighbour is having surgery on his heart today in the very same hospital, or so you're gonna tell the nurse. Guy is out cold and all you need to do is pick up flowers on the way and remember the name Felix Ardenne. Think you can handle that?"

Drag was having mixed emotions. He was glad Emily was alive, but she hadn't gotten away. He felt responsible still, and he didn't want to upset her any more than she already was.

"Yeah boss, I can remember that."

He accepted the roll of money for further expenses before he went to his office.

Dragunov picked up the discarded toy from his desk.

"I bet she'll be happy to see you at least."

He sighed heavily and removed his shoulder holster, tucking it into the gap between his desk and the wall.

He felt naked without it but it really hadn't done him any good before.

"Guess you'll have to do." He mumbled to the stuffed toy before stuffing it in his coat and heading to the street.

He arrived at the hospital a few hours later, pissed off at the sheer amount of time it had taken due to inter-deck transit backup.

"Your stop buddy. You want me to wait for ya to give ya ride back its gonna be on the meter."

Dragunov disliked this man immensely after their ride here. He smelled of farts and old cabbage , and his attitude was one of relaxed indifference to any and all things. He was on the meter and that was all he cared about.

"Sure, I shouldn't be more than an hour."

The cabbie smiled at the thought of being paid to not work for an hour and fished a video game out of his centre console and ignored his fare.

Drag stopped and bought a tasteful arrangement from the gift shop and used the bag from them to conceal the stuffed animal.

Flowers in hand and info remembered, he bluffed his way past the desk nurse with ease.

He caught a lift and rode it up a few floors before disembarking and heading to the next checkpoint.

This nurse was a little better at her job and asked him which patient he was here to see.

"Mr. Felix Ardenne." He gave without hesitation or any real concern.

The woman's response was pretty quick though.

"You have the wrong floor. He is one floor down in room seven C."

Dragunov had expected to check the clip boards outside the rooms to find Emily but an opportunity presented itself.

"I'm not sure I know where on the floor to go. I've gotten lost twice already. Could you show me a map or something?"

The nurse frowned a bit but spun the holographic display a little so he could see it. Drag quickly scanned it for Emily's room. Finding it while the nurse struggled to change map layers on a reversed screen.

"See this desk? Leave the elevator and go here, then check in and make a right. He should be the fourth door on the left."

Dragunov put on his best smile.

"Thanks a lot ma'am."

He left and went back to the lift and rode it down then made sure no one was looking when he rode it up two floors.

He'd remembered a name from the floor above while the previous nurse had fumbled with the map, and used this to bluff his way past the desk nurse there.

He walked down the quiet hallway with slight echoes of his feet ringing out until he found the stairwell.

He went down the stairs carefully peeked out and down the hall towards Emily's room.

The rat saw a vacant chair beside the door and a lone police officer flirting with a nurse a way's away. He seemed distracted enough, so Drag walked out and to the room door.

The rat had been quiet when he opened the door, and the girl started when she saw him.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Go away!"

The words were more of a run on sentence than actual questions. She only meant the last part and Drag could feel it.

"It's okay, I brought someone to see you."

He tossed the flowers on a table and pulled out the toy.

Her eyes brightened for a second then narrowed.

"How did you get that?"

Dragunov stayed where he was and gently tossed it on the bed.

"I'm sorry love, I was too late. He left this so I could find you."

She seemed to understand.

"Okay then, well he kind of said someone would come looking for him. I guess that's you right?"

Drag frowned and felt bile rise in his throat.

"Probably, yeah. Can I sit down?"

She nodded at him and winced. There were ligature marks on the girl's neck and she had bandages covering a large portion of what the rat could see.

He picked up a chair and sat at the end of her bed in it.

"I'm sorry Emily. I tried."

She was crying quietly and stroking the toys head.

"Don't be stupid. You know you couldn't have stopped him. The police told me I was missing for 3 days."

Dragunov's mind raced. He hadn't grabbed her in response to his actions, but had used her as his pawn. He felt relieved then ashamed of himself for feeling that way.

"Well then I am sorry for being stupid. I thought I could stop him, spare you from all this."

She looked a little angry but more sad.

"I don't even know who you are, why should I care what you think? Why should you care about me?"

Drag was at a loss for words now, so he sat in silence.

The silence itself seemed to go on forever and it was Emily who broke it.

"I'm sorry. Thank you for bringing me this." She gestured to the animal. "But I don't know what to say. He didn't tell me anything other than you were coming, and to tell you something else, I can't remember it though."

Dragunov wiped his eyes and stood up.

"Please try for me, it might help me catch him."

Emily looked at the tall rat and wondered all the same things over again and how this man fit into them.

"He said something about paper flowers. I don't..."

Drag practically shouted "Alexa!" before running to the door.

"Sorry Emily but I have to go now. I'll check in on you later and explain everything."

He opened the door and bolted for the stairwell before the cop or nurse knew what happened.

When the officer enquired who had been there Emily could only say "A man."

The cabbie was upset at having to flee the hospital and threatened to throw Drag out on his ass more than once, but a fist full of money and promises of more got him back to the offices in half the time it had taken to meet the girl.

It was on the night cycle now, and shadows were everywhere. Dragunov was scared, not for himself but for Alexa. He knew he had to find her.

He rang her personal number again. He had done this more times than he could count on the way back from meeting Emily, whom this beast used for bait to lure Dragunov away.

"Shit." He muttered as he hit the first landing. He was running up the steps full tilt now, his legs burning with exertion.

The cabbie was shouting obscenities at him from the street below for the speed and lack of ceremony given to paying the fare. The rat had thrown it at him before jumping out of the still moving transport.

Drag didn't care, he couldn't fail her. It was his fault she was involved in this is and he had to save her.

The window in the door was lit up from the inside, giving the rodent a tiny bit of relief as he grabbed the doorknob.

The door was locked.

Cursing, the rodent fished his keys out of his coat, and attempted to unlock the door.

A few missed insertions and he felt the key turn in the lock.

He pushed the door open slowly as something heavy was in front of it.

The air that rushed forth from the room was a mix of herbs and the smell of Alexa's hair. It was sickeningly strong and caused Drag to gag audibly.

"About time you got here, I was getting _ close." _

He used his shoulder to force the door the rest of the way open, seeing shadows dancing from the lamp that had been knocked off of the overturned file cabinet that was in front of the door.

"Hold fast and watch prey, this is for you."

Dragunov froze, locked into place at the sight that he beheld. Shadows played of the scene giving it an unreal quality and making it all the more disgusting.

The fouls shade that he had been hunting glared at him with its silver, hypnotic eyes.

He had suspended Alexa from a beam in the destroyed drop ceiling by cords ripped from the various electronics in the office. Her legs were bound at the knees, her wrists stretched above her head around another beam. He had used the straps from Dragunov's pistol holster as a makeshift gag.

Dragunov was furious.

"You sick fu.."

"Silence." Interjected the thing in front of him.

He pulled back on Alexa's head using the straps like reigns. She groaned out and sobbed around the leather.

"You have impeccable taste rodent. This slut's ass has pleased me far more than her other holes."

The rat's eyes widened as he saw the dark fluid leaking from the corner's of Alexa's muzzle and nose.

The creature smiled and hauled the vixen upright so his captive audience could see him thrusting hard. With each pump, a little trickle of black slime dribbled from her crotch.

"I see you are jealous of my work. No matter, I am almost done and you may have her when I've finished. Should we let her weigh in on this situation?"

The shadow thing released the leather gag and leaned close so her ear, still fucking relentlessly. The fox was sobbing and moaning as he gripped her right breast tightly causing her to cry out.

"Speak whore."

The words must have released his control over her voice because she looked right at the paralysed rodent.

"Drag! Help me!" Her pleas cut off by another fierce squeeze.

"Shut up. Your words are wasted. He is as much mine as you are."

To punctuate his statement he grabbed her throat and locked hips, inky fluid shooting and leaking to the floor from the sheer volume of it.

Alexa wept as the beast rocked his hips a few times before pulling his engorged member free.

He used his sharp talons to sever the cords suspending her, dumping the used girl to the floor with a painful yelp.

"Kneel quietly." He commanded cruelly.

Alexa stopped sobbing and though still weeping sat on her feet.

The creature stepped sideways so Dragunov could see her face as he wiped his slick and veiny cock off on her muzzle.

"Good girl."

Dragunov felt his fists clench and realized he could move again. Not wasting any time he threw himself at the rapist shade.

He didn't see the creature move but fell hard on the floor beside Alexa who gasped loudly.

"Stop!" Commanded the creature.

"We can't have you doing something so foolish can we? Sit here until I am gone, the both of you."

The black and silver monster regarded his work warmly for a moment and a grin before walking out the door whistling.

The two of them sat in stunned silence for a few very long feeling minutes.

Dragunov tried to wipe some of the inky smears off her face with a kerchief but she shrieked and pulled away from him.

He stuttered a bit when he spoke. "I-I'm sorry Alexa. I couldn't..."

His words trailed off, but he had seen this a few times in his past work. Nothing you could say or do would fix this, only time and that is if she was lucky and strong.

He took off his coat and laid it between them on the floor.

Alexa stared at it for a while before wrapping it around herself.

"Dragunov... don't tell anyone about this."

Her voice quaked and she began to cry softly for a while but refused his attempts at comfort.

"Just don't touch me rat. Just, take me home and don't tell anyone. Nobody will believe me."

Dragunov was choked up.

"I will Alexa. I will."

She looked at him sternly for a moment then conceded, "I guess you will. You felt it too."

Dragunov cleared the doorway and sent a short message to his boss after gathering as much evidence as he could to keep with Alexa's wishes. The cops wouldn't like it but right now he didn't really care.

The fox girl buttoned up his heavy coat and went to the bathroom to clean herself up before fetching the keys to her personal transport.

"Here Drag, you drive. I'd just crash right now."

He wasn't sure he'd do much better under the circumstances but he had no desire to upset her further.

"Sure thing."

He took the keys and locked up the office with his own that were still in the lock.

They rode in silence all the way to Alexa's place.

He walked her to her door and checked inside for her before saying a short goodbye and taking a long walk home to dispose of the evidence for her.

It dawned on him that his gun was missing just after he tossed the materials into a trash incinerator chute.

Drag sighed and lit his pipe. He took a deep pull and choked hard for a few moments. He knew what the thing was doing to him. It was depriving him of all his comforts, to make him feel vulnerable.

The worst part is, it was working.

Dragunov felt helpless for the first time since childhood.

He hated the feeling, and knew he'd never have peace with this monster at large.

Alexa was alive and as safe as she could be anywhere at home.

Drag smoked his pipe as he walked, the rat figured that he'd better be moving home too, so he could figure out how to end this.

Waking from his fitful sleep, Drag wiped crust from his eyes and cursed loudly upon stepping out of bed directly on his discarded gun.

The hammer on it was exposed in wolf military fashion and cut his foot slightly.

Bending over he picked the cannon up and tossed it onto his bed before wrapping his bleeding foot with a sock.

"Well, I am bloody awake now." He grumbled while waiting for the wound to clot enough to make it to the medicine chest.

Limping mostly clothed into his bathroom to dress his wound, the rodent saw himself in the mirror. He was a shadow of his former self, unkempt and greasy looking. The sight was akin to how he felt. This case, or story, or whatever, was killing him and destroying those around him.

Brushing the bile taste from his mouth, Dragunov drifted through a lazy pantomime of his morning routine.

He made instant coffee in the sink but skipped breakfast. He was too nerve fried to eat.

The night's pondering was mostly fruitless as to where to begin hunting in earnest for the beast, and the only lead he had was deck one seventeen and the place where he first got his info.

He strapped the gun to his hip with some twine and an old belt since he had to toss his holster.

Grabbing a spare coat from the closet to appear a little less conspicuous without a cannon hole in the pocket, the rat turned vigilante set off for the street.

He passed Mrs. Gilda on the way out but said nothing. Drag was afraid that even acknowledging her would pull her into this.

He hit the landing of the building and scanned for a transport. After a short walk to a nearby haunt, he rustled up a driver and was on his descent into Hell.

Dragunov really felt as if the words running through his head were true. There was no darker a set of circumstances in his life than these, and the apprehension was fierce.

The driver had given up on conversation by the time they had left the first street. Just as well Drag though, he hadn't wanted to waste the effort on what could be his last day alive.

The ride there seemed to take almost no time at all, and after paying the driver, the rodent stepped into the wet streets of one seventeen with all the conviction of a condemned man.

"Well then, lets get on with this."

He walked the familiar stretch of street to the noodle shop. The chairs were being flipped down and the shutters were only half open when the rat ducked underneath.

The old fox with his bleached fur was filling a vat with water when he noticed the lanky rodent.

"You look like shit. I should assume you have found your monster?"

Drag was in no mood for anything today, and revealed what he concealed on his hip.

"Met a few times, not found. Which is where you come in."

The old man didn't seem too concerned.

"Put that away stupid! You want to get arrested before your little showdown? You want information you pay for it ass wipe!"

Drag was silently regretting the threat now as the price had likely gone up.

"So rat, I am the only fox who knows where your nemesis hides, or you wouldn't have come back to me."

Drag was cornered and he knew it.

"Fine, what do you want?"

The fox turned the flames up under the vat and fitted a big wire basket to the top of it.

He turned back to the rat and fished out a pair of tea cups.

"Same as last time, you're too good for business to gouge over a petty threat. Tea?"

Drag sat down and accepted the cup but thought about how to get the info when he had little cash on hand.

"Thank you. I don't have the five hundred now though."

The fox looked him up and down for a minute.

"Give me what you have, come on turn out your pockets. I'll take everything aside from your gun, then you get information."

Dragunov was surprised at him but did as he was asked.

The fox ignored the money and his phone and reached straight for the ornate pocketwatch Drag always carried.

Dragunov felt a pang of emotion shoot through his chest.

"That was a gift from my father."

The fox grinned at him before coolly suggesting, "Well then if you survive I will sell it back to you for five hundred. Fair no?"

Drag wasn't sure he was coming back, better the fox has it than his monster.

"I'll hold you to that."

The owner of the shop swept everything into his cash box.

"Okay rat, your monster is clever yes? But not as clever as an old fox. I saw his attacks here on the news, and noticed a pattern. I went to look around a while and see him skulking about, so I follow him."

Drag was impressed, the beast seemed to be downright psychic when it came to being followed, he'd tried and failed, but this fox had done it, well according to him anyway. He had no reason to doubt the fox's claim after his last info came back solid.

"So where did he go?"

Refilling the cup for Drag, the bleached fox finished his tea and spat in the sink under the counter.

"I'm getting to that part. There are factories here that used to be for making cheap building materials for population growth. Cheap shit like they use on the far end of the deck. He lairs in one of the old metal smelting plants a few clicks from here. Not many lights down that way, I suspect this is why he goes there."

Dragunov was sweating now.

"Which one? I need to put this beast down."

The old fox tossed a large brick of noodles into the basket.

"Plant fifty-three thirteen, back building, look for the steam vent from the boilers. What type of noodles do you want for what could be your last meal rat?"

Dragunov was halfway off his stool when the fox had finished speaking.

"Well then, give me something with meat in it. I can't refuse so gracious an offer can I?"

The old fox narrowed his eyes at him.

"If you did I wouldn't see you again. Fools rush in they say. I'll feed you well, try to enjoy it."

The water started boiling quickly as the meat sizzled in the curved pan next to it.

The smell coming from the meat changed slightly when the fox doused it in a thick sauce.

Dragunov sat on the stool feeling oddly serene while he waited. He knew what had to be done, and he knew where to go now. Not much else to do but see it through.

The fox banged the basket of noodles to shake off excess water before dumping a heaping portion into a painted bowl and covering it with meat and a ladle of broth.

"Eat. Then go fight your demon."

Drag tucked in quickly but without glut, savouring the taste but eager for the battle to come.

The rat smiled as he chewed and thought, "Or ambush."

The bleached fox refilled his tea once more as the detective turned journalist turned warrior finished his meal.

Drag drank the offering and nodded his thanks before setting off.

The shop owner whistled shrilly and when the rodent looked back he shouted, "Good luck ass wipe!"

Dragunov smiled despite his mood. The man was really wholly responsible for his vendetta having any chance of success.

The walk was cold and lonely. No one was on the streets now, and only the occasional animal foraging on refuse broke the eerie silence.

He had found the rusted fence to the factory jutting from a low concrete foundation at street level falling over in its advanced age.

"So much for security."

Dragunov stepped over the fallen section of oxidized metal as quietly as he could. Though he still made a hell of a racket.

The Boiler stacks were tall and impossible to miss, jutting up from the back of the facility like monoliths to dead gods.

"Cheery home you got here mate. Let us see if you're in shall we?"

Drag wasn't the sort to talk to himself, but he was nervous, and needed a distraction from the adrenaline beginning to course through him.

He drew his weapon and made his way towards the outer wall of a prefabricated metal building that likely housed a factory floor that made materials identical to its housing.

The metal was painted red but was eaten through with rust at points.

Drag peeked through these looking for signs of habitation. Each time he saw none, and continued to the back facility.

The large doors hung open and off their wheeled tracks at the entrance to the building. Large metal conveyors connected the two buildings for fast transit of molten metals. This itself was evidenced by scorch marks and the occasional pile of slag on the ground around Drag.

The rat took a bandana out of his coat pocket and used it to tie the hair out of his eyes before he entered.

The inside was dark as pitch and smelled of fire, the likely reason the factory was shut down in Drag's mind.

He turned on a low intensity flashlight and swept about as he hunted, his gun levelled and supported underneath by his flashlight arm.

There were shreds of clothes tied to various chains and machinery, almost like little ornaments full of hate and pain.

The rat was disgusted, and continued to move slowly, scanning for movement and a distinct lack of light that would give away his quarry.

He saw nothing, heard nothing, and didn't even feel the air move when the first blow struck.

Dragunov staggered from a punch to his liver, nearly dropping his gun in the process.

The laugh that echoed off the walls chilled him to the bone. It was no longer playful and content to tease, there was something more malicious.

"You found me little rat. How bad for you. I won't be letting you go this time. It wouldn't be fair to either of us. Your hard work should be _ rewarded _."

Drag scanned around looking for his target, not saying anything.

The second blow came from above and it flattened the rodent to the factory floor.

Dragunov was dizzy and the weight on his back told him that the monster was still on top of him.

"Get off!" He roared in vain as he tried to turn his gun towards the creature.

"Oh I will! But not before I let you in on a little secret."

The gun was wrenched from his hand and tossed aside like a toy as a set of incredibly sharp teeth punctured the back of his neck.

"I'm venomous bitch!"

The adrenaline in his system was making his heart pump faster and the numbing sensation that started at the bloody bite wound spread quickly.

Fear was all he could feel, fear and anger.

"You've lost rodent, now you are mine to play with."

The creature straddled him for a second before picking Dragunov's mostly limp torso from the dust and soot covered floor.

The creature pulled him to his chest and pretended to dance while Drag's shoes scuffed about on the concrete.

"You aren't much of a dancer are you? No matter, I know other more fun things we can do to pass the time."

The beast shouldered the rat's bulk easily and made its way to the boiler room at the bottom of a rickety metal staircase sunk into the back wall.

Dragunov was blind in the lightless environment, and could only feel the slight warmth of the creature through his clothes and a brush of soft fur on his cheek where it grazed the beast's back.

A large creak echoed as the thing swung open a boiler door and stepped inside.

"Welcome to my abode! You'll stay here with me until I tire of violating every hole in your slender frame."

He tossed the rat onto a dirty mattress covered in shredded sheets.

"Make yourself comfortable for now. Things are about to get rough for you."

The fiend laughed a high pitch cackle and the boiler door was pulled shut with a bang.

The moments turned long as the various noises the monster made echoed off the inside of the large metal chamber.

"I assume you'll want a little light to see. Very well, I shall suffer it simply so you can enjoy what is your self made fate."

A single bulb flared to life blinding the rodent painfully. He blinked slowly, the toxins fully inhibiting his greater motor control only inconvenienced the smaller groups.

The room itself was rustier than most the factory, the light cast a warm glow over everything in the room.

The small chair that the beast straddled was peeling paint, and there was a small table covered in trophies from his conquests and maps of the area.

None of these things really concerned Drag. What did concern him was the converted saw horse sitting next to the table. It was thinly padded with ruined scraps of upholstery, and had straps made from equipment harnesses and seat belts.

"I see you're admiring the rape bench. Crude but apt name. Though you should be grateful, I made it especially for you. I figured you'd eventually come here, and I simply must treat you to the very best hospitality available. I mean, I even padded it for you. Something I have never done for anyone before. I wonder why I did that? Why am I asking you? You can't possibly talk to me right now."

The creature was nude, like always, and he sat in quiet contemplation, fondling himself where Drag could see.

The beast seemed more solid now as it sat thinking. Dragunov could see individual hairs and limbs as opposed to the semi formless mass from before.

The beast smiled and squatted on the floor next to the mattress, getting nose to nose with the paralysed rodent.

"I can grant you the use of your voice back you know. Just be warned, that if you be so droll as to scream or threaten me, I'll just paralyse you again. And we wouldn't want that would we? I rather doubt it. Denying me the sounds of desperation and pain would shorten our time together. Blink twice if you'd like the ability to speak."

Dragunov looked at his captor's face and reflexively blinked from the reflection of the bulb in the shining disks staring back at him.

"Oh well, good enough. I will accept your single blink as compliance. Even though you really have no choice in the matter."

The silver and black furred creature stood up and used his foot to roll Dragunov over onto his back.

The look of perverse delight was apparent to rat as the thing knelt down on the mattress and opened his mouth.

"This should get things underway. I can't have you dry now can I?"

The shadow creature used his claws to systematically cut the clothes from the rat's body, only stopping to remove the belt and shoes.

Dragunov was cold and naked, and knew he was utterly helpless in this state. He figured the thing was lying about his voice, and that it was just another sick game before he was killed and left in the street as some sort of disgusting warning.

The fox like creature tucked its fingers under his cheek and lifted his head up and out of the pool of saliva that had gathered on his cheek.

The creature was cooing at him now.

"Ah, nice and wet. Since you so graciously asked for your voice back I shall give it to you. You see, my semen is capable of tremendous feats of recovery when applied to a damaged or intoxicated area of the body. Don't ask me why, I simply can't be bothered to care beyond the immediate benefits. Like being able to be as rough as I like with you without any chance of you dying from trivial wounds to your more fun parts."

The creature lifted Dragunov's head up and cradled it in his arms like one would hold a frightened child.

He stroked the rat's blue hair out of his face and slowly turned the rodent's head until all he could see was a massive erection directly on his still parted and paralysed lips.

Dragunov's mind reeled with disgust and horror as his nose filled with a myriad of scents he had always found pleasant.

The creature rocked its hips slightly causing it to brush against his lips with a smooth sensation.

Drag couldn't move his limbs of his own accord yet he felt and tasted everything.

The creatures hot flesh was musky from lack of proper bathing but also sweet somehow.

The incapacitated rat didn't have time to ponder this as his head was lifted up and the hot shaft slid along his lips until his face was held aloft over the sharply tapered tip.

"No use feeling upset rodent. You're mine now and there is not a damned thing you can do to avoid this. Do try to enjoy yourself."

With that his head was lowered to the creatures twitching member.

It bounced off the tip of his nose twice before sliding between his parted lips.

Shocking as the sensation was, the creature wasn't rough. He seemed content to feel the inside of the rodent's mouth out with his probing flesh. Dragunov tasted old sweat and the peculiar sweetness more acutely now.

The creature's groin smelled like Alexa's hair the night they made love.

It seemed that everything about this beast was meant to force one to do what he wanted, and Drag couldn't stop himself from feeling aroused slightly from the forced mix of pleasant sensations conflicting with his conscious revulsion at what was happening to him.

It wasn't long before the cock forcing itself into his immobilized head found his throat. Drag didn't gag to his surprise, and felt the pace of the thrusts increasing.

"A gift of the venom. Suppression of the gag reflex. From your groin I can see you are enjoying this aren't you slut?"

For the first time his anger broke and the revulsion fell away to shame.

He wasn't able to control himself, he let himself be captured and now he was pleasuring the thing that had ruined his life, and he couldn't stop his own arousal.

The beast forced its thick knot deep into his prey's face, and shuddered in ecstasy when he felt the contraction of throat muscles around his knot.

Drag's lips met the creature's sheath fur and his eyes watered from the slight asphyxiation before his head was pulled free.

He was staring down at a fully swollen knot leaking black fluid in heavy throbs.

"I almost lost it there bitch! Time to finish this up."

He laid Dragunov on his stomach and propped his head up in a forward position with a pair of mouldy cushions from an abandoned couch.

There was little ceremony to what came next.

The creature pushed its dripping phallus into the rodents mouth as far as it would fit.

He wiped the tears from under the rodent's eyes.

"Men shouldn't cry when you fuck them. You aren't a child anymore."

Sharp claws twisted themselves into the hair at the back of Dragunov's scalp and the creature thrust hard and fast into his throat.

His slack mouth leaked saliva all over the cushion and the creature's dick both, as he was face fucked.

He felt his assailant's pace quicken for few thrusts before the beast forced his hips forward so hard that he fell over top of his captive's back and ejaculated a great torrent of fluid.

Dragunov couldn't see much with the silver and grey torso bearing down on him but he did feel a hairy orb pressed to his lips.

"There you are slut, the first of many for your efforts in tracking me here."

He was panting heavily as he lie on top of the rat.

Dragunov choked violently around the dick still held firmly in his throat and gaged painfully as the creature slid his hips back just enough for him to breath around the knot still in his mouth.

"See now, I told you that I'd fix your throat."

Dragunov started to speak but at the first sign of vibration in his vocal cords the creature thrust into his throat, gagging him anew.

"Silence! You just lie there and taste it for a while. I promise you can beg for release later. For now you should savour your treat."

Dragunov was still for several long minutes while the hot flesh on his tongue pulsed out its last drops and went flaccid again.

During this time Dragunov tried not to think. He knew that this was only the beginning if he didn't escape, but he couldn't move now. He figured that if he memorized the room, when the venom wore off he'd make a break for it. That was, if the bastard didn't keep him dosed.

The creature wiped his flaccid cock on Drag's face and sat down in the little chair next to the mattress.

"Well now that was nice, and you've been fed properly. I must now go out and gather some supplies. You stay here and rest up for further dalliance. I promise next time will be even more fun for one of us."

The blotchy furred creature kicked the cushions out from under the rat.

"Don't worry, the venom doesn't wear off for days and I will only be gone a few hours."

Dragunov felt all the heat drain from him. He knew deep down that the thing wasn't lying.

"Why don't you just kill me and get this over with?"

The creature opened the boiler door by moving the locking rods with its claws.

He stopped in the aperture of egress and pondered.

"When I am done with you, you'll wish I had. Or maybe not. Who knows? Not I."

He hopped through the circular hole and slammed the hatch shut, locking it.

Drag screamed once, but when the echo stopped found he hadn't the strength to do anything else.

He sat in the illumination of the single bulb and hoped the air would run out before the beast came back to torture him again.

This pleasant thought was his last one before his head began to swim and he lost consciousness.

Dragunov was only dimly aware of the banging of the boiler door slamming shut.

He wanted to roll over and look but his body refused to respond still, and his head was swimming like he had been on an all night bender.

"Awaken my pet, I have something for you."

The tone was playful in a perverse way.

The fiend set something down outside of his vision with a clunk. Drag heard cloth rustling for a moment before he heard the telltale sound of a lighter flicking.

"What are you doing now?"

He couldn't bring himself to even call his captor something uncouth.

He didn't speak right away but instead flipped the rat's head over so that he could see the black cloth covered object sitting upright between two lit tapers. The object was tall and narrow, looking like a tombstone under black silk.

"My gift to you plaything. For giving me so much fun. Look closely when the curtain falls."

He set Dragunov up in a sitting position and held him under the arms so he didn't topple.

"I do so hope you're ready for this. It is my greatest feat."

The creature pulled a string he had affixed to the top of the cloth, causing it to fall free and forward away from the candles. The absence of ebony coloured silk revealed a gilt mirror, ornately carved and likely very expensive.

"A mirror and some candles, some feat I must say." Me muttered almost incoherently.

The creature snarled softly.

"Look closely little whore! You'll soon understand."

Dragunov hadn't really paid attention to his reflection before, but now he saw what the thing had meant. He was covered in silver-grey coloured patches with black spreading out from their borders, devouring the white of his fur like a creeping mold.

"The fuck did you do to me?"

His query more of a challenge than lack of understanding.

The creature let him fall over on his side, still facing the mirror.

"You see now! I've made a _ worthy _ adversary to play with. You're the first to come so far in the game, and you are comely I might add. It gives me incentive to beat you at the game. So I can claim you as my prize, again and again."

Dragunov wanted to be sick, but his stomach wouldn't oblige him.

"You know, the moment I am able, you will die. By making this game continue, you're giving me another chance."

The thing snuffed each of the candles and laughed quietly.

"You think I'll reconsider and kill you before you change is that it? I have done this before and it has never harmed me in any way. Though, if any of my spawn could wound me, it would be you. You're so manly and virile. I think now that I will put that virility to good use. Time for round two slut!"

It hopped past the converted sawhorse and placed the mirror directly in front of it.

"So we can both see the look in your eyes."

He tossed the black cloth over the sawhorse contraption before picking up and dragging his captive on top of it.

Dragunov was strapped to the thinly padded wood tightly.

"Are these really necessary? I'm bloody paralysed!" He spat out, slurred from the muscles in his lips being still partially immobilized.

"They are for dramatic effect! If you see yourself bound you'll _ feel _ captive. Not just envenomed. Where is your sense of showmanship?"

He reached down and gripped at Drag's sac tightly for a moment, causing him to yelp.

"The transformation is about to go critical, so I apologize for the lack of proper foreplay. Have you ever been penetrated slut?"

Dragunov's pupils dilated and he tried his best to muster a defiant tone.

"What do you think asshole?"

The creature gripped his ass in each clawed paw and pushed himself past the rodent's threshold .

Drag cried out in pain, immediately regretting his choice of words and seeing his face, frozen from the toxins but his eyes wild with pain and anger.

"Honestly? No."

Everywhere the black seed had touched was mobile, and Dragunov grunted and gripped his teeth to stop from crying out further. He didn't want to give the bastard the pleasure.

The stretching was painful at first and he wanted no part of anything happening to him. The creature slid in and out of the rodent's virgin ass at a relaxed pace.

"I hear your grunts, but no cries of ecstasy, no pleas for mercy, or begging for more pleasure. I wonder if you are really enjoying yourself or not."

Drag felt a hard slap strike his left cheek and the offending claw reach over his thigh to his groin.

The pads of the monster's paws were soft, and his attentions were in time with the thrusts to his rear that the rat was becoming slowly accustomed to. It wasn't long before his erection was slapping the underside of the sawhorse.

"There we are! No sense in not enjoying this. Tell me, do you think you'll cum before I do?"

Drag gasped out loud around a particularly viscous thrust.

"St-op it! I won't..."

His words failed when the beast locked hips with him and leaned over his back to whisper, "I'll make you cum."

Dragunov felt the cold claws comb through his hair and stop on each side of his neck. His heart quickened as he imagined the beast choking him to death.

The sharp talons scratched red welts on his throat but only closed far enough to constrict, not sever breathing.

The creature must have been excited now because Dragunov's ass was making loud slapping and popping sounds from the rapid impact of the thing's hips on his buttocks. He could feel the wideness of his hole gaping around the ever swelling knot savaging his backside.

"Stop. It. Please. I'm begging. You." Each brief exclamation a statement punctuated with a wet slap.

The silver and black creature moved its claws from the rat's neck to his shoulders and gripped firmly.

"Only after we're finished!"

The creature pulled out of Dragunov's gaping ass to view his work before letting a long strand of saliva run from his panting maw into the wide hole below.

Dragunov sucked in a breath of air when he felt the tip enter, and as the creature pulled back, he released it as slowly as he could until he felt the swollen, bulbous knot. He coughed out the last and moaned when he expanded around the anatomy penetrating him, much to his own surprise and dismay.

With a wet squelch the creature had conquered him fully.

"I told you that it was enjoyable, but we really should proceed to the final act."

The thing laid over top of his back and pumped frantically in short violent thrusts into his rectum, panting and snarling softly through clenched teeth into the gasping and moaning rodent's ear.

Dragunov felt the creature's balls slapping his own softly before the telltale build up formed.

He only had time between a grunt and a moan to utter "No." dejectedly before he climaxed onto the dirty floor below.

The thing must have smelled it because it laughed in a low hissing tone.

"My turn. No reason to hold back now."

The thing let go of his shoulders and grabbed the rough hewn legs of the sawhorse and bucked with the force of his entire body.

The rat screamed out half in pain, half in release as he shot reluctant seed from his previous climax weakly into the cooling puddle below.

The black thing shuddered on top of him for a moment as drag felt the twitching, pumping sensation in the beast's genitals.

He knew then that he had been flooded with its hideous seed.

The beast made some sort of high pitched screech or yelp before collapsing on top of him.

"Good show, excellent really. I really must do this to you again soon."

The creature pulled itself free with a sticky pop, and walked over to the hanging bulb.

"You'll soon lose consciousness from the pain of your body's transformation, and when you awake I'll be gone. If you ever want to know what you are and what you are capable of, you'll continue this game. If not, you'll eventually die or be imprisoned, forcing me to start this game over again, possibly with dear Alexa."

Dragunov's rage returned in force.

"You stay the fuck away from her!"

The thing made an infuriating expression half taunt half pity.

"You can't do anything for quite some time yet. I could always pay her a final visit before I leave this ship. If you refuse to play the game she will take your place bitch and don't you fucking forget it!"

The creature crushed the bulb in its fist and wrenched the boiler door open and slammed it shut, the creaking of the locking mechanism the last thing Drag heard aside from his own breath and heartbeat.

He wasn't sure how long he had been alone. Restrained in the darkness, but when the first spasm hit, what was usually his field of vision was filled with white hot pain.

His body shook so hard the sawhorse vibrated across the floor a few inches, and he was drooling heavily.

Dragunov wept like a child for a few moments before a more powerful wracking coursed through him.

He was sure that he'd pissed himself this time, possibly voided his bowels in the pain, but he didn't care much. His pain was beyond measure. He felt every muscle and cell in his body convulsing and the last thing he remembered before he fortunately lost consciousness was the leg of the sawhorse snap.

His head was awash in fury, aching with a combination of electric ants and fiery snakes inside his skull. Dragunov blinked his eyes open blearily and waited for the spinning to stop.

After half an hour or so he decided the spinning wasn't going to get any better, and he tried to move. He was happy to see that the venom had worn off but irritated that he was still bound to a shattered sawhorse.

"Bloody lovely."

Drag tried each of his restraints and found them all quite secure, but the leg that his right arm was lashed to had broken and toppled the whole contraption to the floor.

He wiggled at it from under the combined bulk of himself and the sawhorse until he was free enough to move his limb around and untie his left arm.

The whole process taking a lot longer than he expected.

He freed himself quickly from the rest of the bindings and moved towards the sealed door.

The rodent winced as he stepped on something sharp, and looking down he saw shards of glass around, and unfortunately in, his foot.

He sat on the rickety chair and plucked them out of his pads for a moment before he realized what they were.

"How in the hell?"

He couldn't find a light source anywhere in the room, but could see near perfectly.

Every inch of the room he knew to bitch black was visible in full detail, he realized then, that the mirror was still sitting against the wall.

Dragunov carefully stepped around the remaining shards and squatted down to look at himself.

He stared at his reflection for several minutes, taking in all the details.

He had silver-grey patches all over him where his fur hadn't turned black, his hair was only blue at the ends now, and he had a brilliant silver pattern around his right eye. It was reminiscent of a spiral arm galaxy or a swirling drain, and in the center of it were the most striking of his new features, His eyes.

The eyes themselves were slightly luminescent, and seemed to shine like swamp gas reflecting off of water. They had changed colour, and were now copper ringed in crimson. His pupils weren't very dilated, even in what drag knew to be total darkness.

The new information was registered but not the full enormity of what had happened to him.

The rodent couldn't process being something new aside from looking new. When he thought about how it was he could see, his head swam and he nearly blacked out again.

He decided that escape was the only thing he could do now. So he moved past the table of dreadful keepsakes and wrenched at the arms holding the boiler door in place.

Much to his surprise they opened rather easily albeit loudly.

He swung it open on its hinges and looked out into the factory beyond.

"Fucking hell." was all he could manage, but he put on the shredded remnants of his coat before ascending the metal stairs.

He spent a few moments adjusting to the light from the city shining through the few slatted windows and the hole in the roof before retrieving his wolf army side arm from where it had been flung.

The finish was scratched to shit and the front sight was bent slightly but it seemed to be in working order.

"Good news finally huh love?"

He patted the gun in his palm and put it in his pocket.

The light in the room was irritating, and his eyes stung. Dragunov kept to the shadows and moved towards the large door at the end.

It was closed, probably by that prick he thought, but when he slid it open enough for light to enter, he shrieked and fell backwards.

His gun fell out of his pocket as he scrambled into the shadows.

Dragunov couldn't even curse properly and only garbled out half syllables and nonsense as he struggled to see again.

After a few moments of agony he felt the cool shadows comforting him where he stood.

"Well that was stupid. I can't leave here like this."

He looked around at some desks and work areas and came up with nothing.

"I escape that dungeon just to learn that its my salvation. Typical."

He sat down on a low wooden bench in front of some dust caked lockers and rubbed his eyes before he saw his redemption hanging from a hook on the wall.

"Well bugger me."

The phrase held new connotations to him now but it also was apt. Dragunov walked over and pulled a pair of leather set welding goggles off of a coat hook and tried them on.

"Perfect fit."

He allowed himself a small smile at his fortune before retrieving his gun a second time and exiting into the now bearable light of the Reynard proper.

He walked slowly back the way he had come a few days before, this time a whole new being, caked in filth but happy to be alive. It meant if he was alive, and looking like the thing would leave Alexa alone. Who knew, maybe in a few years she'd be able to see him. He wouldn't show up now looking like he did. The girl would likely die of a heart attack.

Dragunov Brevich was many things, but lucky wasn't one of them apparenty. He knew that he could add a new line to his business card now, monster.

He sucked in the dank air of deck one seventeen and composed himself.

"I guess its time to see a man about a watch."

-The end, for now.