{"sf1_id":559622,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Wanderings and Murder - Chapter 2","author":"Chorus the Coyote","words":1662,"posted_at":"2013-07-05T05:34:00.000Z","tags":["Fanfiction","Series","Sonic The Hedgehog","Wandering","murder"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/559622-wanderings-and-murder-chapter-2","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/559622","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=559622\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"Chapter 2, and we have something happening. We've wandered a little and someone has been murdered. The story will pick up the pace once our murdering protagonist has gotten his bearings, have no fear.\nThough nothing copyrighted has shown up yet, I should mention that Sonic the Hedgehog is property of Sega.","content":"\nThe\nlandscape beneath me barely changed over the long hours flapping in the dead\nair; I might've thought I was flying in circles if it hadn't been for the\ngrowing stench. I didn't know what to call any of the foul, acidic smells that\ncame to clog the air around me, all I could determine was that there were more\nof them the longer I followed what I hoped was the trail of something much\nsweeter.\nI saw\nirregular shapes coming up on the horizon, and I flapped harder; any change to the\nmonotonous landscape was welcome and worth a closer look. In closing the\ndistance, I saw these were boxy shapes, bigger than the barn, arranged\nseemingly at random and they stretched farther than the fields around the barn.\nThe cloud of burning scents, each of them so different but all horrible in the\nsame way, was so thick by the time I reached these boxes that my eyes stung. I\nfinally locked my sore wings and let myself coast down through the choking\natmosphere to land on top one huge box.\nMy\nclaws clicked and grinded on the surface, and I grunted in surprise when I\nfound I could not dig them in. Whatever these structures were made out of, they\nwere hard and gray as rock, but smelled much, much worse. I found myself\nthinking concrete.\nI was\nremembering things again. It was similar to the reading: it was just a matter\nof remembering the words. This was concrete; it made the roof of a building.\nMany buildings next to each other, stretching to the horizon like the clouds\nhad come to earth, was a city. The terrible smell of this place probably came\nfrom smoke, fumes, chemicals, whatever the people living here burned, used,\nspilled, and inhaled every day. I tried to breathe through my mouth; the soft\ninside of my nostrils felt like it was peeling. I immediately snapped my mouth\nshut, tasting the greasy fumes of the place on my tongue. Whoever lived here\nmust have lost their sense of smell altogether out of necessity, just to\nbreathe.\n\"The\nlid of the coffin rattled and pushed up ...\"\nSomeone\nhad spoken. My body froze; I don't know why, but I didn't want him to hear me.\nI held my ears up and made them as big as I could.\n\"The\ncoffin hadn't been designed to keep a struggling person inside, only stop a\nthief from getting in. But what pushed out was a thief in its own right.\"\nIt came\nfrom beneath me, echoing up the sides of my building and the building adjacent.\nLifting my toes slightly to keep my claws off the grating concrete, I moved\nquietly to the edge. I surmised he hadn't been there a few minutes ago to hear\nmy tired, clumsy landing. Or else, he just hadn't minded; it was possible that\nbeing on rooftops was commonplace. After all, I wouldn't know.\n\"It\nheaved the lid clear. No good, natural creature could have thrown such a heavy\npiece of stone; the strength of the Devil pushed with it.\"\nWith\nhis next sentence, I had come to the edge, right over his head. He was curled\nagainst the wall with his knees drawn up, a glowing object in his left hand, a\nfeathery paper thing in his lap, resting on his knees. I placed them: flashlight\nand book. The light confused me; I hadn't seen anything so bright yet, and it\nboggled my mind why he needed it. I'd read my letter without one just fine.\nSurely he would only use such bright light, so bright that it was hurting my\neyes even from here, if he didn't really need it.\n\"It\ndrove itself out of the coffin, its horrible will to feed will not letting it\ndie. Die and turn to dust, as it should.\" His small, thick red tail twitched\nand trailed in a cloudy puddle, soaking the fur. He didn't seem to notice. His\nears flicked against his head as his low whispers continued, like he was\nafraid. \"Stricken with rigor mortis, it jerked and stumbled, its head lolling.\nIt shambled for the door slowly, determined in its sinister purpose.\"\nThere\nwas a particular noise coming from him, a steady thumping. My ears turned\nfurther down toward him. I wasn't sure what it was, but I liked that sound. It\nwas like a perfectly timed drum beat, just under the sound of his whispers.\n\"Its\nbare, bone-hard feet clacked on the cold stone floor, rattling ...\"\nI\nrealized what it was, as it grew louder, enough that I could hear a wet and\norganic quality to every beat: it was his heart. I was hearing the rhythmic\ncontractions of his heart, betraying his growing nervousness as it grew faster.\nI stopped hearing his words, just his hushed, tense voice, interrupted by his\nquick breathing, like instrumentation to accompany the lovely, almost\nharmonious, beat. I felt a slight lurch of excitement for every pounding in his\nchest, and my own heart responded. My heartbeat was not the same as his; it\nsounded and felt sluggish, painful, like every clench was a chore. I yearned\nfor his, that quick in-and-out of his, alongside his breathing, so easy for him\nand so perfect a sound. It caressed the inside of my ears, and I could almost\npicture the muscle in his chest, pumping tirelessly in perfect time.\nThe\nimage made me feel strange, in every cell of my body; all my muscles became\ntense at once, pulling on my bones and making them shiver with the strain. The\ncold I'd been feeling all night became so acute that I thought I might freeze\nsolid and shatter; it dug deep into my body, like the night air hated me. I\ninhaled sharply, and almost choked.\nI could\nsmell him.\nThe\nburning chemical smells were forgotten; I was so focussed on that nervous boy\nwith his pretty little heartbeat that I didn't notice anything that wasn't him.\nHis sweat, slightly sour and metallic with fear, rose off him hotly, carried on\nthe heat from his body. I could practically feel the warmth of him from here;\nhe was a fire, smouldering in the dank alley.\nMy\nmouth tingled and gushed with saliva, coating my teeth, which were grinding and\ntwisting in my gums again. They pushed against the inside of my lips, their\npoints parting them. I cracked open my jaw to give them room. They'd shoved\ntheir way outward with intent, and with every breath I took, every little\nnuance of his scent I savoured, I became more and more sure what that intent\nwas.\nMy\nfangs were dripping; in the glare of his flashlight, I see could drops falling, landing on\nthe pages of his book. He stopped speaking, and craned his neck back, pointing\nhis muzzle straight up. I met his wide, dark eyes, savouring the little stutter\nin his heartbeat. For one second, neither of us moved, knowing what would\nhappen next.\nHe drew\nin air. I shoved myself over the edge and dropped down, stretching my forepaws\ntoward him. He only had time to let out a high yip before I collided with him,\npinning his small, skinny body down, one massive paw pressing his muzzle\nagainst the wet, black pavement. His hot, fragile body writhed helplessly\nbeneath me, warming my belly. I drove my huge teeth right at his exposed chest,\nwhere the music of his life came from. They speared right into his flesh,\nsliding in easily with the fluid of my mouth, and he gave a weak shudder,\nchoking wetly. I tossed my head back, yanking my teeth out and the unblocked\nwounds spurted with blood.\nAll I\ncould process was the heat, and the bittersweet taste, as more and more sprayed\nout of his body onto me. I opened my jaw as wide as I could, swallowing gulp\nafter gulp, whimpering with relief. The unimaginable warmth flooded the center\nof me, shot out to the very tips of my wings, drove away every trace of the\npainful cold. It was a long, glorious time before I could no longer hear his\nheart, and the flow stopped. I licked up what remained, slurping the still\nblood out of his thin fur, ripping at his wounds a little to see what more I\ncould get out of the corpse. The vitality, the heat, was gone; I only wanted to\nget what little was left of his warm life before the chill of the night air did\nits work.\nWhen he\nwas cold under my paws, as cold as I had been mere minutes ago, I walked off a\nfew paces and sat down to lick his remains out of my fur. This thick fur\ntrapped so much blood that I honestly wondered if any amount of licking and\ngrooming could get me clean. I remembered what he'd been holding, and turned to\nsee the book and the flashlight, still lying off to the side where he'd dropped\nthem. I kicked aside the useless light, and picked up the book. There was\nsurprisingly little blood staining its pages; a few drops along the edges, but\nit was otherwise alright. It must have landed in just the right spot to avoid\nthe splatter.\nGingerly,\nI turned over the cover, revealing the impossibly thin, delicate pages. His\nhands had been so much smaller; it was obvious that the book hadn't been meant\nto be handled by claws like mine. I debated whether to try and read it; after\nall, the last thing I'd read had been so disappointing. But, this had many more\npages than the letter, and what he'd been whispering to himself had intrigued\nme. It must be worth something to keep it.\nBut,\nthere was the matter of how I was to carry it with me. I looked at his bloody\nshirt, and got an idea.\n","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/503630-wanderings-and-murder-chapter-1.json"}