FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Villany. Sit." Igor Volgolev gestured at the chair opposite him. He considered the young man before him- bald, scarred and hugely muscled, Vasily 'Villany' Polykov was one of his best enforcers. With a small nod, the big man did as requested, the chair creaking beneath his weight.

"You have some work for me?" He asked.

"Yes. A troublesome case. But then, you excel at dealing with such." He grinned, which Vasily mirrored. Igor had a chill run down his back seeing that, but concealed his reaction. "A local user, Fydor Antonov. He has been given... An inordinately long leash, but he has hit the end. Either he pays... Or he pays. Understood?"

Vasily's grin became a bit nastier. "Yes. It will be taken care of. Why was he given such consideration? You are not often so generous."

Sipping his drink, Igor made a sweeping gesture with the other arm. "What, me? I am the heart and soul of generosity!" Muted snorts of laughter sounded from his bodyguards. "But even one such as I have limits. He was given leeway as the friend of a friend; no more. Get my money for me." He handed Vasily a note. "These are the places he's been seen."

Vasily stood, cracking his scarred knuckles as he did. "It will be done. Any... Messages to be left?"

"No. Just deal with it." Igor gestured Vasily away. The big man's form was silhouetted in the outside light at the doorway, and was gone. Igor shook his head. "Another vodka," he ordered quietly, sliding the empty tumbler away from his hand to receive the next. "That one, Piotr... Do not cross him. He is the best, but... There is no heart in him. He would kill his mother if paid." The man spoken to nodded, but said nothing; this was as Igor preferred.

Outside, Vasily shouldered his way past the crowd in the streets; none said a word to him- most knew better, and those that didn't, well. They'd learn. He squeezed into his car, more than most owned and headed to the first location on the list- one of the uglier tenement buildings in the city.

He pushed his way in, making his way to the indicated floor- the elevators didn't work, of course, so his mood was even less pleasant by the time he found his goal- apartment 713. Listening, he heard nothing within... So he kicked in the door.

A wave of stink hit him- unwashed clothes, rotting food and excrement, the place was an animal's den rather than a place to live. Cursing, he shoved the door the rest of the way in, and searched- none within. Nothing but rot and squalor. Spitting, he stepped back into the ball, taking some little pleasure seeing his prey's neighbors ducking rapidly back out of sight.

Going to the nearest door, he knocked. After a moment he said, "Open the door or I will open it." His voice a low growl with the words.

It opened, the dweller within obviously fumbling with the lock as they pulled it open to the limit of the security chain. "W-what do you want? I have nothing!"

Vasily shoved on the door, snapping the chain free of its mount and driving the man back into the room; a woman cowered nearby, and he heard a shriek from a child that was quickly stifled from a side room. "Your neighbor. Where is he?"

The man's eyes flicked back and forth as if seeking an escape. "I-I don't know! he's not been here! God, don't..."

"Shut the fuck up." Vasily snapped, and the man went silent. "When was he home last?"

"I don't know, days? A week?" was the stammered response.

Vasily grimaced, then slammed a meaty fist into the man's face, driving him across the room. He hit the wall and slid down, unconscious; blood pouring from his nose and mouth. "Fucking useless. If that fuck," he gestured to his prey's apartment, "shows up, tell him Igor wants his money." He glared at the woman. "Remember that."

With that, he turned and left.

Back in his car, Vasily wiped blood off his knuckles. Fydor obviously was on his last legs if his apartment was any indication. Looking at the list, he scratched off several of the possibilities- no money meant no bars and no entertainment- no whore was going to put out for free. That left the squats- places to live where money wasn't required, and drugs could be obtained if you were willing to degrade yourself sufficiently. he smiled; he would be degrading the man quite a bit further.

Along the river, the stink of water and dead fish was strong. Vasily made his way through the shanties to the wreck of a warehouse he'd found on his list. It was a known hangout of the worst of the worst- drug users who'd gone past any hope of reclaiming their lives. shoving the door aside, he found... Emptiness.

Black as night was the interior, pierced here and there with dim shafts of light from the punctured, ancient roof. Dripping water from the rain of the night before pooled on the debris-ridden floor, and the smell of mold and rot was pungent in his nostrils. He stepped inside, looking warily- he could feel someone watching him, but he couldn't see where.

Making his way inside, he kicked at the piles of filth- all kinds of trash were scattered about, evidence of decades of squatters, drugs and desolate desperation. A noise caught is attention.; a cough and scrabble from a room to his left; he clenched his fists and grinned. "Come out. Come out, or I will come in."

No response, and minutes passed. Vasily moved forward, looking forward to beating his prey, relishing the idea of violence. He'd always loved it, the adrenal rush, the feel of meat and bone yielding to his fists. And here was another chance for that most basic of highs. He stepped through the door, squinting to see through the dark of the ill-lit room. Another scrabbling and a squeak of a voice, then footsteps running; "Ha! Yes! Run, you little shit!" He took off in pursuit, knowing any obstacles would be met by the prey before he collided.

This theory was suddenly proven wrong when he slammed into a pillar. He rebounded, impacting the floor hard. He shook his head, tasting blood and shortly spitting out a tooth. Groping, he got to his hands and knees just in time for a booted foot to slam into his face. He grunted, lashing out blindly and having the satisfaction of hearing someone fall from the blow.

"Oh, you are going to die, rat," he snarled, throwing himself onto his opponent. They rolled on the filthy floor, until again his prey squirmed loose. Staggering up himself, Vasily tackled the man as he was silhouetted in the vaguely-lit doorway. He flipped the man over, then spat to the side. "Who do we have here?" he ground out. "Could you be Fydor?" He slapped the man, hard. "Answer!"

The man coughed and spat in Vasily's face. "Yes! FUCK you! Let me GO!" He was far stronger than his wiry frame could possibly explain, and nearly pulled loose once again.

Two quick punches from Vasily's bloodied fist slowed Fydor down.. "Igor sent me, you fuck. Igor wants his money. I, however, think you cannot pay, yes?" He yanked the man to his feet, and slammed him against the wall. "Even if you can, I don't think I care." The grin came again, brutal and ugly through the gore.

Surprisingly though... Fydor laughed. Coughing, his laugh was almost manic in intensity. "You don't know shit. God, you have NO fucking idea what you're fucking with. I just want my junk, that's all- but you're in the way now." As he said this, he finally returned Vasily's grin. With fangs.

Vasily stepped back, not truly believing his eyes; was he concussed? He didn't think so. He KNEW that feeling. But the man was changing before his eyes! "Fuck this," he snarled, slamming into the horribly-altering addict.

Or he WOULD have, if the man's now-taloned limb hadn't swatted him away like he weighed nothing. He rebounded off the wall, ears ringing as the still shifting thing charged with a wet, laughing snarl.

Partly stunned, Vasily managed to land a punch, then another. Driving the thing back and bringing a squeal from it. Blood sprayed from his hand as he snagged it on one of its fangs. "I will NOT be beaten by you, fucking freak!" Now maddened by his anger, Vasily dove forward into the stunned beast, slamming it down and rolling off and past.

Faster than he could have believed, the thing spun and was on him again, this time its fangs sinking into his bicep, its claws into his chest. He howled in agony, hand groping til it closed on something. With his improvised weapon, he slammed it into the creature's head until he found its eye, which burst horribly when the nail-studded board ripped into it. The thing reeled back, staggered, allowing Vasily to scramble away from it.

Horrified, he watched as the creature's eye gruesomely started to heal from the hideous wound; but he knew the thing could be hurt! With a howl more animal than man, Vasily wielded the board like a bat, slamming it into the thing's face with manic speed, driven by hate and fear. Finally, the thing slammed him aside and fled, howling.

Vasily dropped to his knees, shaking. Blood coated his arm and chest, and he couldn't seem to get a breath; he staggered to his feet, collapsing at least once before reaching his car. He collapsed within, taking four tries to start it, then drove.

Blackness, for how long he couldn't tell. Bright lights through his closed eyelids. Voices unintelligible and other sounds he couldn't distinguish. Flashes of scent and sound, then blackness again, Finally, slowly, things started to resolve- a hospital room? He blinked, a horrid metallic taste in his mouth and a sensation throughout him like being packed in wet cotton. He tried to move, but straps were across his chest and about his wrists, and it HURT.

He groped, finding the call button for the nurse before trying to relax for the inevitable wait. What had happened? he remembered... But no. What had happened couldn't have happened. Men do not become beasts; at least not literally. He tried to move again, and itching agony ran through his chest and head.

"Hey," he said, voice rasping. "HEY!" Shouting hurt, but it might mean that he wouldn't have to wait as long. The door opened, and a nurse looked in.

"Sir, please. You were in an accident. Hold still." She approached, touching his forehead. "You're Vasily, yes?" She gave him a sip of water, which helped his throat at least.

"Yes. What accident? I... Do not remember. Can I be unbound?" Vasily knew that calm would get him loose sooner than anger.

"I'm Svetlana, Vasily. Be patient and I'll fetch the doctor. You were a very lucky man; most wouldn't have survived the injuries you sustained."

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked; at least she was something nicer to look at than the ceiling.

"You were mauled by some animal. A dog we think. We don't know how you managed to drive as far as you did, but you crashed in an intersection. You'll be glad to know you were the only one hurt... Though that probably isn't much comfort. I'll get the doctor." She left the room.

It couldn't be real. A dog? No. It did happen after all. A chill ran through him. Monsters were real, and he had faced one. His head whirled with the knowledge- and that... Thing was still out there. He had no illusions of that. He tried his strength against the restraints again, gasping at the painful pulling at his upper arm and chest before subsiding. "I suppose I wait," he thought.

The doctor argued with Vasily that he should stay; that he needed to heal. But that he could walk on his own was good enough for him. He'd been there too long already, and unconscious for two days of that time. More than enough time in that butcher's shop. Walking slowly out of the hospital, he hailed a taxi and went home; he'd have to explain things to Igor... But what could he possibly say?

Home was as he'd left it, and he sat down with a cold beer; he rubbed the can across his forehead, then, deciding, rose again and went into the bathroom. Peeling off his shirt painfully, he looked at the bandaging- his bicep was covered from elbow to neck, and his entire chest as well. taking a razor, he started cutting the bandaging off.

When he was finished, he stared; the wounds were closed. The pain was from the stitches, but only bare red lines were left of the bite and slashes. He slumped against the wall wondering just what the hell was happening, then remembered something.

His tongue ran around his teeth. They were all there- he'd lost one in the fight, he was sure of it, but... They were all there. Even the molar he'd lost last year.

Returning to the living room to sit, he wondered, "what has happened to me?"

The meeting with Igor went as well as he could have expected; The tale of a dog attack was believed; Vasily, whatever he was had never been known as a liar. It was assumed that Fydor was either dead or out of the city. Vasily knew otherwise, but he'd be looking into that on his own time. He returned to his 'work', but... It no longer appealed. The violence had lost it's rush, but what else was he to do? He knew nothing else.

An evening finally came with him restless; something was wrong. Something he couldn't put a name to, a need to do something. He rubbed his head, feeling the stubble. He needed to shave soon. Standing, he stretched, looking out over the city, a full moon lighting the night with brilliant silver radiance; It felt so right, so good, he stood full in the light until the pain came.

Unbelievable agony, so sharp and tearing that he never had the chance to scream; he doubled over, gasping, as claws erupted from his fingers. Still no scream came from him, the breath gone from his lungs as his body reformed, each moment feeling like rusty nails being driven into him. Forever it went on, til he finally, mercifully blacked out.

Sound. Magnified beyond belief. He could hear the mice in the walls, the creak of the building as the light breeze moved it. Smells, the odor of sweat and rot and dust and things he'd never imagined reached him, glorious in the depths of the detail. He opened his eyes, and the night was bright, lit more than by the shimmering moon above, it was as sharp as the brightest noon to his eyes.

Moving, he saw his arm and froze; ropy muscle, white fur and claws, black pads at the base of his fingers and at the tip of each; his body also furred. His speech a growl, and that need to do something ever stronger.

What was he? He didn't know. But... His mind seemed his own, despite the urges and cravings echoing within him. The moon called to him, and finally, finally he answered- a howl ripped out of his throat before he leapt into the night, another animal lost in the streets.