Fur-Isle
I was cleaning up my computer when I found this story I had started at the beginning of the year and haven't gotten around to finishing it yet. I thought I would post what I have and see how many furs are interested in the story. So far, there is no yiff, but eventually there will be. This is about a third of what I have planned for the story, so expect some more to come.
It's amazing what a small thing like a piece of paper can do to your life. I guess I should have expected something considering where the paper came from. Anything from the government that is directly handed to you in a hand-addressed envelope is bound to be either really bad news or a step up in your career. In my case, it was both.
My name is Tom Waitens. Before I got the fated envelope, I was your regular professor of Anthropology. I gave lectures, graded term papers, failed some students, gave grant money to others. The only reason I got the position was my doctorate, which was from the same school. I never did any field research, even though my field is cultural anthropology, which almost needs time in another culture to do any research. I just dug through books and research notes of other anthropologists who did actual research and found some obscure trend in their observations for my thesis. I can't even remember what my thesis was about. After only five years of being a professor here at Glendale University, I was starting to wonder why I wanted to be an anthropologist. Then came the infamous paper.
I will never forget the day I got the envelope. I was walking to my 9 a.m class when a man in a very bland, yet somehow expensive-looking, suit came up to me, asking where he could find me. After proving who I was, he handed the envelope over and walked off. My first thought was to throw it away, thinking it was a bomb or something. Then I wondered who would want to kill me, so I opened it. The first thing that caught my eye was the TOP SECRET stamp that covered most of the backside of the paper. When I turned the paper over, I saw it was from some governmental agency that I had never heard of before. It was a summons, to leave Glendale U. and "Prove my theories." I thought they had the wrong guy, since I had not done any noteworthy work in anything the government would be interested in. I looked for a number to call to inform them of their obvious mistake. The only information was a time and place. I had no choice but to show up and face likely reprimand for not informing them sooner. Needless to say, I was distracted during class.
At the time and place listed on the paper, I waited. Luckily, it was a park at sunset. I blended in with the crowd. I showed up fifteen minutes early, not wanting to keep any government officials waiting. When a black car appeared in the traffic and pulled up to the curb by the bench I was sitting on, I got up. The window rolled down, and a voiced called out my name. I walked up to the car, and a door opened. I tried to explain to them that they had the wrong Tom Waitens, but they said they were looking for the Tom Waitens that wrote the paper on Divergence and Amalgamation of Multi-Racial Groups in Isolated Environs. The name rang a bell, it was my thesis.
Shocked, I got in the car. I was driven in silence to a nondescript building on the edge of town. Besides the fact the building looked like it was meant to be a bunker, and the armed guards by the barbed wire fence, it could have been any office building. The car pulled into a garage, and I was told to get out next to a metal door with no handle. I did as I was told, and the car drove off. Before I could wonder what to do, the door opened. A man stood in the doorway, motioning for me to follow him. Again, I did as I was told, and ended up in a large, dimly-lit room with a large table in the center. From what I could tell, the room was empty.
After five minutes in the room, I started to look around for a light switch. I didn't like being in a room where I couldn't see everything. Just then, a voice called out telling me to approach the table. When I was standing next to the table, a man in a uniform with lots of ribbons on it also approached the table. "Tom Waitens, I presume?" I nodded, "I am General Hoxx, and you have been selected for a great honor. A few months ago, our satellites discovered an uncharted island of the coast of Alaska, near the Arctic circle. We would like you to investigate for us."
"Why me?"
"Simple. Your thesis. Our satellites also detected signs of life, human life . There are also what appears to be buildings. However, there are no docks, no beach for landing craft, and no airstrip or landing area for aircraft. Most of the island is a mountain. Our theory is that whoever is on that island has not had any contact with the outside world for a long time. Yet they have enough technology and materials to make concrete. You, Tom, were hand-picked to go and study the culture."
For a minute I was speechless. I had just been handed a rare opportunity, to study a previously unknown culture cut off from the world. Yet something bothered me. "Why is this top secret? This would make headline news."
"We want to make sure that there won't be any risks with this group so close to Alaska."
"So, you want me to make sure that they won't try to kill us, right?"
"Close enough"
"And if they are a threat?"
"You try to pacify them, if that fails, then that is where these men come in." The general points over to a group of five men in camouflage uniforms. "They will be there to make sure you are safe and that our interests will also be protected."
"Just one question, how much explosives will they be bringing along?"
"Enough to make the island disappear into the ocean."
"That's what I was afraid of."
I was then formally introduced to Major George Campbell, First Lieutenant Van Maxx, Second Lieutenant Steve Badger, Second Lieutenant Gregory Larson, and Second Lieutenant Ryan Von-Lindbuge. I was told to think of them as personal security hired my employer. I can ask them to do something, but they have higher orders.
Then I remembered my job. I was still a professor at Glendale, or so I thought. The general informed me that the University had been informed of my extended leave of absence. My apartment was likewise taken care of.
That night I spent at the building. No one ever told me the name of it. The next day was spent going over how to get to the island. We were going to parachute onto the mountain, and navigate our way down to one of the buildings that we can see and try to get inside. We also discussed how we were going to get back. After I make my decision about the culture and we want to leave, we would use an inflatable raft the marines would be carrying to leave the island and a radio beacon to call for a ship to pick us up. I had one more night in the building. The third day I was driven to an airstrip to be flown to the island. I was stuck in the plane with five marines who were all in full combat gear and very little personality for five hours. I didn't even have a book to read. When the time came, the six of us jumped out of the plane. We landed safely, and in a close enough group that we quickly found each other on the ground.
The island seemed normal enough. I couldn't hear any animals, and didn't find any tracks, but I am not a nature kind of guy, so I might have missed them. There were som e plants too, various grasses, trees, ferns, etc. I was a bit surprised this was so close to the arctic circle, but then I remembered that coastal areas even in Alaska stay mild for most of the year, and coniferous trees, while not common, can be seen. We moved close to the shore, where we knew a building stood.
After an hour or so of hiking, we reached a three-story structure. I was beat; the most intense hike I'd had lately was walking to a lecture hall on the fifth floor. The building made me forget my fatigue. I picked my jaw off the ground after realizing what I apparently saw. It looked like a modern high-school, but aged my at least fifty years of neglect. The marines seemed unfazed. They didn't get the implications of such a building. To neglect a building on such a small island, when space is at an unusual premium, is unheard of. Not to mention the fact that architecturally, this group had reached a modern era at least eighty years ago, by my estimate. I started to doubt the fact that anyone sentient still lived here.
We walked up to the building, it appeared structurally sound, so we entered through the front doorway. The front door was missing. The main atrium would have been fairly impressive, if it weren't for the peeling, yellowing, blue and green paint. And the loss of electric lighting. And the veritable lake of stagnant water that started fifteen feet from the entrance. The water reached the other end of the entryway and into the hallway beyond, I could not say how far it went since the hallway came to a tee. I also could not gauge the depth of the brackish water. There were doorways to the left and right of the entrance, on this side of the water. We decide to check out these other paths first, then the waterlogged hallway.
To save time, we split up. George Campbell and Ryan Von-Lindbuge came with me to investigate the path on the right, and Van Maxx, Steve Badger, and Gregory Larson took off down the left path. George and Ryan led as the three of us walked down the corridor, I was thankful for the intermittent patches of light given off by the windows. They faced south, presumably to let in more light, and the sun was still a few hours from setting. When I closed my eyes, it almost felt like I was walking around Glendale. We saw more rooms to back up my highschool theory, classrooms, a couple bathrooms; one for men, another for female, even a chem lab. I was certain if someone took the time to clean up the place it could be as good of a school as any other.
About a hundred feet from the atrium, a flight of stairs led down into what looked to be the same murky water. The hallway turned left after a ways, so it could be possible for it to be the same 'lake'. We were about to radio Van and the others, when they radioed us.
"Uhh, sir? We have a situation here..." Came a voice over the radio.
"Van? What is it?" George said into his radio.
"There are these...things here. I don't know what they are, but they don't look friendly."
"Try to make it back to the atrium, we'll meet you there."
"They have us surrounded, sir."
"Just stay there and we will come to you, just hang in there."
"Hurry sir, I don't -AAAAAAAARRRRGH!!"
"Van? What's going on?"
The only reply we got was gunfire and screams coming from the other hall. We ran back to the atrium. Again, I let George and Ryan take the lead. We made it back to the atrium, but the sound of gunfire had stopped, and the screams were fading. Adrenaline pushed us on, but less than fifty feet into the hallway, we couldn't hear anything coming from the hallway. Another hundred feet and we came to the water's edge agian, but this time, there were three trails of blood, all lead into the water. There were also the weapons the marines were carrying.
I was about to lose my lunch, but I was distracted from my gag reflex by George holding a 9mm in face. "Take it, you may need it." was all he said. We knew there would be no hope of backup. We had no way to get a hold of the mainland. Our best hope was the natives, if they weren't the ones who did this. We didn't like our prospects, but we had to explore the building, maybe find a stairway up to the next floor, so we could make camp for the evening.
We entered the water. The first thought in my mind was how filthy the water was, and how I would not want the get a cut, or I was sure to get an infection. It took me a surprising amount of time to realize the most astonishing fact about the water. It wasn't cold. You would expect water near the arctic to be cold as ice, but it was room temperature. It acted like water, which only added to the mystery. I figured there had to be a heating element in the water, but it would have to supply a large amount of thermal energy to keep such a shallow body of water so warm.
I was too distracted by the properties of the water to notice the ripples, but George wasn't. He called out to me, but it was too late. A large, scaled beast rose from the water and jumped on top of me. I raised my hands to defend myself, which deflected the massive jaws away from my head, but the momentum of it pushed me over, and it pinned me beneath the water's surface. I could faintly hear the gunfire above me, and the beast thrashed around a bit, then was still. I managed to push it off, and just in time. My lungs were on fire.
"Anyone care to explain what in the world that was?" I asked after I caught my breath.
"Looks like an alligator, and moved like one, too." Ryan said.
"I never knew alligators liked cold climates, and I have never see one jump like that." George said, offering me a hand to get up.
"Well, I take it they are carnivores, at least. Being made of meat, I say we should move carefully from now on. Whatever these things eat, we must be a pretty good replacement." Ryan said.
We moved on, watching the water's surface the entire time. After fifteen minutes, we found some stairs that lead up. We took them, glad to be out of the water. We found a classroom and secured it for a camp that night. The sun was setting, so we made a fire from some of the desks and a few books lying around, making sure that it couldn't spread to the building. We had some MREs, and decided on guard duty for the night. I was last in the rotation, because then the other two would have more rest in case something happened. We settled in for the night, which, despite being the beginning of autumn, was still warm. I laid out on the floor and slept. I luckily didn't have any dreams, since they would probably be nightmares of those alligator-things.
The first two watches supposedly went well, or at least, well enough that they didn't wake me. When it came time for me to take my watch, Ryan woke me. I took his M16 and found a comfortable enough seat next to the door. My mind kept replaying that scene from earlier. I was lucky to be alive. Still, calling those things 'alligators' is a bit of a stretch. Sure, they have a tough, scaly skin, but the body shape is all wrong. The snout is too blunt, and the head shape was wrong. At least I thought so, I was going off of the memory of a brief instant. I also didn't have much experience with alligators. If my memory served, the tail was also too short, and it was too wide around the middle. It's front legs were also shorter and thinner than it's hind legs. It was almost like something or someone wanted to make an alligator but failed.
These thoughts continued for a few hours, but nothing much else came from it. Two hours into my three hour watch, I saw something. It didn't look like one of those...things. It looked almost, human. It was a shadow along the wall of the hallway, just the torso up on an apparent human. It seemed to come from two rooms over. Weighing the options, I decided to check it out. Without waking the other two, I slipped out of the room. I crept over to the room were the shadow came from. I couldn't see it anymore, but I was certain the cause of it was still there. I neared the door, closer, closer. After what felt like hours of creeping closer to the doorway, I reached it.
I leaned over to look in the room, and no amount of briefing or government training could prepare me for what I saw. A lifetime on the internet, however, did. I saw a true to life fur. Female, by the body shape. She was lying on her side, facing away from the door. She had deep, blood red fur along her sides and back, with snow white fur on the tip of her bushy tail. Her shanks were looked black in the light of the room, but something told me they were off-black. Her coloring and the pointed ears atop her head lead me to believe she was a vixen. She also had long, golden hair. She had some clothing on, it looked almost like what I would expect on an amazon warrior, not a fur.
I stood there, dumbfounded by finding a fur. I had seen furry art and read some stories, but never bought into the idea. I thought it was all just a fetish. Seeing a vixen-morph in real life, I was questioning my take on furry culture. I definitely needed to talk to her, find out about her way of life. I stepped into the room, not trying to stay quiet or anything, but wanting to get close enough to wake her up. After a couple of steps, I heard a voice, "About time you came in, I've been waiting." It sounded female, and the vixen rolled over afterwards. "Don't worry, I don't bite, unless you want to yiff."
That last statement made me pause. After blinking a few times, I ask the question that was foremost in my mind. "How do you speak English? Are you real? And by yiff, you mean mate? You've been waiting? Are there more like you? I mean, more furs-er, whatever you call yourselves? What's your name?" Okay, so I had more than one question, but can you blame me?
She chuckled at my outburst, making me blush. "Whoah, slow down. You will find out everything in due time. My name if Farah. We don't really have a name for ourselves, so furs will work. I also heard you in the hall. These ears are for more than decoration, you know." I notice her ears twitching with that last statement. "As for the rest of your enquiries, they will have to wait for now. We should get you friends and leave before the Genshah wake."
"Genshah?"
"You remember that thing that tried to eat you yesterday, right? That's a Genshah."
I try to ask more, but a furred finger came to rest on my lips. I noted the soft fur and the fact that her hands were similar to a human hand, but with longer fingers and no nails. I blushed again when I found myself taking a good look at her front. She was indeed wearing a bikini made out of what appeared to be animal hide. They left little to the imagination, especially with her B-size bust. Her white fur continued along her front, confirming my vixen theory. "If you are done ogling, then can we get your companions and leave?"
I nodded, and led the way out the door. When I got to the door, I lookrd back to see her picking up a spear. I assumed that the culture on the island must have degenerated from the time they built the school, which would explain the state of the building. On second glance, though, the spear was made entirely out of metal, not a wood shaft and stone head. Perhaps they were not in the stone age after all.
I walked back down the hall, and back into the room where George and Ryan were sleeping in. I woke up George first. At first, he was a bit angry after looking at his watch, saying that the night isn't over. Once I tell him that I found a native, his mood changed considerably. He woke up Ryan while I brought Farah, who was waiting in the hall, into the room. Both George and Ryan were taken aback by Farah. I guess military training covers regular animal attacks, but not anthropomorphic animals. I explain what little I knew of Farah and we both suggested leaving as soon as we could.
We pack up and leave down the hall. "So, Farah, where are you leading us?" Geroge asked.
"Somewhere safe from the Genshah. In the basement of this building there is a tunnel. It leads to our town."
"The basement? Wouldn't that be flooded?" Ryan chimed in.
"Normally, but you will see."
I was wondering under what circumstance the basement would not be flooded when we reached the stairs. "We must hurry, If we can get to the tunnel before the Genshah awake, then we will be safe. If not, then I cannot guarantee any of us will make it alive." We made it to the bottom of the stairs, and Farah instructed us to follow as fast as we could. We took off at a sprint, or as close as we could in knee-deep water and with one anthropologist with a 50 pound rucksack. Farah guided us through the main floor of the school, I lost track of all the twists and turns. "We are almost there-don't stop!" She seemed genuinely scared.
Farah stopped in front of a door. The first thing I noticed was that there WAS a door. All the other doorways were basically holes in the walls. Farah inserted a key into the lock, and turned it with a very audible 'click'. After the click there was a different sound, like a rumbling thunder. "Oh, no. The Genshah! Quick, get inside! We only have a few seconds before they show up!" She yelled, throwing the door open. It was completely dark on the other side. Farah literally threw me inside. She grabbed for George, who said that he would follow Farah, and cover the rear. She then came into the dark hallway as well. She took me by the hand and led me down what I could only assume to be stairs. I hadn't noticed until then the lack of water. But the threshold on the door was not that high. My brain pondered that problem for a while.
After we were on the stairs, we heard gunfire above us. Farah muttered under her breath, and moved quicker down the stairwell. I had no idea how she could see in such a place, but she was able to run down the stairs without a single missed step. We reached a point where the stairs gave way to level ground, and I was able to make out some light ahead. I asked if that was the tunnel, but Farah did not answer, she only ran towards it. Just as we got to the tunnel entrance, a loud explosion rang out. It was then that I knew that George and Ryan weren't coming. Of the six who came to this island, I was the only one left.